Head cocked to the left.
Partial deafness in ear.
First point of attack.
Two. Throat. Paralyse vocal cords. Stop screaming.
Three. Got to be heavy drinker. Floating rib to the liver.
Four. Finally, drag the left leg. Fist the patella.
Summary prognosis: Conscious in 90 seconds.
Martial efficacy: quarter of an hour at best.
Full faculty recovery, unlikely.
I like the hat.
I just picked it up.
Did you remember your revolver?
Knew I forgot something.
-Thought I'd left the stove on. -You did.
I think that's quite enough.
You are a doctor, after all.
Always nice to see you, Watson.
Where's the inspector?
He's getting his troops lined up.
That could be all day.
Sherlock Holmes.
And his loyal dog.
Tell me, doctor...
as a medical man, have you enjoyed my work?
Let me show you how much I've enjoyed it.
Watson. Don't.
Observe.
How did you see that?
Because I was looking for it.
Lord Blackwood.
You seem surprised.
I'd say the girl deserves your attention more than he.
Indeed.
I'd leave that alone if I were you, boy-o.
Good lad.
Impeccable timing, Lestrade.
We've one for the doctor...
and one for the rope.
-Clarkie? -Sir?
This woman needs a hospital immediately.
Put her in the back of the Moriah.
Right, lads. That's it.
-Right. Pick him up, lads. -Yes, sir.
If you don't mind.
Get him out of my sight.
And you were supposed to wait for my orders.
If I had, you'd be cleaning up a corpse and chasing a rumor.
Besides, the girl's parents hired me, not the Yard.
Why they thought you'd require any assistance is beyond me.
Well, London will breathe a sigh of relief.
Indeed. Congratulations, Lestrade.
Bravo, inspector. Have a cigar.
Gentlemen.
Cheese.
Blackwood hangs tomorrow. Read all about it.
156 over 80. Very good.
My nerves are the best they've been in years, thanks to you.
Tell me something.
Your new premises...
when are you moving in?
I should be in within the week.
Cavendish Place. And there'll be a woman's touch too.
-Well, that's marvelous. -Indeed.
Good God.
-That was gunfire. -No.
No, no. Hammer and nail, wasn't it?
My colleague's probably just putting up a painting.
I'll... I'll go and check.
-Your colleague... -Yes?
Won't be moving with you, will he?
No, he won't.
Mrs. Hudson.
I wont go in there by myself. Not while he's got a gun in his hand!
You don't need to go in there at all. Give me the paper.
What will I do when you leave, Doctor? He'll have the whole house down.
He just needs another case. That's all.
Couldn't you have a longer engagement?
I smell gunpowder. It's not right, you know, not in a domestic environment.
Thank you, Captain Philips. Perhaps a nice cup of tea?
-Same time next week. -Come along, captain.
-It's quieter downstairs. -Mrs. Hudson?
Bring something to cheer him up.
Permission to enter the armory?
Granted.
Watson, I am in the process of inventing a device...
that suppresses the sound of a gunshot.
It's not working.
Can I see that?
You know, it's been three months...
... since your last case.
Yes, yes. Gently, gently, Watson. Be gentle with me...
Don't you think it's time you found another one?
I can't but agree.
My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems. Give me work.
The sooner, the better.
Paper.
Let's see, then. There's a letter here...
from Mrs. Ramsey of Queen's Park.
-Her husband's disappeared. -He's in Belgium with the scullery maid.
Is it November?
Yes, Holmes. All right.
Lady Radford reports...
Her emerald bracelet has disappeared.
Insurance swindle. Lord Radford likes fast women and slow ponies.
Oh, I see you're the attending physician at Blackwood's hanging.
Yes.
It was our last case together and I wanted to see it through to the end.
A Mr. Lewis...
-... is seeking -There's only one case...
that intrigues me at present: The curious case of Mrs. Hudson, the absentee landlady.
I've been studying her comings and goings.
They appear most sinister.
Tea, Mr. Holmes?
Is it poisoned, nanny?
There's enough of that in you already.
Don't touch. Everything is in its proper place...
as per usual, nanny.
He's killed the dog. Again.
What have you done to Gladstone now?
I was simply testing a new anesthetic.
He doesn't mind.
Holmes, as your doctor...
-He'll be as right as a trivet in no time. -As your friend...
You've been in this room for 2 weeks. I insist, you have to get out.
There's nothing of interest for me out there, on earth, at all.
-So, you're free this evening? -Absolutely.
-Dinner? -Wonderful.
-The Royal? -My favourite.
Mary's coming.
-Not available. -You're meeting her, Holmes.
Have you proposed yet?
-No, I haven't found the right ring. - Well, then it's not official.
It's happening, whether you like it or not.
8:30, the Royale. Wear a jacket.
You wear a jacket.
A man? Outside my house?
Straighten your tie.
Holmes.
You're early.
Fashionably.
Miss Mary Morstan.
My goodness. What a pleasure.
For the life of me, I don't know why it's taken him so long
to introduce us properly.
Pleasure is mine.
It really is quite a thrill to meet you, Mr. Holmes.
I've heard so much about you.
I have a pile of detective novels at home.
-Wilkie Collins, Poe. -It's true.
It can seem a little far-fetched though sometimes...
making grand assumptions out of tiny details.
That's not quite right, is it?
In fact, the little details are by far the most important.
-Take Watson. -I intend to.
See his walking stick? A rare African snakewood...
hiding a blade of high-tensile steel.
A few were awarded to veterans of the Afghan war...
so I can assume he's a decorated soldier.
Strong, brave, born to be a man of action.
And neat, like all military men.
Now, I check his pockets.
A stub from a boxing match. Now I can infer that he's a bit of a gambler.
I'd keep an eye on that dowry, if I were you.
-Those days are behind me. -Right behind you.
He's cost us the rent more than once.
Well, with all due respect, Mr. Holmes, you know John very well.
What about a complete stranger?
-What can you tell about me? -You?
- I don't think that's... - I don't know that, that's...
-Not at dinner. -Perhaps another time.
-I insist. -You insist?
-You remember we discussed this. -The lady insists.
-You're a governess. -Well done.
Yes, well done. Shall we?
-Waiter? -Your student...
It's a boy of eight.
-Charlie's 7, actually. -Charlie?
Then he's tall for his age. He flicked ink at you today.
Is there ink on my face?
There's nothing wrong with your face.
There are 2 drops on your ear, in fact.
India blue's nearly impossible to wash off.
Anyway, a very impetuous act by that boy,
But you're too experienced to react rashly
which is why the lady for whom you work lent you that necklace.
Oriental pearls, diamonds, a flawless ruby. Hardly the gems of a governess.
However, the jewels you are not wearing, tell us rather more.
-Holmes. -You were engaged.
The ring has gone, but the lightness of the skin where it once sat suggests
that you spent some time abroad, wearing it proudly,
that is until you were informed of its true and rather modest worth,
at which point you broke off of the engagement
and returned to England for better prospects.
A doctor, perhaps.
Right on all counts, Mr. Holmes, apart from one.
I didn't leave him.
He died.
Well done, old boy.
-Fight. Fight. -Get him.
Get up and fight.
Fight.
-Finish it. -Come on.
Get up and fight, come on.
Come on.
Get up.
Get up and fight.
That's it, big man, we're done.
You won, congratulations.
We ain't done yet.
This mustn't register on an emotional level.
First, distract target.
Then block his blind jab.
Counter with cross to left cheek.
Discombobulate.
Dazed, he'll attempt wild haymaker.
Employ elbow block, and body shot.
Block feral left. Weaken right jaw.
Now fracture.
Break cracked ribs.
Traumatize solar plexus.
Dislocate jaw entirely.
Heel kick to diaphragm.
In summary, ears ringing, jaw fractured, 3 ribs cracked, 4 broken,
diaphragm hemorrhaging, physical recovery: 6 weeks,
full psychological recovery: 6 months.
capacity to spit at back of head:
neutralized.
Where did that come from?
What the hell's going on here, Charlie?
Lord Blackwood's put him under some kind of spell, sir.
It's like he's burning from the inside out.
You lot, shut up!
Charlie. Charlie!
Take this man to the infirmary, now.
What's this all about, then, Blackwood?
There's someone I want to see.
-Watson? -Right.
Let's go.
What started merely as an experiment...
has brought me to the threshold of a monumental discovery.
Now, if I play a chromatic scale...
there's no measurable response.
You do know what you're drinking is meant for eye surgery?
But, now...
and this is remarkable...
if I change to atonal clusters...
Voila, they fly in counterclockwise, synchronized concentric circles.
As though a regimented flock.
Watson, this is exceptional.
I, using musical theory, have created order out of chaos.
How did you lure them in?
Excellent question.
Individually. I've been at it for 6 hours.
-And what happens if I do this? -What?
-Right. -Clean yourself up.
You are Blackwood's last request.
Look at those towering structures.
It's the first combination of bascule and suspension bridge ever attempted.
Most innovative.
What an industrious empire.
Oh, I have your winnings from last night.
You weren't there, so I made your customary bet.
You're right. I'll keep it with your chequebook,
locked safely away in my drawer.
Did you know the opera house is featuring Don Giovanni?
I could procure a couple of tickets if you had any cultural inclinations this evening.
You have the grand gift of silence, Watson.
It makes you quite invaluable as a companion.
I knew she'd been engaged.
She had told me.
So that's no to the opera, then?
That was my waistcoat.
I thought we agreed it's too small for you.
-I'd like it back. -I thought we agreed.
I want it back.
This way, Mr. Holmes.
Blackwood certainly seems to have got the crowd into something of a fear frenzy.
I'm certain it will disperse once his feet have stopped twitching.
Care to come along?
No, you're on your own, old cock.
I've no business with him whilst he's alive.
Suit yourself, "mother hen".
It... seems you still have lots of rooms to let.
We had to move the prisoners, sir.
Otherwise we're gonna have a riot on our hands.
He has a peculiar effect on the inmates.
As though...
he can get inside their heads.
I'm sure I can find my own way if you have other duties to perform.
Much obliged, sir. Thank you, sir.
If any man have an ear, let him hear.
And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea,
having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns,
and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.
And they worshipped the dragon which gave power unto the beast,
and they worshipped the beast, saying, "Who is like unto the beast"?
And the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard,
and his feet were the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion
and the dragon gave him his power, and his seat, and great authority.
I love what you've done with the place.
So glad you could accept my invitation.
I just have a small point of concern.
How can I help?
I've already followed the murders with some interest
and my heart went out primarily to the families of the victims
I couldn't but notice a criminal mastery in the stroke of your brush.
-You're too kind. -However, by comparison
your work in the crypt was more akin to a finger painting.
So now you're curious as to whether there's a larger game afoot.
Either that or...
shortly my friend will pronounce you dead and I thought I might keep him company.
Your mistake is to imagine that anything earthly's led to this moment.
Your error of judgment is to assume that I'm holding the brush at all.
Well my only wish is that I could have caught you sooner.
You see, five lives might have been spared.
Those lives were a necessity.
Sacrifice.
Five otherwise meaningless creatures called to serve a greater purpose.
I wonder if they'd let Watson and me dissect your brain.
After you're hanged, of course.
I'd wager there's some deformity tha'd be scientifically significant.
Then you, too, could serve a greater purpose.
Mr. Holmes, you must widen your gaze.
I'm concerned you underestimate the gravity of coming events.
You and I are bound together on a journey
that will twist the very fabric of nature.
But beneath your mask of logic, I sense a fragility.
That worries me.
Steel your mind, Holmes.
I need you.
I'd say, you've come a long way down from a House of Lords.
-And I will rise again. -Bon voyage.
Pay attention.
Three more will die and there is nothing you can do to save them.
You must accept that this is beyond your control...
... or, by the time you realize you made all of this possible...
... it'll be the last sane thought in your head.
What did he want?
Not sure.
But I don't think you're needed, Father. Not for this one.
Lord Henry Blackwood,
you are sentenced to death for the practice of black magic,
the unholy murder of five innocent young women
and the attempted murder of a sixth.
Do you have any final words?
Death...
... is only the beginning.
Forever and ever. Amen.
That is the end of Lord Blackwood.
London's so bleak this time of year.
Not that I'm pining for New Jersey.
I much prefer to travel in the winter.
Here, I brought you these, all the way from Syria.
I found these exquisite dates in Jordan...
and your favorite...
olives from the Cyclades.
Thought we might have a little tea party.
And while I was setting the table, I found this:
A file with my name on it.
"Theft of Velazquez portrait from king of Spain."
"Missing naval documents lead to resignation
of Bulgarian prime minister."
"Scandalous affair ends engagement of...
Habsburg prince to Romanov princess."
I was simply studying your methods...
should the authorities ask me to hunt you down.
But I don't see my name in any of these articles.
But your signature was clear.
Is that the maharajah's missing diamond?
Or just another souvenir?
Let's not dwell on the past.
Shall we?
Now, by the looks of things, I'd say you were between jobs.
And you between husbands. How much did you get for the ring?
He was boring and jealous, and he snored.
I'm Irene Adler again.
Thank you.
I need your help.
I need you to find someone.
Why are you always so suspicious?
Shall I answer chronologically or alphabetically?
Careful not to cut yourself on this lethal envelope.
I think you'll find all the information you need inside.
Who are you working for?
So I'll have to find out the hard way?
Keep your money. I didn't say I'll take the case.
Well, consider it a wager that you will.
Do you remember The Grand?
They gave me our old room.
Hold the door.
Thanks, doctor.
Ma'am.
-He'll do it. -Well done, Miss Adler.
That's precisely why I hired you.
I wager he'll have our man within the next 24 hours.
He'd better.
Reordan is the key to what Blackwood was doing.
He's essential to my plan.
Get off out of it.
What are you doing? Can't you see where you're going?
-You scalp diver. -Get off out of it!
A little rifle range would go a long way, sir...
rubbing the calluses off these German bands.
God save the queen.
God save the queen, sir.
Get off out of it.
Look at you.
Why is the only woman you've ever cared about a world class criminal?
Are you a masochist?
-Allow me to explain. -Allow me.
She's the only adversary who ever outsmarted you. Twice.
Made a proper idiot out of you.
-Right, you've had your fun. -What's she after, anyway?
-It's time to press on. -What could she possibly need?
It doesn't matter.
An alibi? A beard? A human canoe.
She could sit on your back and paddle you up the Thames.
That's no consequence to you really, is it Watson?
We've done our last case together.
I've already read it.
Missing person:
Luke Reordan, 4 foot 10, red hair, no front teeth.
Case solved.
You're obviously not her type. She likes ginger dwarves.
-Midget. -So you agree?
No, I don't agree.
It's more than technicality, you see.
You're misrepresenting the dimensions of foreshortened peoples.
I've said too much. I can tell, I've upset you.
No, I'm just simply stating, that one has...
What were you doing?
-Will you allow me to explain? -I wish you would.
-Holmes. What are you doing? -Nothing.
-Are you wearing a false...? -False nose? No.
-Tell me that that wasn't... -That wasn't.
Holmes. Where are you going?
Watson.
Got some flowers for you, sweetheart. Cut you a deal because you're so pretty.
My lucky day.
Hello, gorgeous. You got something for me?
Don't move.
Now, what have we got here?
It's...
Thank you.
That's the Irene I know.
Good boy.
This man intrigues me, Watson. He's got Adler on edge.
-Which is no mean feat. -She's intimidated,
she's scared of him.
Yet she works for him.
-Right. -It's nothing to do with me,
but I advise you leave the case alone.
Well, I may not always have a choice.
After all, I may be paying the rent on my own soon, thanks to you.
-Get that out of my face. -It's not "in your face", it's in my hand.
Get what's in your hand out of my face.
-Mr. Holmes? -Clarkie.
Sir, Inspector Lestrade asks that you come with me at once.
What's he done now, lost his way to Scotland Yard?
Watson, grab a compass. "You" means "us."
No, "you" means you.
It's Lord Blackwood, sir. He...
Well...
it appears he's come back from the grave, sir.
-Most engaging. -Very clever.
I pronounced the man dead myself.
What are the facts?
Groundskeeper claims he saw him walking
through the graveyard just this morning, sir.
I'll leave this in your capable hands.
I have an appointment with Mary.
It's not my reputation that's at stake here.
Don't try that.
Have the newspapers got wind of it yet?
Well that's what we're trying to avoid, sir.
Certainly.
What's the major concern?
Panic. Sheer bloody panic, sir.
Indeed.
You're not taking this seriously, are you, Holmes?
Yes, as you should.
It's a matter of professional integrity.
No girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man's dead or not.
Who do you think won the match, Clarkie?
-Sir? -The rugby match.
Your boys have done a magnificent job obliterating any potential evidence.
Yes. But at least they never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity.
You took your time, Holmes.
"And on the third day... "
These slabs are sand stone, they're half a ton each if they're a pound,
and they're smashed open from the inside.
Lestrade, what of the coffin?
We are in the process of bringing it up, now.
I see.
Right. At what stage of the process? Contemplative?
And how is our witness?
He's over there.
And apparently, he is cata...
Cat...
Catatonic, sir.
-He's not feeling very well. -Yes.
Now, If you lot don't stop behaving like a bunch
of quivering milk maids, you're on double time.
And you get down there and you bring that coffin up, now.
Good day, sir.
Hello.
It's all right.
I'm a doctor.
The man's in shock. He may need a few moments.
The witness stated that he saw Lord Blackwood rise from the grave.
Well?
-Well? -You pronounced him dead.
He had no pulse.
Ready.
Down.
Good Lord.
That's not Blackwood.
Well, now we have a firm grasp of the obvious.
Time of death?
Diptera is...
approximately...
2/3 of an inch which would put the time of death...
at between 10 and 12 hours ago.
May I borrow your pen?
-Adler's dwarf. -Midget.
I know what I saw.
It was Blackwood.
As clear as I see you.
And when the dead walk...
the living will fill these coffins.
Well...
Right. Put the lid on and clean this lot up.
You really believe he was resurrected?
The question is not if, but how.
-"The game's afoot." -"Follow your spirit
and upon this charge, cry:
'God for Harry, England and St. George.' "
There you are.
Why that certain fish and chips store, I don't understand.
Well, there's a particular beer they use
in their batter. Northern stout, to be exact.
You know, Holmes, I've seen things in war I don't understand.
In India, I once met a man who predicted his own death
right down to the number and the placement of the bullets that killed him.
You have to admit, Holmes that...
a supernatural explanation to this case
is theoretically possible.
Well, agreed, but it's a huge mistake to theorize before one has data.
Inevitably one begins to twist facts to suit theories...
instead of theories to suit facts.
That said, I believe Adler's midget is the key to this.
Right. Scratches around the keyhole where the watch was wound.
-What does that tell you? -The man was likely a drunk.
Every time he wound the watch his hand would slip, hence the scratches.
Very good, Watson.
You've developed considerable deductive powers of your own.
Le's see now, there are several sets of initials scored...
-Pawnbrokers' marks. -Excellent.
Most recent of which are "M","H", M.H., M.H. is for?
-Maddison and Haig. -Maddison and Haig.
They should be able to give us an address.
What a coincidence.
There's one thing you failed to deduce from the watch, Holmes.
Really? I think not.
The time. I have to get back, Holmes.
Taking tea with the in-laws.
-Reckon your future, sir? -Absolutely not.
-No thank you, ma'am. -You need to hear what I have to tell you.
We have no need of your lucky heather, gypsy woman.
Even if it's to do with Mary?
I see 2 men. Brothers.
Not in blood, but in bond.
What of Mary?
M for Mary, for marriage. Oh, you will be married.
Go on.
I see patterned tablecloths...
and China figurines...
and lace doilies.
Doilies.
Lace doilies? Holmes.
Does your depravity know no bounds?
-No. -She turns to fat...
and she has a beard and...
-What of the warts? -She's covered in warts.
-Enough. -Are they extensive?
Please, enough.
It's the most apt prediction Flora has made in years.
And precisely the reason you can't find a suitable ring.
Do you have my money?
You are terrified of a life without the thrill of the macabre.
-Do you have my cut from the fight? -Admit it.
Give me my money! -Admit it!
Holmes...
I see.
Thank you.
Well, you've got your ring and I've got my address for the ginger midget.
-Should be just there. -I think she'll really like this.
And I have some change in my pocket.
-Shall I look after it for you? -No, no.
-Don't give it away here. -No.
I have to go see Mary.
Give her my best.
And her family, as well.
It does make a considerable difference to me
having someone with me on whom I can thoroughly rely.
Well, you can rely on me for exactly 10 minutes.
He clearly felt something was coming to get him.
Something did.
Irene Adler was here.
Either that or the ginger midget wore the same Parisian perfume.
Putrefaction.
Ammonium sulfate, among other aromas.
Phosphorous.
Formaldehyde.
It looks like...
he was attempting to combine
some kind of sorcery and scientific formula.
More importantly...
let's see what he was trying to dispose of.
-Potassium, magnesium. -Sultaphytic acid.
I'll suck the iron right out of the ink as long as it's not too burnt.
Peculiar.
Hydrated rhododendron.
Holmes.
Look at the crest.
Reordan was working with Blackwood.
Of course he was.
The question is, to what end.
Whatever he was working on, he clearly succeeded.
How so?
Otherwise, he'd still be alive.
Which is why Miss Adler is so desperate to find him.
Yes.
There is one odor I can't quite put my finger on.
Is it candy floss? Molasses?
Maple syrup?
Barley sugar.
Toffee apple.
Let me guess.
Judging by your arsonist tool kit...
you're here to burn down the building and extinguish all evidence therein.
Just one minute, boys.
Dredger.
Meat...
or potatoes?
My 10 minutes are up.
You all right?
Holmes...,
what is that?
Holmes!
Watson...
what have you done?
I haven't slept all night.
Not a wink.
Why I ever believed...
that I would get to have tea with Mary's parents is beyond me...
-having been talked into going with you. -We were set upon man, it was self-defence.
I've been reviewing my notes on our exploits over the last 7 months.
Would you like to know my conclusion?
-I am psychologically disturbed. -How so?
Why else would I continually be led into situations...
where you deliberately withhold your plans from me? Why else?
You've never complained about my methods before.
-I'm not complaining. -You're not? What do you call this?
How... how am I complaining? I never complain.
When do I ever complain about you
practising the violin at three in the morning?
or your mess? your general lack of hygiene, or the fact that you steal my clothes?
We have a barter system.
When do I complain about you setting fire to my rooms?
-Our rooms. -The rooms.
When do I complain that you experiment on my dog?
-Our dog. -On the...
-Gladstone is our dog. -On the dog.
Where I do take issue is your campaign to sabotage my relationship with Mary.
I understand.
-Do you? -I do.
-I don't think you do. -You're overtired.
-Yes. -You're feeling a bit sensitive.
I'm not sensitive.
What you need is a rest.
My brother, Mycroft, has a small estate near Chichester.
Beautiful grounds. There's a folly. We can throw a lamb on the spit.
We? Holmes, if I were to go to the country, it would be with my future wife.
-Well, certainly, if we must... -No, not you. Mary and I.
-You are not... -What, invited?
Why would I not be invited to my brother's country home?
Watson, now you are not making any sense!
You're not human.
John Watson?
Yes.
Your bail's been posted.
Mary.
Just Watson.
I hope you get bail by breakfast, because the boys are getting hungry.
Step lively.
Back off. Back off.
To which the barman says, "May I push in your stool?"
Right, you, you're out.
Until next time, Big Joe.
Always a pleasure, Mr. Holmes.
Thank heaven you're here, Lestrade I'd almost ran out of jokes.
You know, In another life, you'd have made an excellent criminal.
Yes, and you sir an excellent policemen. Tomsky! Thank you.
Now, please tell me you have answers.
All in good time, Lestrade.
"All in good time"? Is this some parlor game where we guess what you're thinking?
I've got a public in frenzy out there. Now, if you don't fill me in,
then I'll have you in there playing Victoria and Albert
quicker than a bookie's runner.
Now, clean up and make yourself presentable.
For whom?
Friends in high places. They're the ones who bailed you out.
I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you, sir...
but I'm gonna have to put this on you.
Mr. Holmes, apologies for summoning you like this.
I'm sure it's quite a mystery as to where you are and who I am.
As to where I am...
I was, admittedly, lost for a moment between Charing Cross and Holborn.
But I was saved by the bread shop on Saffron Hill...
the only baker to use a... certain French glaze on their loaves...
a Brittany sage.
After that the carriage forked left and right, then
a telltale bump over the Fleet Conduit.
And as to who you are, that took every ounce
of my not inconsiderable experience.
The letters on your desk are addressed to Sir Thomas Rotheram.
"Lord Chief Justice", that would be your official title.
Who you really are is, of course, another matter entirely.
Judging by the sacred ox on your ring...
you're the secret head of the Temple of the Four Orders
in whose headquarters we now sit...
on the northwest corner of St. James's Square, I think.
As to the mystery, the only mystery is why you bothered to blindfold me at all.
Yes, well, standard procedure, I suppose.
I daresay we have the right man, gentlemen.
Sherlock Holmes, Ambassador Standish from America...
and Lord Coward, the home secretary.
I suppose you already have some notion as to the practices of our order.
Yes.
They're practically interesting.
Be as skeptical as you like,
but our secret systems have steered the world towards good for centuries.
The danger is they can also be used for more nefarious purposes.
What some call the dark arts, or practical magic.
We know you don't believe in magic, Mr. Holmes.
We don't expect you to share our faith...
merely our fears.
Fear is the more infectious condition.
In this instance...
fear of your own child.
Blackwood is your son.
You have the same irises, a rare dark green...
with diamond-shaped hazel flecks...
together with identical outer ears or pinner,
which are only past down through direct blood line,
which makes by necessity either brothers, or...
in this case, more likely, father and son.
Very few people are privy to that information...
and we want to keep it that way.
He was conceived during one of our rituals.
His mother wasn't my wife...
but she shared our beliefs.
She was a powerful practitioner...
though not enough to survive giving birth to him.
Death followed him wherever he went.
Those five girls were not the first to be butchered.
He killed many more, using them to enhance his powers.
No one could prove anything, of course, but we all knew.
The boy was a curse.
We'd done our best to stop him ourselves, but it's not enough.
His power grows daily.
His resurrection is evidence of that.
But what he does next will be far more dangerous.
His secret lies in the book of spells. This is the source of his power.
He's gonna raise a force that will alter the course of world.
We want you to find him and stop him before he does.
We'll give you any assistance that we can.
As home secretary, I have considerable influence over the police.
Oh, yes.
So...
name your price.
Well, of great benefit to being a consulting detective
is that I can pick and choose my clients.
So consider it done, I'll stop him.
But not for you.
And certainly not for a price.
-I do have a parting query, Sir Thomas. -What is that?
If the rest of his family's dead, how long do you expect to survive?
Food for thought.
Well, perhaps you'll have better luck opening that.
Margaux '58. A comet vintage.
How fascinating that an astronomical event can affect the quality...
How is it going with our case you refuse to take?
... of the wine.
I've hit a dead end, literally.
I found your man.
He's buried in Blackwood's tomb.
If you still need him.
Dear.
Hope my client doesn't come looking for a refund.
He's a professor, isn't he?
Couldn't see his face, but I spotted chalk on his lapel.
I've never known a professor to carry a gun, and on such a clever contraption.
Eye patch, nice touch.
So case closed...
which makes this a social visit.
No, it's a "you're in over your head, Irene" visit.
Whoever killed Reordan was covering their tracks...
which makes you the next loose end to be snipped.
Let it breathe.
I've never been in over my head.
Leave now. Disappear. You're good at that.
Or stay and volunteer for protective custody.
If I'm in danger, so are you.
Come with me.
What if we trusted each other?
You're not listening.
I'm taking you to either the railway station or the police station.
So...
-Which is it to be? -Careful.
You decide.
-Which will it be? -What...?
I told you to let it breathe.
Can you taste the comet?
Why couldn't you just come away with me?
Never.
Madam, I need you to remain calm and trust me, I'm a professional.
But beneath this pillow lies the key to my release.
Of course, she misinterpreted my intention entirely.
Naturally, sir.
That's why I find this modern religious fervor so troubling,
-there's no latitude for misunderstandings. -Faith runs right over reason, sir.
Indeed. And chambermaids were once such a liberal breed.
My wife's a chambermaid.
Anyhow, it’s a good thing she was a friend, sir, or we may never have found you.
The inspector's been over to Baker Street himself this morning, sir.
Just joking about the wife, sir.
We've checked everything, sir.
No sign of a break-in and the butler didn't hear a thing.
So body in the bathtub...
his eyes were wide open, and the only thing missing was...
his ring, sir.
Why did you drain the water?
-Out of common decency. -Crime is common, logic is rare.
The decent thing to do is to catch the killer,
not provide comfort for the corpse.
What is that?
-Jasmine bath salts, sir. -Superb.
Probably comes from a larger container. It would either be in the pantry...
high up where it's warm and dry, or in a linen cupboard with a vent.
And Constable, you could do worse...
than to check the ground under the rear windows
for any signs of footprints not your own.
Data, data, data. I cannot make bricks without clay.
Mr. Holmes?
Was it in the cupboard or the pantry?
It was in the pantry, sir.
I don't know what to make of this.
Excellent work.
Adieu.
What's the meaning of this, Coward? Why have you called this meeting?
Sir Thomas is dead.
I nominate Lord Blackwood as head of the order.
Have you lost your mind?
You know damn well what he's capable of.
Of course he does.
That's why we're here.
That's why we're all here.
My powers and my assets were given to me for one purpose.
A magnificent but simple purpose.
To create a new future.
A future ruled...
by us.
Tomorrow at noon, we take the first step towards a new chapter in our history.
Magic will lead the way.
Once the people of England see our newfound power...
they'll bow down in fear.
Across the Atlantic lies a colony that was once ours.
It will be again.
The Civil War has made them weak.
Their government is as corrupt and as ineffective as ours...
so we'll take it back.
We will remake the world...
create the future.
These men are with me, Standish...
But...
are you?
No, sir. I am not.
These powers that you're playing with...
no man can control.
Well, gentlemen...
someone has to stop him, even if you won't.
Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you.
Save me!
Gentlemen...,
don't be afraid.
As you can see...
we are protected.
Come, drink your allegiance here.
You control the police, now use them.
Didn't know you were here.
Since this room is no longer yours, do you mind if I... utilize it?
Be my guest.
In here, chaps.
-Where would you like me to put him, sir? -Anywhere is fine.
Who is he?
He is the man who tried to kill you at Reardon's lodgings.
I suppose his neck didn't survive the impact of Dredger landing on 'im.
Yes.
Thanks for that, by the way.
But there is some consolation in the knowledge
that he can still be of service to his fellow man.
Elbows and arms stained with blood, but it's older than his own injuries.
None of it human.
He's not a butcher, let me see.
Yellow flame, green bursts.
An industrial worker.
Coal.
River silt.
The slag on his trousers should put him squarely in...
-Nine Elms. -Sorry, what?
The area you're looking for is Nine Elms.
I wondered.
Do you remember where I put the Lords Register of members' interests?
It's on the stepladder.
Well, Blackwood's had his hand in just
about everything that's corrosive to the spirit.
Woolwich Arsenal. Limehouse Chemical Works.
I'll probably be a factory by the river.
What's that?
Never mind.
You don't know where my rugby ball went, do you?
No, not a clue.
Queenshithe Slaughterhouse.
Nine Elms.
A factory by the river.
Well done, Watson. That should lead us right to Blackwood, dead or alive.
Not us.
You.
Yes.
Just a figure of speech, old boy.
He's left it there on purpose.
More coal, doctor.
That's a good one. He's such a tit.
God. Yeah.
Glad to see you two are working hard then.
And I thought we were trying to be discreet.
You would not last one day in the navy.
Holmes, are you sure there isn't an alternative
means of water transportation than that?
I guarantee you nobody knows London's waterways better.
-Tanner's practically a fish himself. -He certainly drinks like one.
Oh, you found a sense of humor, doctor.
If only just a sense.
I better take over, there. Bit tricky down here.
Come on, come on.
-Look familiar? -Yep.
All that's missing is a ginger midget.
They cleared something away from here not minutes ago.
Like what?
Not sure. Something mechanical.
Holmes.
Look at this.
-1:18. -Chapter and verse.
Revelations 1:18. "I am he that liveth, and was dead."
"And behold, I'm alive for evermore."
I warned you, Holmes, to accept that this was beyond your control...
beyond what your rational mind could comprehend.
-What a busy afterlife you're having. -I want you to bear witness.
Tomorrow, at midday, the world as you know it, will end.
Show me your face and it will be the end of your world right now.
Save your bullets, Watson.
A gift for you.
What was that about saving bullets?
She followed you here, Holmes.
You led your lamb to slaughter.
Holmes.
This game was designed to hurt.
Watson!
It's warm in here, Watson.
In over your head yet, darling?
-Hold on there. -I can't.
Let me take your weight.
Give us a leg up, old boy.
These German locks always give me trouble.
It's a band saw.
No matter, we have plenty of time.
Holmes.
-It's not working. -Keep calm.
Holmes, hurry up.
Don't get excited. Turn off that valve.
And we'll bounce in 3, 2...
1.
Thank you.
I'm gonna get after Blackwood.
Thank you.
We should help the doctor.
Holmes!
Mr. Holmes.
Sir.
Mr. Holmes.
Mr. Holmes, we have an order for your arrest, sir.
Sir!
Lord Coward has issued a warrant for your arrest, sir.
Now, Watson's alive.
Just get out of here, sir. Go, sir, go.
Will the train be departing on time?
The train's been delayed, madam.
Shouldn't be long now, though.
The train will depart when I tell it to.
And you will leave my employment when I allow you to.
I fulfilled my contract.
I found Reordan.
He's in Scotland Yard's mortuary.
So that's me, finished.
Your job was to manipulate Holmes' feelings for you...
not succumb to them.
You have fulfilled nothing.
I want what Reordan was making for Blackwood.
Finish the job or the next dead body...
will be Sherlock Holmes.
The surgeon should be along shortly.
He should be able to rest now.
Excuse me.
Is that the best you can do?
Yes, for now.
I must attend to my other patients.
Doctor.
Please.
I know that you care for him as much as I do.
This is not your responsibility, it was his choice.
He'd say that it was worth the wounds.
Solve this.
Whatever it takes.
This is beyond your control.
Sheer bloody panic, sir. Panic.
-It's Lord Blackwood, sir. -I've never been in over my head.
It's nothing to do with me, but I advise you leave the case alone.
-Solve this. -Are you, Holmes?
Accept that this was beyond your control.
-Tomorrow, at midday, the world will end. -I've got a public in frenzy.
Holmes!
Widen your gaze.
You must widen your gaze. Widen your gaze.
You and I are bound together on a journey that will twist the very fabric of nature.
Steel your mind, Holmes. Widen your gaze.
He's gonna raise a force that will alter the very course of the world.
-His power grows daily. -This is the source of his power.
I need you.
His secret lies in the book of spells.
Three more will die...
and there is nothing you can do to save them.
We know you don't believe in magic.
Reordan was working with Blackwood.
Is that better?
He clearly felt something was coming to get him.
His eyes were wide open and the only thing missing was his ring.
Give up, Holmes.
This is a riddle you cannot solve.
Good morning.
Now, you need to work.
Familiar artwork.
You look gorgeous.
Somehow I knew you wouldn't leave.
You made the front page.
Only a name and no picture.
So it looks like you'll be needing to work outside the law now...
and that's my area of expertise.
I feel safer already.
You seem to be making a rapid recovery.
Yes.
Took the shrapnel out myself.
Mary said I had a lousy doctor.
Well, I'm...
I'm just so...
very glad that you're...
well...
with us.
Now that you're sitting comfortably, I shall begin.
My initial approach was far too narrow.
When Blackwood invited me to Pentonville Prison...
he suggested I widen my gaze and, at minimum, I have done just that.
In fact, I may well have reconciled thousands
of years of theological disparity.
But that's for another time.
Blackwood's method is based on a ritualistic mystical system...
that's been employed by the Temple of the Four Orders for centuries.
To fully understand the system, to get inside it...
I reenacted the ceremony we interrupted at the crypt...
with a few enhancements of my own.
My journey took me somewhat further down the rabbit hole than I had intended...
and though I dirtied my fluffy white tail, I have emerged enlightened.
The fraternity, who silently control the empire...,
share the belief with the kings, pharaohs and emperors of old...
that the sphinx was a door to another dimension...
a gateway to immeasurable power.
It's made up of four parts: The foot of a lion, the tail of an ox...
the wings of an eagle, and the head of a man.
In Sir Thomas's secret chamber, I found the bone of an ox...
the tooth of a lion, the feather of an eagle and hair of a man.
Map.
The points of the star represent the five murdered girls...
but the cross is what we're now interested in.
It's a widely held belief...
that within the architecture of the great cities...
are coded references to this system.
Since he rose from the grave, Blackwood has killed three men...
Each murder was committed at a location
that has a direct connection with the temple,
therefore the system.
Reordan, the ginger midget, represents man.
We found his body here.
Sir Thomas, master of the temple, wore the ox ring.
He died here.
Standish, ambassador to America...
where the eagle has been the national emblem for over 100 years.
The headquarters of the Temple of the Four Orders where he died...
is here.
Correspondingly, the map will tell us the location of Blackwood's final act.
So we have man, the ox, eagle.
Only the lion remaining.
Right here.
Parliament.
Right.
You four stay here and the rest of you come with me.
-Get out of the way, you lowlifes! -Right this way.
Ladies first.
Now.
Follow these instructions.
-Aren't you...? -Go.
Hello, hello, hello.
Did the devil turn up?
Well...
never mind.
You got the next best thing.
Beg your pardon, my Lord. I know that it's unorthodox...
but Mr. Holmes here...
he's been making some serious accusations about you...
and the order.
I see.
Well, at least that solves the great mystery as to how you became inspector.
Excuse me, my Lord...
but I've been wanting to do that for a long time.
Well, inspector, I have five minutes before my next engagement...
so why don't you regale me with your stories of conspiracy?
Thank you, Lestrade.
My Lord.
I'm curious, Coward. Did you assist Blackwood in all the murders...
or just the one I prevented?
Very distinctive, those handmade shoes of yours.
But the price of quality is often the unique imprint they leave.
Nonetheless, I confess to being completely outmatched.
I could deduce very little from my investigation.
Fortunately, there's nothing more stimulating...
than a case where everything goes against you.
How many members of Parliament do you intend to murder at noon today?
Man, ox, eagle, lion.
The lion is Parliament, isn't it?
Very clever.
But it's not murder, Mr. Holmes.
It's mercy.
We are giving the weak masses a strong shepherd.
Don't you see that it's for their own...
No, but I don't care much what you think.
I simply wanted to know the location of Blackwood's final ceremony...
and you've given it to me.
I've told you nothing.
But your clothes say infinitely more than you could ever hope.
The mud smeared on your boots from where you’ve been walking.
A touch of red brick dust on your knee from where you've been kneeling.
A small bandage on your thumb from where you've been vowing.
A faint aroma of excrement from where you've been standing.
You and Blackwood laid the final touches to your ceremony...
in the sewers beneath Parliament less than an hour ago.
Both houses meet today.
The whole government will be present.
It's a shame you made an enemy out of Blackwood, Holmes.
You would have made a valuable ally.
How terrible is wisdom...
when it brings no profit to the wise.
We take power at noon.
There isn't any time to waste then, is there?
I told you you he'd be coming out the top window, soldier boy.
There isn't any way he'd be coming over that terrace.
Technically, that isn't the top window, is it, sailor boy?
-What is it? -Well, it's the middle window.
Anyway.
Anyway, you’d be pleased to know that Lestrade
performed in his role perfectly.
In fact, I think he rather enjoyed it.
I hope you know what you're doing, Holmes.
Here's the key.
-You got all you needed from Coward? -Yes, I smoked him out with relative ease.
-Tanner? -Sir?
If you would, captain...
take us under the bridge, port side, proximately 100 yards.
Beyond that you'll find the tunnel that leads us to the sewers.
Right away, sir.
The end is nigh.
Blackwood's come back from hell and laid a curse upon this land.
He walks in every shadow and every puff of smoke.
Behold, he cometh with clouds...
and every eye shall see him...
and every soul shall wail because of him.
You cannot stop him! No one can!
Behold, Blackwood's magic revealed.
-What does it do? -It's a chemical weapon.
The first of its kind.
You deduced that how?
From my pocket.
I snipped this off a rather recumbent rat at the slaughterhouse.
Note the blue discoloration, the faint smell of bitter almonds.
-Telltale traces of cyanide. -Cyanide.
Now we know what the ginger midget was working on.
It will revolutionize warfare.
Yes, killing a lot of people.
Now, there's seven minutes until noon. What are we going to do?
Right. How many men did you count on the...?
She loves an entrance, your muse.
Woman!
Shoot him. Now, please.
My lords.
The time has come...
for only those who believe to remain.
Behold...
Lord Blackwood.
You seem surprised.
I have returned from beyond the grave to fulfill England's destiny...
and extend the boundaries of this great empire.
Listen to the rabble outside.
Listen...
to the fear.
I will use that as a weapon...
to control them...
and then the world.
I've never seen anything like it. Look at this.
Specifically designed to prevent us from disarming it.
These components appear to be designed to receive a signal of some sort.
Electromagnetic waves?
When triggered, the electrodes
will send a charge converting the chemical into gas.
The gas will travel up that shaft
and filter through the ventilation system that leads directly to Parliament.
Within seconds of its administration, the most powerful
men in the world will be choking on death.
Blackwood must have some kind of transmitter
that he can activate remotely.
3 minutes, 10 seconds.
I will create an empire that will endure for millennia...
indestructible...
and eternal.
Move it. Move it.
We don't actually have to disarm the device,
we just have to remove the cylinders.
Yes, except that they're welded in.
What we need is a controlled explosion.
We'll need a container to direct the blast. My clay pipe should service that ambition.
I rather wish you hadn't done that, Irene.
On the 12th chime, I will summon the dark powers.
All those of you who are with me shall be protected.
All others...
will perish.
I need your pipe.
Nut him!
-Right. -What?
-Coat. -Got it.
The new order...
begins now.
Woman.
What are you waiting for?
That.
Apprehend Lord Coward.
-Can you manage? -Of course I can.
Relax...
I'm a doctor.
Did you take a wrong turning somewhere?
We're safe now.
Interesting assessment.
Run off.
I won't be chasing you anymore.
Fare thee well.
I don't want to run anymore.
-I'll tell you everything. -I wish you would.
No!
There was never any magic.
Only conjuring tricks.
The simplest involved paying people off,
like the guard who pretended to be possessed outside your cell.
Your reputation and the inmates' fear did the rest.
Others required more elaborate preparations...
like the sandstone slab that covered your tomb.
You had it broken before your burial, then put back togetherusing a mild adhesive.
An ancient Egyptian recipe, I believe,
a mixture of egg and honey...
designed to be washed away by the rain.
Holmes!
Arranging for your father to drown in his own bathtub
required more modern science.
Very clever of Reordan to find a paralytic...
that was activated by the combination of copper and water...
and was therefore undetectable once the bath water was drained.
That migh've been quite a challenge for me
had he not also tested it on some unfortunate amphibians.
The death of Standish was a real mystery...
until you used the same compound to blow up the wharf.
An odorless, tasteless flammable liquid...
yet it burned with an unusual pinkish hue.
Did Standish mistake it for rain as he entered the temple?
All it took was a spark.
A simple rigged bullet in his gun.
Ingenious.
Like all great performers, you saved your piece de resistance for the end:
A chemical weapon distilled from cyanide and refined in the bellies of swine.
Had it worked...
your followers in Parliament would have watched unharmed...
as their colleagues were dying around them.
They didn't know you'd given them the antidote.
Instead, they would've believed it was magic
and that you'd harnessed the ultimate power.
And the world would've followed, fear being the most powerful weapon of all.
You'd better hope that it's nothing more than superstition
as you performed all the rituals perfectly.
The devil is due a soul, I'd say.
For God's sake, Holmes, cut me loose.
First, the world will see you for what you are. A fraud.
Then you'll be hanged.
Properly, this time.
It's a long journey from here to the rope.
I've never woken up in handcuffs before.
I have.
Naked.
Storm's coming.
Well, we've still got a moment.
Moriarty.
What?
That's his name.
And he is a professor.
Everyone has a weak spot...
and he found mine.
Where was it, precisely?
Please don't underestimate him.
He's just as brilliant as you are...
and infinitely more devious.
We'll see about that.
You'll miss me, Sherlock.
Sadly...
yes.
Just keep it under your hat.
Afternoon, sir. I put the notebooks in this one, sir.
-Thank you. -What's in these, John?
Scribbles.
-Scribbles? -Notes.
They're your adventures. I'd like to read them.
Come on, what's wrong?
Do you think his finally come to terms with you leaving?
Mary, look at the ring he's given us.
Now, five minutes here and we'll go home.
Our home.
Get up those stairs.
Don't worry, dear.
Suicide is not in his repertoire.
He's far too fond of himself for that.
Holmes.
Good afternoon.
I was trying to deduce the manner in which Blackwood survived his execution.
Clearing your good name, as it were.
But it had a surprisingly soporific effect
and I was carried off in the arms of Morpheus like a caterpillar in a cocoon.
Good afternoon, dear.
Get on with it, Holmes.
Cleverly concealed in the hangman's knot was a hook.
Dear, my legs have fallen asleep. I should come down.
John, shouldn't we help him down?
No, no, no, I hate to cut him off midstream.
Carry on.
Well, the executioner attached it to a harness,
thus allowing the weight to be distributed around the waist...
and the neck to remain intact.
My Lord, I can't feel my cheeks. Might we continue this at ground level?
How did you manage it, Holmes?
I managed it with braces, belts and a coat hook.
Oh, please Watson, my tongue is going, and I'll be of no use to you at all.
-Worse things could happen. -John.
Yet none of this explains Blackwood's lack of pulse.
Right.
Now, the medical mystery. We must restore your reputation, Watson.
There is a toxin refined from the nectar of the rhododendron ponticum.
It's quite infamous in the region of Turkey bordering the Black Sea
for its ability to induce an apparently mortal paralysis.
Enough to mislead a medical mind
even as tenacious and well-trained as your own.
-It's known locally as... -What's wrong with Gladstone?
Mad honey disease.
He's demonstrating the very effect I've just described.
He doesn't mind.
Mary, don't worry, he's seen far worse.
Mr. Holmes?
Doctor. Miss Mary.
Sir, Inspector Lestrade asks that you come with me right away.
-What is it is this time, Clarkie? -It's one of our sergeants, sir.
He went missing in the sewers the day you stopped Lord Blackwood.
I'm afraid sewage workers found his body just this morning, sir.
We believe the sergeant was our first man on the scene.
Can I help you, officer?
Shot in the head.
Was is it a small caliber bullet?
Yes.
Were there powder burns on his eyebrows?
Indeed, sir.
Point blank range?
Moriarty.
Professor Moriarty.
There's a good boy.
Everything's gonna be fine.
Where is Blackwood's device now?
Secret Service have it, sir. They've taken over the case.
I'd wager there's a piece missing.
So Moriarty was after a piece of the machine...
not the poison.
There's nothing more elusive than an obvious fact.
The wire-free invention was the game all along.
And Adler was just the diversion.
He knew I'd chase after her, thereby leaving the machine accessible.
A technology of that kind would be worth an untold fortune.
Imagine being able to control any device
simply by sending a command via radio waves.
It's the future, Watson.
I've loaded the last of your boxes, sir.
-Well... -Well...
-Gladstone. -Stop him before he gets to the front door.
Clarkie?
Case reopened.