毫无线索 (1988)

Inspector Lestrade:

Half a tick, Mr. Holmes. Ye can't go walkin' into someone's residence, pokin' about their personal possessions, disruptin' their privacy... That's for Scotland Yard.

Holmes:

An occasional libation enables me to stiffen my resolve.

Mrs. Hudson:

Your resolve should be pickled by now!

Watson:

I'll ask you once more: Are you coming with me?

Holmes:

I would rather waltz naked through the fires of Hell.

Holmes:

MORIARTY?

Watson:

Oh, for God's sake...

Holmes:

You didn't tell me that homicidal maniac was in on this!

Watson:

That's because I knew you'd behave this way.

Holmes:

Bravo! Another triumph for deductive reasoning!

Holmes:

It wasn't YOU he tried to kill!

Watson:

Think man, think... Who was SUPPOSED to be in that room?

Holmes:

That's right! You were!

Watson:

Moriarty knows... I'm am the only match for his evil genius.

Holmes:

You mean he's not trying to kill me?

Watson:

Of course not. He knows you're an idiot.

Holmes:

Oh, thank God.

Holmes:

How can I be expected to maintain the character when you belittle me in front of those hooligans?

Watson:

Character? Are we talking about the same man who once declared with total conviction that the late Colonel Howard had been bludgeoned to death with a blunt *excrement*?

Holmes:

Is it my fault you have such poor handwriting?

[Holmes and Watson are walking through some woods. Holmes is looking up into the trees]

Holmes:

What am I looking for?

Watson:

Footprints.

Holmes:

Ah.

[Holmes looks down]

Holmes:

Have I found any yet?

Watson:

Not yet.

Holmes:

Well let me know when I do.

Holmes:

Lovely story, Watson. But on page 2 you have me admitting a mistake.

Watson:

A writer must write of which he knows...

Holmes:

I'm reminded of the curious case of the Manchurian Mambo...

Watson:

Holmes, could I have a word?

Holmes:

Yes, what is it?

25

Watson

ffb

:

I believe that was the Manchurian Mamba.

Holmes:

Mambo, mamba. What's the difference?

Watson:

Well, very little, except that one is a deadly, poisonous snake, while the other is a rather festive Carribean dance.

Holmes:

It was a night like any other, when suddenly a knock came at the door. I opened it, and there were these Manchurians, doing a rather festive Carribean dance...

Watson:

Lord Mayor! Don't move until Holmes has searched the area for clues!

Holmes:

My GOD I've trained you well, Watson!

[Watson reveals the ongoing deception to his publisher]

Greenhough:

We'll start at the beginning, shall we?

Dr. Watson:

It was about nine years ago. One of my patients was a Scotland Yard inspector investigating the Paxton murder case. I give him the name of the murderer, but gave credit to a, heh, nonexistent detective. At the time, I was hoping for an appointment to the staff of a rather conservative medical college; I... knew that they'd frown on my little, uh...

Greenhough:

Hobby...

Dr. Watson:

Exactly. Well, I didn't get the appointment. Instead, what I got was a quite unanticipated public demand to meet this "Sherlock Holmes."

Greenhough:

So you hired this Reginald Kincaid.

Dr. Watson:

He was an actor. Unfortunately, he was also a gambler, a womanizer, and a drunkard.

Greenhough:

John, you have jeopardized the integrity of English literature! Still, I should have known. He was always borrowing large sums of money off me and, uh, never paying me back.

Dr. Watson:

The cad!

Greenhough:

Oh, don't worry, we deducted it from your royalties.

Dr. Watson:

But it's time now for the public to learn the truth!

Greenhough:

The - truth?

Dr. Watson:

Certainly. No one will want to read of that twit again. His popularity will plummet. They'll be desperate for my new creation.

Greenhough:

What new creation?

Dr. Watson:

John Watson, the Crime Doctor! I can have it ready for your very next issue.

[Watson tries working without "Holmes"]

Dr. Watson:

That's right. John Watson, the Crime Doctor.

Policeman:

Crime Doctor? Never heard of him. Though, uh, your name sounds a bit familiar.

Dr. Watson:

[grudgingly] All right. I am Dr. John Watson, author of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries.

Policeman:

[warming] Sherlock Holmes?

Dr. Watson:

Yesssss.

Policeman:

THE Sherlock Holmes?

Dr. Watson:

Yesssss.

Policeman:

Me and the wife... has read every one of his stories.

Dr. Watson:

All right. Now, if you'll excuse...

Policeman:

But I'm sorry, doctor. I still can't let you in. Strict orders about that, I'm afraid. Uh, Mr. Holmes, did he, uh, send you here?

Dr. Watson:

He certainly did not!

Policeman

ffb

:

Well, perhaps the next time you should check with him first, eh? Save yourself a trip.

Inspector Lestrade:

His Lordship wishes to see Mr. Holmes.

Dr. Watson:

I'm sorry to say he's not here at the moment.

Lord Smithwick:

Oh, how disappointing.

Inspector Lestrade:

Sir, as I said before, I really don't think Mr. Holmes' involvement in this case is at all necessary.

Dr. Watson:

I quite agree.

Inspector Lestrade:

You do?

Dr. Watson:

However, the Crime Doctor is at your disposal.

Inspector Lestrade:

Who the deuce is the Crime Doctor?

Dr. Watson:

Believe it or not, I'm every bit Holmes's equal as a detective.

Lord Smithwick:

[scoffing] Dr. Watson...

Dr. Watson:

Ha ha, I happen to know that you recently recovered from an illness; that you smoke a pipe, ah!, probably, uh, rosewood; and you spent time in China...

Inspector Lestrade:

[interrupting] Sorry, doctor, this is no time for parlor games.

Dr. Watson:

I'm not playing parlor games-...

Inspector Lestrade:

Doctor, this is a matter for professionals!

Sherlock Holmes:

[bursting in] You've got to help me! There's two big men...

Dr. Watson:

Holmes, you're back - so good to see you! My, this is a clever disguise - a drunken lout. Ha, very realistic.

Sherlock Holmes:

There's two - this one big fellow...

Dr. Watson:

Ah, excuse us just a moment.

[He whisks Holmes into the next room; after some banging about they return, now calm]

Dr. Watson:

Gentlemen, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes:

Ah, Lestrade. It's good to see the department's letting you out at night again. Lord Smithwick - trouble at the exchequer?

Lord Smithwick:

Well, to be honest - Wait, how did you know?

Sherlock Holmes:

The same way that I can tell you recently recovered from an illness; smoke a pipe, probably rosewood; and have spent some time in...

Dr. Watson:

[prompting] China.

Sherlock Holmes:

China.

Lord Smithwick:

AMAZING!

Sherlock Holmes:

Thank you. Uh, uh, Lord, uh, Smithwick, um, before we start, perhaps a... little sherry?

Lord Smithwick:

I wish we could. But the matter which brings me here involves the fate of the entire Empire.

Sherlock Holmes:

I see. Perhaps a whiskey, then?

Holmes:

As a matter of fact, Lestrade, You can be some help.

Inspector Lestrade:

Of course!

Holmes:

Hold my coat, it's hot in here.

Watson:

Mandchurian mambo...

[slaps a bush]

Watson:

Steady, Watson! Just get through it one more time! Then you're rid of that fellow... What a pleasant thought!

[breezes hearable]

Watson:

I feel much better... quite euphoric!

Holmes:

[coming back drunken to the hotel] Holmes, sweet Holmes!

Lord Smithwick:

And I don't have to tell you what that would mean.

Sherlock Holmes:

Yes you do.

Sherlock Holmes:

What are you doing?

Dr. Watson:

Thinking.

Sherlock Holmes:

Right. I'm going to think too.

[Long pause]

Sherlock Holmes:

What shall we think about, Watson?

Sherlock Holmes:

Ah, now, now, we know for a fact that Giles was on the boat.

Dr. Watson:

No, we don't.

Sherlock Holmes:

Oh. Well, we do know for a fact that Giles arrived in Windermere.

Dr. Watson:

No he didn't.

Sherlock Holmes:

(He didn't? I thought he did.) Ah. Well, we really know that Giles was behind the theft of the printing plates.

Dr. Watson:

No, he wasn't.

Leslie:

Oh, you brave, brave man!

Sherlock Holmes:

Danger is my trade - but not yours. It's unsafe for you to sleep alone tonight, unattended.

Dr. Watson:

Yes, we insist you stay with us.

Leslie:

Oh, but, but surely I'd be an imposition.

Sherlock Holmes:

Think nothing of it, my dear.

Dr. Watson:

Indeed. Holmes will be working... all night anyway, so you can have his room.

Sherlock Holmes:

I warn you, sir, I've killed as many as six men in a week. Eight if you count matinees.

Sherlock Holmes:

I've got it! His real name is Arty-Morti!

Sherlock Holmes:

[after poking a dead man with a stick] It is my opinion... that he is dead.

Holmes:

I couldn't detect horse manure if I stepped in it!

Watson:

Last night, Holmes realized how stupid he had been.

Holmes:

Now, I didn't say stupid...

Watson:

Yes, you did.

[Holmes has just tried and failed to hang himself]

Mrs. Hudson:

Mr. Holmes! What would Dr. Watson say?

Holmes:

He would have offered to kick the chair out from underneath me!

[Holmes is approached by two menacing-looking thugs in a pub]

Holmes:

Ah, gentlemen. And what can I do for you? A mystery to be solved?

Thug:

6f

You might say that. There's a little matter of a gambling debt, and the mystery is why you ain't paid it.

fa9

Sebastian:

[returning from investigating a strange noise] Nothing, Professor. Probably rats.

Professor James Moriarty:

Ah, yes. Rats.

[Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty prepare to have a swordfight on the stage of the Orpheum Theater]

Professor James Moriarty:

Ordinarily I do not bother with half-wits and buffoons.

[Holmes reaches to draw a sword from nearby, but grabs Mrs. Hudson's umbrella by accident]

Holmes:

Buffoons, is it?

[Moriarty looks annoyed. Realizing his mistake, Holmes quickly tosses the umbrella aside and draws a sword for real this time]

Holmes:

Buffoon, is it?

Mrs. Hudson:

[Looking on with Dr. Watson] He'll be killed!

Dr. Watson:

I quite doubt it, Mrs. Hudson. He's in his element now.

[Professor Moriarty and Sebastian watch from afar as Inspector Lestrade and Lord Smithwick leave 221B Baker Street]

Sebastian:

Do you suppose he took the case, Professor?

Professor James Moriarty:

What? My dear boy, how could he resist? This is turning out so very well.

[Holmes and Watson enter a home and Watson picks up the mail]

Dr. Watson:

Oh, a French postcard.

Holmes:

Really?

[he takes the card from Watson]

Holmes:

I know a chap who collected these once. He had this wonderful one... two women... oh, it's just a picture of the Eiffel Tower.

Wiggins:

You know, I kind of liked you better when you was a coward.

Leslie:

[waking up after being knocked cold] Oh, my head...

Mrs. Hudson:

It's all right, dear. It's still there.

Inspector Lestrade:

You're alive!

Watson:

Astounding observation, Inspector. We must discuss it.

Holmes:

The Shadow of Death. The gripping drama was the last play presented at the Orpheum. It closed after only one night, but not without garnering some praise. Harris in the Daily Telegram said, 'In an otherwise dismal evening, Reginald Kincaid provided some welcome laughs.'

Wiggins:

You said it was a gripping drama!

Holmes:

It's unimportant now, isn't it?

Tavern patron:

A toast to the greatest detective in all the world.

Holmes:

Thank you, gentlemen. I am touched.

Watson:

I can vouch for that!

Lord Mayor Gerald Fitzwalter Johnson:

Well, Mr. Holmes. Any theories?

Holmes:

Obviously, the victim had been caught in a storm too far from shore to swim for it.

Lord Mayor Gerald Fitzwalter Johnson:

5b

Yes, and with that heavy suitcase attached to his wrist, and the lake being so deep.

d8f

Holmes:

Quite. Pulled the poor wretch to the bottom, struggling futilely, flailing desperately as the cold, black water sealed his fate forever Well, it's certainly been a lark! Thank you.

Watson:

Holmes believes your father has been abducted.

Leslie:

Abducted? By who?

Sherlock Holmes:

Abductors

Watson:

Have you got your revolver with you?

Holmes:

Yeah, sure.

[fumbles around]

Holmes:

Here it is.

Watson:

Right, now I'm going to let you have some bullets for it. Try not to shoot yourself - at least, not until I give the signal.