The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes

I do beg your pardon.

This is the right train for Aldersgate, is it not?

Aldersgate, by all means, ma'am. Aldersgate, of course.

Oh, allow me.

Oh, thank you.

What a relief.

You see, I have an appointment

in St. Paul's churchyard at 5:00.

Ma'am, it is only a quarter past 4:00.

You have plenty of time.

I thank you.

My dear, what a happy surprise!

[ Coughs 1

Dear.

No wonder Laura prefers to ride on the omnibus.

[ Coughing 1

Ohh!

Oh, my eye.

Oh, it was a cinder.

Easy.

How kind of you.

Thank you, my dear.

These tubes.

I think this must be Farringdon Street.

Perhaps you'd nett-

Ohh!

Oh, thank you.

Farringdon Street!

This is Farringdon Street Station!

All change here, please!

All change!

I must apologize, ma'am.

This train certainly should have gone

straight through to Aldersgate.

This is Farringdon Street!

Hurry along, if you please.

Come along, then, lady.

Where are you for?

In late Victorian times there were many detectives --

the rivals of Sherlock Homes.

"Only when the burly shadows of the two police constables

fell across the tracks

did the scattered passengers realize something was amiss."

Turgid stuff.

Now, if only I were writing that article.

You'd give us all the salient facts, eh, Polly --

what the well-dressed inspector is wearing?

What'll it be today?

Silverside, if you please, and carrots and pease pudding.

You take my advice, Polly.

You stick to the fashion columns.

You meet a better class of person there, you know?

Mutton and boiled for me, please, miss.

Besides, you do it so well, Pol --

all that about Lady Thingummy's hat

and Miss What-You-May-Call-lts sunshade.

Not to mention a rather neat little sally

from the Bishop of Madagascar.

Very well, Sergeant Frobisher, have your laugh out.

Don't you want any pudding, Pol?

No, thank you, Sergeant, and neither do you.

Ah, I thought perhaps a treacle tart.

Very bad for your concentration.

I mean, a fella could never catch

all that clever detail, Pol,

not the way you do it.

If you want my opinion,

the Echo's very lucky to have a girl like you on its staff.

Now, what we really need is a firsthand account...

Look here, Pol. There's a matinee tomorrow.

...from someone who was working on the spot...

It's at the Palace Theatre.

...presumably in touch with the police...

It's with Maud Allan.

...but who concentrates on the facts.

Polly, I wondered if you'd care to go with me.

Oh, of course I would, Richard. Now, when do you go on duty?

Oh, not until 6:00.

That leaves us plenty of time for the matinee,

and then I thought afterwards we could --

Oh, bother the matinee.

When do you go on duty at the mortuary?

The mortuary. Polly.

6:00 in the evening.

That will suit me very well.

I want to be able to tell my readers

exactly what she looks like, every article of her dress.

They don't want to know all that.

Oh, of course they do, Richard.

They want to know what perfume she uses, how she did her hair.

Well, steady on, so far, we don't even know her name.

In that case, Sergeant Frobisher,

perhaps the Echo might be able to help you find out.

Oh, bother!

One of my afternoons with Uncle Arthur.

Then you'll never get away.

Oh, but tomorrow, after the matinee, you could come along --

Oh, I shall simply have to insist.

You know what he's like.

- I have an idea. -Richard.

By the way, does he still eat monkey-nuts?

"Furthermore, inasmuch as your unfortunate client

has not only placed himself

fundamentally on the wrong side of the law --"

Oh, double "I" before the if you please, Polly.

"But has demonstrably been driven and driven hard

by blind and reckless greed."

Is that a full stop, Uncle Arthur?

Certainly not.

And, Polly, while it may be true

that I allowed your mother shamelessly to prevail upon me

to employee you as my amanuensis,

it is scarcely necessary for you to remind me of our relationship

each time you address me.

But, Uncle, I don't.

But me no "buts" and uncle me no "Uncles."

Ah!

Mmm.

Now, where was I?

"Driven hard by blind and reckless greed."

Precisely.

Never forget, Polly, that in 9 cases out of 10,

the key to any crime is money.

Try to remember that,

if you forget everything else I try to teach you.

"Cui bono" -- isn't that the expression, Sir Arthur --

"Who stands to gain?"

Precisely what we have here are tricks

to make it appear a crime of passion,

heartbreak for the dying mother --

all utter bunkum!

What they were after was the money!

Am I right?

Beyond question, Sir Arthur.

Mm.

Well, we must hope that this letter

frightens old Richardson enough.

We haven't a hope of proving a word of it in court.

But surely, if you know that someone is guilty --

Worthless, my dear Polly.

The law isn't interested in what we know,

but in what we can prove.

You mean a guilty person might go free?

If nothing can be proven, of course.

How else can the law work?

Oh, there must be witnesses.

Witnesses can disappear or simply not come forward.

Because they're afraid?

Sometimes.

If a murderer knew you had evidence against him,

would not you be afraid, Polly?

Hmm, certainly not.

I intend to report the truth to my readers

exactly as the police find it.

Very laudable, my dear.

Ah!

Oriental wine gums --

safely hidden from Mrs. Judson's mop

by Hallway's "Laws of England, Volume Twelve."

Underground mystery! Who's the lovely lady?

Absolutely bedlam in the chambers

since they built that viaduct.

They brought the lady in last night, you know.

There's been quite a crowd to view her body all day.

Ghouls, my dear Polly, ghouls.

The phenomenon of human nature

at once deeply rooted and deeply to be deplored.

The secret of success in the legal profession, you see,

is a knowledge of psychology.

Underground mystery! Who's the lovely lady?

Read the whole story!

Oh, I know, Sir Arthur,

but they do say that she's the loveliest corpse

that Holborn has ever seen.

Underground mystery! Who's the lovely lady?

Could you help us, please?

My sister has disappeared.

And I thought just possibly --

You'd like to view the lady found on the railway.

Yes, if you'll just sign your name, sir, in the register.

Good evening.

Is Sergeant Frobisher --

You're Miss Burton, is it?

Yeah, straight through that door.

Thank you.

Was yesterday the 12th?

The 13th.

Oh, hello, Polly.

Have you had a look at her, then?

Yes, I have.

Come sit down.

There must be somebody --

There must be somebody

who could tell us who she was, yes.

You might think so, mightn't you?

Thank you, Constable.

70, 80 people walked through there today and gaped at her.

You might think one of them

would be able to tell us her name.

Are those her belongings?