were only 2 in the house -
the killer and his victim.
Therefore the killer must
have been the cabby.
A not so tall man in a
brown coat
with a red face.
But there are 4 million
people in London.
And god knows how many
cabbies.
How do you find the right one,
when you know so little?
Watson, I knew his name.
No, it is not a miracle.
I sent a telegram to Cleveland
and got an answer.
They wrote that Drebber
complained about his rival,
a man by the name of
Jefferson Hope.
There was one catch in
this case however,
until I found out one of
the pills was harmless.
But when I found out that the
killer gives his victim
an equal chance...
I somehow felt sorry
for this cruel and merciless,
but at the same time
noble young man.
There's one of the unpleasant
sides of a detective's work.
My job is to solve crimes,
but often the criminal evokes
more sympathy than the victim.
I must admit,
I don't give all the criminals
away to law-enforcement bodies.
Why?
There are certain minor
crimes,
when a person is punished
with the fear of being caught.
And it is a guarantee that
next time he will think twice
before doing something
like that again.
But if you put him to jail,
the jail habits will haunt him
for the rest of his life.
But I'm afraid that doesn't
refer to Jefferson Hope.
He ruined himself with his
own hands.
A man can't be guided with just
the craving for revenge.
It is one of the most useless
feelings, it dries out the soul.
I always felt sorry for
Count Monte Cristo.
What a waste of talent
and money!
The one from the novel? I didn't
read it. And Jefferson Hope...
Tonight Jefferson Hope died
in prison.
- I knew it.
- He killed himself?
It was a stroke.
- Maybe he was lucky.
- What do the papers write?
They praise Gregson,
and more so Lestrade.
And what about you?
Not a word about me, as usual.
What monstrous ingratitude!
As of this day I will start
writing myself.
I shall be your chronicler.
And I won't allow them to
misappropriate your merits.
Yes, they'll read my stories in
all the different languages,
in Austria, in Japan,
in Russia!
If I'll be damned!
Written by
Yuly Dunskoy, Valery Frid
Directed by
Igor Maslennikov
Director of photography
Yury Veksler
Production designer
Mark Kaplan
Music by
Vladimir Dashkevich