This is... Lord Waterbrook
By the way, my lord...
why are you holding the fork in the
right hand and the knife in the left?
I find it more comfortable.
The Murder of Lord Waterbrook
in a film by
Aleksandr Bubnov
Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson
Baker Street, 221b
It's a bullet!
Oh my gosh, Holmes!
It is assassination.
No, Watson, it is murder.
And so Watson, here's the window of our
house.  It has the hole left by the bullet.
Now look at this tree.
You see the broken branch.
Let us connect these two
points with a dotted line,
and continue it.
Our result will be a third point, notably
the window of the house across the street.
It was from there that the bullet came,
and it was there that the murder took place.
It's elementary, Watson.
I figured out that it was that house prior
to the conclusion of your argument, Holmes.
Well now.
It seems that I underestimate
you, my friend.
With what method?
There is a policeman in front of the house.
It seems that the police was already notified.
Excuse me, sir.
Good morning, constable.
I assume that Inspector Lestrade
is already here.
And who are you?
This is the greatest detective of all times
and nations, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
and I'm his friend, and assistant, Dr. Watson.
Don't you read books?
Why?  I do...
this, uh, Guide to Policing, and...
No! Have you not read Conan Doyle, Sir?
Shamefull, my little man.
Well, so be it.
Here you are: a book with an autograph
and... pictures.
Let's go, Holmes.
Calm down, everyone, calm down.
They can pass.  They're from...
Conan Doyle.
Look, Watson.
Let us continue our dotted line.
Here is the first casualty.
are there several?
At least two.
I ascertained this from the bullet.
Your visit, sir... how should I explain it?
You will never again have to explain
anything, my dear friend.
You are murdered.
I apologize, sir.  I'm not
used to it yet, sir.
Here is the bullet hole.
It seems that the bullet
went right through the door.
And also the head of this poor gentleman,
who chose an unlucky place to stand.
Observe, Watson.
You see?
This is Inspector Lestrade.
This is incredible, but how?
How did you know?
Greetings.
You will not shake the hand of
the inspector of Scotland Yard?
Watson, help me.
What nonsense, inspector!
Here is my hand!
By the way, who was this village type
whom you left on the porch?
Exactly.
He did not want to let us pass.
Aah, Watson! You're here as well?
Then again, you're always together.
Well, gentlemen, come in.
Smith, you're free to go.
Yes, sir!
And call Sgt. Baskerville, with the dog.
Well, what would you say, Mr. Holmes?
The gun was from there?
Yes.
And they're all loaded.
Yorkshire Munitions Factory.
Right... the musket is oiled.
Year 1712.
13.
Are there any fingerprints?
No! But this doesn't mean a thing.
The problem is that everyone in this
house wears white gloves,
including the lady of the house.
He made a point of his.
Maniacal cleanliness.
I do not doubt, inspector, that you
already have a version of the events.
Absolutely.
Maybe you could relate it to us?
Well now... well now...
I think that everything was quite simple.
It is suicide, gentlemen!
A typical suicide.
Suicide? At breakfast-time?
The deceased was a nervous, unbalanced type.
This is confirmed by all members of the house.
He could've gone crazy over the smallest thing.
For example, a poorly-made steak.
But the steak is delicious -
try it, Watson!
It's trully quite tasty.
Let me, gentlemen.
Inspector, how thoughtless!
You're not alone here.
Gentlemen, gentlemen. You already
ate 3 pieces, and I only ate 2!
You're counting pieces? Shamefull, inspector.
Hmm, right.
And do you have your own version?
I would like to speak with
the members of the house.
These are the members of the house.
There are four of them.
The wife of the deceased, Lady Waterbrook,
his personal chauffeur
the young cleaning lady with the huge bust
and finally the