I can't ever speak Thank you for me. Thank you for me. As our story begins, the city and suburban bank of London takes delivery of a shipment of armored

wooden crates from the protection of a well-guarded carriage.

All things in order, a bank associate signs the manifest, acknowledging receipt of the goods.

But as the carriage departs, an envelope falls to the ground,

intentionally dropped by the driver.

An envelope which is promptly retrieved by his Confederate.

Later, the Confederate delivers the missive into the villainous hands of his employer, who reveals it to be a confidential

document from the Bank of France. The commission of a dastardly crime has begun.

And so begins the adventure of the Red-Headed League.

In the Winter 1992 issue of the Armchair Detective, Michael Cox and Jeremy Brett tried to shed some light

on their occasional decision to deviate from the canonical texts. Cox proffered the following.

In most cases, I think we've been pretty faithful to the stories. But the fact remains that we did

depart from the text at times. We added things or changed things. I hope that we've never

done anything which went against the spirit of what Conan Doyle wrote. But there's often

a difference between what works on the page and what works in a dramatic medium.

To which, Jeremy Brett added,

We have put little bits into one story and taken little bits from another,

but the ones that really work are very, very powerful, cinematic stories.

But then you get some that are not so cinematic. They're

interesting, but they're different. I would never have believed that the Red-Headed League

would be a cinematic success, but it was. Jeremy Brett later admitted to enjoying the filming of the Red-Headed League immensely.

To David Stewart Davies, he confided,

...