A Study in Pink
Therapist: How’s your blog going?
Dr. John H. Watson (Martin Freeman): Yeah good. Very good.
Therapist: You haven’t written a word, have you?
Watson: You just wrote “Still has trust issues”.
Therapist: And you read my writing upside down. You see what I mean? John, you’re a soldier. It’s gonna take you a while to adjust to civilian life. And writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you.
Watson: Nothing happens to me.
At the press conference
Reporter1: Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?
Detective Inspector Lestrade (Rupert Graves): Well they all took the same poison. They were all found in places they had no reason to be. None of them had shown any prior indications—
Reporter1: But you can’t have serial suicides.
DI Lestrade: Well apparently you can.
Reporter2: These three people, there’s nothing that links them?
DI Lestrade: There’s no link found yet. But we’re looking for it—there has to be one. Everyone’s cellphones go off
Sgt Sally Donovan: If you’ve all got texts, please ignore them.
Reporter1: It just says “Wrong!”
Sgt Sally Donovan: Yeah, well, just ignore that. If there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade I’m going to bring this session to an end.
Reporter2: If they’re suicides what are you investigating?
DI Lestrade: As I said these suicides are clearly linked, um, but it’s an unusual situation. We’ve got our best people investigating— {cellphones go off again}
Reporter1: It says “wrong” again.
Reporter3: Is there any chance that these are murders and if they are is this the work of a serial killer?
DI Lestrade: I know that you’d like writing about this but these do appear to be suicides. We know the difference. The poison was clearly self-administered.
Reporter1: Yes but if they are murders how do people keep themselves safe?
DI Lestrade: Well don’t commit suicide.
Donovan about the texts: You’ve got to stop him doing that. He’s making us look like idiots.
Lestrade: If you can tell me how he does it I’ll stop him.
Watson: Are you still at Bart’s then?
Stamford: Teaching now, yeah. Bright young things like we used to be. God I hate them.
Stamford: I don’t know. You could get a flat share or something.
Watson: C’mon. Who’d want me for a flatmate. Stamford looks at him oddly. What?
Stamford: Well you’re the second person to say that to me today.
Watson: Who’s the first?
Molly Hooper: Listen, I was wondering… maybe later, when you’re finished—
Sherlock Holmes (Benedict Cumberbatch): You’re wearing lipstick. You weren’t wearing lipstick before.
Molly Hooper: I uh, I refreshed it a bit.
Sherlock: Sorry, you were saying?
Molly Hooper: I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee.
Sherlock: Black. Two sugars please. I’ll be upstairs. he exits
Molly Hooper to herself: Okay.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, Molly! Coffee. Thank you. What happened to the lipstick?
Molly: It wasn’t working for me.
Sherlock Holmes: Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth’s too small now.
Molly to herself: Okay.
Mrs. Hudson: What d’you think then, Dr. Watson? There’s another bedroom upstairs if you’ll be needing two bedrooms.
Watson: Of course we’ll be needing two.
Mrs. Hudson: Oh don’t worry, there’s all sorts around here. Mrs. Turner next door’s got married ones.
Sherlock: Possible suicides. Four of them. There’s no point sitting at home when there’s finally something fun going on!
Mrs. Hudson: Look at you, all happy. It’s not decent.
Sherlock: Who cares about decent. The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!
Sherlock: Is your wife away for long?
Anderson: Oh don’t pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that.
Sherlock: Your deodorant told me that.
Anderson: My deodorant.
Sherlock: It’s for men.
Anderson: Well of course it’s for men. I’m wearing it.
Sherlock: So’s Sergeant Donovan. Anderson turns to look at her. Oof. I think it just vaporized.
Lestrade: I’m breaking every rule letting you in here.
Sherlock: Yes. Because you need me.
Lestrade: Yes I do. God help me.
Donovan: You’re not his friend. He doesn’t have friends. So who are you?
Watson: I’m… I’m nobody. I’ve just met him.
Donovan: Okay, bit of advice then. Stay away from that guy.
Watson: Why?
Donovan: You know why he’s here? He’s not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won’t be enough. One day we’ll be standing around a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there.
Watson: Why would he do that?
Donovan: ‘Cause he’s a psychopath. Psychopaths get bored.
Mysterious Gentleman: I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having.
Watson: And what’s that?
Mysterious Gentleman: An enemy.
Watson: An enemy?
Mysterious Gentleman: In his mind certainly. If you were to ask him he’d probably say his archenemy. He does love to be dramatic.
Watson: Well thank god you’re above all that.
Mysterious Gentleman: Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?
Watson: I could be wrong, but I think that’s none of your business.
Mysterious Gentleman: It could be.
Watson: It really couldn’t.
Watson: Listen, your boss. Any chance you could not tell him this is where I went?
Anthea: Sure.
Watson: You’ve told him already haven’t you.
Anthea: Yeah.
Watson: Hey, um, do you ever get any free time?
Anthea: Oh yeah. Lots. pointedly. Bye.
Sherlock: What are you doing?
Lestrade: Well I knew you’d find the case. I’m not stupid.
Sherlock: You can’t just break into my flat.
Lestrade: Well you can’t withhold evidence. And I didn’t break in to your flat.
Sherlock: Well what do you call this then?
Lestrade: It’s a drugs bust.
Sherlock: I’m not your sniffer dog.
Lestrade: No, Anderson’s my sniffer dog.
Sherlock: What? Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?
Anderson: Oh I volunteered.
Lestrade: They all did. They’re not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they’re very keen.
Sherlock: So you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?
Lestrade: It stops being pretend if they find anything.
Sherlock: I am clean!
Lestrade: Is your flat? All of it?
Sherlock: I don’t even smoke.
Anderson: According to someone, the murderer has the case and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath.
Sherlock: I’m not a psychopath, Anderson. I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research.
Cabbie: Taxi for Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock: I didn’t order a taxi.
Cabbie: Doesn’t mean you don’t need one.
Sherlock: You’re the cabbie. The one who stopped outside Northumberland Street. It was you, not your passenger.
Cabbie: See. No one ever thinks about the cabbie. It’s like you’re invisible. Just the back of an ‘ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer.
Sherlock: Is this a confession?
Cabbie: Oh yeah. I’ll tell you what else, if you call the coppers now I won’t run. I’ll sit quiet and they can take me down, I promise.
Sherlock: Why?
Cabbie: ‘Cause you’re not going to do that.
Sherlock: Am I not?
Cabbie: I didn’t kill those four people, Mr. Holmes. I spoke to them and they killed themselves. If you get the coppers now I promise you one thing: I will never tell you what I said.
Sherlock: No one else will die though and I believe they call that a result.
Cabbie: But you won’t ever understand how those people died. What kind of result do you care about?
Sherlock: If I wanted to understand, what would I do?
Cabbie: Let me take you for a ride.
Sherlock: So you can kill me too.
Cabbie: I don’t want to kill you, Mr. Holmes. I’m gonna talk to you, and then you’re going to kill yourself.
Cabbie: Sherlock Holmes. I was warned about you. I’ve been on your website too. Brilliant stuff. Loved it.
Sherlock: Who warned you about me?
Cabbie: Someone out there who’s noticed.
Sherlock: Who? Who would notice me?
Cabbie: You’re too modest Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: I’m really not.
Lestrade: Why did he do that, why did he have to leave?
Watson: You know him better than I do.
Lestrade: I’ve known him for five years and no I don’t.
Watson: So why do you put up with him?
Lestrade: Because I’m desperate, that’s why. Because Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and I think one day—if we’re very very lucky—he might even be a good one.
Cabbie: One thing about being a cabbie, you always know a nice quiet spot for a murder. I’m surprised more of us don’t branch out.
Cabbie: You ready yet, Mr. Holmes? Ready to play?
Sherlock: Play what? It’s a 50-50 chance.
Cabbie: You’re not playing the numbers you’re playing me. Did I just give you the good pill or the bad pill? Is it a bluff? Or a double-bluff? Or a triple-bluff!
Sherlock: It’s still just chance.
Cabbie: Four people in a row? It’s not chance.
Sherlock: Luck.
Cabbie: It’s genius. I know how people think. I know how people think I think. I can see it all like a map inside my head. Everyone’s so stupid. Even you. Or maybe God just loves me.
Sherlock: And because you’re dying you’ve just murdered four people.
Cabbie: I’ve outlived four people. That’s the most fun you can have with an aneurysm.
Cabbie: When I die they won’t get much, my kids. Not a lot of money in driving cabs.
Sherlock: Or serial killing.
Cabbie: You’d be surprised.
Sherlock: Surprise me.
Cabbie: I have a sponsor.
Sherlock: You have a what?
Cabbie: For every life I take money goes to my kids. The more I kill, the better off they’ll be. See? It’s nicer than you think.
Sherlock: Who would sponsor a serial killer?
Cabbie: Who would be a fan of Sherlock Holmes?
Sherlock: What if I don’t choose either? I could just walk out of here.
Cabbie: You could take the 50-50 chance or I can shoot you in the head. Funny enough, no one’s ever gone for that option.
Sherlock: I’ll have the gun please.
Cabbie: Are you sure?
Sherlock: Definitely. The gun.
Cabbie: You don’t want to phone a friend?
Sherlock: The gun. (which turns out to be a lighter) I know a real gun when I see one.
Cabbie: None of the others did.
Sherlock: Clearly. Well this has been very interesting. I look forward to the court case.
Cabbie: I bet you get bored, don’t ya? I know you do. Man like you. So clever. But what’s the point of being clever if you can’t prove it. Still the addict. But this, this is what you’re really addicted to. You do anything—anything at all to stop being bored. You’re not bored now are ya? Innit good—
Sherlock: Okay, tell me this: your sponsor, who was it? The one who told you about me—my fan. I want a name.
Cabbie: No.
Sherlock: You’re dying and there’s still time to hurt you. Give me a name. A name! Now! The NAME!
Cabbie: Moriarty!
Sherlock: Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me.
Lestrade: Yeah. It’s for shock.
Sherlock: I’m not in shock.
Lestrade: Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs.
Mycroft: Interesting, that soldier fellow. He could be the making of my brother. Or make him worse than ever. Either way we’d better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade 3. Active.
Anthea: Sorry sir, who’s status?
Mycroft: Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.
The Blind Banker
Sebastian Wilkes: Sir William’s office. Bank’s former chairman. Room’s been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night.
Watson: What did they steal?
Sebastian: Nothing. Just left a little message.
Sebastian: There’s a hole in our security. Find it and we’ll pay you. Five figures. This is an advance. Tell me how he got in, there’s a bigger one on its way.
Sherlock: I don’t need an incentive, Sebastian.
Watson: He’s ah… he’s kidding you. Obviously. Shall I look after that for him?
DI Dimmock: We’re obviously looking at a suicide.
Watson: That does seem the only explanation of all the facts.
Sherlock: Wrong. It’s one possible explanation of some of the facts. You’ve got a solution that you like but you’re choosing to ignore anything that doesn’t comply with it.
DI Dimmock: Like?
Sherlock: The wound’s on the right side of his head.
DI Dimmock: And?
Sherlock: Van Coon was left-handed. {demonstrating} Requires quite a bit of contortion.
Sebastian: That was my chairman. The police have been onto him. Apparently they’re telling him it was a suicide.
Sherlock: Well they’ve got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered.
Sebastian: Well. I’m afraid they don’t see it like that. And neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don’t get sidetracked.
Sarah: You’re, um, well you’re a bit over-qualified.
Watson: I could always do with the money.
Sarah: Well we’ve got two on holiday this week and one’s just left to have a baby. Might be a bit mundane for you.
Watson: Ah no, mundane is good sometimes. Mundane works.
Sarah: It says here you’re a soldier.
Watson: And a doctor.
Sarah: Anything else you can do?
Watson: Learned the clarinet at school.
Sarah: Oh! I, I look forward to it.
Community Officer: What the hell do you think you’re doing? This gallery is a listed public building.
Watson: Wait, wait. It’s not me who painted that. I was just holding this for…
Community Officer: Bit of an enthusiast, are we?
DI Dimmock: Your friend—
Watson: Listen, whatever you say I’m behind you 100%.
DI Dimmock: He’s an arrogant sod.
Watson: Well that was mild. People say a lot worse than that.
Sherlock: Tell me more about those teapots.
Andy Galbraith: The pots were her obsession. They need urgent work. If they dry out then the clay can start to crumble. Apparently you have to just keep making tea in them.
Sherlock: Yesterday only one of those pots was shining. Now there are two.
Molly: What are you having?
Sherlock: Don’t eat when I’m working. Digestion slows me down.
Molly: So you’re working here tonight.
Sherlock: I need to examine some bodies.
Molly: Some?
Sherlock: Edie Van Coon and Brian Lukis.
Molly: They’re on my list.
Sherlock: Could you wheel them out again for me?
Molly: Well… their paperwork’s already gone through.
Sherlock: You changed your hair.
Molly: What?
Sherlock: The style—it usually parted in the middle.
Molly: Yes, well.
Sherlock: No it’s good. It suits you better this way.
Mrs. Hudson: Yoo hoo. Sorry. Are we collecting for charity, Sherlock?
Sherlock: What?
Mrs. Hudson: A young man’s outside with crates of books.
Watson: Looks like I’m done. I thought I had some more to see.
Sarah: Oh I did one or two of yours.
Watson: One or two?
Sarah: Well maybe five or six.
Watson: I’m sorry. That’s not very professional.
Sarah: No. No, not really.
Watson: I had a bit of a late one.
Sarah: Oh. Right.
Watson: Anyway, see ya.
Sarah: So— what were you doing to keep you up so late?
Watson: I was attending a sort of book event.
Sarah: Oh, she likes books does she, your girlfriend.
Watson: No, it wasn’t a date.
Sarah: Good. I mean um…
Watson: And I don’t have one tonight.
Sarah: So this is what you do—you and John. You solve puzzles for a living.
Sherlock: Consulting detective.
Sarah: Oh.
Sarah: What are these squiggles?
Sherlock: They’re numbers. An ancient Chinese dialect.
Sarah: Oh right. Yeah well, of course I should have known that.
Sarah: So these numbers, it’s a cipher.
Sherlock: Exactly.
Sarah: And each pair of numbers is a word.
Sherlock: How did you know that?
Sarah: Well two words have already been translated. Here.
Sherlock: John, look at this. Soo Lin at the museum. She started to translate the code for us, we didn’t see it.
General Shan: A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket. Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes.
Watson: I’m not Sherlock Holmes.
General Shan: Forgive me if I do not take your word for it.
General Shan: Three times we tried to kill you and your companion, Mr. Holmes. What does it tell you when an assassin can not shoot straight? It tells you that they’re not really trying.
General Shan: If we wanted to kill you, Mr. Holmes we would have done it b now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive. Do you have it?
Watson: Do I have what?
General Shan: The treasure.
Watson: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
General Shan: I would prefer to make certain. Everything in the West has its price. And the price for her life, information.
General Shan: Where’s the hairpin?
Watson: What?
General Shan: The Empress pin. Valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West. And then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London. And you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching.
Watson: Please, please. Listen to me. I’m not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven’t found whatever it is you’re looking for.
General Shan: Ladies and gentleman, from the distant, moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes’ pretty companion in a death-defying act.
Watson: Please!
General Shan: You’ve seen the act before. How dull for you. You know how it ends.
Watson: I’m not Sherlock Holmes!
General Shan: I don’t believe you.
Sherlock: You should, you know. Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him. How would you describe me, John? Resourceful, dynamic? Enigmatic?
Watson: Late.
Sherlock: I have high hopes for you Inspector. A glittering career.
DI Dimmock: I go where you point me.
Sherlock: Exactly.
Amanda: Amanda.
Sherlock: He brought you a present.
Amanda: Oh. Hello.
Sherlock: A little gift when he came back from China.
Amanda: How did you know that?
Sherlock: You weren’t just his PA, were you?
Amanda: Someone’s been gossiping.
Sherlock: No.
Amanda: Then I don’t understand why—
Sherlock: Scented hand soap in his apartment. 300 ml of it. Bottle almost finished.
Amanda: Sorry—
Sherlock: I don’t think Eddie Van Coon was the type of chap to buy himself hand soap. Not unless he had a lady coming over. And it’s the same brand as that hand creme there on your desk.
Amanda: Look, it wasn’t serious between us. It was over in a flash. It couldn’t last. He was my boss.
Sherlock: What happened? Why did you end it?
Amanda: I thought he didn’t appreciate me. Took me for granted. Stood me up once too often. We’d plan to go away for the weekend and then he’d just leave. Fly off to China at a moment’s notice.
Sherlock: He brought you a present from abroad to say sorry. Can I just have a look at it?
Sebastian: He really climbed up onto the balcony?
Watson: Nail a plank across the window and all your problems are over.
Amanda: He said he bought it in a street market.
Sherlock: Oh I don’t think that’s true. I think he pinched it.
Amanda: Yeah, that’s Eddie.
Sherlock: Didn’t know its value. Just thought it would suit you.
Amanda: Oh? What’s it worth?
Sherlock: Nine million pounds.
Amanda: Oh my god! Oh my god! Nine million!
General Shan: Without you—without your assistance—we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks.
M: Gratitude is meaningless. It is only the expectation of further favours.
General Shan: We did not anticipate. We did not know this man would come. This Sherlock Holmes. And now your safety is compromised.
M: They cannot trace this back to me.
General Shan: I will not reveal your identity.
M: I am certain.
The Great Game
Sherlock: Look at that, Mrs. Hudson. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Isn’t it hateful.
Mrs. Hudson: Oh, I’m sure something will turn up Sherlock. A nice murder. That’ll cheer you up.
Sherlock: Can’t come too soon.
Mrs. Hudson noticing the wall: Hey! What have you done to my bloody wall? {Sherlock admires his handiwork}. I’m putting this on your rent, young man.
Sarah: Maybe next time I’ll let you kip at the end of my bed, you know?
Watson: What about the time after that?
Lestrade: That explosion.
Sherlock: Gas leak, yes?
Lestrade: No.
Sherlock: No?
Lestrade: No. Made to look like one.
Watson: What?
Lestrade: Hardly anything left of the place except a strong box. A very strong box. And inside of it is this.
Sherlock: You haven’t opened it?
Lestrade: It’s addressed to you, isn’t it. We’ve x-rayed it. It’s not booby-trapped.
Sherlock: How reassuring.
Watson: That’s the phone— the pink phone.
Lestrade: What from A Study in Pink?
Sherlock: Well obviously it’ s not the same phone. But it’s supposed to look like— “A Study in Pink”? You read his blog?
Lestrade: Of course I read his blog. We all do. Do you really not know that the Earth goes around the sun?
Five Pips
Lestrade: What the hell are we supposed to make of that? An estate agents photo and the bloody Greenwich pips.
Sherlock: It’s a warning.
Watson: A warning?
Sherlock: Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that. Five pips. They’re warning us it’s going to happen again.
Sherlock: Elegant.
Watson: Elegant?
Lestrade: What was the point? Why would anyone do this?
Sherlock: Oh. I can’t be the only person in the world that gets bored.
Three Pips
Lestrade: There’s something else that we haven’t thought of.
Sherlock: Is there?
Lestrade: Yes. Why is he doing this, the bomber? If this woman’s death was suspicious why point it out?
Sherlock: Good Samaritan.
Lestrade: Who press-gangs suicide bombers?
Sherlock: Bad Samaritan.
Lestrade: I’m serious, Sherlock. Listen, I’m cutting you slack here, I’m trusting you, but out there some poor bastard’s covered in Semtex and just waiting for you to solve the puzzle. So just tell me, what are we dealing with?
Sherlock: Something new.
Mrs. Hudson: It’s a real shame. I liked her. She taught you how to do your colors.
Lestrade: Colors?
Mrs. Hudson: You know, what goes best with what. I should never wear cerise, apparently. Drains me.
Blind Woman: Help me!
Sherlock: Tell us where you are. Address.
Blind Woman: He was so— his voice. He sounded so soft…
Sherlock: Hello?
Lestrade: Sherlock? What’s happened?
Two Pips
Lestrade: You reckon this is connected then, the bomber?
Sherlock: Must be. Odd though. He hasn’t been in touch.
Lestrade: Then we must assume that some poor bugger’s primed to explode, yeah?
Sherlock: Yes.
Lestrade: Any ideas?
Sherlock: Seven. So far.
Lestrade: So this is a hit?
Sherlock: Definitely. The Golem squeezes the life out of his victims with his bare hands.
Lestrade: But what has this got to do with that painting. I don’t see wh—
Sherlock: You do see, you just don’t observe.
Watson: Alright, alright. Girls. Calm down.
Sherlock: Tonight they unveil the rediscovered masterpiece. Now why would anyone want to pay the Golem to suffocate a perfectly ordinary attendant? Inference: the dead man knew something about it. Something that would stop the owner getting paid thirty million pounds. The picture’s a fake.
Watson: Fantastic.
Sherlock: Meretricious.
Lestrade: And a happy new year.
Lestrade: I better get my feelers out for this Golem character.
Sherlock: Pointless. You’ll never find him. But I know a man who can.
Lestrade: Who?
Sherlock: Me.
Ms. Wenceslas: It’s not a fake.
Sherlock: It is a fake. I don’t know why, but there’s something wrong with it. There has to be.
Ms. Wenceslas: What the hell are you on about? You know, I could have you sacked on the spot.
Sherlock: Not a problem.
Ms. Wenceslas: No?
Sherlock: No. I don’t work here, you see. I just popped in to give you a bit of friendly advice.
Ms. Wenceslas: Who are you?
Sherlock: Sherlock Holmes.
Ms. Wenceslas: Am I supposed to be impressed?
Sherlock: You should be. Have a nice day.
He didn’t steal those things, Mr. Watson. I knew Westie. He was a good man. He was my good man.
Sherlock: The painting is a fake! It’s a fake! That’s why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed. Oh come on, proving it’s just a detail. The painting is a fake. I’ve solved it, I’ve figured it out. It’s a fake—that’s the answer, that’s why they were killed. {silence}. Okay, I’ll prove it. Give me time. Will you give me time?
Bomber: Ten…
Lestrade: It’s a kid! Oh god, it’s a kid.
Watson: What did he say?
Sherlock: Ten. It’s a countdown. He’s giving me time.
Ms. Wenceslas: It was just an idea. A spark which he blew into a flame.
Sherlock: Who?
Ms. Wenceslas: I don’t know. It’s true! It took a long time but eventually I was put in touch with people. His people. Well, there was never any real contact. Just messages. Whispers.
Sherlock: And did those whispers have a name?
Ms. Wenceslas: Moriarty.