A Scandal in Belgravia
Potential Client 1: My wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office.
Sherlock: Boring!
Potential Client 2: I think my husband might be having an affair.
Sherlock: Yes.
Comic Book Web site Guy: We have this web site. It explains the true meaning of comic books, ’cause people miss a lot of the themes. {Sherlock prepares to leave} But then all of the comic books start coming true.
Sherlock: Oh. Interesting.
DI Lestrade (Rupert Graves): There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday. Everyone dead.
Sherlock: Suspected terrorist bomb. {to John} I do watch the news.
Watson: You said, “boring” and turned over.
Lestrade: According to the flight details, this man was checked in on board. Inside his coat he’s got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of these special biscuits. Here’s his passport, stamped from Berlin airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday, but instead he’s in a car boot in Suffolk.
Lestrade: Any ideas?
Sherlock: Eight so far… Okay, four ideas… Maybe two ideas.
Lestrade: This is just friendly advice, but give Sherlock five minutes on your crime scene and listen to everything he has to say. And as far as possible, try not to punch him.
Sherlock: Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness, why would he then call the police and consult a detective? Fair play?
Inspector Carter (Danny Webb): He’s trying to be clever. It’s over-confidence.
Sherlock: Did you see him? Morbidly obese. The undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own. The right sleeve of an internet porn addict. And the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition. Low self esteem, tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy. And you think he’s an audacious criminal mastermind? {turning to his client} Don’t worry, this is just stupid.
Client: What did you just say? Heart what?
Mycroft: We are in Buckingham Palace. The very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on.
Sherlock: What for?
Mycroft: Your client.
Sherlock: And my client is?
Harry: Illustrious. In the extreme. And remaining, I’ll have to inform you, entirely anonymous.
Mycroft: May I just apologize for the state of my little brother.
Harry: Full time occupation I imagine.
Harry: You look taller in your photographs.
Sherlock: Take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend.
Sherlock: You have a police force of sorts. Even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?
Harry: People do come to you for help, don’t they Mr. Holmes?
Sherlock: Mm… not to date anyone with a navy.
Harry: Will you take the case?
Sherlock: What case? Pay her. Now. And in full. As Ms. Adler remarks in her masthead, “know when you are beaten.”
Sherlock: Text me the details. I’ll be in touch by the end of the day.
Harry: Do you really think you’ll have news by then?
Sherlock: No, I think I’ll have the photographs.
Harry: One can only hope you’re as good as you seem to think.
Sherlock: Can I have a box of matches?
Harry: I’m sorry?
Sherlock: Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do.
Harry: I don’t smoke.
Sherlock: No, I know you don’t. But your employer does.
Harry: We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: I’m not the Commonwealth.
Watson: And that’s as modest as he gets.
Irene Adler (Lara Pulver): Kate, we’re going to have a visitor. I’ll need a bit of time to get ready.
Kate: A long time?
Irene Adler: Ages.
Kate: What are you going to wear?
Irene Adler: My battle dress.
Kate: Lucky boy.
Irene Adler: I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been hurt. I don’t think Kate caught your name.
Sherlock: I’m so sorry, I’m—
Irene Adler: Oh, it’s always hard to remember an alias when you’ve had a fright. Isn’t it? {she snatches his clerical collar} There now. We’re both defrocked. Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock: Ms. Adler, I presume.
Irene Adler: Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. would you like me to try?
Irene Adler: Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr. Holmes? However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.
Sherlock: You think I’m a vicar with a bleeding face?
Irene Adler: No, I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case it’s yourself.
Irene Adler: Somebody loves you. If I had to punch that face I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.
Watson: Could you put something on please? Ah, anything at all. Napkin?
Irene Adler: Why? Are you feeling exposed?
Sherlock: I don’t think John knows where to look.
Irene Adler: No. I think he knows exactly where. Not sure about you.
Irene Adler: The hiker with the bashed in head, how was he killed?
Sherlock: That’s not why I’m here.
Irene Adler: No no no, you’re here for the photographs but that’s never going to happen. And since we’re here just chatting anyway…
Irene Adler: I thought you were looking for the photos now.
Sherlock: No. Looking takes ages. I’m just going to find them. But you’re moderately clever and we’ve got a moment so let’s pass the time.
Irene Adler: I’d tell you the code right now, but you know what? I already have. Think.
Neilson (Todd Boyce): I’m assuming I missed something. From your reputation I’m assuming you didn’t, Mr. Holmes.
Neilson: Thank you, Mr. Holmes. Open it, please.
Holmes realizing: Vatican Cameos. {Watson ducks}
Irene Adler referring to the combination: Thank you. You were very observant.
Watson: Observant?
Irene Adler: I’m flattered.
Sherlock: Don’t be.
Sherlock: All the photographs are on here, I presume.
Irene Adler: I have copies of course.
Sherlock: No you don’t.
Irene Adler: Now tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me. But not for blackmail. Just for insurance. Besides, I might want to see her again. {Holmes tries to respond} Oh. No no no no. It’s been a pleasure. Don’t spoil it. This is how I want you to remember me. The woman who beat you.
Irene Adler: You know I was wrong about him. He did know where to look.
Mrs. Hudson (Una Stubbs): It’s a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes.
Mycroft: Oh shut up, Mrs. Hudson.
Sherlock: Mycroft!
Mycroft: Apologies.
Mrs. Hudson: Thank you.
Sherlock: Though do in fact shut up.
Sherlock: Sarah was the doctor and then there was the one with the spots and then the one with the nose and then who was after the boring teacher?
Jeanette: Nobody.
Sherlock: Jeanette! Ah. Process of elimination.
Molly Hooper (Louise ‘Loo’ Brealey): Having our Christmas drinkies then?
Sherlock: No stopping them, apparently.
Mrs. Hudson: It’s the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me so it’s always worth it.
Molly: How’s the hip?
Mrs. Hudson: Oh it’s atrocious. Thanks for asking.
Molly: I’ve seen much worse. But then I do post-mortems.
Jeanette: You know my friends are so wrong about you. You’re a great boyfriend.
Watson: Okay, that’s good. I mean I always thought I was great.
Jeanette: And Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man.
Watson: Has he ever had any kind of girlfriend, boyfriend—a relationship—ever?
Mrs. Hudson: I don’t know.
Watson: How can we not know?
Mrs. Hudson: He’s Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head.
Kate: He’s on his way. You were right. He thinks it’s Mycroft.
Watson: He’s writing sad music. Doesn’t eat. Barely talks. Only to correct the television. I’d say he was heartbroken, but, ah, he’s Sherlock. He does all that anywa— {he sees Irene}
Irene Adler: Hello Dr. Watson.
Watson: Tell him you’re alive.
Irene Adler: He’d come after me.
Watson: I’ll come after you if you don’t.
Irene Adler: Oh, I believe you.
Irene Adler: Look, I made a mistake. I sent something to Sherlock for safe keeping and now I need it back, so I need your help.
Watson: No.
Irene Adler: It’s for his own safety.
Watson: So’s this: tell him you’re alive.
Irene Adler: I can’t.
Watson: Fine. I’ll tell him. And I still won’t help you.
Irene Adler: What do I say?
Watson: What do you normally say?! You’ve texted him a lot!
Irene Adler: Just the usual stuff.
Watson: There is no usual in this case.
Watson: You flirted with Sherlock Holmes?
Irene Adler: At him. He never replies.
Watson: No, Sherlock always replies. To everything. He’s Mr. Punchline. He will outlive God trying to have the last word.
Irene Adler: Does that make me special?
Watson: I don’t know, maybe.
Irene Adler: You jealous?
Watson: We’re not a couple.
Irene Adler: Yes you are. {she sends a test} There. “I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner.”
Watson: For the record, if anyone out there still cares, I’m not actually gay.
Irene Adler: Well I am. Look at us both. {they hear Sherlock’s phone in the distance}
Neilson: But you know what I’m asking for, don’t you Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: I believe I do. First get rid of your boys.
Neilson: Why?
Holmes: I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room.
Lestrade: And exactly how many times did he fall out of the window?
Sherlock: It’s all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector. I lost count.
Watson: She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her.
Mrs. Hudson: No.
Sherlock: She’s fine.
Watson: No, she’s not. Look at her. She’s got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor’s orders.
Sherlock: Don’t be absurd.
Watson: She’s in shock, for god’s sake! And all over some stupid bloody camera phone. Where is it anyway?
Sherlock: Safest place I know.
Mrs. Hudson: He left it in the pocket of his second best dressing gown, you clot. I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry.
Irene Adler: I make my way in the world. I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be.
Sherlock: So how do you acquire this information?
Irene Adler: I told you. I misbehave.
Sherlock: But you’ve acquired something that’s more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?
Irene Adler: Yes. But I don’t understand it.
Sherlock: Assumed. Show me.
Sherlock: You’re rather good.
Irene Adler: You’re not so bad.
Watson: Hamish! {they look startled} John Hamish Watson, just if you’re looking for baby names.
Sherlock: Where’s John?
Irene Adler: He went out. A couple of hours ago.
Sherlock: I was just talking to him.
Irene Adler: He said you do that.
Irene Adler: Have you ever had anyone?
Sherlock: Sorry.
Irene Adler: And when I say “had” I’m being indelicate.
Sherlock: I don’t understand.
Irene Adler: I’ll be delicate. Let’s have dinner.
Sherlock: Why?
Irene Adler: You might be hungry.
Sherlock: I’m not.
Irene Adler: Good.
Sherlock: Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn’t hungry.
Irene Adler: Oh, Mr. Holmes, if it was the end of the world—if this was the very last night—would you have dinner with me?
Mrs. Hudson: Sherlock!
Irene Adler: Too late.
Sherlock: It’s not the end of the world, it’s Mrs. Hudson.
Irene Adler: Mr. Holmes, I think we need to talk.
Sherlock: So do I. There are a number of aspects I’m still not quite clear on.
Irene Adler: Not you, Junior. You’re done now.
Irene Adler: I imagine you’d like to sleep on it.
Mycroft: Thank you, yes.
Irene Adler: Too bad. Off you pop and talk to people.
Mycroft: You’ve been very… thorough. I wish our lot were half as good as you.
Irene Adler: I can’t take all the credit. Had a bit of help. {to Sherlock} Jim Moriarty sends his love.
Mycroft: Yes, he’s been in touch. Seems desperate for my attention. Which I’m sure can be arranged.
Mycroft: Here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees. Nicely played.
Sherlock: No.
Irene Adler: Sorry?
Sherlock: I said, no. Very very close, but no. You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much.
Irene Adler: No such thing as too much.
Sherlock: Oh enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine. Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathize entirely. But sentiment, sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.
Irene Adler: Sentiment. What are you talking about?
Sherlock: You.
Irene Adler: Oh dear god, look at the poor man. You don’t actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you’re the great Sherlock Holmes? The clever detective in the funny hat?
Sherlock: No. Because I took your pulse.
Sherlock: When we first met you told me that disguise is always a self portrait—how true of you. The combination to your safe, your measurements. But this, this is far more intimate. This is your heart. And you should never let it rule your head. You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you worked for. But you just couldn’t resist it, could you? I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage. Thank you for the final proof.
Irene Adler: Everything I said, it’s not real. I was just playing the game.
Sherlock: I know. And this is just losing. {I AM SHERLOCKED}.
Sherlock: There you are, brother. I hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight.
Mycroft: I’m certain they will.
Sherlock: If you’re feeling kind, lock her up. Otherwise let her go. I doubt she’ll survive long without her protection.
Irene Adler: Are you expecting me to beg?
Sherlock: Yes.
Irene Adler: Please. You’re right. I won’t even last six months.
Sherlock: Sorry about dinner.
The Hounds of Baskerville
Young Henry: Oh hello. What is it, dear? Are you alright? Are you lost?
Mrs. Hudson: How ’bout a nice cuppa? Perhaps you could put away your harpoon.
Sherlock: I need something stronger than tea! Seven percent stronger.
Reporter: Dartmoor. It’s always been a place of myth and legend. But is there something else lurking out here? Something very real. Because Dartmoor’s also home to one of the government’s most secret of operations. The chemical and biological research center. Which is said to be even more sensitive than Porton Down. Since the end of the Second World War there have been persistent stories about the Baskerville Experiments. Genetic mutations. Animals grown for the battlefield. There are many who believe that within this compound—in the heart of this ancient wilderness—there are horrors beyond imagining. But the real question is, Are all of them still inside?
Henry: I was just a kid. It was on the moor. It was dark, but I know what I saw. I know what killed my father.
Sherlock: What did you see?
Henry Knight (Russell Tovey): Oh, I was just about to say.
Sherlock: Yes, in a TV interview. I prefer to do my own editing.
Henry: Yes. Sorry, yes of course. Excuse me. {he pulls out a handkerchief}
Watson: In your own time.
Sherlock: But quite quickly.
Sherlock: Yes, good. Skipping to the night that your dad was violently killed. Where did that happen?
Henry: There’s a place, it’s a sort of local landmark called Dewar’s Hollow. That’s an ancient name for the devil.
Sherlock: So?
Watson: Did you see the devil that night?
Henry: Yes. It was huge. Cold black fur with red eyes. It got him. Tore at him, tore him apart. I can’t remember anything else. They found the next morning just wandering on the moor. My dad’s body was never found.
Watson: Red eyes, cold black fur. Enormous… dog? Wolf?
Sherlock: Or a genetic experiment.
Henry: Are you laughing at me, Mr. Holmes?
Sherlock: Why, are you joking?
Henry: My dad was always going on about the things they were doing at Baskerville. About the type of monsters they were breeding there. People used to laugh at him. At least the TV people took me seriously.
Sherlock: I assume it did wonders for Devon tourism.
Watson: Henry, whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?
Henry: I’m not sure you can help me, Mr. Holmes, because you find it all so funny.
Sherlock: Because of what happened last night.
Watson: Why? What happened last night?
Henry: That part doesn’t change.
Louise Mortimer (Sasha Behar): What does?
Henry: There’s something else. It’s a word. “Liberty.”
Dr. Mortimer: Liberty?
Henry: There’s another word. “In”. I-N. Liberty in. What do you think it means?
Watson: I couldn’t help noticing on the map of the moor. A skull and crossbones?
Gary (Gordon Kennedy): Oh that.
Watson: Pirates?
Gary: Eh no. No. the Great Grimpen Minefield, they call it.
Watson: Oh right.
Gary: It’s not what you think. It’s the Baskerville testing site. It’s been going for eighty-odd years. I’m not sure anyone knows what’s there anymore.
Watson: Explosives?
Gary: Oh not just explosives. Break ina that place and if you’re lucky you just get blowed up, so they say.
Fletcher (Stephen Wight): In the labs there—the really secret labs, he said he’d seen… terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said. And dogs. Dogs the size of horses.
Dr. Franklyn (Clive Mantle): And you are?
Corporal Lyons (Will Sharpe): Sorry, Dr. Franklyn. I’m just showing these gentlemen around.
Dr. Franklyn: Ah. New faces. How nice. Careful you don’t get stuck here, though. I only came to fix a tire.
Sherlock: Stapleton. I knew I knew your name.
Dr. Stapleton (Amelia Bullmore): Doubt it.
Sherlock: People say there’s no such thing as coincidence. What dull lives they must lead. {he holds up an accusatory BLUEBELL}
Dr. Stapleton: Have you been talking to my daughter?
Major Barrymore (Simon Paisley Day): What the hell’s going on?!
Dr. Franklyn: It’s alright, Major. I know exactly who these gentlemen are.
Major Barrymore: You do?
Dr. Franklyn: Yeah, I’m getting a little slow on faces but Mr. Holmes isn’t someone I expected to show up in these parts.
Sherlock: Well, I—
Dr. Franklyn: Good to see you again, Mycroft.
Sherlock: Thank you.
Dr. Franklyn: This is about Henry Knight, isn’t it? I thought so. I knew he wanted help, but I didn’t realize he was going to contact Sherlock Holmes. Oh don’t worry, I know who you really are. I’m never off your web site. Thought you’d be wearing the hat though.
Sherlock: That wasn’t my hat.
Dr. Franklyn: I hardly recognize you without the hat.
Sherlock: Wasn’t my hat.
Dr. Franklyn: I love the blog too, Dr. Watson.
Watson: Oh cheers.
Sherlock: I never did ask, Dr. Franklyn. What is it exactly that you do here?
Dr. Franklyn: Mr. Holmes, I would love to tell you. But then I’d have to kill you.
Sherlock: That would be tremendously ambitious of you.
Holmes about Dr. Franklyn: He knew your father.
Henry: Yeah.
Sherlock: But he works at Baskerville. Didn’t your dad have a problem with that?
Henry: Well, mates are mates, aren’t they? I mean look at you and John.
Sherlock: What about us?
Henry: Well I mean, he’s a pretty straightforward bloke and you…
Watson: Did you hear that?
Henry: We saw it. We saw it!
Sherlock: No. I didn’t see anything.
Henry: What are you talking about?
Sherlock: I didn’t see anything.
Watson: Okay, what about his father? He wasn’t one of your patients. Wasn’t he some sort of conspiracy nutter— theorist.
Grace Mortimer (Rosalind Knight): You’re only a nutter if you’re wrong.
Watson: And was he wrong?
Dr. Mortimer: I should think so.
Henry: Listen, last night. Why did you say you hadn’t seen anything? I mean I only saw the hound for a minute—
Sherlock: Hound.
Henry: What?
Sherlock: Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?
Henry: Why? What do you mean?
Sherlock: It’s odd, isn’t it? Strange choice of words. Archaic. It’s why I took the case. “Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.” Why say “hound”?
Sherlock: What the hell are you doing here?
Lestrade: Oh, nice to see you too. I’m on a holiday, would you believe.
Sherlock: No. I wouldn’t.
Sherlock: I’m waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?
Lestrade: I told you, I’m on a holiday.
Sherlock: You’re brown as a nut. You’re clearly just back from your holidays.
Lestrade: Maybe I fancied another one.
Sherlock: Oh this is Mycroft, isn’t it?
Lestrade: Now look—
Sherlock: Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to, to spy on me incognito. Is that why you’re calling yourself Greg?
Watson: That’s his name.
Sherlock: Is it?
Watson: Yes.
Lestrade: I suppose he likes having the same faces back together. It appeals to his… his…
Watson: Aspergers?
Major Barrymore: I don’t know what the hell you expect to find here anyway.
Sherlock: Perhaps the truth.
Major Barrymore: Oh I see. The big coat should have told me. You’re one of the conspiracy lot, aren’t you?
Dr. Stapleton: Oh. Back again? What’s on your mind this time?
Sherlock: Murder, Dr. Stapleton. Refined, cold-blooded murder. Will you tell little Kirstie what happened to Bluebell or shall I?
Dr. Stapleton: Okay. What do you want?
Sherlock: Can I borrow your microscope?
Dr. Stapleton: Size isn’t a problem. Not at all. The only limits are ethics and the law and both those things can be very flexible. But not here, not at Baskerville.
Sherlock: Get out, I need to go to my mind palace.
Dr. Stapleton: Your what?
Watson: He’s not going to be doing much talking for awhile. We may as well go.
Dr. Stapleton: His what?
Watson: His mind palace. It’s a memory technique. A sort of mental map. He plots a map with a location. It doesn’t have to be a real place. And then you deposit memories there that theoretically you could never forget anything. All you have to do is find your way back to it.
Dr. Stapleton: So this imaginary location could be anything. A house or a street? But he said palace. He said it was palace.
Watson: Yeah, well he would, wouldn’t he.
Sherlock: Someone needed to keep you quiet. Needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you both clung on to. Because you had started to remember. Remember now, Henry. You’ve got to remember. What happened here when you were a little boy.
Henry: I thought it had got my dad. The hound. Oh Jesus, I don’t— I don’t know anymore! I don’t …
Henry: This means that my dad was right! He found something out, hadn’t he? And that’s why you killed him because he was right. And he found you right in the middle of an experiment.
Moriarty sits in a cell
Mycroft: Alright. Let him go.
The Reichenbach Fall
Three months earlier
Lestrade (Rupert Graves): And there’s one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads. With all his customary diplomacy and tact.
Watson: Sarcasm.
Sherlock: Yes.
Sgt. Sally Donovan (Vinette Robinson): Sir, there’s been a break-in.
Lestrade: Not my division.
Sgt. Donovan: You’ll want it.
Sherlock: There are two types of fans.
Kitty Reilly (Katherine Parkinson): Oh?
Sherlock: “Catch me before I kill again.” Type A.
Kitty Reilly: Uh huh. What’s type B?
Sherlock: Your bedroom’s just a taxi ride away.
Kitty Reilly: Guess which one I am.
Sherlock: Neither.
Kitty Reilly: Really?
Sherlock: No, you’re not a fan at all.
Kitty Reilly: There’s all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you’re gonna need someone on your side. Someone to set the record straight.
Sherlock: You think you’re the girl for that job, do you?
Kitty Reilly: I’m smart. And you can trust me. Totally.
Sherlock: Smart? Okay. Investigative journalist. Good.
Barrister: “A consulting criminal.”
Sherlock: Yes.
Barrister: Your words. Can you expand on that answer?
Sherlock: James Moriarty is for hire.
Barrister: A tradesman?
Sherlock: Yes.
Barrister: But not the sort who’d fix your heating.
Sherlock: No, the sort who’d plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I’m sure he’d make a pretty decent job of your boiler.
Barrister: Would you describe him as—
Sherlock: Leading.
Barrister: What?
Sherlock: Can’t do that, you’re leading the witness.
Barrister: How would you describe this man? His character.
Sherlock: First mistake. James Moriarty isn’t a man at all. He’s a spider. A spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.
Barrister: And how long—
Sherlock: No no. Don’t, don’t do that. That’s really not a good question.
Judge: Mr. Holmes.
Sherlock: How long have I known him? Not really your best line of inquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun, he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something.
Judge: Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?! {apparently not}
Barrister: They’re coming back.
Watson: That was six minutes.
Barrister: I’m surprised it took them that long to be honest. There’s a queue for the ‘loo.
Sherlock: Miss Mackenzie, you’re in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night! What are you? An idiot, a drunk or a criminal?! Now quickly! Tell me!
Miss Mackenzie: All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No one—not even me—went into their room last night. You have to believe me.
Sherlock: I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly. {to the officers} Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now.
Sherlock: Brilliant, Anderson.
Anderson: Really?
Sherlock: Yes. Brilliant impression of an idiot.
Lestrade: Well don’t let it get to you. I always feel like screaming when you walk into a room. In fact so do most people.
Donovan: The footprint. That’s all he has. The footprint…
Lestrade: Yeah well you know what he’s like. CSI: Baker Street.
Donovan: Well our boys couldn’t have done it.
Lestrade: Well that’s why we need him. He’s better.
Donovan: That’s one explanation.
Lestrade: What’s the other?
Donovan: Only he could have found that evidence. And then the girl screams her head off when she sees him. A man she has never seen before. Unless she had seen him before.
Lestrade: What’s your point?
Donovan: You know what my point is, you just don’t want to think about it.
Sherlock: You can’t kill an idea, can you? Not once it’s made a home. {he taps his forehead} There.
Lestrade: Will you come?
Sherlock: One photograph. That’s his next move. First the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch-by-inch. It is a game, Lestrade. And not one I’m willing to play. Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan.
Donovan: Sherlock Holmes, I’m arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping.
Sherlock: Tell me what you want from me. Tell me!
Assassin: He left it at your flat.
Sherlock: Who?
Assassin: Moriarty.
Sherlock: What?
Assassin: The computer key code.
Sherlock: Of course. He’s selling it. The program he used to break into the Tower. He planted it when he came around.
Moriarty (Brook): You said that they wouldn’t find me here, you said that I’d be safe here.
Kitty Reilly: You are safe. Richard, I’m a witness. They won’t harm you in front of witnesses.
Watson: That’s your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?
Kitty Reilly: Of course he’s Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been. Look him up.
Watson: What are you talking about?
Kitty Reilly: Rich Brook. An actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty.
Therapist: The stuff that you wanted to say. But didn’t say it…
Watson: Yeah.
Therapist: Say it now.
Watson: Well… I’m sorry, I can’t.
Watson: I’m angry.
Mrs. Hudson: It’s okay, John. There’s nothing unusual in that, that’s the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise. Firing guns off at one in the morning.
Watson: Yeah.
Mrs. Hudson: Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine! Keeping bodies where there’s food. And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings on!
Watson: Yeah, listen. I’m not actually that angry, okay?
Mrs. Hudson: Okay. I’ll leave you alone to… you know.