(영어/드라마/대본) 셜록 시즌 2 Sherlock season 2

[제   목] 셜록 Sherlock 시즌 2

[편   셩] 영국 BBC One

[연   출] 수 버추, 베릴 버추

[작   가] 스티븐 모펫, 마크 게티스

[출   연] 베네딕트 컴버배치, 마틴 프리먼 루퍼트 그레이브즈 등

에피소드 1 - 벨그라비아 스캔들 A Scandal in Belgravia

Sherlock S2 E1.pdf

Sherlock
A Scandal in Belgravia
- Season 2, episode 1
The episode picks up precisely where “The Great Game” left off, with Sherlock aiming the pistol down at the bomb jacket. As he and Jim Moriarty stare at each other, the introduction to The Bee Gees’ song “Stayin’ Alive” begins to play tinnily. Sherlock and John look around, confused. Jim briefly closes his eyes and sighs in exasperation.
JIM Do you mind if I get that?
SHERLOCK (nonchalantly) No, no, please. You’ve got the rest of your life.
(Jim takes his phone from his pocket and answers it.)
JIM Hello? Yes, of course it is. What do you want?
(He mouths ‘Sorry’ at Sherlock, who sarcastically mouths ‘Oh, it’s fine’ back at him. jin rolls his eyes as he listens to the phone, turning away from Sherlock for a moment, then he spins back around, his face full of fury.)
JIM (into phone) SAY THAT AGAIN!
(Sherlock frowns.)
JIM (venomously, into phone) Say that again, and know that if you’re lying to me, I will find you and I will skin you.
(Sherlock looks round at John.)
JIM (into phone) Wait.
(Lowering the phone, he begins to walks forward. Sherlock looks at the bomb jacket fretfully and adjusts the grip on his pistol as Jim approaches. Jim stops at the jacket and gazes down at the ground thoughtfully before lifting his eyes to Sherlock.)
JIM Sorry. Wrong day to die.
SHERLOCK (casually) Oh. Did you get a better offer?
(Jim looks down at the phone, then turns and slowly starts to walk away.)
JIM You’ll be hearing from me, Sherlock.
(He strolls back around the pool towards the door through which he originally came, lifting the phone to his ear again.)
JIM (into phone) So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don’t, I’ll make you into shoes.
(Reaching the door, he raises his free hand and clicks his fingers. Instantly all the lasers focused on Sherlock and John disappear. As Jim walks through the door and vanishes from sight, Sherlock looks around the pool but can see no sign of the retreating snipers. John sighs out a relieved breath.)
JOHN What happened there?
SHERLOCK Someone changed his mind. The question is who?
(Elsewhere, a woman’s hand lowers her phone and switches it off. Wearing a pair of black Brazilian knickers under a sheer lace robe, she walks from the landing into a bedroom, lashing a riding crop against the door jamb as she speaks.)
IRENE Well now. Have you been wicked, Your Highness?
(Inside the bedroom, a pair of naked legs can be seen lying on a bed.)
SULTRY FEMALE VOICE Yes, Miss Adler.
NEW OPENING CREDITS!
221B BAKER STREET. MAY 30. John is sitting at the table in the living room updating his blog on his laptop. Sherlock, wearing a red dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, is standing at the other side of the table drinking from a mug while leafing through a newspaper.
SHERLOCK What are you typing?
JOHN Blog.
SHERLOCK About?
JOHN Us.

SHERLOCK You mean me.
JOHN Why?
SHERLOCK Well, you’re typing a lot. (The doorbell rings.)

SHERLOCK Right then. (He walks towards the door.) So, what have we got?
Over a period of many weeks, people are coming to 221B to consult with Sherlock.
MAN My wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office.
SHERLOCK Boring.
WOMAN I think my husband might be having an affair.
SHERLOCK Yes.
CREEPY GUY (holding a funeral urn) She’s not my real aunt. She’s been replaced – I know she has. I know human ash.
SHERLOCK (pointing to the door) Leave.
BUSINESSMAN We are prepared to offer any sum of money you care to mention for the recovery of these files.
SHERLOCK Boring.
GEEKY YOUNG MAN We have this website. It explains the true meaning of comic books, ’cause people miss a lot of the themes.
(Sherlock is already walking away, disinterested.)
GEEKY YOUNG MAN But then all the comic books started coming true.
(Sherlock comes back.)
SHERLOCK Oh. Interesting.
Later, John is sitting in his chair and updating his blog again. He has entitled the entry “The Geek Interpreter”. Sherlock leans over his shoulder.
SHERLOCK Geek interpreter. What’s that?
JOHN It’s the title.
SHERLOCK What does it need a title for?
(John just smiles. Sherlock straightens up and walks away.)
Later, they’re at the morgue at Bart’s. Sherlock is using his magnifier to look at a woman’s body lying on the table. John is standing at the other side of the table and Detective Inspector Lestrade is nearby.
SHERLOCK Do people actually read your blog?
JOHN Where do you think our clients come from?
SHERLOCK I have a website.
JOHN In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody’s reading your website.
(Sherlock straightens up and glares at him, then pouts adorably momentarily as John continues to look at the body.)
JOHN Right then dyed blonde hair; no obvious cause of death except for these speckles, whatever they are.
(He points at the tiny red marks on the woman’s body but Sherlock has already turned and flounced out of the room.)
Later, back at the flat, John is updating his blog again. Sherlock walks past and looks at the title for this entry.
SHERLOCK Oh, for God’s sakes!
JOHN What?
SHERLOCK “The Speckled Blonde”?!
(John purses his lips as Sherlock walks away again.)
Two little girls are sitting together on one of the dining chairs in the flat as Sherlock paces. LITTLE GIRL They wouldn’t let us see Granddad when he was dead. Is that ’cause he’d gone to heaven?

SHERLOCK People don’t really go to heaven when they die. They’re taken to a special room and burned.
(The two girls look at each other in distress.)
JOHN (reprovingly) Sherlock...

Lestrade is leading Sherlock and John across some open ground.
LESTRADE There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday. Everyone dead. SHERLOCK Suspected terrorist bomb. We do watch the news.
JOHN You said, “Boring,” and turned over.
(Lestrade leads them to a car which has its boot opened. There’s a body inside the boot. As Lestrade continues to speak, Sherlock looks all around the rear of the car.)
LESTRADE (looking at a bag of evidence) Well, 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 those special biscuits. Here’s his passport stamped in Berlin Airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday but instead he’s in a car boot in Southwark.
JOHN Lucky escape(!)
LESTRADE (to Sherlock) Any ideas?
SHERLOCK (examining the man’s hand with his magnifier) Eight, so far.
(He straightens up and looks at the body again, then frowns momentarily.)
SHERLOCK Okay, four ideas.
(He turns to Lestrade and looks down at the passport and the ticket stub of the passenger, John Coniston, who was meant to be travelling on Flyaway Airways Standing up, he gazes up into the sky.)
SHERLOCK Maybe two ideas.
(The shadow of a passenger jet passes overhead.)
Back at the flat, Sherlock – wearing heavy protective gloves and safety glasses and carrying a blowtorch in one hand and a glass container of green liquid in the other – has come to the living room table to look at John’s latest blog entry which is entitled “Sherlock Holmes baffled”.
SHERLOCK (indignantly) No, no, no, don’t mention the unsolved ones.
JOHN People want to know you’re human.
SHERLOCK Why?
JOHN ’Cause they’re interested.
SHERLOCK No they’re not. Why are they?
(John smiles at his laptop.)
JOHN Look at that.
(He’s looking at the hit counter on the front page of his blog.)
JOHN One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five.
SHERLOCK Sorry, what?
JOHN I re-set that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash.
SHERLOCK (sulkily) Two hundred and forty-three.
(Firing up the blowtorch, he puts his safety glasses back on and heads back towards the kitchen.)
THEATRE. Sherlock and John are walking across the stage of a theatre while police officers mill around nearby.
SHERLOCK So, what’s this one? “Belly Button Murders”?
JOHN “The Navel Treatment”?
SHERLOCK Eurgh!
(They walk backstage and meet up with Lestrade as they head for the exit.)
LESTRADE There’s a lot of press outside, guys.

SHERLOCK Well, they won’t be interested in us.
LESTRADE Yeah, that was before you were an internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you two.
SHERLOCK (exasperated, glaring round at John) For God’s sake!
(John quirks a smile as they walk on, then Sherlock spots some costumes on a rack just inside a nearby dressing room. He walks in and grabs a couple of items off the rack.) SHERLOCK John.
(He tosses a cap at him.)
SHERLOCK Cover your face and walk fast.
LESTRADE Still, it’s good for the public image, a big case like this.
SHERLOCK I’m a private detective. The last thing I need is a public image.
(He puts on the other hat that he had picked up – a deerstalker – and heads out the exit door pulling the hat as low as possible over his eyes and tugging the collar of his coat up. Outside, photographers start taking pictures of him and John.)
(Later, some of the pictures have been used in various newspapers, together with headlines such as “Hat-man and Robin The web detectives”, “Sherlock Net ‘Tec”, “Sherlock & John Blogger Detectives” and “Sherlock Holmes net phenomenon”. [N.B. see the Comments of disassembly_rsn (below the transcript) where the text of the newspaper articles has been transcribed.])
(The last of these newspaper reports has caught the attention of Irene Adler, who slowly strokes her hand over the photograph of Sherlock, then runs her hand along her riding crop before laying it down on top of the photograph. She picks up her phone and dials.) IRENE (into phone) Hello. I think it’s time, don’t you?
221B BAKER STREET. Mrs Hudson picks up a mug and an almost empty bottle of milk from the mantelpiece and walks into the kitchen, tutting in exasperation at the mess in there. Putting the mug onto the table she takes the milk across to the fridge door and opens it, recoiling from the smell emanating from inside. Putting the milk into the fridge door she picks up the offending smelly item and drops it into the bin, then pulls open the salad crisper at the bottom and takes out a clear plastic bag from it. Peering at the contents, she cringes as she realises what’s inside.
MRS HUDSON Ooh dear! Thumbs!
(She drops the bag back into the salad crisper, then turns as an overweight man stumbles into the kitchen through the side door and stares at her wide-eyed and confused.)
MAN The door was... the door was...
(He breathes heavily, then drops to the floor in a faint. Mrs Hudson stares at him in terror for a moment, then calls out.)
MRS HUDSON Boys! You’ve got another one!
(She bends down to the unconscious man.)
MRS HUDSON Ooh!
Later the man – whose name is Phil – has regained consciousness and is sitting on one of the dining table chairs in the middle of the lounge. He is staring rather blankly in front of him. John is sitting on the sofa behind him and Sherlock is out of sight but presumably pacing.
SHERLOCK (sternly) Tell us from the start. Don’t be boring.
(Phil flashes back to fourteen hours earlier. Somewhere out in the country his car has broken down. He tries to start the engine for what is apparently the umpteenth time but it just whines and refuses to start. Phil slams his hands angrily onto the steering wheel and gets out again to stare uselessly down under the open bonnet and tweak a few connections hopefully. He looks around but there is no sign of any other traffic on the country lane. He looks into the field at the side of the road. The field stretches down to a river some distance away and a man wearing a red jacket is standing at the edge of a stream which leads down to the river. He has his back to the road. Phil peers at him for a

moment but he’s too far away to have even noticed what’s happening on the road and eventually Phil gets back into the car again and tries once more to start the engine. It whines ferociously and then loudly backfires. Phil sighs, then looks across towards the river and realises that the man is now lying on the ground. He gets out of the car and stares.)

PHIL (calling out) Hey! Are you okay?
(The man doesn’t respond or react.)
PHIL (starting to walk towards him) Excuse me! Are you all right?
(As yet unseen by Phil, the man has fallen onto his back. There is a lot of blood underneath the back of his head.)
Many hours later a crime scene has been set up at the riverside. A young police officer brings a mobile phone over to Detective Inspector Carter.
POLICE OFFICER Sir. A phone call for you.
CARTER (into phone) Carter.
(Lestrade is at the other end of the line, sitting in his car in Baker Street.)
LESTRADE Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes?
CARTER Who?
LESTRADE Well, you’re about to meet him now. This is your case. It’s entirely up to you. This is just friendly advice, but give Sherlock five minutes on your crime scene and listen to everything that he has to say. And as far as possible, try not to punch him.
(As Lestrade has been speaking, a car has driven up and stopped near the crime scene. Carter looks down in bewilderment at the phone as Lestrade ends the call. The young police officer has been leaning into the car speaking to the person in the back seat.) POLICE OFFICER Okay.
(He turns to Carter as he approaches.)
POLICE OFFICER Sir, this gentleman says he needs to speak to you.
CARTER Yes, I know. (He walks closer to the car.) Sherlock Holmes.
JOHN (getting out of the car and shaking Carter’s hand) John Watson. Are you set up for Wi-Fi?
221B. Yawning, Sherlock wanders out from the hallway behind the kitchen and strolls into the kitchen wearing only a sheet wrapped around him.
JOHN (offscreen) You realize this is a tiny bit humiliating?
SHERLOCK (still yawning as he picks up a mug of tea from the side table) It’s okay, I’m fine.
(He walks over to an open laptop on the work surface, picks it up and looks into the screen as he carries the laptop into the living room.)
SHERLOCK Now, show me to the stream.
JOHN (offscreen) I didn’t really mean for you.
SHERLOCK Look, this is a six.
(He sits down at the table in the living room and puts the laptop onto the table. Just then the doorbell rings but he ignores it.)
SHERLOCK (adjusting the screen so that his face can be seen by the laptop’s camera) There’s no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We agreed. Now, go back. Show me the grass.
(John has walked down to the stream and is Skypeing with Sherlock. He points the camera on his laptop towards the grass at the stream’s edge and squats down.)
JOHN When did we agree that?
SHERLOCK We agreed it yesterday. Stop!
(He leans closer to the screen and looks at the mud on the ground.)
SHERLOCK Closer.
(Instead of following his instructions, John swings the laptop around so that he can look into the camera.)

JOHN I wasn’t even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin.
SHERLOCK Well, it’s hardly my fault you weren’t listening.
(The doorbell rings more insistently. Sherlock briefly looks round in the direction of the stairs.)
SHERLOCK (angrily) SHUT UP!
JOHN Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?
SHERLOCK (shrugging) I don’t know. How often are you away? Now, show me the car that backfired.
(Sighing, John stands up and turns the laptop and its camera towards the road to show Phil’s car.)
JOHN It’s there.
SHERLOCK That’s the one that made the noise, yes?
JOHN (swinging the camera back around to look into it) Yeah. And if you’re thinking gunshot, there wasn’t one. He wasn’t shot; he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That’s gotta be an eight at least.
(Sherlock has leaned back in his chair and is running his finger back and forth over his top lip as he thinks. Your humble transcriber melts into a puddle of goo. As John walks back towards the road, Carter is following along behind him.)
CARTER You’ve got two more minutes, then I want to know more about the driver. SHERLOCK (waving his hand dismissively) Oh, forget him. He’s an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?
(Carter catches up to John and leans over to look into the camera.)
CARTER I think he’s a suspect!
(Sherlock leans forward angrily.)
SHERLOCK Pass me over.
JOHN All right, but there’s a Mute button and I will use it.
(He tilts the laptop at an angle that Sherlock’s not happy with.)
SHERLOCK (irritated) Up a bit! I’m not talking from down here!
(John has had enough and offers the laptop to Carter.)
JOHN Okay, just take it, take it.
(Carter takes the laptop as Sherlock starts talking at double the usual speed.) 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?
CARTER He’s trying to be clever. It’s over-confidence.
SHERLOCK (sighing in exasperation) 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?!
(He turns around to John’s chair where Phil has been sitting all the time.)
SHERLOCK Don’t worry – this is just stupid.
PHIL (anxiously) What did you say? Heart what?
(Ignoring him, Sherlock turns back to the camera.)
SHERLOCK Go to the stream.
CARTER What’s in the stream?
SHERLOCK Go and see.
(As Carter hands the laptop back to John, Mrs Hudson comes up the stairs and into the living room followed by two men wearing suits.)
MRS HUDSON Sherlock! You weren’t answering your doorbell!
(One of the men, Plummer, looks at his colleague while pointing with his thumb in the direction of the kitchen.)

PLUMMER His room’s through the back. Get him some clothes.
SHERLOCK Who the hell are you?
PLUMMER Sorry, Mr. Holmes. You’re coming with us.
(He reaches forward to close down the lid of the laptop as John calls out in alarm.) JOHN Sherlock, what’s going on? What’s happening?

(As his screen goes black, he pokes at the keyboard frantically.)
JOHN I’ve lost him. I don’t know what...
(The young police officer hurries over to him with a phone pressed to his ear.)
POLICE OFFICER Doctor Watson?
JOHN Yeah.
POLICE OFFICER It’s for you.
JOHN Okay, thanks.
(Still looking at the screen, he holds out his hand for the phone.)
POLICE OFFICER Uh, no, sir. The helicopter.
(They both turn and look at the helicopter which is just coming in to land at the edge of the river.)
Back at 221B, Plummer’s colleague has collected a pile of clothes and a pair of shoes and puts them down onto the table in front of Sherlock, who raises his eyebrows and shrugs disinterestedly.
PLUMMER Please, Mr. Holmes. Where you’re going, you’ll want to be dressed.
(Sherlock turns his head, gazes at the man and begins to deduce the hell out of him.) Looking at his clothes Suit £700
Glancing at his breast pocket and the area where a pistol would be if Plummer was carrying one Unarmed
Thumbnail Manicured
Forehead Office worker
The way his hands are folded in front of him Right handed
Looking down to his shoes Indoor worker
Seeing some wiry hairs on the cuff of his trouser leg Small dog
Seeing a mark higher up the same trouser leg Two small dogs
Seeing more hairs on the other trouser leg Three small dogs
(Back at the crime scene, the helicopter takes off.)
(At 221B, Sherlock smiles smugly and looks up into Plummer’s face.)
SHERLOCK Oh, I know exactly where I’m going.
Some time later, sitting beside the pilot, John frowns and looks down as the helicopter flies over London. As it approaches Buckingham Palace the pilot begins to speak into his comms.
Not long afterwards, John has been shown into an enormous ornate hall with massive crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He looks around for a moment, then follows his escort who gestures him to a nearby room before walking away. On a small round table in the middle of the room is the pile of clothes and shoes which had been put down in front of Sherlock earlier. There is a sofa either side of the table and sitting on the left-hand one is Sherlock, still wrapped in his sheet. He looks across to John calmly. John holds out his hands in a “What the hell?!” gesture. Sherlock shrugs disinterestedly and looks away again. Nodding in a resigned way, John walks slowly into the room, then sits down on the sofa beside his friend. He gazes in front of himself for a moment, chewing back a giggle, looks around the room again and then looks at Sherlock, peering closely at his sheet and particularly the section wrapped around his backside. He turns his head away again. JOHN Are you wearing any pants?
SHERLOCK No.
JOHN Okay.

(He sighs quietly. A moment later Sherlock turns and looks at him just as John also turns to look. Their eyes meet and they promptly burst out laughing.)
JOHN (gesturing around the building) At Buckingham Palace, fine. (He tries to get himself under control.) Oh, I’m seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray.

(Sherlock chuckles again.)
JOHN What are we doing here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?
SHERLOCK (still smiling) I don’t know.
JOHN Here to see the Queen?
(At that moment Mycroft walks in from the next room.)
SHERLOCK Oh, apparently yes.
(John cracks up again and Sherlock promptly joins in. The two of them continue to giggle as Mycroft looks at them in exasperation.)
MYCROFT Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?
JOHN We solve crimes, I blog about it and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.
(Sherlock looks up at his brother as he walks into the room, all humour gone from his face.)
SHERLOCK I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft.
MYCROFT What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?
SHERLOCK Transparent.
(John looks startled.)
MYCROFT Time to move on, then.
(He bends down and picks up the clothes and shoes from the table, turning to offer them to Sherlock. His brother gazes at them uninterestedly. Mycroft sighs.)
MYCROFT We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. (Sternly) Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on.
SHERLOCK (shrugging) What for?
MYCROFT Your client.
SHERLOCK (standing up) And my client is?
EQUERRY Illustrious...
(Sherlock turns to look at the man who has just walked into the room.)
EQUERRY ...in the extreme.
(John stands up respectfully.)
EQUERRY And remaining – I have to inform you – entirely anonymous.
(He looks across to Mycroft.)
EQUERRY Mycroft!
MYCROFT Harry.
(Smiling, he walks over and shakes the equerry’s hand.)
MYCROFT May I just apologise for the state of my little brother?
EQUERRY Full-time occupation, I imagine.
(Sherlock scowls.)
EQUERRY And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.
JOHN Hello, yes.
(They shake hands.)
EQUERRY My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog.
JOHN (looking startled) Your employer?
EQUERRY Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch.
JOHN Thank you!
(He looks round at Sherlock, clearing his throat smugly.)

EQUERRY (walking closer to Sherlock) And Mr. Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs.
SHERLOCK I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend.
(Looking round momentarily at John, he walks abruptly past him, forcing him to step back, and approaches his brother.)

SHERLOCK Mycroft, I don’t do anonymous clients. I’m used to mystery at one end of my cases. Both ends is too much work.
(He looks round to the equerry.)
SHERLOCK Good morning.

(He starts to walk out of the room but Mycroft steps onto the trailing edge of the sheet behind him. Sherlock’s impetus carries him forward while pulling the sheet off his body. He stops and grabs at it before he’s completely naked and tries to tug it back around himself, looking furious.)
MYCROFT This is a matter of national importance. Grow up.
(With his back still turned to his brother, Sherlock speaks through gritted teeth.) SHERLOCK Get off my sheet!
MYCROFT Or what?
SHERLOCK Or I’ll just walk away.
MYCROFT I’ll let you.
JOHN Boys, please. Not here.
SHERLOCK (almost incandescent with rage) Who. Is. My. Client?
MYCROFT Take a look at where you’re standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the land. Now for God’s sake....
(He breaks off and glances at the equerry briefly, trying to get his anger under control before he turns back to his brother again.)
MYCROFT (exasperated) ...put your clothes on!
(Sherlock closes his eyes furiously, then pulls in a sharp breath.)
Some time later, Sherlock has dressed and is sitting on the sofa again beside John. Mycroft and the equerry sit on the opposite sofa. Mycroft is pouring tea from a teapot. Following the old-fashioned superstition that only one person in the household should pour the tea, and that person is “being mother”, he looks at the equerry and smiles.
MYCROFT I’ll be mother.
SHERLOCK (pointedly) And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.
(Mycroft glowers at him, then puts the teapot down. The equerry looks at Sherlock.) EQUERRY My employer has a problem.
MYCROFT A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen.
SHERLOCK Why? You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?
EQUERRY People do come to you for help, don’t they, Mr. Holmes?
SHERLOCK Not, to date, anyone with a Navy.
MYCROFT This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust.
JOHN You don’t trust your own Secret Service?
MYCROFT Naturally not. They all spy on people for money.
(John bites back a smile.)
EQUERRY I do think we have a timetable.
MYCROFT Yes, of course. Um....
(He opens his briefcase, takes out a glossy photograph and hands it to Sherlock who looks at the picture of Irene Adler.)
MYCROFT What do you know about this woman?
SHERLOCK Nothing whatsoever.
MYCROFT Then you should be paying more attention.

(As he continues to speak, we switch between the palace and footage of Irene as she is being driven through London. Her phone trills a text alert and she looks at the message which reads “I’m sending you a treat”.)
MYCROFT She’s been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately.

SHERLOCK You know I don’t concern myself with trivia. Who is she?
MYCROFT Irene Adler, professionally known as The Woman.
(Arriving at an elegant house in London, Irene’s female chauffeur opens the car door for her and then precedes her into the house. Irene’s phone shows that it is downloading an image as she walks indoors.)
JOHN Professionally?
MYCROFT There are many names for what she does. She prefers ‘dominatrix’. SHERLOCK (thoughtfully) Dominatrix.
MYCROFT Don’t be alarmed. It’s to do with sex.
SHERLOCK Sex doesn’t alarm me.
MYCROFT (smiling snidely at him) How would you know?
(Sherlock raises his head and stares at his brother.)
MYCROFT She provides – shall we say – recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it. (He takes more photographs from his briefcase and hands them to Sherlock.) These are all from her website.
(Sherlock takes the photographs and leafs through them. They are professional-looking publicity shots for her ‘services’ and show Irene at her glamorous and sexy best. At the same time, walking up the stairs at her house, Irene looks down at her phone and flicks through shots which someone has taken of Sherlock wrapped in his sheet as he left 221B and got into Plummer’s car.)
SHERLOCK And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs. EQUERRY You’re very quick, Mr. Holmes.
SHERLOCK Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?
EQUERRY A person of significance to my employer. We’d prefer not to say any more at this time.
(Glaring at him angrily, Sherlock puts the photographs down on the table.)
JOHN You can’t tell us anything?
MYCROFT I can tell you it’s a young person.
(John drinks from his teacup.)
MYCROFT A young female person.
(John’s eyes widen. Sherlock smirks.)
SHERLOCK How many photographs?
MYCROFT A considerable number, apparently.
SHERLOCK Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?
MYCROFT Yes, they do.
SHERLOCK And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios.
MYCROFT An imaginative range, we are assured.
(Without looking round at him, Sherlock realises that John is staring blankly at Mycroft with his teacup still half raised.)
SHERLOCK John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now.
(John quickly does as advised.)
EQUERRY Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?
SHERLOCK How?
EQUERRY Will you take the case?

SHERLOCK What case? Pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, “Know when you are beaten”.
(He turns and reaches for his overcoat which is draped on the back of the sofa.) MYCROFT She doesn’t want anything.

(Sherlock turns back towards him.)
MYCROFT She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour.
SHERLOCK (finally interested for the first time) Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn’t it?
JOHN Sherlock....
SHERLOCK Hmm.
(He turns around and reaches for his coat again.)
SHERLOCK Where is she?
MYCROFT Uh, in London currently. She’s staying....
(Not waiting for him to finish, Sherlock picks up his coat, stands and starts to walk away.) SHERLOCK Text me the details. I’ll be in touch by the end of the day.
(The other three men get to their feet.)
EQUERRY Do you really think you’ll have news by then?
SHERLOCK (turning back to him) No, I think I’ll have the photographs.
EQUERRY One can only hope you’re as good as you seem to think.
(Sherlock looks at him sharply, indignant that he should doubt him. We see a stream of deductions as Sherlock glances down his body.)
Dog Lover
Public School
Horse Rider
Early Riser
Left Side Of Bed
(Sherlock’s eyes begin to rise up the man’s body again as his deductions continue.) Non-Smoker
Father Half Welsh
Keen Reader
Tea Drinker
(Sherlock looks across to Mycroft.)
SHERLOCK I’ll need some equipment, of course.
MYCROFT Anything you require. I’ll have it sent to....
SHERLOCK (interrupting) Can I have a box of matches?
(He’s looking at the equerry as he speaks.)
EQUERRY I’m sorry?
SHERLOCK Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do.
(He holds out his hand expectantly.)
EQUERRY I don’t smoke.
SHERLOCK No, I know you don’t, but your employer does.
(After a pause during which John frowns in puzzlement, the equerry reaches into his pocket and takes out a lighter which he hands to Sherlock.)
EQUERRY We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes.
SHERLOCK I’m not the Commonwealth.
(Taking the lighter and putting it into his trouser pocket, he turns away.)
JOHN (to the equerry) And that’s as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you.
(He follows after Sherlock as he strolls out of the room.)
SHERLOCK (in an Estuary English accent, not sounding the ‘t’ in the word) Laters!

(John throws an apologetic glance over his shoulder as they leave.) Not long afterwards, the boys are in a taxi.
JOHN Okay, the smoking. How did you know?
(Sherlock smiles briefly, then shakes his head.)

SHERLOCK The evidence was right under your nose, John. As ever, you see but do not observe.
JOHN Observe what?
(Sherlock reaches into his coat.)

SHERLOCK The ashtray.
(He pulls out a glass ashtray. John laughs with delight as Sherlock tosses the ashtray into the air, catches it and tucks it back into his coat, chuckling. They are both unaware that someone – presumably in a car driving alongside theirs – is photographing them.)
(Some time later, the photos have been sent to Irene’s phone. Sitting on the side of her bed, she looks through them, smiling, then calls out.)
IRENE Kate!
(Kate, the woman who drove her earlier, comes into the room.)
IRENE We’re going to have a visitor. I’ll need a bit of time to get ready.
(She walks over to her dressing table as Kate bends down to pick up a discarded stocking from the floor.)
KATE A long time?
IRENE Ages!
Later, wearing a see-through negligee over her knickers and stockings, Irene opens the doors to her enormous walk-in wardrobe and walks inside, running her fingers along her outfits as she decides what to wear.
At 221B, John sits in the living room as – on the other side of the kitchen – Sherlock hurls clothes around his bedroom. With the door open, the noise is distracting and finally John looks up from what he’s reading.
JOHN What are you doing?
SHERLOCK Going into battle, John. I need the right armour.
(He walks into view, wearing a large yellow hi-vis jacket.)
SHERLOCK No.
(He rips it off again.)
At her house, Irene is looking at herself in a full-length mirror, turning side-on to look at the glittery dark purple cocktail dress she’s wearing.
IRENE Nah.
KATE (leaning against the door jamb) Works for me.
IRENE Everything works on you.
TAXI. Sherlock and John are on the move. Sherlock is wearing his usual coat and scarf. JOHN So, what’s the plan?
SHERLOCK We know her address.
JOHN What, just ring her doorbell?
SHERLOCK Exactly.
(He calls out to the cab driver.)
SHERLOCK Just here, please.
JOHN You didn’t even change your clothes.
SHERLOCK Then it’s time to add a splash of colour.
At her house, Irene is doing the same thing as Kate carefully applies make-up to her eyes. Nearby, the boys have got out of the taxi and Sherlock leads John down a narrow street, pulling his scarf off as he goes. Eventually he stops and turns around to face John.
JOHN Are we here?
SHERLOCK Two streets away, but this’ll do.
JOHN For what?

SHERLOCK (gesturing to his own left cheek) Punch me in the face.
Kate runs her thumb over Irene’s mouth, wondering what colour to apply.
KATE Shade?
(Irene smiles.)
IRENE Blood.
JOHN Punch you?
SHERLOCK Yes. Punch me, in the face. (He gestures to his left cheek again.) Didn’t you hear me?
JOHN I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text. SHERLOCK (exasperated) Oh, for God’s sakes.
(He punches John in the face. As John grunts in pain and reels from the blow, Sherlock shakes out his hand and then blows out a breath, bracing himself. John straightens up and immediately punches Sherlock. However, despite his anger – and his left-handedness – he does so right-handed and therefore strikes him on the left cheek just as Sherlock had indicated.)
JOHN Ow!
(Turning away as Sherlock picks himself up, he flexes his hand painfully and examines his knuckles. Sherlock finally straightens up, holding his fingers to the cut on his cheek.) SHERLOCK Thank you. That was – that was....
(Still fighting right-handed, John punches him in the stomach, sending him crashing to the ground.)
Slowly Kate paints blood-red lipstick onto Irene’s mouth.
In the street, Sherlock is doubled over with John on his back half–strangling him. John’s face is contorted with pent-up anger and frustration, and Sherlock is struggling to pull his hands off him.
SHERLOCK (half-choking) Okay! I think we’re done now, John.
JOHN (savagely) You wanna remember, Sherlock I was a soldier. I killed people. SHERLOCK You were a doctor!
JOHN I had bad days!
Kate finishes painting Irene’s lips.
KATE What are you gonna wear?
IRENE My battle dress.
KATE Ooh! Lucky boy!
(Downstairs, the intercom buzzes. Kate goes downstairs and activates it, looking at the camera footage from the front door.)
KATE (into intercom) Hello?
(Sherlock stares into the camera wide-eyed and flustered. He talks in an anxious, tearful voice and keeps looking around behind him as he speaks.)
SHERLOCK Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I’ve just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they.... they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?
(Kate has been holding back her laughter as she has been listening to him.)
KATE I can phone the police if you want.
SHERLOCK (tearfully) Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?
(He takes a step back and the camera now shows that his shirt is buttoned right up to the top and there is a piece of white plastic under the collar which makes him look like he is wearing the ‘dog collar’ of a vicar.)
SHERLOCK Oh, would you.... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much.
(Holding a handkerchief to his cheek, he starts to grizzle pathetically. Grinning, Kate buzzes him in. Sherlock comes in, followed by John.)

SHERLOCK (still in character) Thank you. (He briefly looks around the large entrance hall.) Er, ooh!
JOHN (closing the door) I – I saw it all happen. It’s okay, I’m a doctor.
(Kate nods.)

JOHN Now, have you got a first aid kit?
KATE In the kitchen.
(She gestures for Sherlock to go into the front room.)
KATE Please.
SHERLOCK Oh! Thank you!
JOHN Thank you. (He follows Kate as she heads for the kitchen.)
Very shortly afterwards Sherlock has taken off his coat and is sitting on a sofa in the elegant sitting room and looking around. As he hears footsteps approaching, he sits up a little and holds the handkerchief to his cheek.
IRENE (offscreen) Hello. Sorry to hear that you’ve been hurt. I don’t think Kate caught your name.
SHERLOCK I’m so sorry. I’m....
(He turns and looks at Irene as she walks into view and stops at the doorway. His voice fails him as he realises that, with the exception of high-heeled shoes, she is stark naked. His jaw drops a little.)
IRENE Oh, it’s always hard to remember an alias when you’ve had a fright, isn’t it?
(She walks into the room and stands directly in front of him, straddling his legs and half- kneeling on the sofa, then reaches forward and pulls the white plastic dog collar from his shirt collar.)
IRENE There now – we’re both defrocked
(She smiles down at him.)
IRENE Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
SHERLOCK (in his normal voice) Miss Adler, I presume.
IRENE (gazing down at his face) Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?
(Narrowing her eyes, she lifts the white plastic to her mouth and bites down on it. As Sherlock stares up at her in confusion, John walks into the room carrying a bowl of water and a fabric napkin. His eyes are lowered to the bowl to avoid spilling its contents.)
JOHN Right, this should do it.
(He stops dead in the doorway as he lifts his eyes and sees the scene in front of him. Irene looks round to him, the plastic still in her teeth. John looks at her awkwardly, then down at the bowl before looking up again.)
JOHN I’ve missed something, haven’t I?
(Irene takes the plastic from her teeth.)
IRENE Please, sit down.
(She steps back from Sherlock, who fidgets uncomfortably on the sofa as she walks away.)
IRENE Oh, if you’d like some tea I can call the maid.
SHERLOCK I had some at the Palace.
IRENE I know.
(She sits down in a nearby armchair and crosses her legs, folding her arms gracefully to obscure the view of her chest.)
SHERLOCK Clearly.
(They stare silently at each other for several seconds, weighing each other up. John looks at them awkwardly.)
JOHN I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone’s interested.
(Sherlock’s eyes are still fixed on Irene as he attempts to make as many deductions as he can about her. His final analysis is as follows

???????
Bewildered, he turns and looks at John and starts to analyse him.)
Looking at his neckline Two Day Shirt
Looking at his lower face Electric not blade
Looking at the bottom of his jeans and his shoes Date tonight
(John frowns as Sherlock continues to gaze at him.)
Looking at John’s right eyebrow Hasn’t phoned sister
Looking at John’s lower lip New toothbrush
Looking just underneath his eyes Night out with Stamford
(Relieved that he hasn’t had a brain embolism, Sherlock slowly turns his head and looks at Irene again. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he applies all his deductive reasoning as she smiles confidently back at him, and he quickly comes to the following conclusion
???????
He frowns.)
IRENE Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr. Holmes?
(He quirks an eyebrow at her.)
IRENE However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.
SHERLOCK You think I’m a vicar with a bleeding face?
IRENE No, I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it’s yourself.
(Finally fed up with the tightness of his shirt, Sherlock starts unbuttoning the top two buttons. Irene leans forward.)
IRENE Oh, and somebody loves you. Why, if I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.
(She glances across to John momentarily. John forces a laugh.)
JOHN Could you put something on, please? Er, anything at all. (He looks down at what he’s holding.) A napkin.
IRENE Why? Are you feeling exposed?
SHERLOCK (standing up) I don’t think John knows where to look.
(He picks up his coat, shakes it out and holds it out to Irene. Ignoring him for the moment, she stands up and walks closer to John, who rolls his head on his neck uncomfortably and forces himself to maintain eye contact with her and not to let his eyes wander lower.) IRENE No, I think he knows exactly where.
(She turns to Sherlock who is still holding out the coat while steadfastly keeping his gaze averted.)
IRENE (taking the coat from him) I’m not sure about you.
SHERLOCK If I wanted to look at naked women I’d borrow John’s laptop.
JOHN You do borrow my laptop.
SHERLOCK I confiscate it.
(He walks over to the fireplace opposite the sofa.)
IRENE (putting the coat on and wrapping it around her) Well, never mind. We’ve got better things to talk about. Now tell me – I need to know.
(She walks over to the sofa and sits down.)
IRENE How was it done?
SHERLOCK What?
IRENE (taking her shoes off) The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?
(The boys look confused.)
SHERLOCK That’s not why I’m here.
IRENE No, no, no, you’re here for the photographs but that’s never gonna happen, and since we’re here just chatting anyway....
JOHN That story’s not been on the news yet. How do you know about it?
IRENE I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes.

JOHN Oh. (He sits down beside her.) And you like policemen?
IRENE I like detective stories – and detectives. Brainy’s the new sexy.
SHERLOCK (incoherently) Position of the car....
(John turns his head and stares at him as he pulls himself together.)
SHERLOCK (starting to pace slowly) Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head. That’s all you need to know.
IRENE Okay, tell me how was he murdered?
SHERLOCK He wasn’t.
IRENE You don’t think it was murder?
SHERLOCK I know it wasn’t.
IRENE How?
SHERLOCK The same way that I know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs I’m looking for are in this room. IRENE Okay, but how?
SHERLOCK So they are in this room. Thank you. John, man the door. Let no-one in.
(The two of them exchange a significant look, then John gets up and puts the bowl and napkin on a table before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. In the hallway he looks around, then picks up a magazine from a nearby table and rolls it up. Back in the sitting room, Irene sits up straighter, looking suspiciously at the closed door.)
SHERLOCK (starting to pace again) Two men alone in the countryside several yards apart, and one car.
IRENE Oh. I – I thought you were looking for the photos now.
SHERLOCK No, 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.
(He stops and turns to her.)
SHERLOCK Two men, a car, and nobody else.
(He squats down and suddenly it’s as if he is at the crime scene, squatting down next to the driver’s door of Phil’s car. Inside, frozen in time, Phil’s face is screwed up with rage as he is about to slam his hands angrily onto the steering wheel.)
SHERLOCK The driver’s trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere.
(Straightening up, he turns and looks into the field.)
SHERLOCK And the hiker’s taking a moment, looking at the sky.
(Now he’s down in the field, walking around the hiker.)
SHERLOCK Watching the birds?
(He looks doubtful.)
SHERLOCK Any moment now, something’s gonna happen. What?
(Irene is sitting on her sofa which has mysteriously appeared in the field near the hiker.) IRENE The hiker’s going to die.
SHERLOCK No, that’s the result. What’s going to happen?
IRENE I don’t understand.
SHERLOCK Oh, well, try to.
IRENE Why?
SHERLOCK Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop boring me and think. It’s the new sexy.
IRENE The car’s going to backfire.
SHERLOCK There’s going to be a loud noise.
IRENE So, what?
SHERLOCK Oh, noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance.... (Back in the sitting room – which they obviously never really left – he pauses dramatically and a moment later a smoke alarm starts to beep insistently from the hall. Out in the hall, John had set light to the end of the rolled-up magazine, blown it mostly out again and

allowed the smoke to drift upwards. Now he waves his hand over the magazine and blows on it to try to put it out completely. In the sitting room, Irene turns and looks at the large mirror over the fireplace. Sherlock turns his head and follows her gaze.)
SHERLOCK Thank you. On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.

(He walks over to the fireplace and begins running his fingers underneath the mantelpiece. Finding a switch under there, he presses it and the mirror slides upwards, revealing a small wall safe behind it. Sherlock turns and looks at Irene as she stands up.)
SHERLOCK Really hope you don’t have a baby in here.

(He calls out.)
SHERLOCK All right, John, you can turn it off now.
(In the hall, John is still trying to put out the smouldering magazine.)
SHERLOCK (loudly) I said you can turn it off now.
JOHN Give me a minute.
(He starts thwacking the end of the magazine on the table, but then looks round as three men run down the stairs. The first one raises an enormous pistol – the silencer of which is so long that he must be compensating for some other shortcoming – and fires it up at the smoke alarm, shattering it. The beeping stops. One of the other men hurries towards John, aiming his pistol at him and John instantly raises his hands, looking at the first man as he walks over and stops in front of him.)
JOHN Thank you.
(In the sitting room Sherlock is looking closely at the number pad on the front of the safe.) SHERLOCK Hmm. Should always use gloves with these things, you know. Heaviest oil deposit’s always on the first key used – that’s quite clearly the three – but after that the sequence is almost impossible to read. I’d say from the make that it’s a six digit code. Can’t be your birthday – no disrespect but clearly you were born in the eighties; the eight’s barely used, so....
IRENE I’d tell you the code right now but you know what? I already have.
(Sherlock frowns at her.)
IRENE Think.
(The door bursts open and the leader of the group, Neilson, comes in and aims his pistol at Sherlock.)
NEILSON Hands behind your head. (To Irene) On the floor. Keep it still.
(A second man goes over to Irene and walks her nearer to John who is being bundled in by a third man.)
JOHN Sorry, Sherlock.
(As Sherlock raises his hands, Neilson looks round at Irene.)
NEILSON Ms Adler, on the floor.
(His colleague shoves her to her knees beside John who has also been pushed to his knees and is doubled over with his hands behind his head and a pistol pointed to the back of his neck.)
SHERLOCK Don’t you want me on the floor too?
NEILSON No, sir, I want you to open the safe.
SHERLOCK (clocking his accent) American. Interesting. Why would you care?
(He glances across at Irene as she puts her hands behind her head.)
NEILSON Sir, the safe, now, please.
SHERLOCK I don’t know the code.
NEILSON We’ve been listening. She said she told you.
SHERLOCK Well, if you’d been listening, you’d know she didn’t.
NEILSON I’m assuming I missed something. From your reputation, I’m assuming you didn’t, Mr. Holmes.
JOHN For God’s sake. She’s the one who knows the code. Ask her.

NEILSON Yes, sir. She also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm. I’ve learned not to trust this woman.
IRENE Mr. Holmes doesn’t....
NEILSON Shut up. One more word out of you – just one – and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That, for me, will not be a hardship.

(Sherlock glares at him ferociously.)
NEILSON Mr. Archer. At the count of three, shoot Doctor Watson.
JOHN What?
SHERLOCK I don’t have the code.
(John cowers down as Archer presses the muzzle of his pistol into the back of his neck and cocks the gun.)
NEILSON One.
SHERLOCK (emphatically) I don’t know the code.
NEILSON Two.
SHERLOCK She didn’t tell me. (Raising his voice) I don’t know it!
NEILSON I’m prepared to believe you any second now.
(Sherlock looks across to Irene who lowers her gaze pointedly downwards.)
NEILSON Three.
SHERLOCK No, stop!
(Neilson holds up his free hand to stop Archer. John closes his eyes. Sherlock’s gaze becomes distant as his mind works frantically, then he slowly turns towards the safe and lowers his hands. As Neilson watches him closely, he slowly reaches out a finger towards the keypad and punches the ‘3’ and then the ‘2’. Hesitating for a moment, he then punches ‘2’ and ‘4’. Pausing again, he hits ‘3’ and ‘4’. The safe beeps and noisily unlocks. Irene smiles in satisfaction as Sherlock sighs and closes his eyes briefly. John sags lower on his knees and shuts his own eyes.)
NEILSON Thank you, Mr. Holmes. Open it, please.
(Twisting the button that will open the door, Sherlock looks across to Irene again who lowers her gaze to the floor and makes a tiny jerk with her head. He turns back to the safe.)
SHERLOCK (urgently) Vatican cameos.
(Instantly John throws himself to the floor. At the same moment Sherlock pulls open the door of the safe while ducking down below the fireplace. Inside the safe, a tripwire attached to the door tugs on the trigger of a pistol with an equally long and over- compensatory silencer which is aimed straight out of the safe. The gun fires and Archer – who happened to be standing directly in front of it – is shot in the chest. Sherlock grabs for Neilson’s pistol as Irene spins around on her knees and savagely elbows her guard in the groin. Pulling the pistol from Neilson’s grip, Sherlock holds the silencer end and smashes the butt across his face and Neilson drops to the floor unconscious. As Irene’s guard crumples under her blow, she grapples for his pistol and is on her feet and aiming it down at him while he’s still falling. Sherlock turns to her.)
SHERLOCK Do you mind?
IRENE Not at all.
(As her guard tries to get up again, she slams the gun across his face and knocks him unconscious. While she’s distracted, Sherlock reaches into the safe and takes something out of it. Nearby, John has checked Archer over and now stands up.)
JOHN He’s dead.
IRENE (to Sherlock as she continues aiming her pistol down at her guard) Thank you. You were very observant.
JOHN Observant?
IRENE I’m flattered.
SHERLOCK Don’t be.

JOHN Flattered?
SHERLOCK There’ll be more of them. They’ll be keeping a eye on the building.
(Still holding Neilson’s pistol but having removed the silencer [obviously because he doesn’t need to over-compensate....], he hurries out of the room as John tucks Archer’s gun into the back of his jeans and follows him. Irene goes over to the safe and stares into it wide-eyed. Sherlock trots out onto the street with John behind him.)
JOHN We should call the police.
SHERLOCK Yes.
(Pointing the pistol into the air, he fires it five times. Nearby, tyres screech.)
SHERLOCK On their way.
(He turns and trots back into the house.)
JOHN For God’s sake!
SHERLOCK Oh shut up. It’s quick.
(He goes back into the sitting room as Irene turns around from the safe.)
SHERLOCK (to John) Check the rest of the house. See how they got in.
(As John heads off, Sherlock takes the item which he just stole from the safe out of his pocket and tosses it nonchalantly into the air.)
SHERLOCK Well, that’s the knighthood in the bag.
IRENE Ah. And that’s mine.
(She holds out her hand. Ignoring her, Sherlock switches on the security lock on the phone he’s holding. It requires four letters or numbers to activate it and it has “I AM” above the four spaces and “LOCKED” below them.)
SHERLOCK All the photographs are on here, I presume.
IRENE I have copies, of course.
SHERLOCK No you don’t. You’ll have permanently disabled any kind of uplink or connection. Unless the contents of this phone are probably unique, you wouldn’t be able to sell them.
IRENE (lowering her hand) Who said I’m selling?
SHERLOCK (looking at the dead and unconscious bodies lying on the floor) Well, why would they be interested? Whatever’s on the phone, it’s clearly not just photographs. IRENE That camera phone is my life, Mr. Holmes. I’d die before I let you take it. (She walks closer and holds her hand out again.) It’s my protection.
JOHN (calling out) Sherlock!
SHERLOCK (pulling the phone back and looking at Irene pointedly) It was.
(He turns and leaves the room. She chases after him.)
(Upstairs in the bedroom, John is kneeling over the silent figure of Kate lying on the floor. Putting his ear to her mouth to check her breathing, he straightens up and takes her pulse. Standing up, he goes into the en suite bathroom and looks at the open window in there. Sherlock comes into the bedroom followed by Irene.)
JOHN Must have come in this way.
SHERLOCK Clearly.
(He goes into the bathroom to look out of the window as Irene walks anxiously towards Kate.)
JOHN It’s all right. She’s just out cold.
IRENE Well, God knows she’s used to that. There’s a back door. Better check it, Doctor Watson.
(Sherlock has come out of the bathroom and nods to him.)
JOHN Sure.
(He leaves the room as Irene goes over to the dressing table, opens a drawer and covertly takes a syringe out of it. Sherlock is looking at the camera phone and doesn’t notice.) SHERLOCK You’re very calm.
(She looks round at him blankly.)

SHERLOCK Well, your booby trap did just kill a man.
IRENE He would have killed me. It was self defence in advance.
(Walking across to Sherlock, she strokes her hand down his left arm. As he looks down at her hand she steps around behind him and stabs the syringe into his right arm. He gasps and spins around, trying to grab at it.)
SHERLOCK What? What is that? What...?
(As his face turns towards her again, she slaps him hard. He stumbles and falls to the floor. She holds out her hand to him.)
IRENE Give it to me. Now. Give it to me.
(Sherlock’s vision is going fuzzy. Grunting, he tries to get back to his feet.)
SHERLOCK No.
IRENE Give it to me.
(Starting to lose control of his muscles, Sherlock slumps to his hands and knees, still holding onto the phone.)
SHERLOCK No.
IRENE Oh, for goodness’ sake.
(She picks up her riding crop from the dressing table and wields it at him.)
IRENE Drop it.
(Sherlock continues trying to struggle to his feet.)
IRENE I...(she thrashes him)...said ...(she thrashes him again)...drop it.
(She strikes him a third time and he falls to the floor, unintentionally dropping the phone.) IRENE Ah. Thank you, dear.
(As he lies on his back unable to move, she picks up the phone and types on it, standing over Sherlock and looking down at him smugly.)
IRENE Now tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me. They’re not for blackmail, just for insurance.
(She puts the phone into the pocket of Sherlock’s coat which she’s still wearing.)
IRENE Besides, I might want to see her again.
(Grunting, Sherlock tries to get up. Irene presses him back down to the floor with the end of her crop.)
IRENE Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. It’s been a pleasure. Don’t spoil it.
(She gently strokes the end of the crop against his face.)
IRENE This is how I want you to remember me. The woman who beat you.
(Sherlock’s vision becomes more fuzzy.)
IRENE Goodnight, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
(She heads for the bathroom just as John walks back into the bedroom.)
JOHN Jesus. What are you doing?
IRENE He’ll sleep for a few hours. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive corpse.
(She sits on the windowsill in the bathroom, puts her feet up on the edge of the bath and takes hold of a cord hanging from the ledge.)
JOHN (picking up the syringe lying on the floor) What’s this? What have you given him? Sherlock!
IRENE He’ll be fine. I’ve used it on loads of my friends.
JOHN (kneeling and looking down at his flatmate) Sherlock, can you hear me?
IRENE You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look.
JOHN (standing up again and turning to her) For what? What are you talking about? IRENE The key code to my safe.
JOHN What was it?
(She looks down to Sherlock who is gazing at her barely conscious but still trying in vain to get up.)
IRENE Shall I tell him?

(John looks down at him for a moment then turns back to Irene just as sirens announce the arrival of the police. Irene smiles at him.)
IRENE My measurements.
(And with that she pushes her feet against the edge of the bath and topples backwards out of the window, still holding what looked like a cord but was apparently more like a thin rope. John hurries over to the window and looks out while Sherlock still tries vainly to lift himself up but continues to fall back helplessly.)

(As he lapses into unconsciousness, he finds himself – inside his own mind anyway – back at the crime scene in the country and sitting in the driver’s seat of Phil’s car. Irene is standing outside clinging onto the ledge of the rolled-down window and looking in at him urgently.)

IRENE Got it!
(Blinking and trying to clear his head, he turns as if to get out of the car but she holds up a finger.)
IRENE Oh, shush now. Don’t get up. I’ll do the talking.
(She goes around to the rear of the car and bends down to look more closely at the exhaust pipe.)
IRENE So the car’s about to backfire....
(She stands up again and suddenly she and Sherlock are standing near the hiker in the field as he stands frozen and staring upwards at a forty-five degree angle.)
IRENE and the hiker, he’s staring at the sky. Now, you said he could be watching birds but he wasn’t, was he?
(She walks around to the front of the hiker, following his gaze.)
IRENE He was watching another kind of flying thing. The car backfires and the hiker turns to look ....
(The hiker turns his head to look back towards the car and at the same moment an object flies in so rapidly that we can’t see what it is. It strikes him on the back of the head. The man falls backwards and – for a brief moment – Sherlock is back in Irene’s bedroom and falls backwards to the floor. Then he’s back at the crime scene and he and Irene look down at the ground just in front of the hiker.)
IRENE ... which was his big mistake.
(She looks towards the road again.)
IRENE By the time the driver looks up, the hiker’s already dead. What he doesn’t see is what killed him because it’s already being washed downstream.
(Nearby in the stream is the most unlikely item you’d ever expect to see – a boomerang.) IRENE An accomplished sportsman recently returned from foreign travel with...a boomerang. You got that from one look? Definitely the new sexy.
(She turns and smiles at Sherlock.)
SHERLOCK (vaguely) I....
(He blinks, looking around in confusion.)
SHERLOCK I....
(Behind him, a bed rises up to meet him. The angle changes and he sinks down onto the bed and a sheet rises up to wrap around him. His eyes close.)
IRENE Hush now.
(She leans down over him. She’s no longer in the field but inside a room.)
IRENE It’s okay. I’m only returning your coat.
(Sherlock jerks back into consciousness and finds himself alone and in bed in his own bedroom, fully clothed and covered with a sheet. He lifts his head.)
SHERLOCK John?
(He shakes his head, trying to clear it.)
SHERLOCK (louder) John!

(In the living room, John looks round. Sherlock throws the sheet off and kneels up on the bed, then promptly loses his balance, falls forward and rolls over the foot of the bed and onto the floor. John opens the bedroom door and comes in as he sits up.)
JOHN You okay?

SHERLOCK How did I get here?
JOHN Well, I don’t suppose you remember much. You weren’t making a lot of sense. Oh, I should warn you I think Lestrade filmed you on his phone.
SHERLOCK (getting to his feet) Where is she?
JOHN Where’s who?
SHERLOCK The woman. That woman.
JOHN What woman?
SHERLOCK (stumbling around the room aimlessly) The woman. The woman woman! JOHN What, Irene Adler? She got away. No-one saw her.
(Sherlock stumbles over to the open window and looks through it.)
JOHN She wasn’t here, Sherlock.
(Turning around, Sherlock falls down again and starts to drag himself across the floor.) JOHN What are you...? What...? No, no, no, no.
(He hauls Sherlock up and drops him face-down onto the bed.)
JOHN Back to bed. (He covers him over with the sheet again.) You’ll be fine in the morning. Just sleep.
SHERLOCK (blurrily) Of course I’ll be fine. I am fine. I’m absolutely fine.
JOHN Yes, you’re great. Now I’ll be next door if you need me.
SHERLOCK (fuzzily) Why would I need you?
JOHN No reason at all.
(He walks out of the room shutting the door behind him. Sherlock’s coat is hanging on the back of the door. A few moments later his pocket lights up as his phone activates and an orgasmic female sigh comes from the speaker. Sherlock opens his eyes and sits up, looking blearily across to his coat. Frowning at it as he realises that it can only have been returned by Irene, he gets out of bed and wobbles across the floor towards it, losing his balance a couple of times en route but managing to stay on his feet. Finally he gets to the door and takes the phone out of his pocket. Bracing himself against the wall he activates the phone. A new text message reads Till the next time, Mr. Holmes. Sherlock peers at it for a long moment and then looks around suspiciously, totally oblivious to the fact that the most suspicious thing in the room is the red kiss-shaped lipstick mark just to the left of his mouth.)
NEXT MORNING. Sherlock – now fully recovered – and John are sitting at the table in the living room. John is eating breakfast while Sherlock is reading a newspaper. Mycroft stands nearby.
SHERLOCK The photographs are perfectly safe.
MYCROFT In the hands of a fugitive sex worker.
SHERLOCK She’s not interested in blackmail. She wants...protection for some reason. I take it you’ve stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house? MYCROFT How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied. SHERLOCK She’d applaud your choice of words. You see how this works that camera phone is her “Get out of jail free” card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft.
JOHN Though not the way she treats royalty.
(He smiles round at Mycroft sarcastically, who returns the smile humourlessly. Just then an orgasmic female sigh fills the room. John and Mycroft frown.)
JOHN What was that?
SHERLOCK (trying to look nonchalant) Text.
JOHN But what was that noise?

(Sherlock gets up and goes over to pick up his phone from nearby. He looks at the message which reads Good morning, Mr. Holmes)
SHERLOCK Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent John and I in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess.

(He goes back to the table and sits down again as John looks round at Mycroft.)
JOHN Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft.
(Mrs Hudson brings in a plate of breakfast from the kitchen and puts it down in front of Sherlock.)
MRS HUDSON (sternly) 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 and JOHN (simultaneously and furiously) MYCROFT!
(Mycroft looks at their angry faces glaring at him, then cringes and looks contritely at Mrs Hudson.)
MYCROFT Apologies.
MRS HUDSON Thank you.
SHERLOCK Though do, in fact, shut up.
(His phone sighs orgasmically again. Mrs Hudson, who was going back into the kitchen, turns back.)
MRS HUDSON Ooh. It’s a bit rude, that noise, isn’t it?
(Sherlock looks at the latest message which reads Feeling better?)
SHERLOCK There’s nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see. MYCROFT I can put maximum surveillance on her.
SHERLOCK Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her user name is “TheWhipHand”.
MYCROFT Yes. Most amusing.
(His phone rings and he takes it from his pocket.)
MYCROFT Excuse me.
(He walks out into the hall.)
MYCROFT (into phone) Hello.
(Sherlock watches him leave, frowning suspiciously. John looks at him.)
JOHN Why does your phone make that noise?
SHERLOCK What noise?
JOHN That noise – the one it just made.
SHERLOCK It’s a text alert. It means I’ve got a text.
JOHN Hmm. Your texts don’t usually make that noise.
SHERLOCK Well, somebody got hold of the phone and apparently, as a joke, personalised their text alert noise.
JOHN Hmm. So every time they text you....
(Right on cue, the phone sighs orgasmically again.)
SHERLOCK It would seem so.
MRS HUDSON Could you turn that phone down a bit? At my time of life.
(The latest text message reads I’m fine since you didn’t ask. Sherlock puts down the phone again and goes back to reading the paper which – in what is no doubt a massive piece of foreshadowing – is showing the headline “Refit for Historical Hospital”. Anybody want to take any bets on the name of this hospital being “Reichenbach”?)
JOHN I’m wondering who could have got hold of your phone, because it would have been in your coat, wouldn’t it?
(Sherlock raises his newspaper so that it’s obscuring his face.)
SHERLOCK I’ll leave you to your deductions.
(John smiles.)
JOHN I’m not stupid, you know.

SHERLOCK Where do you get that idea?
(Mycroft comes back into the room, still talking on his phone.)
MYCROFT Bond Air is go, that’s decided. Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later.
(He hangs up. Sherlock looks at him.)
SHERLOCK What else does she have?
(Mycroft looks at him enquiringly.)
SHERLOCK Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn’t be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There’s more.
(He stands up and faces his brother.)
SHERLOCK Much more.
(Mycroft looks at him stony-faced. Sherlock walks closer to him.)
SHERLOCK Something big’s coming, isn’t it?
MYCROFT Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours. From now on you will stay out of this.
SHERLOCK (locking eyes with him) Oh, will I?
MYCROFT Yes, Sherlock, you will.
(Sherlock shrugs and turns away.)
MYCROFT Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend.
SHERLOCK (picking up his violin) Do give her my love.
(He begins to play “God Save The Queen”. Mycroft rolls his eyes, turns and leaves the room, Sherlock following along behind him as John grins. As Mycroft hurries down the stairs, Sherlock turns back and walks over to the window, still playing.)
Time passes and now it’s Christmas. Fairy lights are strung up around the window frame of the flat and it’s snowing outside. Inside, the living room is festooned with Christmas decorations and cards, and Sherlock is walking around playing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” on his violin. Mrs Hudson is sitting in his chair with a glass in her hand, watching him happily. Lestrade is standing at the entrance to the kitchen holding a wine glass, and John – wearing a very snazzy Christmassy jumper – walks across the room with a cup and saucer in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. As Sherlock finishes the tune with a fancy flourish, Lestrade whistles in appreciation.
MRS HUDSON Lovely! Sherlock, that was lovely!
JOHN Marvellous!
(Mrs Hudson, apparently a little bit squiffy, giggles up at Sherlock.)
MRS HUDSON I wish you could have worn the antlers!
SHERLOCK Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson.
JOHN (handing her a cup of tea, perhaps an attempt to sober her up) Mrs H.
(A woman in her thirties brings over a tray containing mince pies and slices of cake and offers it to Sherlock.)
SHERLOCK (politely) No thank you, Sarah.
(Her face falls. John hurries over to her and puts his arm around her as she turns away.) JOHN Uh, no, no, no, no, no. He’s not good with names.
SHERLOCK No-no-no, I can get this.
(The woman puts the tray down and straightens up, folding her arms and looking at Sherlock as he starts.)
SHERLOCK No, 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! (He grins falsely at her.) Ah, process of elimination.
(John awkwardly shepherds Jeanette away. Sherlock looks across to the door as a new arrival comes in.)
SHERLOCK Oh, dear Lord.

(Molly Hooper walks in, smiling shyly and carrying two bags which appear to be full of presents.)
MOLLY Hello, everyone. Sorry, hello.
(John walks over to greet her, smiling.)

MOLLY Er, it said on the door just to come up.
(Everyone greets her cheerfully. Sherlock rolls his eyes.)
SHERLOCK Oh, everybody’s saying hullo to each other. How wonderful(!)
(Smiling at him nervously, Molly starts to take her coat and scarf off.)
JOHN (standing ready to take her coat) Let me, er...holy Mary!
(Lestrade gawps in similar appreciation as Molly reveals that she’s wearing a very attractive black dress.)
LESTRADE Wow!
MOLLY Having a Christmas drinkies, then?
SHERLOCK (sitting down at the table) 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 almost worth it!
(Molly giggles nervously, her eyes fixed on Sherlock as he starts typing on John’s laptop. John brings a chair over for her.)
JOHN Have a seat.
SHERLOCK John?
JOHN Mmm?
(As he goes over to see what Sherlock is looking at, Lestrade touches Molly’s arm to get her attention.)
LESTRADE Molly? (She turns to him.) Want a drink?
(As she accepts his offer, John leans over Sherlock’s shoulder to look at the screen.) SHERLOCK The counter on your blog still says one thousand eight hundred and ninety- five.
JOHN (pulling a mock-angry face) Ooh, no! Christmas is cancelled!
(Sherlock points to the side bar which has one of the press pictures of him in his deerstalker.)
SHERLOCK And you’ve got a photograph of me wearing that hat!
JOHN People like the hat.
SHERLOCK No they don’t. What people?
(He continues looking at the laptop as John walks away. Molly turns to Mrs Hudson.) MOLLY How’s the hip?
MRS HUDSON Ooh, it’s atrocious, but thanks for asking.
MOLLY I’ve seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.
(An awkward silence falls. Molly looks embarrassed.)
MOLLY Oh, God. Sorry.
SHERLOCK Don’t make jokes, Molly.
MOLLY No. Sorry.
(Lestrade hands her a glass of red wine.)
MOLLY Thank you. I wasn’t expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas.
LESTRADE That’s first thing in the morning. Me and the wife – we’re back together. It’s all sorted.
(He grins at her.)
SHERLOCK (without looking up from the computer) No, she’s sleeping with a P.E. teacher. (Lestrade’s smile becomes rather fixed. Molly turns to John who is sitting on the arm of his armchair. Jeanette is sitting in the chair itself.)
MOLLY And John. I hear you’re off to your sister’s, is that right?
JOHN Yeah.

MOLLY Sherlock was complaining.
(Sherlock raises his eyebrows indignantly. Molly corrects herself.)
MOLLY ...saying.
JOHN First time ever, she’s cleaned up her act. She’s off the booze.
SHERLOCK Nope.
JOHN Shut up, Sherlock.
SHERLOCK I see you’ve got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you’re serious about him. MOLLY Sorry, what?
SHERLOCK In fact, you’re seeing him this very night and giving him a gift.
JOHN (quietly, exasperated) Take a day off.
LESTRADE (taking a glass across to the table and putting it down near Sherlock) Shut up and have a drink.
SHERLOCK Oh, come on. Surely you’ve all seen the present at the top of the bag – perfectly wrapped with a bow. All the others are slapdash at best.
(He stands up and walks towards Molly, looking at the other presents which aren’t as carefully wrapped.)
SHERLOCK It’s for someone special, then.
(He picks up the well-wrapped present.)
SHERLOCK The shade of red echoes her lipstick – either an unconscious association or one that she’s deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has lurrrve on her mind. The fact that she’s serious about him is clear from the fact she’s giving him a gift at all.
(John looks at Molly anxiously as she squirms in front of Sherlock.)
SHERLOCK That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn; and that she’s seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she’s wearing.
(Smiling smugly across to John and Jeanette, he starts to turn over the gift tag attached to the present.)
SHERLOCK Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts....
(He trails off as he looks down at the writing on the tag. Written in red ink, the greeting reads
Dearest Sherlock
Love Molly xxx
Sherlock gazes at the words in shock as he realises the terrible thing that he has just done. Molly gasps quietly.)
MOLLY You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always.
(As she fights back tears, Sherlock turns to walk away.... but then stops and turns back to her.)
SHERLOCK I am sorry. Forgive me.
(John looks up, startled and amazed at such a human reaction from his friend. Sherlock steps closer to Molly.)
SHERLOCK (softly) Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.
(He leans forward and gently kisses her on the cheek. It’s a sweet and beautiful moment, which is instantly ruined by the sound of an orgasmic sigh. Molly gasps in shock.)
MOLLY No! That wasn’t.... I – I didn’t....
SHERLOCK No, it was me.
LESTRADE My God, really?!
MOLLY What?!
SHERLOCK My phone.
(He reaches into his jacket pocket to get the phone. John narrows his eyes.)
JOHN Fifty-seven?
SHERLOCK Sorry, what?
JOHN Fifty-seven of those texts – the ones I’ve heard.

(Sherlock looks at the message which reads simply Mantelpiece)
SHERLOCK (walking to the mantelpiece) Thrilling that you’ve been counting.
(He picks up a small box wrapped in blood-red paper and tied with black rope-like string. Instantly he flashes back to the colour of Irene’s lipstick, which was identical to this paper.) SHERLOCK Excuse me.
(He walks toward the kitchen.)
JOHN What – what’s up, Sherlock?
SHERLOCK (continuing walking) I said excuse me.
JOHN (calling after him) Do you ever reply?
(Ignoring him, Sherlock walks into his bedroom, sits on the bed and opens the box. Inside is Irene’s camera phone. He takes it out of the box and looks at it closely, then gazes off into the distance thoughtfully.)
(In his own house – or possibly in an official government residence or even just a fancy office – Mycroft is sitting by the fireside. His phone rings and he takes it from his jacket, looks at the Caller I.D. and then, with a look of “Good grief!” on his face, he puts the phone to his ear.)
MYCROFT Oh dear Lord. We’re not going to have Christmas phone calls now, are we? Have they passed a new law?
SHERLOCK I think you’re going to find Irene Adler tonight.
(John has come to the door of the bedroom and stands there listening to the conversation.)
MYCROFT We already know where she is. As you were kind enough to point out, it hardly matters.
SHERLOCK No, I mean you’re going to find her dead.
(Hanging up the phone, he stands up and walks towards the bedroom door.)
JOHN You okay?
SHERLOCK Yes.
(He pushes the door closed, shutting John out. At his place, Mycroft gazes out of the window at the falling snow.)
ST BARTHOLOMEW’S HOSPITAL. Sherlock and Mycroft walk to the morgue and go inside. Molly is waiting inside wearing her lab coat, and a body is lying on the table covered with a sheet.
MYCROFT The only one that fitted the description. Had her brought here – your home from home.
SHERLOCK You didn’t need to come in, Molly.
MOLLY That’s okay. Everyone else was busy with...Christmas.
(Looking awkward, she gestures to the body.)
MOLLY The face is a bit, sort of, bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult.
(She pulls the sheet down to reveal the face.)
MYCROFT That’s her, isn’t it?
SHERLOCK (to Molly) Show me the rest of her.
(Grimacing, Molly walks along the side of the table, pulling the sheet back as she goes. Sherlock looks along the length of the body once, then turns and starts to walk away.) SHERLOCK That’s her.
MYCROFT Thank you, Miss Hooper.
MOLLY Who is she? How did Sherlock recognise her from...not her face?
(Mycroft smiles politely at her, then turns and follows his brother. He finds him standing in the corridor outside, looking out of the window. Walking up behind him, he holds a cigarette over his shoulder.)
MYCROFT Just the one.
SHERLOCK Why?
MYCROFT Merry Christmas.

(Sherlock takes the cigarette and Mycroft digs into his coat pocket to find a lighter.) SHERLOCK Smoking indoors – isn’t there one of those...one of those law things? (Mycroft lights the cigarette for him.)
MYCROFT We’re in a morgue. There’s only so much damage you can do. (Sherlock inhales deeply and then blows the smoke out again.)

MYCROFT How did you know she was dead?
SHERLOCK She had an item in her possession, one she said her life depended on. She chose to give it up.
(He takes another drag on his cigarette.)
MYCROFT Where is this item now?
(Sherlock looks round at the sound of sobbing. A family of three people is standing on the other side of the doors at the end of the corridor, cuddled together and clearly grieving the death of someone close to them. Sherlock and his brother turn to look at the family.) SHERLOCK Look at them. They all care so much. Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?
MYCROFT All lives end. All hearts are broken. (He looks round at his brother.) Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.
(Sherlock blows out another lungful of smoke, then looks down at the cigarette in disgust.) SHERLOCK This is low tar.
MYCROFT Well, you barely knew her.
SHERLOCK Huh!
(He walks away down the corridor.)
SHERLOCK Merry Christmas, Mycroft.
MYCROFT And a happy New Year.
(As his brother walks through the door at the end of the corridor, Mycroft gets out his phone and hits a speed dial.)
MYCROFT He’s on his way. (He’s talking to John who is still back at the flat.) Have you found anything?
JOHN No. Did he take the cigarette?
MYCROFT Yes.
JOHN Shit. (He looks round to Mrs Hudson.) He’s coming. Ten minutes.
MRS HUDSON There’s nothing in the bedroom.
JOHN (into phone) Looks like he’s clean. We’ve tried all the usual places. Are you sure tonight’s a danger night?
MYCROFT No, but then I never am. You have to stay with him, John.
JOHN I’ve got plans.
MYCROFT No.
(He hangs up.)
JOHN Mycroft? M....
(The line goes dead. Chewing the inside of his mouth, he walks across to where Jeanette is sitting on the sofa and sits down beside her.)
JOHN I am really sorry.
JEANETTE You know, my friends are so wrong about you.
JOHN Hmm?
JEANETTE You’re a great boyfriend.
JOHN Okay, that’s good. I mean, I always thought I was great.
JEANETTE And Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man.
(John groans.)
JOHN Jeanette, please.
JEANETTE (bitterly, as she puts her shoes on) No, I mean it. It’s heart-warming. You’ll do anything for him – and he can’t even tell your girlfriends apart.

(She gets off the sofa and heads for the door. He jumps up and follows her as she puts her coat on.)
JOHN No, I’ll do anything for you. Just tell me what it is I’m not doing. Tell me!
JEANETTE Don’t make me compete with Sherlock Holmes.

JOHN I’ll walk your dog for you. Hey, I’ve said it now. I’ll even walk your dog.... JEANETTE I don’t have a dog!
JOHN No, because that was...the last one. Okay.
JEANETTE Jesus!

(Picking up her bag, she storms out.) JOHN I’ll call you.
JEANETTE No!
JOHN Okay.

(Exasperated, he turns back into the room as she runs down the stairs. Mrs Hudson looks at him sympathetically.)
MRS HUDSON That really wasn’t very good, was it?
Shortly afterwards, John is sitting in his chair reading as Sherlock comes up the stairs and stops in the doorway of the living room. John looks round at him.

JOHN Oh, hi.
(Sherlock stands there, his eyes roaming all around the living room.)
JOHN You okay?
(Sherlock continues to scan the room for a long moment, then turns and walks back to the kitchen door, heading for his bedroom.)
SHERLOCK Hope you didn’t mess up my sock index this time.
(His bedroom door slams shut. John puts his book down and sighs heavily.)
MORNING. 221B. Sherlock is standing at the window in the living room and playing a sad lament on his violin. John walks into the room and sighs as he sees him. Mrs Hudson walks across to the table and picks up the plates, looking at John pointedly as they both realise that Sherlock hasn’t touched his breakfast. John hums resignedly as he takes his jacket from the back of the chair and puts it on. Sherlock stops playing and picks up a pencil to make a notation on his music.
MRS HUDSON Lovely tune, Sherlock. Haven’t heard that one before.
JOHN You composing?
SHERLOCK Helps me to think.
(He turns back to the window, lifts the violin and begins to play the same tune again.) JOHN What are you thinking about?
(Sherlock suddenly spins around and puts the violin down. He points at John’s laptop.) SHERLOCK (rapidly) The counter on your blog is still stuck at one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five.
JOHN Yeah, it’s faulty. Can’t seem to fix it.
SHERLOCK (taking out Irene’s camera phone) Faulty – or you’ve been hacked and it’s a message.
(He pulls up the security lock with its “I AM ---- LOCKED” screen.)
JOHN Hmm?
(Sherlock types “1895” into the phone. The phone beeps warningly and a message comes up reading “WRONG PASSCODE. 3 ATTEMPTS REMAINING”. The enthusiasm in Sherlock’s eyes dies again.)
SHERLOCK Just faulty.
(He turns away and picks up his violin again.)
JOHN Right.
(Sherlock begins to play the sad tune once more.)
JOHN Right. Well, I’m going out for a bit.

(Sherlock doesn’t respond. John turns and walks to the kitchen where Mrs Hudson is tidying up.)
JOHN (quietly) Listen has he ever had any kind of...(he sighs)...girlfriend, boyfriend, a relationship, ever?

MRS HUDSON I don’t know.
JOHN (sighing in frustration) How can we not know?
MRS HUDSON He’s Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?
(John smiles sadly.)
JOHN Right. See ya.
(He trots off down the stairs. Mrs Hudson looks at Sherlock playing his violin at the window, and then leaves the room.)
(Downstairs, John goes out of the front door and pulls it closed. As he turns to go to the left, a woman is standing just to the right of the flat. She calls out to him.)
WOMAN John?
JOHN Yeah.
(He stops and turns around to her as she looks at him flirtatiously.)
JOHN Hello.
(It takes him a moment but then he realises that she’s very pretty and her body language appears to be saying, “Take me big boy I’m all yours.”)
JOHN Hello!
WOMAN (walking closer) So, any plans for New Year tonight?
(John laughs as his eyes continually roam over her body.)
JOHN Er, nothing fixed. Nothing I couldn’t heartlessly abandon. You have any ideas?
(The woman looks over her shoulder towards the road.)
WOMAN One.
(John follows her gaze and sighs in exasperation as a black car pulls up and stops beside them.)
JOHN You know, Mycroft could just phone me, if he didn’t have this bloody stupid power complex.
(They get into the car and it pulls away...and takes them to the biggest power complex in the neighbourhood – the empty shell of Battersea Power Station. Pulling up inside the building, John and the woman get out and she leads him through the abandoned structure.)
JOHN Couldn’t we just go to a café? Sherlock doesn’t follow me everywhere.
(Still walking, the woman types onto her phone, then stops and gestures ahead of herself.) WOMAN Through there.
(John gives her a dirty look, then walks on. The woman turns and heads back the way she came, lifting her phone to her ear.)
WOMAN He’s on his way. You were right – he thinks it’s Mycroft.
(John reaches a large room and starts talking straightaway even though he can’t yet see anybody.)
JOHN He’s writing sad music; doesn’t eat; barely talks – only to correct the television.
(He walks further into the room and finally a figure begins to step out of the shadows at the other end.)
JOHN I’d say he was heartbroken but, er, well, he’s Sherlock. He does all that anyw...
(He trails off as Irene Adler walks into view.)
IRENE Hello, Doctor Watson.
(She stops some distance away from him and he simply stares at her for several seconds before he finally finds some words.)
JOHN (quietly, but with a note of pleading in his voice) Tell him you’re alive.
IRENE (shaking her head) He’d come after me.

JOHN I’ll come after you if you don’t.
IRENE Mmm, I believe you.
JOHN (louder) You were dead on a slab. It was definitely you.
IRENE DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep.
JOHN And I bet you know the record-keeper.
IRENE I know what he likes, and I needed to disappear.
JOHN Then how come I can see you, and I don’t even want to?
IRENE Look, I made a mistake. I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping and now I need it back, so I need your help.
JOHN No.
IRENE It’s for his own safety.
JOHN So’s this tell him you’re alive.
IRENE I can’t.
JOHN (fighting back his anger) Fine. I’ll tell him, and I still won’t help you.
(He turns and starts to walk away.)
IRENE What do I say?
JOHN (furiously as he turns back to her) What do you normally say? You’ve texted him a lot.
(Irene has taken her phone out and holds it up as John stops and glares at her.)
IRENE Just the usual stuff.
JOHN There is no ‘usual’ in this case.
(Irene looks down at her phone and starts to read back messages she has sent to Sherlock.)
IRENE “Good morning”; “I like your funny hat”; “I’m sad tonight. Let’s have dinner”... (John looks round at her, startled.)
IRENE ...“You looked sexy on ‘Crimewatch’. Let’s have dinner”; “I’m not hungry, let’s have dinner”.
(John stares at her in disbelief.)
JOHN You...flirted with Sherlock Holmes?!
IRENE (still looking at her phone) At him. He never replies.
JOHN No, Sherlock always replies – to everything. He’s Mr. Punchline. He will outlive God trying to have the last word.
IRENE Does that make me special?
JOHN ...I don’t know. Maybe.
IRENE Are you jealous?
JOHN We’re not a couple.
IRENE Yes you are. There....
(She holds up her phone to show John the screen, although he’s too far away to read it. She tells him what she has typed anyway.)
IRENE “I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner.”
(She presses the Send button. John turns away momentarily and then turns back to her.) JOHN (quietly) Who...,who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes, but – for the record – if anyone out there still cares, I’m not actually gay.
IRENE Well, I am. Look at us both.
(John laughs ruefully. Just then an orgasmic female sigh can be heard a short distance away. In the corridor outside the room, unseen by either of them, Sherlock switches his phone off and rapidly walks away. John starts to walk in the direction of the sound but Irene holds out her hand to stop him. She looks at him pointedly.)
IRENE I don’t think so, do you?
Some time later, Sherlock is walking down Baker Street towards his flat, his gaze distant and lost. As he arrives at the front door of 221B and turns to put his key in the door, his expression sharpens as he realises that the door has been jemmied open. Slowly pushing

the door open, he goes inside and carefully puts his hand onto the opaque glass window of the interior door before also pushing that one open and stepping through into the hall. Immediately he sees that the door to 221A is ajar, and partway down the hall is a plastic bucket. He takes a quick glance at the various items inside the bucket and sees that they’re cleaning materials a pair of rubber gloves, a duster, a spray can of what is probably screen and telephone sanitizer, a toilet brush and a bottle of disinfectant, and a couple of other items. Sherlock steps closer to the stairs and sees a couple of scuff marks on the wall just above the risers. He instantly realises that one of the marks was made by someone awkwardly walking backwards up the stairs and having to feel their way with their feet, while the second was made by someone following the first person while facing forwards but being thrown off-balance by something. Looking more closely at the wall he sees a small indentation in the wallpaper. His gaze becomes more intense as he deduces that it was formed by someone dragging their hand along the wall, clawing at it in a desperate attempt to stop themselves being hauled backwards up the stairs. The depth of the nail mark can only have been made by someone with fairly long nails, and now Sherlock knows that the person being dragged was Mrs Hudson. Slowly he raises his head as he visualises her struggling as she is half-pulled and half-carried upstairs by a couple of men as a third man precedes them. In his mind, he hears her panic-stricken protests of, “Stop it!” at her assailants before she cries out Sherlock’s name in terror and anguish.)

(Sherlock stares intensely up the stairs and slowly his expression changes from deductive to outright murderous. Your transcriber sobs at the ferocity in his gaze and challenges anyone to say that Benedict Cumberbatch isn’t one of the finest actors of our time. Sherlock stands there for a few seconds as his rage builds, and then he gets moving.) (Not long afterwards he slowly pushes open the door to the living room of 221B. In front of the fireplace Mrs Hudson is sitting on a dining chair facing the door, and behind her stands Neilson, the CIA man who led the raid on Irene’s house. He is holding another pistol with an over-compensatory silencer attached and is aiming the gun at the back of Mrs Hudson’s head. One of his men is standing looking out of the window but turns as the door opens; the other stands near the sliding door into the kitchen. As Sherlock slowly strolls into the room with his hands clasped behind his back, Mrs Hudson – already crying quietly – begins to sob a little louder.)

MRS HUDSON Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock!
SHERLOCK Don’t snivel, Mrs Hudson. It’ll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet.
(He looks at Neilson.)
SHERLOCK What a tender world that would be.
MRS HUDSON (sobbing quietly as she gazes up at him) Oh, please, sorry, Sherlock. NEILSON I believe you have something that we want, Mr. Holmes.
SHERLOCK Then why don’t you ask for it?
(He walks closer and holds out his right hand towards Mrs Hudson. She flails towards it, whimpering, and he gently turns back the sleeve of her right hand and looks at the bruises on her wrist.)
MRS HUDSON (crying) Sher....
NEILSON I’ve been asking this one. She doesn’t seem to know anything.
(Sherlock’s gaze rises a little and he sees that the right shoulder of Mrs H’s cardigan has been ripped at the seam, exposing her skin underneath.)
NEILSON But you know what I’m asking for, don’t you, Mr. Holmes?
(Sherlock looks a little higher and sees a cut on her right cheek. His eyes flick across to Neilson’s right hand holding the pistol. He has a silver ring on his third finger and there is blood on it. Sherlock raises his head and looks directly at Neilson – but he isn’t deducing him. In very rapid succession he is picking out target points on his body
Carotid Artery

Skull
Eyes
His eyes drop to Neilson’s arm and chest
Artery
Lungs
Ribs
He raises his eyes to Neilson’s again.)
SHERLOCK I believe I do.
(Mrs Hudson whimpers as he releases her hands and straightens up, putting his hands behind his back again.)
MRS HUDSON Oh, please, Sherlock.
SHERLOCK (to Neilson) First, get rid of your boys.
NEILSON Why?
SHERLOCK I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room. (Neilson hesitates for a moment, then glances at his colleagues.)
NEILSON You two, go to the car.
SHERLOCK Then get into the car and drive away. (He looks back to Neilson.) Don’t try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn’t work.
(He clicks the ‘k’ of ‘work’ loudly. Your transcriber faints. The two men leave the room and head down the stairs.)
SHERLOCK Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me.
NEILSON So you can point a gun at me?
SHERLOCK (stepping back and spreading his arms to either side) I’m unarmed.
NEILSON Mind if I check?
SHERLOCK Oh, I insist.
(Neilson comes around from behind Mrs Hudson, walks over to Sherlock and pats his breast pocket and flicks the coat open while Sherlock stands meekly with his arms still spread. Walking around behind him, Neilson starts patting for any hidden weapon at his back. Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically at Mrs Hudson, but he is already covertly starting to bend his right arm towards himself. So fast that your transcriber absolutely can’t tell where it came from, he whips out the sanitizer spray can, twists around and sprays the contents directly into Neilson’s eyes. As Neilson screams, Sherlock rears back and then savagely headbutts him in the face. Neilson falls back over the coffee table, unconscious, as Sherlock flips the can into the air triumphantly.)
SHERLOCK Moron.
(Slamming the can onto the table, he hurries over to Mrs Hudson and drops to his knees in front of her.)
MRS HUDSON Oh, thank you.
SHERLOCK (gently stroking her face) You’re all right now, you’re all right.
MRS HUDSON Yes.
(Sherlock looks over his shoulder towards Neilson’s prone body, his expression still promising murder.)
Not long afterwards, the black car pulls up outside 221 and John gets out. The car drives away and he walks to the door, then stops as he sees a handwritten note attached underneath the knocker. He looks around the street for a moment, then pushes the door open and goes inside. Written on the note is
CRIME IN PROGRESS
PLEASE DISTURB
(He goes upstairs and hurries into the living room.)
JOHN What’s going on?
(He stops at the sight of Neilson, bound and gagged with duct tape and sitting on the chair near the fireplace. His nose is broken and blood has run down his face and is dripping

from his chin. Mrs Hudson is sitting on the sofa and Sherlock is in a chair nearby, holding Neilson’s pistol aimed at him with one hand, and his phone to his ear with the other.) JOHN Jeez. What the hell is happening?
SHERLOCK Mrs Hudson’s been attacked by an American. I’m restoring balance to the universe.

(John immediately hurries over to sit down next to her.)
JOHN Oh, Mrs Hudson, my God. Are you all right? (Glaring at Neilson as he puts his arm around her shoulders) Jesus, what have they done to you?
(Mrs Hudson breaks down in tears again.)
MRS HUDSON (covering her face with her hands) Oh, I’m just being so silly.
JOHN (pulling her closer) No, no.
(Sherlock gets to his feet, still holding the phone to his ear while aiming the gun at Neilson.)
SHERLOCK (to John) Downstairs. Take her downstairs and look after her.
(John stands up and helps her to her feet.)
JOHN (gently) All right, it’s all right. I’ll have a look at that.
MRS HUDSON (tearfully) I’m fine, I’m fine.
(As she walks out of the room, John steps over to Sherlock, whose eyes are fixed on Neilson.)
JOHN Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?
SHERLOCK I expect so. Now go.
(They look at each other for a moment, then turn their gazes to Neilson and now he’s got two murderous expressions aimed at him. John turns to leave the room but just before his head is completely turned away, a small smile begins to form on his face as if he wants Neilson to understand that he is about to encounter a whole world of hurt.)
SHERLOCK (into phone as John walks away) Lestrade. We’ve had a break-in at Baker Street. Send your least irritating officers and an ambulance. (Finally taking his eyes off Neilson, he walks across to the table and lays the pistol down on it.) Oh, no-no-no-no-no, we’re fine. No, it’s the, uh, it’s the burglar. He’s got himself rather badly injured.
(Neilson looks nervous as Sherlock listens to Lestrade’s question.)
SHERLOCK Oh, a few broken ribs, fractured skull...suspected punctured lung.
(He looks over his shoulder at Neilson.)
SHERLOCK (into phone) He fell out of a window.
(Still looking into Neilson’s eyes, he hangs up.)
Downstairs in Mrs Hudson’s kitchen, she and John are standing by the sink as he gently applies some antiseptic to the cut on her cheek. She flinches.
MRS HUDSON Ooh, it stings.
(John nods as he continues cleaning the cut. A moment later a shape plummets down past the window and lands with a crash. John and Mrs H look at the window.)
MRS HUDSON Ooh. That was right on my bins.
(There’s an agonised groan from outside.)
Some time later, it’s fully dark outside and an ambulance is only now pulling away from 221. Sherlock is standing outside Speedy’s café with Lestrade.
LESTRADE And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?
SHERLOCK It’s all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector. I lost count.
(Not bothering to comment, Lestrade walks away. A little later Sherlock comes in through the kitchen door of 221A and wipes his feet carefully on the doormat. Mrs Hudson and John are sitting at her small kitchen table and the wall clock shows 9:32 p.m. [although this may not be accurate because when Sherlock phoned Lestrade it was broad daylight outside.] Mrs H still looks very shaken.)
JOHN She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her.
MRS HUDSON No.

SHERLOCK Of course, but she’s fine.
JOHN No, she’s not. Look at her.
(Sherlock opens the fridge door and peers inside before picking something up.)
JOHN She’s got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor’s orders.
(Kicking the fridge door shut, Sherlock frowns at John and bites into a mince pie.) SHERLOCK Don’t be absurd.
JOHN She’s in shock, for God’s sake, and all over some bloody stupid camera phone. Where is it, anyway?
SHERLOCK Safest place I know.
(Wiping crumbs from his mouth, he looks down at Mrs Hudson who reaches down inside her top and pulls the phone out of her bra before handing it to Sherlock.)
MRS HUDSON You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot. (She laughs briefly.) I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry. SHERLOCK (tossing it into the air before putting it in his coat pocket) Thank you.
(He looks at John.)
SHERLOCK Shame on you, John Watson.
JOHN Shame on me?!
SHERLOCK Mrs Hudson leave Baker Street?
(He puts a protective arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer to him.)
SHERLOCK (sternly) England would fall.
(She laughs as she strokes his hand. He chuckles gently. John smiles at them both.) Later, the boys are back upstairs. John fixes himself a drink in the kitchen and then comes into the living room as Sherlock takes his coat off.
JOHN Where is it now?
SHERLOCK Where no-one will look.
(Walking across to the window, he picks up his violin and turns his back to the room.) JOHN Whatever’s on that phone is more than just pictures.
SHERLOCK Yes, it is.
(He tinkers with his violin and checks its tuning. John watches him for a moment.)
JOHN So, she’s alive then. How are we feeling about that?
(In the distance, Big Ben begins to toll the hour. Sherlock pulls in a sharp breath.) SHERLOCK Happy New Year, John.
JOHN Do you think you’ll be seeing her again?
(Turning around but not yet meeting his eyes, Sherlock picks up his bow and flips it in the air before starting to play “Auld Lang Syne” and looking at John pointedly. John gets the message and sits down in his chair as Sherlock turns back to the window and continues to play.)
(Not far away, within sight of St Paul’s Cathedral, Irene is walking along the street when her phone trills a text alert. Taking the phone from her bag and checking the message, she sees that it reads
Happy New Year
SH
She looks at the message for a long time before continuing onwards.)
DAY TIME. ST BART’S. In the Molly lab, Sherlock is looking at an X-ray on a computer screen which is showing the interior parts of a phone. Molly is nearby. He leans closer to the screen and sees four small round dark areas scattered around the phone. He looks exasperated.
MOLLY Is that a phone?
SHERLOCK It’s a camera phone.
MOLLY And you’re X-raying it?
SHERLOCK Yes, I am.

MOLLY Whose phone is it?
SHERLOCK A woman’s.
MOLLY Your girlfriend?
SHERLOCK You think she’s my girlfriend because I’m X-raying her possessions? MOLLY (laughing nervously) Well, we all do silly things.

SHERLOCK Yes.
(He lifts his head as he is suddenly inspired and he looks round to Molly.)
SHERLOCK They do, don’t they? Very silly.
(She looks confused as he gets to his feet and takes the phone out of the X-ray machine and holds it up.)
SHERLOCK She sent this to my address, and she loves to play games.
MOLLY She does?
(Sherlock pulls up the “I AM ---- LOCKED” screen and types “221B” into the phone. The phone beeps warningly and a message comes up reading “WRONG PASSCODE. 2 ATTEMPTS REMAINING”. He looks exasperated and sits down again.)
SOME MONTHS LATER. 221B. Sherlock reaches the top of the stairs and then stops abruptly outside the kitchen door. He sniffs deeply. Taking a couple more deep breaths, he turns and looks into the kitchen, then walks across to the window and checks it as he realises that it is open. Turning and sniffing again, he starts to walk slowly towards his bedroom just as the downstairs door slams and feet start trotting up the stairs. Reaching his room, he pushes the door open as John comes into the kitchen with bags of shopping. Sherlock walks into the bedroom and turns to stand and look down at the bed. John notices him.
JOHN Sherlock....
SHERLOCK We have a client.
JOHN What, in your bedroom?!
(He walks along the passage and into the bedroom, then his jaw drops as he sees the bed.)
JOHN Ohhh.
(Irene – fully clothed – is asleep in Sherlock’s bed.)
Some time later Irene has changed into one of Sherlock’s dressing gowns and is sitting in his chair in the living room. The boys are sitting at the table looking at her.
SHERLOCK So who’s after you?
IRENE People who want to kill me.
SHERLOCK Who’s that?
IRENE Killers.
JOHN It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific.
SHERLOCK So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them.
IRENE It worked for a while.
SHERLOCK Except you let John know that you were alive, and therefore me.
IRENE I knew you’d keep my secret.
SHERLOCK You couldn’t.
IRENE But you did, didn’t you? Where’s my camera phone?
JOHN It’s not here. We’re not stupid.
IRENE Then what have you done with it? If they’ve guessed you’ve got it, they’ll be watching you.
SHERLOCK If they’ve been watching me, they’ll know that I took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few months ago.
IRENE I need it.
JOHN Well, we can’t just go and get it, can we?
(He looks round to Sherlock, inspired.)

JOHN Molly Hooper. She could collect it, take it to Bart’s; then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the café, and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back.
SHERLOCK (smiling) Very good, John. Excellent plan, with intelligent precautions.
JOHN Thank you. (He picks up his phone.) So, why don’t...Oh, for....
(He has just seen Sherlock take the camera phone out of his jacket pocket and hold it up. Sherlock looks at the phone closely as Irene stands up.)
SHERLOCK So what do you keep on here – in general, I mean?
IRENE Pictures, information, anything I might find useful.
JOHN What, for blackmail?
IRENE For protection. 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 I told you – I misbehave.
SHERLOCK But you’ve acquired something that’s more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?
IRENE Yes, but I don’t understand it.
SHERLOCK I assumed. Show me.
(Irene holds out her hand for the phone. Sherlock holds it up out of her reach.) SHERLOCK The passcode.
(She continues to hold her hand out, and eventually Sherlock sits forward and hands her the phone. Activating it and holding it so he can’t see the screen or the keypad, she types in four characters. The phone beeps warningly.)
IRENE It’s not working.
SHERLOCK (standing up and taking the phone from her) No, because it’s a duplicate that I had made, into which you’ve just entered the numbers one oh five eight.
(He walks over to his chair in which she was just sitting and retrieves the real camera phone from under the cushion.)
SHERLOCK I assumed you’d choose something more specific than that but, um, thanks anyway.
(He pulls up the “I AM ---- LOCKED” screen and types “1058” into the phone. He looks at her smugly but then the phone beeps warningly and a message comes up reading “WRONG PASSCODE. 1 ATTEMPT REMAINING”. He stares in disbelief.)
IRENE I told you that camera phone was my life. I know when it’s in my hand. SHERLOCK Oh, you’re rather good.
IRENE (smiling at him) You’re not so bad.
(She holds her hand out again and takes the phone from him. John frowns at the pair of them as they have intense eyesex for the next few seconds.)
JOHN (abruptly) Hamish.
(They both turn to look at him.)
JOHN John Hamish Watson – just if you were looking for baby names.
(Sherlock frowns in confusion.)
IRENE There was a man – an MOD official. I knew what he liked.
(Walking a short distance away from the boys so they can’t see her screen or keypad, she types in her real passcode and calls up a photo.)
IRENE One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this email was going to save the world. He didn’t know it, but I photographed it. (She hands the phone to Sherlock.) He was a bit tied up at the time. It’s a bit small on that screen – can you read it? (Sherlock sits down on the other side of the table to John and narrows his eyes at the photograph. The top of the email – possibly the subject line – reads 007 Confirmed allocation
Underneath in smaller print is a string of numbers

4C12C45F13E13G60A60B61F34G34J60D12H33K34K
SHERLOCK Yes.
IRENE A code, obviously. I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it – though he was mostly upside down, as I recall. Couldn’t figure it out.
(Sherlock leans forward, concentrating on the screen.)
IRENE What can you do, Mr. Holmes?
(She leans over his shoulder.)
IRENE Go on. Impress a girl.
(Time slows down as she begins to lean towards him. Oblivious to her approach, the numbers in the code race through Sherlock’s mind and begin to form into shapes for him. By the time she has leant in and kissed his cheek, he has already solved it. His eyes drift momentarily in her direction as she pulls back smiling, but then he concentrates on the screen again.)
SHERLOCK (speaking rapidly) There’s a margin for error but I’m pretty sure there’s a Seven Forty-Seven leaving Heathrow tomorrow at six thirty in the evening for Baltimore. Apparently it’s going to save the world. Not sure how that can be true but give me a moment; I’ve only been on the case for eight seconds.
(He looks at John’s blank face in front of him, then glances round at Irene who hasn’t even fully straightened up yet.)
SHERLOCK Oh, come on. It’s not code. These are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look there’s no letter ‘I’ because it can be mistaken for a ‘1’; no letters past ‘K’ – the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place – families and couples sitting together. Only a Jumbo is wide enough to need the letter ‘K’ or rows past fifty-five, which is why there’s always an upstairs. There’s a row thirteen, which eliminates the more superstitious airlines. Then there’s the style of the flight number – zero zero seven – that eliminates a few more; and assuming a British point of origin, which would be logical considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the six thirty to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow Airport.
(By now he has stood up, and now he lowers the phone and looks down at Irene, who gazes up at him in admiration.)
SHERLOCK (engaging the full force of his cello jaguar voice and sending your transcriber into a complete meltdown) Please don’t feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John’s expressed the same thought in every possible variant available to the English language.
IRENE (intensely) I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice.
(The two of them stare at each other for a long moment before Sherlock speaks again.) SHERLOCK (with his eyes still locked on Irene’s) John, please can you check those flight schedules; see if I’m right?
JOHN (vaguely, overcome by all the sex in the air) Uh-huh. I’m on it, yeah.
(Clearing his throat, he starts to type on his laptop. Sherlock and Irene continue to stare at each other.)
SHERLOCK I’ve never begged for mercy in my life.
IRENE (emphatically) Twice.
JOHN (looking at his screen) Uh, yeah, you’re right. Uh, flight double oh seven. SHERLOCK (looking round at him) What did you say?
JOHN You’re right.
SHERLOCK No, no, no, after that. What did you say after that?
JOHN Double oh seven. Flight double oh seven.

SHERLOCK (quietly to himself) Double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven....
(Pushing Irene out of the way, he begins to pace.)
SHERLOCK ...something,...something connected to double oh seven.... What?

(As he continues to pace and mutter the numbers to himself, Irene puts the phone behind her back and begins to type blind on it 747 TOMORROW 6 30PM HEATHROW)
(The message is sent to the phone of Jim Moriarty. Standing in Westminster very near the Houses of Parliament, he takes his phone out and reads the message.)

(Back at 221B, Sherlock has walked to the fireplace and is standing in front of the mirror with his eyes closed.)
SHERLOCK (quietly) Double oh seven, double oh seven, what, what, something, what? (His eyes snap open as he begins to remember and he turns and looks at the living room door, remembering Mycroft standing on the landing talking into his phone.)

MYCROFT Bond Air is go.
(Sherlock walks towards the door.)
MYCROFT Bond Air is go....Bond Air is go.
(As the words continue to echo in Sherlock’s mind, at Westminster Jim is typing a message onto his phone
Jumbo Jet. Dear me Mr Holmes, dear me.
He presses Send and the message wings its way up into the air. As if watching it go, Jim raises his eyes towards Big Ben, the very image of the seat of the British government, and blows a long and loud raspberry at it.)
(At Mycroft’s house/residence/fancy office he picks up his phone from the dining table and looks at a newly arrived message. It reads Jumbo Jet. Dear me Mr Holmes, dear me.) (Time passes and Mycroft returns to the chair at the end of the dining table and sinks down into it, running his hand over his face and clearly still shocked by the turn of events.)
(More time passes and Mycroft has removed his jacket and has a glass of brandy in front of him. His hands are folded in front of his mouth and he is lost in wide-eyed and horrified thought.)
(Much later, as night begins to fall, Mycroft’s face is furrowed with anguish and his eyes are still wide at the horror which only he knows about. The glass beside him is empty. Slowly he closes his eyes and sinks his head into his hands in despair.)
NIGHT TIME. 221B. Sherlock sits in his armchair gently plucking the strings of his violin. In his mind he can still hear Mycroft’s phone call.
MYCROFT Bond Air is go, that’s decided. Check with the Coventry lot.
(Sherlock finally rouses a little and looks up.)
SHERLOCK Coventry.
(Irene, still wearing Sherlock’s dressing gown, is sitting in John’s chair watching him closely.)
IRENE I’ve never been. Is it nice?
SHERLOCK Where’s John?
IRENE He went out a couple of hours ago.
SHERLOCK I was just talking to him.
IRENE (smiling) He said you do that. What’s Coventry got to do with anything? SHERLOCK It’s a story, probably not true. In the Second World War, the Allies knew that Coventry was going to get bombed because they’d broken the German code but they didn’t want the Germans to know that they’d broken the code, so they let it happen anyway.
IRENE Have you ever had anyone?
(Sherlock frowns at her blankly.)
SHERLOCK Sorry?
IRENE And when I say “had”, I’m being indelicate.

SHERLOCK I don’t understand.
IRENE Well, I’ll be delicate then.
(Getting up from the chair she walks over and kneels in front of Sherlock, putting her left hand on top of his right hand and curling her fingers around it.)
IRENE Let’s have dinner.
SHERLOCK Why?
IRENE Might be hungry.
SHERLOCK I’m not.
IRENE Good.
(Hesitantly, Sherlock sits forward a little and slowly turns his right hand over, curling his own fingers around her wrist.)
SHERLOCK Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn’t hungry?
(Slowly Irene begins to lean forward, her gaze fixed on his lips.)
IRENE (softly) Oh, Mr. Holmes....
(Sherlock’s fingers gently stroke across the underside of her wrist.)
IRENE ...if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me?
MRS HUDSON (calling up the stairs) Sherlock!
(Sherlock’s eyes slide towards the door.)
IRENE (ruefully) Too late.
SHERLOCK That’s not the end of the world; that’s Mrs Hudson.
(Irene pulls her hand free and stands up, walking away from him as Mrs Hudson comes in with none other than Plummer from the Palace.)
MRS HUDSON Sherlock, this man was at the door. Is the bell still not working?
(She turns around to Plummer and points at Sherlock.)
MRS HUDSON He shot it.
SHERLOCK (tetchily, to Plummer) Have you come to take me away again?
PLUMMER Yes, Mr. Holmes.
SHERLOCK Well, I decline.
PLUMMER (taking an envelope from his jacket and offering it to him) I don’t think you do. (Sherlock snatches it from him and opens it. Inside is a Business Class boarding pass for Flyaway Airways in the name of Sherlock Holmes for flight number 007 to Baltimore, scheduled to leave at 18.30.)
(Very shortly afterwards, Sherlock has put his coat on and is getting into the back of a car outside the flat. As Plummer gets into the passenger seat and the car drives away, Irene stands at the window of the flat and watches them go.)
In the car, Sherlock gets out the plane ticket again, then tells Plummer what he has deduced.
SHERLOCK There’s going to be a bomb on a passenger jet. The British and American governments know about it but rather than expose the source of that information they’re going to let it happen. The plane will blow up. Coventry all over again. The wheel turns. Nothing is ever new.
(Neither Plummer nor the driver respond to him in any way. Some time later the car arrives at Heathrow Airport and is driven past hangars to a 747 Jumbo Jet parked on the tarmac. The car stops near the plane and Sherlock gets out and walks over to the steps which lead up to the entry door. A familiar figure is standing at the bottom of the steps. It’s Neilson.) SHERLOCK (nonchalantly, in a deliberately fake American accent) Well, you’re looking all better. How you feeling?
NEILSON Like putting a bullet in your brain. ...sir.
(Sherlock lets out a quiet snigger and starts to walk up the steps.)
NEILSON They’d pin a medal on me if I did....
(Sherlock stops.)

NEILSON (insincerely) ...sir.
(Sherlock half-turns back towards him, then decides he can’t be bothered and continues up the steps. Inside, he pulls back the curtain obscuring the passenger seating and walks into the aisle. The lighting is very low and it’s hard to see. There are people sitting in almost all the seats but none of them is moving or speaking or showing any signs of life at all. Frowning, he walks forward and looks more closely at the nearest passengers. An overhead light shows more clearly the faces of two men sitting beside each other and Sherlock now realises the truth they are dead. Although they’re not yet showing any signs of decomposition, their skin is very grey and they’ve clearly been dead for some time. He turns and looks to the passengers on the other side of the aisle, turning on another overhead light to get a better view. The man and woman sitting there are also long dead. As he straightens up, realising that everyone on board the plane must be in the same condition, his brother speaks from the other end of the section.)
MYCROFT The Coventry conundrum.
(Sherlock turns as Mycroft pushes back the curtain and steps through into the cabin. For the first part of the ensuing conversation he talks softly, almost as if out of respect for the dead bodies in front of him.)
MYCROFT What do you think of my solution?
(Sherlock gazes around the cabin, still taking it all in.)
MYCROFT The flight of the dead.
SHERLOCK The plane blows up mid-air. Mission accomplished for the terrorists. Hundreds of casualties, but nobody dies.
MYCROFT Neat, don’t you think?
(Sherlock smiles humourlessly.)
MYCROFT You’ve been stumbling round the fringes of this one for ages – or were you too bored to notice the pattern?
(Sherlock flashes back in his mind to the two little girls sitting in his living room.)
LITTLE GIRL They wouldn’t let us see Granddad when he was dead.
(He lifts his head a little as he remembers the creepy guy sitting in the same chair on a different occasion, holding a funeral urn.)
CREEPY GUY She’s not my real aunt. I know human ash.
MYCROFT We ran a similar project with the Germans a while back, though I believe one of our passengers didn’t make the flight.
(Sherlock flashes back to the car with the body in the boot and the passport stamped in Berlin airport.)
MYCROFT But that’s the deceased for you – late, in every sense of the word. SHERLOCK How’s the plane going to fly? (He answers himself immediately.) Of course unmanned aircraft. Hardly new.
MYCROFT It doesn’t fly. It will never fly. This entire project is cancelled. The terrorist cells have been informed that we know about the bomb. We can’t fool them now. We’ve lost everything. One fragment of one email, and months and years of planning finished. SHERLOCK Your MOD man.
MYCROFT That’s all it takes one lonely naïve man desperate to show off, and a woman clever enough to make him feel special.
SHERLOCK (quirking an eyebrow) Hmm. You should screen your defence people more carefully.
MYCROFT (loudly, furiously) I’m not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock; I’m talking about you.
(Sherlock frowns, genuinely confused.)
MYCROFT (more softly) The damsel in distress. (He smiles ironically.) In the end, are you really so obvious? Because this was textbook the promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy

of redemption; then give him a puzzle...(his voice drops to a whisper)...and watch him dance.
SHERLOCK Don’t be absurd.
MYCROFT Absurd? How quickly did you decipher that email for her? Was it the full minute, or were you really eager to impress?

IRENE (from behind Sherlock) I think it was less than five seconds.
(Sherlock spins around to see her standing at the end of the cabin, dressed beautifully, fully made up and with her hair perfectly coiffured. This is The Woman at her immaculate best.)
MYCROFT (ruefully to Sherlock) I drove you into her path. (He pauses momentarily.) I’m sorry. (He lowers his eyes.) I didn’t know.
(Sherlock is still looking at Irene as she walks towards him.)
IRENE 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 (walking past him) Not you, Junior. You’re done now.
(She continues down the aisle towards Mycroft. Sherlock turns and watches her go as she activates her phone and holds it up to show his brother.)
IRENE There’s more...loads more. On this phone I’ve got secrets, pictures and scandals that could topple your whole world. You have no idea how much havoc I can cause and exactly one way to stop me – unless you want to tell your masters that your biggest security leak is your own little brother.
(Mycroft can no longer hold her gaze and turns his head away, lowering his eyes.)
Some time later Mycroft has brought Irene and Sherlock to his residence/office. The older brother sits at the dining table with Irene seated opposite him. Sherlock is in the armchair near the fireplace a few yards away, half turned away from the pair of them. The fingers on his right hand are repeatedly clenching as he listens to the other two speak. Mycroft points down at the camera phone which is lying on the table in front of him. There is no aggression or threat in his voice as he speaks.
MYCROFT We have people who can get into this.
IRENE I tested that theory for you. I let Sherlock Holmes try it for six months.
(Sherlock closes his eyes briefly in pain.)
IRENE Sherlock, dear, tell him what you found when you X-rayed my camera phone. SHERLOCK (flatly) There are four additional units wired inside the casing, I suspect containing acid or a small amount of explosive.
(Mycroft lowers his head into his hand in despair.)
SHERLOCK Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive.
IRENE Explosive. (She looks at Mycroft.) It’s more me.
MYCROFT (lifting his head and looking at her again) Some data is always recoverable. IRENE Take that risk?
MYCROFT You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you.
IRENE (calmly) Sherlock?
SHERLOCK There will be two passcodes one to open the phone, one to burn the drive. Even under duress you can’t know which one she’s given you and there will be no point in a second attempt.
IRENE He’s good, isn’t he? I should have him on a leash – in fact, I might.
(She gazes at Sherlock intensely but he remains turned away from her and can’t see her expression.)
MYCROFT We destroy this, then. No-one has the information.
IRENE Fine. Good idea...unless there are lives of British citizens depending on the information you’re about to burn.
MYCROFT Are there?

IRENE Telling you would be playing fair. I’m not playing any more.
(She reaches into her handbag on the table in front of her and takes out an envelope which she pushes across the table to him.)
IRENE A list of my requests; and some ideas about my protection once they’re granted. (Mycroft takes the sheet of paper from the envelope and starts to unfold it.)
IRENE I’d say it wouldn’t blow much of a hole in the wealth of the nation – but then I’d be lying.
(He raises his eyebrows in amazement as he reads through the demands she has listed.) IRENE I imagine you’d like to sleep on it.
MYCROFT (still reading) Thank you, yes.
IRENE Too bad.
(He looks up at her. In the armchair, Sherlock snorts in almost silent amusement.)
IRENE (to Mycroft) Off you pop and talk to people.
(Sighing, Mycroft sinks back in his chair.)
MYCROFT You’ve been very...thorough. I wish our lot were half as good as you.
IRENE I can’t take all the credit. Had a bit of help.
(She looks across to Sherlock.)
IRENE Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love.
(Sherlock raises his head.)
MYCROFT Yes, he’s been in touch. Seems desperate for my attention...(his voice becomes more ominous)...which I’m sure can be arranged.
(Unseen by the others, Sherlock’s gaze begins to sharpen as Irene stands up and walks round the table to sit on its edge nearer Mycroft.)
IRENE I had all this stuff, never knew what to do with it. Thank God for the consultant criminal. Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys. Do you know what he calls you? (Softly) The Ice Man...(she looks across to Sherlock)...and the Virgin. (Sherlock’s eyes are on the move, though it’s not yet clear whether in reaction to what Irene is saying or whether he’s working something out.)
IRENE Didn’t even ask for anything. I think he just likes to cause trouble. Now that’s my kind of man.
(Sherlock closes his eyes, sighing softly.)
MYCROFT And here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees.
(Sherlock’s eyes snap open again. He’s definitely working something out. Mycroft stands and appears to bow slightly to Irene.)
MYCROFT Nicely played.
(He turns away, about to go and begin meeting her demands. Smiling in satisfaction, she stands up, confident that she has won.)
SHERLOCK No.
(They both turn to him.)
IRENE Sorry?
(Sherlock turns his head towards them.)
SHERLOCK I said no. Very very close, but no.
(He stands and starts to walk towards her.)
SHERLOCK You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much.
IRENE No such thing as too much.
SHERLOCK (walking closer and looking down at her) 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.
(He bares his teeth slightly as he finishes the sentence.)
IRENE Sentiment? What are you talking about?
SHERLOCK You.

IRENE (smiling calmly) 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?
(He steps even closer to her, their bodies almost touching.)

SHERLOCK (softly) No.
(He reaches out and slowly wraps the fingers of his right hand around her left wrist, then leans forward and brings his mouth close to her right ear.)
SHERLOCK (in a whisper) Because I took your pulse.
(Flashback to Irene kneeling in front of him at the flat and putting her hand on top of his, then him turning his hand over and resting his fingertips on the underside of her wrist. In the present, Irene frowns in confusion as Sherlock tightens his grip a little around her wrist.)
SHERLOCK (softly into her ear) Elevated; your pupils dilated.
(Flashback to her gazing into his eyes as she knelt in front of him. In the present, he releases her hand and leans past her to pick up the camera phone from the table.) SHERLOCK (in a more normal voice) I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive.
(He turns and walks a few paces away from her. She follows behind him until he turns and faces her again.)
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...(he tosses the phone into the air and catches it again)...this is far more intimate.
(He pulls up the security lock with its “I AM ---- LOCKED” screen.)
SHERLOCK This is your heart....
(Without breaking his gaze into her eyes, he punches in the first of the four characters with his thumb.)
SHERLOCK ...and you should never let it rule your head.
(She stares at him, trying to stay calm but the panic is beginning to show behind her eyes.) SHERLOCK You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you’ve worked for...
(He punches in the second character, his eyes still locked on hers.)
SHERLOCK ...but you just couldn’t resist it, could you?
(Her breathing becomes heavier. Sherlock smiles briefly and triumphantly.)
SHERLOCK I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage....
(He hits the third character, still gazing at her.)
SHERLOCK Thank you for the final proof.
(Before he can type in the fourth character, she seizes his hand and gazes up at him intensely.)
IRENE (softly) Everything I said it’s not real. (In a whisper) I was just playing the game. SHERLOCK (in a whisper) I know.
(Gently pulling his hand free, he types in the final character.)
SHERLOCK And this is just losing.
(Slowly he turns the phone towards her and shows her the screen. She looks down at it, tears spilling from her eyes as she reads the sequence which says
I AM
SHER
LOCKED
She gazes down at the screen in despair for a few seconds, then Sherlock lifts the phone away and holds it out towards Mycroft even as the phone unlocks and presents its menu.) SHERLOCK (his eyes still fixed on Irene’s) 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 turns and begins to walk towards the door.)
SHERLOCK If you’re feeling kind, lock her up; otherwise let her go. I doubt she’ll survive long without her protection.
(Irene stares after him, her eyes wide with dread.)
IRENE Are you expecting me to beg?
SHERLOCK (flatly, calmly) Yes.
(He stops near the door, his face in profile to her. She stares at him in anguish for several seconds, then realises that she has no choice.)
IRENE Please.
(He doesn’t move.)
IRENE You’re right.
(Now he turns to look at her.)
IRENE (staring at him pleadingly) I won’t even last six months.
SHERLOCK Sorry about dinner.
(He turns and walks to the door, opening it and walking through. She watches him go, her eyes full of horror as the door closes behind him.)
BAKER STREET. It is pouring with rain. Outside Speedy’s café, Mycroft is standing under the protection of his umbrella, smoking a cigarette. He has a clear plastic wallet tucked under one arm and his briefcase is at his feet. John hurries towards home, hunched over and soaking wet because macho BAMFs like John Watson don’t take umbrellas with them. He sees Mycroft standing there and stops in surprise, then walks over to him.
JOHN You don’t smoke.
MYCROFT I also don’t frequent cafés.
(Dropping the cigarette on the ground and treading it out, he closes his umbrella, picks up his briefcase and turns and walks into Speedy’s. John follows him. Not long afterwards they are sitting opposite each other at one of the tables. John picks up his mug and looks at the plastic wallet which Mycroft has put on the table in front of himself. There is a sticker on the wallet saying “RESTRICTED ACCESS – CONFIDENTIAL”. The camera phone is inside the wallet on top of various documents.)
JOHN This the file on Irene Adler?
MYCROFT Closed forever. I am about to go and inform my brother – or, if you prefer, you are – that she somehow got herself into a witness protection scheme in America. New name, new identity. She will survive – and thrive – but he will never see her again.
JOHN Why would he care? He despised her at the end. Won’t even mention her by name – just “The Woman”.
MYCROFT Is that loathing, or a salute? One of a kind; the one woman who matters. JOHN He’s not like that. He doesn’t feel things that way...I don’t think.
MYCROFT My brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. What might we deduce about his heart?
JOHN I don’t know.
MYCROFT Neither do I...but initially he wanted to be a pirate.
(He smiles briefly at John, then his gaze becomes distant and reflective.)
JOHN He’ll be okay with this witness protection, never seeing her again. He’ll be fine. MYCROFT I agree. (He breathes in sharply.) That’s why I decided to tell him that.
JOHN Instead of what?
MYCROFT She’s dead. She was captured by a terrorist cell in Karachi two months ago and beheaded.
(John looks at him silently for several seconds, then quietly clears his throat.)
JOHN It’s definitely her? She’s done this before.
MYCROFT I was thorough – this time. It would take Sherlock Holmes to fool me, and I don’t think he was on hand, do you?
(They look at each other for a moment.)

MYCROFT So...(he pushes the wallet across the table towards John, then puts his elbows on the table, clasps his hands in front of him and rests his chin on them) ...what should we tell Sherlock?
221B. Sherlock is sitting at the kitchen table looking into his microscope. As footsteps can be heard coming up the stairs, he speaks before John even comes into view.

SHERLOCK Clearly you’ve got news.
(John stops in the doorway with the wallet in his hand. Sherlock doesn’t lift his head.) SHERLOCK If it’s about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener. Nobody noticed the earring.
JOHN Hi. Er, no, it’s, um...(he takes a couple of steps into the kitchen)...it’s about Irene Adler.
(Sherlock looks up, his face unreadable.)
SHERLOCK Oh? Something happened? Has she come back?
JOHN No, she’s, er.... I just bumped into Mycroft downstairs. He had to take a call. SHERLOCK (standing up and walking around the table towards John) Is she back in London?
JOHN No. She’s, er....
(He gazes at the table for a long moment, then drags in a sharp breath and raises his eyes to Sherlock’s as his flatmate steps closer, frowning.)
JOHN She’s in America.
SHERLOCK America?
JOHN Mmm-hmm. Got herself on a witness protection scheme, apparently. Dunno how she swung it, but, er, well, you know.
SHERLOCK I know what?
JOHN Well, you won’t be able to see her again.
SHERLOCK Why would I want to see her again?
JOHN (smiling ruefully as Sherlock turns away and walks back around the table) Didn’t say you did.
SHERLOCK Is that her file?
JOHN Yes. I was just gonna take it back to Mycroft.
(He offers the wallet to Sherlock.)
JOHN Do you want to...?
SHERLOCK (sitting down) No.
(He looks into his microscope again.)
JOHN Hmm.
(He looks at his friend for a long while, considering his options. Eventually he steps forward again.)
JOHN Listen, actually...
SHERLOCK Oh, but I will have the camera phone, though.
(He holds out his hand towards John, not lifting his gaze from his work.)
JOHN There’s nothing on it any more. It’s been stripped.
SHERLOCK I know, but I...
(He pauses for a long moment before continuing.)
SHERLOCK ...I’ll still have it.
JOHN I’ve gotta give this back to Mycroft. You can’t keep it.
(Sherlock keeps his hand extended and his eyes fixed on the microscope.)
JOHN Sherlock, I have to give this to Mycroft. It’s the government’s now. I couldn’t even give...
SHERLOCK Please.
(He extends his hand a little further. John looks at him, wondering what to do, then finally reaches into the wallet, takes out the phone and lays it gently into Sherlock’s hand.

Sherlock closes his fingers around it, draws his hand back and puts the phone into his trouser pocket before returning his hand to the microscope.)
SHERLOCK Thank you.
JOHN (raising the wallet) Well, I’d better take this back.

SHERLOCK Yes.
(John turns and walks out onto the landing, then pauses, wondering whether to ask the question that has now come into his mind. After several seconds he turns round and comes back into the kitchen. Sherlock still doesn’t lift his eyes from his microscope.)
JOHN Did she ever text you again, after...all that?
SHERLOCK Once, a few months ago.
JOHN What did she say?
SHERLOCK “Goodbye, Mr. Holmes.”
(John looks at him thoughtfully.)
JOHN (softly) Huh.
(He paces around in front of the kitchen door for a few seconds, wondering if there’s anything more he can say, then eventually turns and heads off down the stairs. As soon as he’s out of sight Sherlock raises his head and gazes across the room for a moment, then he reaches down to his own phone which is on the table and picks it up, calling up his saved messages. Walking into the living room, he scrolls through the messages sent by “The Woman”, all of which he has kept. They go on for a long time
I’m not hungry, let’s have dinner.
Bored in a hotel. Join me. Let’s have dinner.
John’s blog is HILARIOUS. I think he likes you more than I do. Let’s have dinner.
I can see tower bridge and the moon from my room. Work out where I am and join me.
I saw you in the street today. You didn’t see me.
You do know that hat actually suits you, don’t you?
Oh for God’s sake. Let’s have dinner.
I like your funny hat.
I’m in Egypt talking to an idiot. Get on a plane, let’s have dinner.
You looked sexy on Crimewatch.
Even you have got to eat. Let’s have dinner.
BBC1 right now. You’ll laugh.
I’m thinking of sending you a Christmas present.
Mantelpiece.
I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner.
Then comes the one reply he sent to her
Happy New Year
And at the bottom of the list is her last message to him
Goodbye Mr Holmes
Reaching the living room window, he looks down at the final message for a long time before lifting his eyes and gazing out at the pouring rain.)
Flashback to (presumably) two months earlier in Karachi. It is night time and there is background noise of male voices shouting in a foreign language. Shaky camera footage eventually resolves into clearer resolution, revealing Irene kneeling on the ground in front of a military vehicle. She is dressed in black robes, her hair covered by a black headscarf, and is typing one-handed onto her phone. Standing to her right is a man holding a rifle with one hand while he repeatedly gestures for her phone with the other. She ignores him, refusing to hand it over until she has finished her message, which reads
Goodbye Mr Holmes
(She presses Send and then gives the phone to the man. To her left, a second man walks over and raises a machete above her head, bringing it slowly down towards the back of

her neck as he checks that his aim will be correct. Irene stares ahead of herself, fighting her tears, then the screen fades to black as she slowly closes her eyes.)
A couple of seconds later, an orgasmic female sigh fills the air. Irene’s eyes snap open and fill with hope as she turns her head to look at her executioner. His face is completely shrouded apart from his eyes, but a very recognisable blue-grey gaze meets her own. SHERLOCK (quietly) When I say run, run!
(She turns her head to the front again as Sherlock pulls the machete back as if he’s about to strike the death blow, then he spins and begins to strike out at the nearby militia. Irene stares ahead of herself, her eyes wide with disbelief that she is going to live. Slowly she begins to smile.)
In London in the present, Sherlock smiles at the memory, then chuckles to himself as he takes Irene’s camera phone from his pocket. Tossing it into the air and catching it again, he looks at it for a couple of seconds.
SHERLOCK The Woman.
(Opening the top drawer of a nearby cabinet, he puts the phone into it and is about to withdraw his hand when he pauses, then puts his fingers onto the phone again and looks at it thoughtfully.)
SHERLOCK The Woman.
(He lifts his head and gazes out at the rainy city for a while, then turns and walks away.) 

에피소드 2 - 바스커빌의 개 The Hounds of Baskervillle

Sherlock S2 E2.pdf

Sherlock
The Hounds of Baskerville
- Season 2, episode 2
In woodland just before sunrise, seven year old Henry Knight is running through the trees panting heavily. He is repeatedly looking behind him and having flashbacks to the terrible scene he has recently witnessed where a man was being attacked by someone – or something. The man was screaming and crying out in terror, scrabbling at the ground as he tried to get away from his attacker, which was growling and snarling ferociously. Henry runs on, trying to get away from the horror. After some time, he has cleared the trees and is out on moorland. He runs up an incline just as an old woman comes over the top of the rise. She is walking her dog.
GRACE Oh, hello.
(Henry stops and looks at her, but his attention is mostly focused on her dog – some kind of spaniel which just stands there pretty much ignoring him.)
GRACE Are you all right?
(Still Henry stares at the dog, whose features are mostly obscured in shadow due to the sun rising behind it.)
GRACE What is it, dear? Are you lost?
(The dog pokes its nose towards him in a friendly way. Henry screams in utter terror.) Twenty years later, the young boy’s screams are echoing in adult Henry’s ears. He looks around blankly as if he doesn’t know where he is or how he got there, then his face fills with horror as he realises that he is standing in the middle of a deep hollow in the woods. He starts to stumble away.
OPENING CREDITS.
BAKER STREET. As the door to 221B slams closed on someone who has just gone inside, the camera pans across to show two nodding dogs in the window of Speedy’s café. Upstairs in the flat, the living room door bursts open and Sherlock charges in, stopping just inside the room and slamming the end of a long pole down onto the ground. Sitting in his chair, John looks round and his eyes widen at the sight of his flatmate, who is wearing black trousers and a white shirt and whose arms, chest and face are covered with blood – far too much blood for it to be his own – and who is holding a harpoon. He looks round to John, breathing heavily.
SHERLOCK Well, that was tedious.
JOHN You went on the Tube like that?!
SHERLOCK (irritated) None of the cabs would take me.
(He walks out of the room.)
Later he is back in the room having cleaned himself up and changed into a clean shirt and trousers with one of his blue dressing gowns over the top. He is still carrying the harpoon and is pacing rapidly between the door and the window, looking round repeatedly at John as he flicks through the newspapers.
SHERLOCK (impatiently) Nothing?
JOHN Military coup in Uganda.
SHERLOCK Hmm.
(John chuckles in amusement as he sees something in one of the papers.)
JOHN Another photo of you with the, er....
(He points to a photograph of Sherlock wearing the deerstalker hat. Sherlock makes a disgusted noise. John moves on to another newspaper.)
JOHN Oh, um, Cabinet reshuffle.
SHERLOCK (furious) Nothing of importance?
(He slams the end of the harpoon onto the ground and roars with rage.)
SHERLOCK Oh, God!
(He looks round at John intensely.)

SHERLOCK John, I need some. Get me some.
JOHN (calmly) No.
SHERLOCK (intensely) Get me some.
JOHN (more loudly) No. (He points sternly at him.) Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what.

(Irritated, Sherlock leans the harpoon against the table.)
JOHN Anyway, you’ve paid everyone off, remember? No-one within a two mile radius’ll sell you any.
SHERLOCK Stupid idea. Whose idea was that?
(John looks round at him and clears his throat pointedly. Sherlock looks towards the door.) SHERLOCK (shouting) Mrs Hudson!
(He starts hurling paperwork off the table as he searches desperately for what he needs.) JOHN Look, Sherlock, you’re doing really well. Don’t give up now.
SHERLOCK (frantically as he continues his search) Tell me where they are. Please. Tell me.
(As John remains silent, Sherlock straightens up and then turns his most appealing puppy- dog eyes on him, hesitating before he speaks and almost forming the word a couple of times before actually speaking it.)
SHERLOCK Please.
JOHN Can’t help, sorry.
SHERLOCK I’ll let you know next week’s lottery numbers.
(John chuckles.)
SHERLOCK (exasperated) Oh, it was worth a try.
(He looks around the room, then gets inspired and hurls himself to the floor in front of the fireplace. Unearthing a slipper from the pile of papers in front of the unlit fire, he holds it up and scrabbles about inside as Mrs Hudson arrives at the door and comes in.)
MRS HUDSON Ooh↗ooh↘!
SHERLOCK (rummaging about in the fireplace as he speaks almost sing-song) My secret supply what have you done with my secret supply?
MRS HUDSON Eh?
SHERLOCK Cigarettes! What have you done with them? Where are they?
MRS HUDSON You know you never let me touch your things!
(She looks around at the mess.)
MRS HUDSON Ooh, chance would be a fine thing.
SHERLOCK (standing up and facing her) I thought you weren’t my housekeeper.
MRS HUDSON I’m not.
(Making a frustrated noise, Sherlock stomps back over to the harpoon and picks it up again. Behind him, Mrs Hudson looks down at John who does the universal mime for offering someone a drink. She looks at Sherlock again.)
MRS HUDSON How about a nice cuppa, and perhaps you could put away your harpoon. SHERLOCK I need something stronger than tea. Seven per cent stronger.
(He glares out of the window, then turns back towards Mrs Hudson and aims the harpoon at her. She flinches.)
SHERLOCK You’ve been to see Mr. Chatterjee again.
MRS HUDSON Pardon?
SHERLOCK (pointing with the harpoon’s tip) Sandwich shop. That’s a new dress, but there’s flour on the sleeve. You wouldn’t dress like that for baking.
JOHN Sherlock....
SHERLOCK Thumbnail, tiny traces of foil. Been at the scratch cards again. We all know where that leads, don’t we?
(He sniffs deeply as he finally stops aiming the harpoon at her.)

SHERLOCK Mmm, Kasbah Nights. Pretty racy for first thing on a Monday morning, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve written a little blog on the identification of perfumes. It’s on the website – you should look it up.
MRS HUDSON (exasperated) Please.

SHERLOCK I wouldn’t pin your hopes on that cruise with Mr. Chatterjee. He’s got a wife in Doncaster (he adopts a south Yorkshire accent to say the town’s name) that nobody knows about.
JOHN (angrily) Sherlock!

SHERLOCK Well, nobody except me.
MRS HUDSON (upset) I don’t know what you’re talking about, I really don’t.
(She storms out of the flat, slamming the living room door closed as she goes. Sherlock leaps over the back of his chair from behind it, then perches on the seat, wrapping his arms around his knees like a petulant child. John slams his newspaper down.)
JOHN What the bloody hell was all that about?
SHERLOCK (rocking back and forth) You don’t understand.
JOHN (sternly) Go after her and apologise.
SHERLOCK (staring at him) Apologise?
JOHN Mmm-hmm.
SHERLOCK (sighing) Oh, John, I envy you so much.
(John hesitates, wondering whether to rise to the bait, but eventually asks.)
JOHN You envy me?
SHERLOCK Your mind it’s so placid, straightforward, barely used. Mine’s like an engine, racing out of control; a rocket tearing itself to pieces trapped on the launch pad. (Loudly, frantically) I need a case!
JOHN (equally loudly) You’ve just solved one! By harpooning a dead pig, apparently!
(With an exasperated noise, Sherlock jumps up in the air and then lands in the seated position on the chair.)
SHERLOCK That was this morning!
(He starts drumming the fingers of both hands on the arms of the chair while stomping his feet on the floor.)
SHERLOCK When’s the next one?
JOHN Nothing on the website?
(Sherlock gets up and walks over to the table, collects his laptop and hands it to John, who looks at the message on there while Sherlock stomps over the window and narrates part of it.)
SHERLOCK “Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I can’t find Bluebell anywhere. Please please please can you help?”
JOHN Bluebell?
SHERLOCK (irritated) A rabbit, John!
JOHN Oh!
SHERLOCK (sarcastically) Ah, but there’s more! Before Bluebell disappeared, it turned luminous....
(He adopts a little girl’s voice for the next three words.)
SHERLOCK “like↑ a↓ fair↗y↘” according to little Kirsty; then the next morning, Bluebell was★ gone! Hutch still locked, no sign of a forced entry....
(He stops and his expression becomes more intense.)
SHERLOCK Ah! What am I saying? This is brilliant! Phone Lestrade. Tell him there’s an escaped rabbit.
JOHN Are you serious?
SHERLOCK It’s this, or Cluedo.
JOHN Ah, no!

(He closes the laptop and gets up to put it back on the table.)
JOHN We are never playing that again!
SHERLOCK Why not?
JOHN Because it’s not actually possible for the victim to have done it, Sherlock, that’s why. SHERLOCK Well, it was the only possible solution.

JOHN (sitting down again) It’s not in the rules.
SHERLOCK (furiously) Then the rules are wrong!
(The doorbell rings. John holds up a finger thoughtfully as Sherlock looks towards the living room door.)
JOHN Single ring.
SHERLOCK Maximum pressure just under the half second.
JOHN and SHERLOCK (simultaneously) Client.
Not long afterwards, a recording of a documentary is playing on the TV. Sherlock has taken off the dressing gown and exchanged it for a jacket and is sitting in his chair. John has relocated to the dining table chair near Sherlock’s, and a man is sitting in John’s chair. The documentary footage shows scenes of Dartmoor. Sherlock instantly looks bored. PRESENTER (voiceover) Dartmoor. It’s always been a place of myth and legend, but is there something else lurking out here – something very real?
(Footage of “Keep Out” signs.)
PRESENTER (walking along a narrow road) Because Dartmoor’s also home to one of the government’s most secret of operations....
(Sherlock’s eyes flick repeatedly between the screen and the man in John’s chair as the footage shows a large sign saying
AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY
YOU ARE NOW ENTERING A RESTRICTED AREA
BASKERVILLE
By this time Sherlock’s eyes are permanently fixed on the newcomer – who we now see is Henry Knight – as he watches the documentary anxiously.)
PRESENTER (voiceover)...the chemical and biological weapons research centre which is said to be even more sensitive than Porton Down. Since the end of the Second World War, there’ve 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?
(The footage switches to an indoor scene where Henry is sitting in front of the camera talking to someone offscreen. A caption at the bottom of the screen shows him as “Henry Knight, Grimpen resident”.)
HENRY I was just a kid. It-it was on the moor.
(There’s a cutaway to a child’s drawing of a huge snarling dog with red eyes. The caption says, “Henry’s drawing (aged 9)”.)
HENRY It was dark, but I know what I saw. I know what killed my father.
(Sighing, Sherlock picks up the remote control and switches off the footage.)
SHERLOCK (to Henry) What did you see?
HENRY Oh. (He points to the television.) I..., 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 reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a paper napkin and wipes his nose on it.) JOHN In your own time.
SHERLOCK But quite quickly.
(Henry lowers the napkin.)
HENRY Do you know Dartmoor, Mr. Holmes?
SHERLOCK No.

HENRY It’s an amazing place. It’s like nowhere else. It’s sort of...bleak but beautiful. SHERLOCK Mmm, not interested. Moving on.
HENRY We used to go for walks, after my mum died, my dad and me. Every evening we’d go out onto the moor.

SHERLOCK Yes, good. Skipping to the night that your dad was violently killed. Where did that happen?
(John’s eyes raise skywards at Sherlock’s insensitive question.)
HENRY There’s a place – it’s... it’s a sort of local landmark called Dewer’s Hollow.

(He gazes at Sherlock who tilts his head at him as if to say, “And...?”) HENRY That’s an ancient name for the Devil.
SHERLOCK (quirking an eyebrow) So?
JOHN Did you see the Devil that night?

(His face haunted with memories, Henry looks across to him and nods.)
HENRY (in a whisper) Yes.
(Flashback to Henry’s father screaming as he is pulled off his feet by something while young Henry watches in horror nearby.)
HENRY (voiceover) It was huge. Coal-black fur, with red eyes.
(Henry’s father finally falls silent. The creature growls savagely and young Henry turns and begins to scramble away.)
HENRY (tearfully) It got him, tore at him, tore him apart.
(Sherlock watches him intensely.)
HENRY I can’t remember anything else. They found me the next morning, just wandering on the moor. My dad’s body was never found.
JOHN Hmm. (He looks across to Sherlock.) Red eyes, coal-black fur, enormous dog? Wolf?
SHERLOCK Or a genetic experiment.
(He looks away, biting back a smile.)
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 And, I assume, did wonders for Devon tourism.
JOHN (uncomfortably) Yeah....
(In an attempt to stop Sherlock’s continuing sarcasm, he leans forward to Henry. Sherlock rolls his eyes as he realises what John is doing.)
JOHN Henry, whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?
(Henry sits forward, staring at Sherlock.)
HENRY I’m not sure you can help me, Mr. Holmes, since you find it all so funny.
(He stands up and walks around the chair, heading towards the door.)
SHERLOCK Because of what happened last night.
JOHN Why, what happened last night?
(Henry turns back towards them.)
HENRY How...,how do you know?
SHERLOCK I didn’t know; I noticed.
(John shuffles on his chair with an “Oh dear lord, here we go” expression on his face.) SHERLOCK (quick-fire) You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning. You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl in the seat across the aisle fancied you. Although you were initially keen, you’ve now changed your mind. You are, however, extremely anxious to have your first cigarette of the day. Sit down, Mr. Knight, and do please smoke. I’d be delighted.

(Henry stares at him, then glances across to John who averts his gaze and sighs. Hesitantly, Henry walks back to the chair and sits down, fishing in his jacket pocket.) HENRY How on earth did you notice all that?!
JOHN It’s not important....

(But Sherlock’s already off.)
SHERLOCK (looking at two small round white pieces of paper stuck to Henry’s coat) Punched-out holes where your tickets been checked....
JOHN Not now, Sherlock.
SHERLOCK Oh please. I’ve been cooped up in here for ages.
JOHN You’re just showing off.
SHERLOCK Of course. I am a show-off. That’s what we do.
(He turns his attention back to Henry and the napkin that he’s still holding.)
SHERLOCK The train napkin that you used to mop up the spilled coffee the strength of the stain shows that you didn’t take milk. There are traces of ketchup on it and round your lips and on your sleeve. Cooked breakfast – or the nearest thing those trains can manage. Probably a sandwich.
(Henry half-sobs, over-awed.)
HENRY How did you know it was disappointing?
SHERLOCK Is there any other type of breakfast on a train? The girl – female handwriting’s quite distinctive. Wrote her phone number down on the napkin. I can tell from the angle she wrote at that she was sat across from you on the other side of the aisle. Later – after she got off, I imagine – you used the napkin to mop up your spilled coffee, accidentally smudging the numbers. You’ve been over the last four digits yourself with another pen, so you wanted to keep the number. Just now, though, you used the napkin to blow your nose. Maybe you’re not that into her after all. Then there’s the nicotine stains on your fingers..., your shaking fingers. I know the signs.
(His gaze becomes intense.)
SHERLOCK No chance to smoke one on the train; no time to roll one before you got a cab here.
(He glances at his watch.)
SHERLOCK It’s just after nine fifteen. You’re desperate. The first train from Exeter to London leaves at five forty-six a.m. You got the first one possible, so something important must have happened last night. Am I wrong?
(Henry stares at him in amazement, then draws in a shaky breath.)
HENRY No.
(Sherlock smiles smugly. John takes a drink from his mug to hide his “oh bugger it” look.) HENRY (awe-struck) You’re right. You’re completely, exactly right. Bloody hell, I heard you were quick.
SHERLOCK It’s my job.
(He leans forward in his seat and glares at Henry intensely.)
SHERLOCK Now shut up and smoke.
(John frowns towards him. As Henry takes out a roll-up and lights it, John consults the notes he’s taken so far.)
JOHN Um, Henry, your parents both died and you were, what, seven years old?
(Henry is concentrating on taking his first drag on his cigarette. As he exhales his first lungful, Sherlock stands up and steps closer to him.)
HENRY I know. That...my....
(He stops as Sherlock leans into the smoke drifting up from the cigarette and from Henry’s mouth and breathes in deeply. Having sucked up most of the smoke, he sits down again and breathes out, whining quietly in pleasure.)
JOHN (trying hard to ignore him) That must be a...quite a trauma. Have you ever thought that maybe you invented this story, this....

(Henry has exhaled another lungful of smoke and Sherlock dives in to noisily hoover up the smoke again. John pauses patiently until he sits down again.)
JOHN ...to account for it?
(Henry drags his eyes away from Sherlock.)

HENRY That’s what Doctor Mortimer says. JOHN Who?
SHERLOCK His therapist.
HENRY (almost simultaneously) My therapist. SHERLOCK Obviously.

HENRY Louise Mortimer. She’s the reason I came back to Dartmoor. She thinks I have to face my demons.
SHERLOCK And what happened when you went back to Dewer’s Hollow last night, Henry? You went there on the advice of your therapist and now you’re consulting a detective. What did you see that changed everything?

HENRY It’s a strange place, the Hollow.
(He flashes back in his mind to when he was standing in the Hollow the previous night.) HENRY Makes you feel so cold inside, so afraid.
SHERLOCK (rolling his eyes) Yes, if I wanted poetry, I’d read John’s emails to his girlfriends. Much funnier.
(John sighs hard in an attempt to release the tension that might make him kill his flatmate.) SHERLOCK (to Henry) What did you see?
HENRY Footprints – on the exact spot where I saw my father torn apart.
(Looking exasperated, Sherlock leans back in his seat.)
JOHN Man’s or a woman’s?
HENRY Neither. They were....
SHERLOCK (interrupting) Is that it? Nothing else. Footprints. Is that all?
HENRY Yes, but they were....
SHERLOCK (interrupting) No, sorry, Doctor Mortimer wins. Childhood trauma masked by an invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr. Knight. Thank you for smoking.
HENRY No, but what about the footprints?
SHERLOCK Oh, they’re probably paw prints; could be anything, therefore nothing.
(He leans forward in his seat and flicks his fingers at Henry, gesturing him towards the door.)
SHERLOCK Off to Devon with you; have a cream tea on me.
(Standing up and buttoning his jacket, he heads into the kitchen. Henry turns in his seat to look at him.)
HENRY Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!
(Sherlock stops dead in his tracks, then slowly turns and comes back to the kitchen doorway and stares down at Henry.)
SHERLOCK Say that again.
HENRY I found the footprints; they were....
SHERLOCK No, no, no, your exact words. Repeat your exact words from a moment ago, exactly as you said them.
(Henry thinks for a second, then slowly recites his words back to him.)
HENRY Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic...hound.
(Sherlock raises his head.)
SHERLOCK I’ll take the case.
JOHN (startled) Sorry, what?
(Sherlock adopts the prayer position in front of his mouth and begins to pace slowly across the living room.)
SHERLOCK Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It’s very promising.

JOHN No-no-no, sorry, what? A minute ago, footprints were boring; now they’re very promising?
SHERLOCK (stopping) It’s nothing to do with footprints. As ever, John, you weren’t listening. Baskerville ever heard of it?

JOHN Vaguely. It’s very hush-hush.
SHERLOCK Sounds like a good place to start.
HENRY Ah! You’ll come down, then?
SHERLOCK No, I can’t leave London at the moment. Far too busy. Don’t worry – putting my best man onto it.
(He walks over to John and pats his shoulder.)
SHERLOCK Always rely on John to send me the relevant data, as he never understands a word of it himself.
JOHN What are you talking about, you’re busy? You don’t have a case! A minute ago you were complaining....
SHERLOCK (interrupting) Bluebell, John! I’ve got Bluebell! The case of the vanishing, glow-in-the-dark rabbit! (He looks at Henry.) NATO’s in uproar.
HENRY Oh, sorry, no, you’re not coming, then?
(Putting on a regretful expression, Sherlock shakes his head sadly. John groans.)
JOHN Okay. (He stands up as Sherlock smiles smugly.) Okay.
(He walks over to the mantelpiece and picks up the skull, taking a packet of cigarettes from underneath it. Putting the skull down again, he turns and tosses the packet across to Sherlock, who catches it and instantly tosses it over his shoulder.)
SHERLOCK I don’t need those any more. I’m going to Dartmoor.
(He walks out of the living room.)
SHERLOCK You go on ahead, Henry. We’ll follow later.
HENRY (scrambling to his feet) Er, sorry, so you are coming?
(Sherlock turns and walks back into the room.)
SHERLOCK Twenty year old disappearance; a monstrous hound? I wouldn’t miss this for the world!
Later, John carries two large bags out onto the street, shuts the front door and walks over to Sherlock who is holding a taxi door open. Next door in Speedy’s, Mrs Hudson is shouting angrily at an unseen Mr. Chatterjee.
MRS HUDSON ...cruise together. You had no intention of taking me on it....
(She throws something at the closed door. As it bounces heavily off the glass, John recoils.)
JOHN Oh! Looks like Mrs Hudson finally got to the wife in Doncaster.
SHERLOCK Mmm. Wait ’til she finds out about the one in Islamabad.
(John sniggers and gets into the taxi. Sherlock follows him in.)
SHERLOCK (to the driver) Paddington Station, please.
DARTMOOR. After many shots of the beautiful scenery which your transcriber is delighted to sit back and watch while resting her aching fingers, we find our boys driving across the moors in a large black Land Rover jeep. Sherlock is driving...and if they’re not playing “Yellow Car” I shall be most disappointed. Some time later, away from the road, Sherlock is standing dramatically skylined on a large stone outcrop while John stands at the foot of it consulting a map. He points ahead of himself at a large array of buildings in the distance. JOHN There’s Baskerville.
(He turns and points behind them. Sherlock turns to look.)
JOHN That’s Grimpen Village.
(He turns and looks ahead of them again, checking the map for the name of the heavily wooded area to the left of the Baskerville complex.)
JOHN So that must be...yeah, it’s Dewer’s Hollow.
(Sherlock points to an area in between the complex and the Hollow.)

SHERLOCK What’s that?
JOHN Hmm?
(He has binoculars round his neck and now he lifts them and looks more closely at the fencing and the warning signs.)
JOHN Minefield? Technically Baskerville’s an army base, so I guess they’ve always been keen to keep people out.
SHERLOCK Clearly.
Later, they drive into Grimpen Village and pull into the car park of the Cross Keys inn. They get out and walk towards the entrance of the pub, where a young man who is apparently a tour guide is talking to a group of tourists.
FLETCHER ...three times a day, tell your friends. Tell anyone!
(The boys walk past the group and see that Fletcher is standing next to a large sign on which is painted a black image of a wolf-like creature with the words “BEWARE THE HOUND!!” above it.)
FLETCHER (to the tourists) Don’t be strangers, and remember...stay away from the moor at night if you value your lives!
(Sherlock has been pulling his overcoat around him as he walks towards the pub, and now he pops the collar. John looks round at him pointedly.)
SHERLOCK (trying and failing to look nonchalant) I’m cold.
(The tourist group walks away from Fletcher. Once their backs are turned he puts on a large shaggy wolf’s-head mask. Sherlock and John walk into the pub, which has a blackboard outside advertising “Boutique Rooms & Vegetarian Cuisine”. Fletcher runs over to a couple of the nearby tourists and roars. They flinch and the woman shrieks in surprise.)
Flashback to Henry Knight’s father being grabbed by something in Dewer’s Hollow, and young Henry’s horrified face. In the present, adult Henry flinches, his eyes closed as he sits half reclined on a comfortable armchair. The flashbacks continue to haunt him until he opens his eyes and sighs. A woman is sitting a short distance away with a notebook and pen on her lap.
HENRY That part doesn’t change.
MORTIMER What does?
(Henry runs his hands over his face.)
HENRY Oh, there’s something else. It-it’s a word.
(Sighing heavily in concentration, he closes his eyes again and sees the word as if it is stitched or knitted into some fabric.)
HENRY “Liberty.”
(He opens his eyes again.)
MORTIMER Liberty?
HENRY (closing his eyes again) There’s another word. (He concentrates and sees the next word in the stitching.) “In.” I-N. “Liberty In.” (He looks at his therapist.) What do you think it means?
(She shakes her head. He sighs in frustration.)
CROSS KEYS INN. As Sherlock prowls around the pub, John is at the bar checking in. The manager and barman, Gary, hands him some keys.
GARY Eh, sorry we couldn’t do a double room for you boys.
JOHN That’s fine. We-we’re not...
(He looks at the smug knowing smile on Gary’s face and gives up.)
JOHN (giving him some money for the drink he has just bought) There you go.
GARY Oh, T★A. I’ll just get your change.
JOHN T★A.

(As Gary goes to the till, John’s glance falls on a pile of receipts and invoices which have been punched onto a spike on the bar. He frowns as he sees that one is labelled “Undershaw Meat Supplies”. Quickly he reaches out and rips it from the spike, putting it into his pocket as Gary comes back with his change.)

GARY There you go.
JOHN I couldn’t help noticing on the map of the moor a skull and crossbones.
GARY Oh that, aye.
JOHN Pirates?!
GARY Eh, no, no. The Great Grimpen Minefield, they call it.
JOHN 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 really knows what’s there any more.
(Nearby, Sherlock is still prowling around and now seems to find something of interest at one of the tables.)
JOHN (to Gary) Explosives?
GARY Oh, not just explosives. Break into that place and – if you’re lucky – you just get blown up, so they say...in case you’re planning on a nice wee stroll.
(Sherlock loses interest in the table and wanders off again.)
JOHN T★A. I’ll remember.
GARY Aye. No, it buggers up tourism a bit, so thank God for the demon hound! (He chuckles.) Did you see that show, that documentary?
JOHN Quite recently, yeah.
GARY Aye. God bless Henry Knight and his monster from hell.
JOHN Ever seen it – the hound?
GARY Me? No.
(He points out the door past Sherlock, where Fletcher is just outside the pub and talking on his phone to someone.)
GARY Fletcher has. He runs the walks – the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He’s seen it.
JOHN That’s handy for trade.
(Gary turns to a man who is clearly the inn’s cook who has just arrived behind the bar. Meanwhile Sherlock turns and follows Fletcher as he walks away from the doorway.) GARY I’m just saying we’ve been rushed off our feet, Billy.
BILLY Yeah. Lots of monster-hunters. Doesn’t take much these days. One mention on Twitter and oomph.
(He looks at Gary.)
BILLY We’re out of WKD.
[Transcriber’s note WKD is a brand of alcopop aimed at the trendy young – and mostly male – drinkers’ market.]
GARY All right.
(He walks behind the bar again. Billy turns to John.)
BILLY What with the monster and that ruddy prison, I don’t know how we sleep nights. Do you, Gary?
(Gary stops and puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him affectionately.)
GARY Like a baby.
BILLY That’s not true. (He looks at John.) He’s a snorer.
GARY (embarrassed, trying to shut him up) Hey, wheesht!
BILLY (to John) Is yours a snorer?
JOHN ...Got any crisps?
Outside, Sherlock swipes a half-drunk pint of beer from a nearby empty table and walks over towards Fletcher, noticing as he does so that he has a copy of the Racing Post in his

trouser pocket. Fletcher has gone over to another of the tables and is just finishing his phone call.
FLETCHER Yeah...No. All right? Right. Take care. Bye.
SHERLOCK Mind if I join you?

(Shrugging, Fletcher shrugs and gestures to the table. Sherlock puts his pint down and sits on the bench on the other side of the table.)
SHERLOCK It’s not true, is it? You haven’t actually seen this...hound thing. (He grins in a friendly way.)

FLETCHER (looking at him suspiciously) You from the papers? SHERLOCK No, nothing like that. Just curious. Have you seen it? FLETCHER Maybe.
SHERLOCK Got any proof?

FLETCHER Why would I tell you if I did? ’Scuse me.
(He stands up to leave just as John comes over with his own drink.)
JOHN I called Henry...
SHERLOCK (talking over him) Bet’s off, John, sorry.
JOHN (sitting down) What?
FLETCHER Bet?
SHERLOCK (looking at his watch) My plan needs darkness. (He looks up at the sky.) Reckon we’ve got another half an hour of light...
FLETCHER Wait, wait. What bet?
SHERLOCK Oh, I bet John here fifty quid that you couldn’t prove you’d seen the hound. JOHN (catching on immediately and looking at Fletcher) Yeah, the guys in the pub said you could.
(Fletcher smiles and points to Sherlock.)
FLETCHER Well, you’re gonna lose your money, mate.
SHERLOCK Yeah?
FLETCHER Yeah. I’ve seen it. Only about a month ago, up at the Hollow. It was foggy, mind – couldn’t make much out.
SHERLOCK I see. No witnesses, I suppose.
FLETCHER No, but...
SHERLOCK Never are.
FLETCHER Wait...
(He shows Sherlock a photograph on his smart phone.)
FLETCHER There.
(Sherlock looks at the photograph which shows a dark-furred four-legged something in the distance but, with no scale amongst the surrounding vegetation, it’s impossible to tell the size – or even the species – of the animal. He snorts.)
SHERLOCK Is that it? It’s not exactly proof, is it?
(Fletcher shows the photo to John.)
SHERLOCK Sorry, John. I win.
(He picks up the stolen drink and makes as if to drink from it, although he never does.) FLETCHER Wait, wait. That’s not all. People don’t like going up there, you know – to the Hollow. Gives them a...bad sort of feeling.
SHERLOCK Ooh! Is it haunted?(!) Is that supposed to convince me?
(He puts the pint glass down again.)
FLETCHER Nah, don’t be stupid, nothing like that, but I reckon there is something out there – something from Baskerville, escaped.
SHERLOCK (not really trying to hold back his sceptical snigger) A clone, a super-dog?(!) FLETCHER Maybe. God knows what they’ve been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn’t trust ’em as far as I could spit.
SHERLOCK (nodding to the phone photograph) Is that the best you’ve got?

(Fletcher hesitates for a long moment, uncertain whether to continue, but eventually he speaks reluctantly, lowering his voice.)
FLETCHER I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishin’ but he never showed up – well, not ’til late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. I can see him now. “I’ve seen things today, Fletch,” he said, “that I never wanna see again. Terrible things.” He’d been sent to some secret Army place – Porton Down, maybe, maybe Baskerville, or somewhere else.

(He leans closer.)
FLETCHER In the labs there – the really secret labs, he said he’d seen...terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said, and dogs...
(He reaches into his bag and pulls something out, showing it to the boys.)
FLETCHER ...dogs the size of horses.
(He is holding a concrete cast of a dog’s paw print – but the print is at least six inches long from the tip of the claws to the back of the pad. Sherlock stares at it in surprise. John immediately pounces.)
JOHN Er, we did say fifty?
(As Fletcher smiles triumphantly, Sherlock gets out his wallet and hands John a fifty pound note.)
JOHN T★A.
(Sulkily, Sherlock gets up and walks away. John finishes his drink and follows him.)
Later, Sherlock and John take the car to Baskerville, Sherlock still driving. As they approach the complex, he observes that there are very many military personnel guarding the place, walking the perimeter etc. He drives up to the gates and a military security guard holding a rifle raises a hand. As Sherlock stops the jeep, the man walks around to the driver’s window.
SECURITY GUARD Pass, please.
(Sherlock reaches into his coat pocket and hands him a pass.)
SECURITY GUARD Thank you.
(He walks away with the pass. At the front of the vehicle, another security man encourages a sniffer dog to check the jeep, presumably for explosives.)
JOHN (quietly) You’ve got ID for Baskerville. How?
SHERLOCK (quietly) It’s not specific to this place. It’s my brother’s. Access all areas. I, um...(he clears his throat)...acquired it ages ago, just in case.
(The security guard swipes Sherlock’s pass through a reader at the gate room. The screen shows a fairly small photograph of Mycroft and names the card holder as Mycroft Holmes, giving him Unlimited Access and showing his security status as ‘Secure (No Threat)’.) JOHN Brilliant!
SHERLOCK What’s the matter?
JOHN We’ll get caught.
SHERLOCK No we won’t – well, not just yet.
JOHN Caught in five minutes. “Oh, hi, we just thought we’d come and have a wander round your top secret weapons base.” “Really? Great! Come in – kettle’s just boiled.” That’s if we don’t get shot.
(The gates begin to slide open as the security guard comes back over to the car.) SECURITY DOG HANDLER Clear.
SECURITY GUARD (handing Sherlock his pass) Thank you very much, sir.
SHERLOCK Thank you.
(He puts the car in gear and eases the vehicle forward.)
SECURITY GUARD Straight through, sir.
JOHN Mycroft’s name literally opens doors!

SHERLOCK I’ve told you – he practically is the British government. I reckon we’ve got about twenty minutes before they realise something’s wrong.
Sherlock drives up to the main complex at Baskerville, parks the car and he and John get out. Another soldier leads them through barriers and towards an entrance to the main building. As they walk, Sherlock looks around at all the military men patrolling the area, many of them armed. Even the scientists in lab coats are being escorted. As they approach the entrance, a military jeep pulls up and a young corporal gets out.

LYONS What is it? Are we in trouble?
SHERLOCK (sternly) “Are we in trouble, sir.”
LYONS Yes, sir, sorry, sir.
(Nevertheless, he steps in front of them and holds out his hands to prevent them getting nearer to the entrance.)
SHERLOCK You were expecting us?
LYONS Your ID showed up straight away, Mr. Holmes. Corporal Lyons, security. Is there something wrong, sir?
SHERLOCK Well, I hope not, Corporal, I hope not.
LYONS It’s just we don’t get inspected here, you see, sir. It just doesn’t happen.
JOHN Ever heard of a spot check?
(He takes a small wallet from his pocket and shows the ID inside to the corporal.)
JOHN Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.
(Even before he finishes speaking, the corporal comes to attention and salutes. John crisply returns the salute. Fangirls faint.)
LYONS Sir. Major Barrymore won’t be pleased, sir. He’ll want to see you both.
JOHN I’m afraid we won’t have time for that. We’ll need the full tour right away. Carry on. (The corporal hesitates.)
JOHN (instantly) That’s an order, Corporal.
LYONS Yes, sir.
(He spins around and walks towards the entrance. Sherlock glances across to John with a proud smile on his face as they follow. At the entrance, which is marked “AUTOMATIC SECURITY DOOR”, Lyons swipes his pass through a reader, then waits for Sherlock to walk over and do the same with his own pass. The message “ACCESS GRANTED” appears on the reader. Lyons then presses a button and the locks on the door disengage. Sherlock checks his watch.)
(Elsewhere, probably a long way from Baskerville, a message flashes up on a screen CCV1 • security authorization requested •
holmes, mycroft • priority ultra
processing CCV1 •
5555*0000*x1 //5894
The security request begins to process. At Baskerville, the door swings open and Lyons leads the other two inside, taking off his beret as he goes. As he leads them towards the next security door, the boys talk quietly.)
SHERLOCK Nice touch.
JOHN Haven’t pulled rank in ages.
SHERLOCK Enjoy it?
JOHN Oh yeah.
(Reaching the door, Lyons swipes his pass and then steps aside for Sherlock to do likewise. As he does so and another “ACCESS GRANTED” message appears, the authorisation request is sent out again. The doors slide opens and reveal an elevator on the other side. Lyons leads them inside and Sherlock looks at the wall panel. The lift, now on the ground floor, only goes downwards to five floors marked -1, -2, -3, -4 and B. Lyons presses the -1 button and the doors close, opening shortly afterwards on the next floor down. Lyons leads them out into a brightly lit and white tiled laboratory. As they walk

forward, various scientific staff dressed either in white coveralls including full breathing masks, or lab coats and face masks walk around the lab. There are large cages to the right of the elevator and as Lyons leads the way past them, a monkey screams and hurls itself at the bars towards them. Sherlock spins on his heel as he passes the cage, looking at the monkey and the chain around its neck.)

SHERLOCK How many animals do you keep down here?
LYONS Lots, sir.
(At the far end of the lab, a scientist wearing coveralls and a breathing mask comes out of another room and takes his mask off. Another scientist walks across the lab with a beagle on a lead.)
SHERLOCK Any ever escape?
LYONS They’d have to know how to use that lift, sir. We’re not breeding them that clever. SHERLOCK Unless they have help.
(The man who just took his mask off comes over to the group.)
FRANKLAND Ah, and you are?
LYONS Sorry, Doctor Frankland. I’m just showing these gentlemen around.
FRANKLAND (smiling at them) Ah, new faces, huh? Nice. Careful you don’t get stuck here, though. I only came to fix a tap!
(John chuckles politely as Frankland walks towards the lift. John turns to Lyons.)
JOHN How far down does that lift go?
LYONS Quite a way, sir.
JOHN Mmm-hmm. And what’s down there?
LYONS Well, we have to keep the bins somewhere, sir. This way please, gentlemen. (Sherlock is watching Frankland as he reaches the elevator. Frankland in turn looks around to gaze with interest at the new arrivals. As Lyons leads John away, Sherlock walks backwards for a couple of paces before turning to follow.)
JOHN So what exactly is it that you do here?
LYONS I thought you’d know, sir, this being an inspection.
(Sherlock is looking at the various scientists around the room, a couple looking at a rat in a glass cage, another one doing something to the leg of a monkey on a leash which is sitting on a metal table. Nearby, another scientist picks up what looks ominously like a glass container of serum.)
JOHN Well, I’m not an expert, am I?
LYONS Everything from stem cell research to trying to cure the common cold, sir.
JOHN But mostly weaponry?
LYONS Of one sort or another, yes.
(He swipes his card through the reader of the door at the end of the lab, then steps aside for Sherlock to do likewise.)
JOHN Biological, chemical...?
LYONS One war ends, another begins, sir. New enemies to fight. We have to be prepared. (As the door releases, Sherlock checks his watch as the security authorisation message goes out again, the message changing slightly
CCV1 • security authorization //5894
• query • query • query
CCV1 • 5555*0000*x1
Lyons leads them through the doors and into another lab where a monkey stands up on its back legs with one hand high in the air and shrieks before sitting down again on a high metal table. A female scientist looks at it and then turns to her colleague.)
STAPLETON Okay, Michael, let’s try Harlow Three next time.
(As she walks away from the table, Lyons approaches her.)
LYONS Doctor Stapleton.
SHERLOCK (thoughtfully) Stapleton.

STAPLETON Yes? (She looks at Sherlock and John.) Who’s this?
LYONS Priority Ultra, ma’am. Orders from on high. An inspection.
STAPLETON Really?
SHERLOCK We’re to be accorded every courtesy, Doctor Stapleton. What’s your role at Baskerville?

(Stapleton looks at him and snorts with disbelieving laughter.)
JOHN Er, accorded every courtesy, isn’t that the idea?
STAPLETON I’m not free to say. Official secrets.
SHERLOCK (smiling at her) Oh, you most certainly are free...(his smile fades and his voice becomes ominous)...and I suggest you remain that way.

(She looks at him for a moment.)
STAPLETON I have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. I like to mix things up – genes, mostly; now and again actual fingers.
(Sherlock has had a lightbulb moment when she said the words ‘genes’ and is reaching into his pocket before she finishes the sentence.)
SHERLOCK Stapleton. I knew I knew your name.
STAPLETON I doubt it.
SHERLOCK People say there’s no such thing as coincidence. What dull lives they must lead.
(He holds up his notebook to her on which he has written a single large word “BLUEBELL”. She stares at it in amazement as Sherlock watches her face closely.)
STAPLETON Have you been talking to my daughter?
SHERLOCK (putting his notebook away) Why did Bluebell have to die, Doctor Stapleton? JOHN (bewildered) The rabbit?
SHERLOCK (to Stapleton, as she stares at him blankly) Disappeared from inside a locked hutch, which was always suggestive.
JOHN The rabbit?
SHERLOCK Clearly an inside job.
STAPLETON Oh, you reckon?
SHERLOCK Why? Because it glowed in the dark.
STAPLETON I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Who are you?
(Even as she speaks Sherlock has been keeping a mental note of the time and now checks his watch again. Out in the security system somewhere, the authorisation request changes
CCV1 • security authorization
•• alert •• alert ••
potential level 5 security breach
5555*0000*x1 //5894
Someone looking at the screen picks up the phone and lifts the handset to their ear. At Baskerville, Sherlock lowers his hand and turns to Lyons.)
SHERLOCK Well, I think we’ve seen enough for now, Corporal. Thank you so much. LYONS (surprised) That’s it?
SHERLOCK That’s it. (He turns and heads briskly back towards the door, John following behind and Lyons trailing after them.) It’s this way, isn’t it?
STAPLETON (calling after them) Just a minute!
(John catches up to his friend and speaks quietly so that Lyons can’t overhear him. His tone suggests that he is not best pleased.)
JOHN Did we just break into a military base to investigate a rabbit?
(Sherlock reaches the door and swipes his card, then waits for Lyons to catch up to them and do the same with his own card. In Whitehall or somewhere similar, telephones begin to ring as a chain of calls relays the potential security breach and the message goes out
• URGENT • URGENT • URGENT •

refer holmes, mycroft
Sitting in what can surely only be the Diogenes Club with a cup of coffee on the table beside him, Mycroft takes out his phone as it trills quietly. Looking at the message, he rolls his eyes in exasperation, gazes off into space with a “Good God – what now?!” look on his face for a moment and then begins to text.)
(At Baskerville, Sherlock walks swiftly through the security doors and heads for the lift as his phone trills a text alert. He takes out his phone without stopping and reads the message
What are you
doing?
M
He laughs sarcastically.)
SHERLOCK Twenty-three minutes. Mycroft’s getting slow.
(Reaching the lift doors, he swipes his card and Lyons does likewise. The doors open revealing Doctor Frankland standing inside as if he has been waiting there for them ever since they met. He smiles at them.)
FRANKLAND Hello...again.
(Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Sherlock walks into the lift with the others. Very shortly afterwards, one floor up, the doors open again and reveal a bearded man in military uniform waiting for them. He does not look happy.)
LYONS Er, um, Major...
BARRYMORE This is bloody outrageous. Why wasn’t I told?
JOHN Major Barrymore, is it? (He steps out of the lift towards him.) Yes, well, good. Very good. (He offers him his hand to shake.) We’re very impressed, aren’t we, Mr. Holmes? (Barrymore refuses to take John’s hand. Sherlock’s phone sounds another text alert and he reaches into his pocket for it again.)
SHERLOCK Deeply; hugely.
(He walks past Barrymore as he looks at his text message which reads
What’s going on
Sherlock?
M
The major follows along behind the boys as Sherlock hurries towards the exit door.) BARRYMORE The whole point of Baskerville was to eliminate this kind of bureaucratic nonsense...
SHERLOCK I’m so sorry, Major.
BARRYMORE Inspections?!
SHERLOCK New policy. Can’t remain unmonitored forever. Goodness knows what you’d get up to. (Urgently and quietly to John) Keep walking.
(Lyons has briefly ducked into a side room but now hurries out again.)
LYONS Sir!
(He slaps an alarm button on the wall. Alarms start to blare, red lights flash and the automated security door locks itself. The others turn back to him.)
LYONS ID unauthorised, sir.
BARRYMORE What?
LYONS I’ve just had the call.
BARRYMORE Is that right?
(He turns to Sherlock and John.)
BARRYMORE Who are you?
JOHN Look, there’s obviously been some kind of mistake.
(A little further back, Frankland is slowly walking towards the group, looking thoughtful. Barrymore holds out his hand for Sherlock’s ID card, which he gives to him. He looks at the card and then up at Sherlock.)

BARRYMORE Clearly not Mycroft Holmes.
JOHN (getting out a notebook and starting to write) Computer error, Major. It’ll all have to go in the report.
BARRYMORE What the hell’s going on?!
FRANKLAND It’s all right, Major. I know exactly who these gentlemen are.
BARRYMORE You do?
FRANKLAND Yeah. I’m getting a little slow on faces but Mr. Holmes here isn’t someone I expected to show up in this place.
SHERLOCK Ah, well...
FRANKLAND (offering him his hand to shake) Good to see you again, Mycroft.
(John tries to mask his surprise. Smiling falsely, Sherlock shakes Frankland’s hand.) FRANKLAND I had the honour of meeting Mr. Holmes at the W.H.O. conference in...(he pretends to think)...Brussels, was it?
SHERLOCK Vienna.
FRANKLAND Vienna, that’s it.
(He looks at Barrymore.)
FRANKLAND This is Mr. Mycroft Holmes, Major. There’s obviously been a mistake. (Barrymore turns and nods to Lyons, who goes back to the alarm switch and turns it off. The lights stop flashing and the alarm falls silent. A moment later the entrance door’s lock disengages noisily.)
BARRYMORE (turning back to Frankland) On your head be it, Doctor Frankland. FRANKLAND (laughing as he looks at the approaching Corporal Lyons) I’ll show them out, Corporal.
LYONS Very well, sir.
(Sherlock spins on his heel and walks towards the now open entrance door. John and Frankland follow him while Barrymore glares after them unhappily. The boys go outside, John grimacing anxiously with an “Oh gods, I really hope we’re going to get away with this!” expression on his face. Frankland trots after them.)
SHERLOCK Thank you.
FRANKLAND This is about Henry Knight, isn’t it?
(They don’t answer him but he takes their silence as agreement.)
FRANKLAND I thought so. I knew he wanted help but I didn’t realise he was going to contact Sherlock Holmes!
(Sherlock grimaces.)
FRANKLAND Oh, don’t worry. I know who you really are. I’m never off your website. Thought you’d be wearing the hat, though.
SHERLOCK That wasn’t my hat.
FRANKLAND (to John) I hardly recognise him without the hat!
(John tries unsuccessfully to bite back a smile.)
SHERLOCK (tetchily, sounding the ‘t’s loudly) It wasn’t my hat.
FRANKLAND I love the blog too, Doctor Watson.
JOHN Oh, cheers!
FRANKLAND The, er, the Pink thing...
JOHN Mmm-hmm.
FRANKLAND ...and that one about the aluminium crutch!
JOHN Yes.
SHERLOCK (stopping and turning back to Frankland) You know Henry Knight? FRANKLAND Well, I knew his dad better. He had all sorts of mad theories about this place. Still, he was a good friend.
(He looks back the way they came and sees that Major Barrymore is standing some distance away and watching them. He turns back to Sherlock.)
FRANKLAND Listen, I can’t really talk now.

(He takes a card from his coat pocket and hands it over.)
FRANKLAND Here’s my, er, cell number. If I could help with Henry, give me a call. SHERLOCK I never did ask, Doctor Frankland. What exactly is it that you do here? FRANKLAND Oh, Mr. Holmes, I would love to tell you – but then, of course, I’d have to kill you!
(He laughs cheerfully.)
SHERLOCK (straight faced) That would be tremendously ambitious of you.
(Frankland’s smile fades and he shrugs in embarrassment.)
SHERLOCK Tell me about Doctor Stapleton.
FRANKLAND Never speak ill of a colleague.
SHERLOCK Yet you’d speak well of one, which you’re clearly omitting to do.
FRANKLAND I do seem to be, don’t I? (He shrugs.)
SHERLOCK (raising the card that Frankland just gave him) I’ll be in touch.
FRANKLAND Any time.
(The boys walk away from him and head towards their Land Rover.)
JOHN So?
SHERLOCK So?
JOHN What was all that about the rabbit?
(Smiling briefly, Sherlock pulls his coat tighter around him, flipping the collar up just as they reach the car. John rolls his eyes and turns to him.)
JOHN Oh, please, can we not do this, this time?
SHERLOCK Do what?
JOHN You being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool.
(As he turns to go to the car door, Sherlock opens his mouth to speak but is apparently so disconcerted that for a moment he can’t find the words.)
SHERLOCK ...I don’t do that.
JOHN Yeah you do.
(They get into the car.)
Later, Sherlock is driving them across the moors.
JOHN So, the email from Kirsty – the, er, missing luminous rabbit.
SHERLOCK Kirsty Stapleton, whose mother specialises in genetic manipulation.
JOHN She made her daughter’s rabbit glow in the dark.
SHERLOCK Probably a fluorescent gene removed and spliced into the specimen. Simple enough these days.
JOHN So...
(He looks across to Sherlock and waits for him to continue the sentence.)
SHERLOCK So we know that Doctor Stapleton performs secret genetic experiments on animals. The question is has she been working on something deadlier than a rabbit? JOHN To be fair, that is quite a wide field.
(Sherlock looks round at John in startled surprise as he realises that that’s true.)
HENRY KNIGHT’S HOUSE. His home is enormous – a four-storey stone building that was probably a very important property in the area in the past. A large old-fashioned glass conservatory is attached to the rear of the building on the ground floor (and your transcriber looks round to her LJ friends who read her fic and whispers softly, “world’s smallest jungle...” knowingly) and a modern two-storey glass extension has been built onto the side of the house to join it to another two-storey stone building nearby. Sherlock and John go into the conservatory, which looks very run-down and clearly hasn’t had a paint job in years, and walk across to the door on the opposite side. Sherlock rings the doorbell and Henry opens the door.
HENRY Hi.
JOHN Hi.

HENRY Come in, come in.
(Wiping his feet on the doormat, Sherlock walks in and heads down the hallway. John follows more slowly, stopping to look into a large high-ceilinged sitting room before following Henry again.)
JOHN This is, uh...are you, um...
(He searches for the right word for a moment before finding it.)
JOHN ...rich?
HENRY Yeah.
JOHN Right.
(Henry leads off again. Sherlock throws a dark look at John before following him.)
Not long afterwards, in the kitchen in the glass extension, Sherlock puts two sugar lumps into his mug and stirs them in. He is sitting on a stool at the central island and John is sitting next to him. Henry is standing on the other side of the island gazing down at the work surface.
HENRY It’s-it’s a couple of words. It’s what I keep seeing. “Liberty”...
JOHN (reaching into his pocket for his notebook) Liberty.
HENRY (looking up to him) “Liberty” and...“in”. It’s just that.
(He picks up the bottle of milk that’s on the island.)
HENRY Are you finished?
JOHN Mmm.
(Henry turns around to put the milk into the fridge. John looks at Sherlock.)
JOHN Mean anything to you?
SHERLOCK (softly) “Liberty in death” – isn’t that the expression? The only true freedom. (John nods in agreement as Henry turns back around, sighing. Sherlock takes a drink from his mug.)
HENRY What now, then?
JOHN Sherlock’s got a plan.
SHERLOCK Yes.
HENRY Right.
SHERLOCK We take you back out onto the moor...
HENRY (nervously) Okay...
SHERLOCK ...and see if anything attacks you.
JOHN What?!
SHERLOCK That should bring things to a head.
HENRY At night? You want me to go out there at night?
SHERLOCK Mmm.
JOHN That’s your plan? (He snorts laughter.) Brilliant!
SHERLOCK Got any better ideas?
JOHN That’s not a plan.
SHERLOCK Listen, if there is a monster out there, John, there’s only one thing to do find out where it lives.
(He looks round to Henry and smiles widely at him before taking another drink from his mug. Henry does not look encouraged by this.)
DUSK. THE MOORS. As night begins to fall, Henry leads Sherlock and John across the rocks towards Dewer’s Hollow. All three of them have flashlights to light the uneven ground below their feet. Foxes scream repeatedly in the distance. By the time they reach the woods it is almost full dark and it becomes even darker as they head into the trees. John, bringing up the rear, hears rustling to his right and turns around to look. The other two don’t notice and continue onwards as John walks cautiously towards the sound he heard. He shines his torch into the bushes as an owl shrieks overhead, but he can see nothing. Raising his head he sees a light repeatedly winking on and off at the top of a hillside a fair distance away. He looks around to alert his friend.

JOHN Sher...
(It’s only then that he realises that the other two have disappeared out of sight. He shines his flashlight in the direction they went but there’s no sign of them. He looks back to the light on the hillside, which is still intermittently flashing, and gets his notebook out of his pocket because he has instantly recognised that the flashes are Morse code. He starts to write down the letters while speaking them aloud.)
JOHN (softly) U...M...Q...R...A.
(The light stops flashing. John looks down at his notebook.)
JOHN (in a whisper) U, M, Q, R, A. (He tries it as a word.) Umqra?
(Shaking his head, he looks up to the hillside again but no more light comes from it. Shutting the notebook, he heads off in the direction of the other two.)
JOHN (whispering) Sherlock...!
(Henry and Sherlock are a long way ahead and Henry’s torch shows that they’re at the edge of the minefield with its fencing and warning signs. They make their way along the edge of the fencing as John trails a long way behind them, still whispering his friend’s name repeatedly.)
JOHN Sherlock...,Sherlock...!
(Up ahead, Sherlock breaks the silence.)
SHERLOCK Met a friend of yours.
HENRY What?
SHERLOCK Doctor Frankland.
HENRY Oh, right. Bob, yeah.
SHERLOCK Seems pretty concerned about you.
HENRY He’s a worrier, bless him. He’s been very kind to me since I came back. SHERLOCK 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...
(Glancing back at Sherlock, he decides not to follow that line.)
HENRY They agreed never to talk about work, Uncle Bob and my dad.
(He stops and turns to his left. As Sherlock stops and looks at him, Henry nods in the direction he’s looking.)
HENRY (unhappily) Dewer’s Hollow.
(Sherlock turns and looks at the steep drop in the land that leads down into a misty dark valley.)
(Some distance behind them, John is still following their trail.)
JOHN (whispering) Sherlock...!
(As he progresses onwards, he hears an eerie metallic thrumming sound. He stops and aims his flashlight in the direction of the sound, then goes to move onwards just as the thrum sounds again. The sound continues to repeat, now interspersed with a short metallic ping. John walks slowly towards the sound, then quietly chuckles as he sees a rusty metal container, possibly an oil drum, which is lying in the undergrowth. Water is dripping from the tree above it and causing the thrums and pings as it strikes the drum. As John looks at it and sighs with relief, something massive flashes past behind him. John spins and looks but it’s already gone, but a couple of seconds later an anguished howl sounds in the distance. John turns and begins to hurry to find the others.)
(Sherlock is heading down into the Hollow, being careful to keep his balance on the steep slippery ground. Henry follows him down more slowly. Sherlock reaches the bottom and shines his torch around, finding giant paw prints all around the ground. Some distance away, John is now running to get to the others. Another long anguished howl rings out. Still

halfway down the slope, Henry pauses. Sherlock shines his torch up in the direction of the sound...and his face begins to fill with horror at the sight that greets him. Unfortunately for the viewers, we can’t see what he is looking at, but whatever it is growls savagely from the top of the Hollow. As the beam from Sherlock’s flashlight flails along the Hollow’s rim, the whatever-it-is has already retreated. Sherlock recoils, his face confused and bewildered as he tries to take in what he just saw. From his position some distance away, Henry hurries down to join him.)

HENRY Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Did you see it?
(Sherlock lowers his head, still unable to get his mind to accept the evidence of his eyes. He stares around, shaking his head, then shoves Henry out of his way and hurries back up the hillside. Henry follows him.)

(Very shortly afterwards, John finally meets up with the other two making their way back.) JOHN (referring to the howling) Did you hear that?
(Sherlock storms straight past him. John turns and follows.)
HENRY We saw it. We saw it.

SHERLOCK No. I didn’t see anything.
HENRY (chasing after him) What? What are you talking about?
SHERLOCK I didn’t. See. Anything.
(He hurries onwards with Henry and John trailing along behind him.)
Some time later at Henry’s house, Henry and John hurry indoors. Sherlock has disappeared off elsewhere.
HENRY Look, he must have seen it. I saw it – he must have. He must have. I can’t...Why? Why?
(He stops in the doorway of the sitting room, turning back to John in anguish.)
HENRY Why would he say that? It-it-it-it it was there. It was.
(Taking his gloves off, John ushers him across to the sofa.)
JOHN Henry, Henry, I need you to sit down, try and relax, please.
HENRY (sitting on the sofa) I’m okay, I’m okay.
JOHN Listen, I’m gonna give you something to help you sleep, all right?
(He looks around the room and sees a bottle of water on a bureau nearby. As he goes over to get it, Henry unwraps his scarf from his neck, smiling.)
HENRY This is good news, John. It’s-it’s-it’s good. I’m not crazy. There is a hound, there... there is. And Sherlock – he saw it too. No matter what he said, he saw it.
Sherlock is back at the inn. Sitting in an armchair by a roaring open fire, his face is still full of shock and disbelief. Unaware of his distress, other patrons sit at tables nearby having their evening meal. John comes in and sits down in the armchair on the other side of the fire.
JOHN Well, he is in a pretty bad way. He’s manic, totally convinced there’s some mutant super-dog roaming the moors.
(With his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth, Sherlock glances nervously at John for a moment, then continues to gaze in the direction of the fire, lost in thought.) JOHN And there isn’t, though, is there? ’Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super-dog, we’d know.
(Sherlock clasps his fingers together, closing his eyes and breathing heavily as if trying to fend off a panic attack.)
JOHN They’d be for sale. I mean, that’s how it works.
(He remembers something and reaches for his notebook.)
JOHN Er, listen er, on the moor I saw someone signalling. Er, Morse – I guess it’s Morse. (Sherlock blinks rapidly and repeatedly.)
JOHN (looking at his notes) Doesn’t seem to make much sense.

(Sherlock pulls in a sharp breath through his nose and then blows the breath out again through his mouth.)
JOHN Er, U, M, Q, R, A. Does that mean...anything...?
(He finally realises how distressed his colleague is looking and pauses for a moment, then decides that he can’t be right. He puts his notebook away again and sits back in his chair.) JOHN So, okay, what have we got? We know there’s footprints, Because Henry found them; so did the tour guide bloke. We all heard something.

(Sherlock blows out another shaky breath. John looks across to him and frowns momentarily.)
JOHN Maybe we should just look for whoever’s got a big dog.
SHERLOCK Henry’s right.

JOHN What?
SHERLOCK (his voice shaking) I saw it too.
JOHN (shocked) What?
SHERLOCK I saw it too, John.
JOHN Just...just a minute. (He sits forward.) You saw what?
(Sherlock finally meets his gaze but his face is twisted with self-loathing as he forces himself to admit the truth.)
SHERLOCK A hound, out there in the Hollow. (He talks through gritted teeth.) A gigantic hound.
(John almost laughs as Sherlock looks away, trying unsuccessfully to blink back tears. John sits back in his chair again, not quite able to cope with this strange reaction from his colleague.)
JOHN Um, look, Sherlock, we have to be rational about this, okay? Now you, of all people, can’t just...
(Sherlock blows out another breath.)
JOHN Let’s just stick to what we know, yes? Stick to the facts.
(Sherlock looks round at him.)
SHERLOCK (softly) Once you’ve ruled out the impossible, whatever remains – however improbable – must be true.
JOHN What does that mean?
(Looking away again, Sherlock reaches down and picks up a drink from a nearby table. Looking down at his trembling hand, he sniggers.)
SHERLOCK Look at me. I’m afraid, John. Afraid.
(He takes a drink and then holds the glass up again, his hand still shaking.)
JOHN Sherlock?
SHERLOCK Always been able to keep myself distant...(he takes another drink from the glass)...divorce myself from...feelings. But look, you see...
(He holds up the glass and glares at his shaking hand.)
SHERLOCK ...body’s betraying me. Interesting, yes? Emotions. (He slams the glass down onto the table.) The grit on the lens, the fly in the ointment.
JOHN Yeah, all right, Spock, just...
(Realising that he is starting to raise his voice, he looks around at the other people in the restaurant behind him and then looks back to Sherlock.)
JOHN (more softly) ...take it easy.
(Sherlock is blowing out a few more breaths and still failing to bring himself under control. He glances panic-stricken at John.)
JOHN You’ve been pretty wired lately, you know you have. I think you’ve just gone out there and got yourself a bit worked up.
SHERLOCK Worked...up?
JOHN It was dark and scary....
SHERLOCK (laughing sarcastically) Me?! There’s nothing wrong with me.

(He looks away, almost beginning to hyperventilate, then puts his fingertips to his temples, groaning in anguish. John looks at him in concern.)
JOHN Sherlock....
(Sherlock begins blowing out breaths again, his fingers trembling against his skin.)

JOHN Sher...
SHERLOCK (loudly, furiously) THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!
(He glares round at John.)
SHERLOCK DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
(He looks round at the other patrons, all of whom are now staring at him. He looks away again, then looks at John.)
SHERLOCK You want me to prove it, yes?
(He pulls in a deep breath, trying to get himself under control.)
SHERLOCK We’re looking for a dog, yes, a great big dog, that’s your brilliant theory. Cherchez le chien. Good, excellent, yes, where shall we start?
(He looks over his shoulder and points at a man and woman sitting opposite each other at a table in the corner of the restaurant. His voice becomes savage and relentless as he goes into deduction mode.)
SHERLOCK How about them? The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman. The answer’s yes.
JOHN Yes?
SHERLOCK She’s got a West Highland terrier called Whisky. Not exactly what we’re looking for.
JOHN (quietly) Oh, Sherlock, for God’s sake....
(Sherlock looks briefly across at the man and his knitted jumper with reindeer and holly leaves on it before turning away again.)
SHERLOCK (quick fire) Look at the jumper he’s wearing. Hardly worn. Clearly he’s uncomfortable in it. Maybe it’s because of the material; more likely the hideous pattern, suggesting it’s a present, probably Christmas. So he wants into his mother’s good books. Why? Almost certainly money.
(He takes another quick glance at the man.)
SHERLOCK (quick fire) He’s treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he’s trying to economise on his own food.
JOHN Well, maybe he’s just not hungry.
SHERLOCK (quick fire, becoming almost frenetic) No, small plate. Starter. He’s practically licked it clean. She’s nearly finished her pavlova. If she’d treated him, he’d have had as much as he wanted. He’s hungry all right, and not well off – you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes.
(He asks the question he’s expecting to come from John at any moment.)
SHERLOCK “How do you know she’s his mother?”
(John, who until now has been looking at his colleague with concern as Sherlock’s voice – while lowered – has become increasingly intense, smiles briefly.)
SHERLOCK (quick fire) Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother’s more likely. Now, he was a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive – fish hooks. They’re all quite old now, which suggests he’s been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world, so he’s turned to his widowed mother for help. “Widowed?” Yes, obviously. She’s got a man’s wedding ring on a chain round her neck – clearly her late husband’s and too big for her finger. She’s well-dressed but her jewellery’s cheap. She could afford better, but she’s kept it – it’s sentimental. Now, the dog tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly, but no hairs above the knees, suggesting it’s a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it is – a West Highland terrier called Whisky. “How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?” Because she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its

name and that’s not cheating, that’s listening, I use my senses, John, unlike some people, so you see, I am fine, in fact I’ve never been better, so just Leave. Me. Alone.
(He glares at John, who stares back at him in shock.)
JOHN Yeah.

(He clears his throat.)
JOHN Okay. Okay.
(Distressed by his colleague’s venom, he tries to settle back in his chair as Sherlock stares towards the fire, breathing heavily.)
JOHN And why would you listen to me? I’m just your friend.
SHERLOCK (savagely) I don’t have friends.
JOHN (softly) Naah. Wonder why?
(He gets up and walks away.)
Shortly afterwards, John storms out of the pub and stops just outside, breathing heavily. He gazes up into the sky and blows out a breath, pulling himself together, then looks into the distance and his eyes narrow. The flashing light is back on the hillside. As it continues to flash, he starts to walk in its direction.
HENRY’S HOUSE. Henry is asleep on the sofa at the edge of the kitchen. He has a duvet over him and a pillow under his head, presumably brought in by John after giving him a sleeping pill. Now he wakes, sits up and rubs his hands over his face, sighing. He stands up and walks over to the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and looks out into the dark garden. Still half asleep, he has a sudden mental flash of the word “Liberty” stitched into material, and then the following “In” word. Recoiling from the memory, he buries his face in his hands and sighs in anguish.
MOORS. Using his torch to illuminate the way, John is walking towards the flashing light on the hillside. As he reaches the top of the hill he can hear a rhythmic squeaking noise, and then as he shines his light around he realises that there are several cars parked up there. The drivers sitting in each car flinch and hold their hands up to shield their faces from the beam from John’s torch, but they are also trying to avoid being identified and John now realises why as he turns his beam onto a car which has slightly steamed-up windows and which is rocking from side to side. Its headlights are intermittently flashing on and off. A woman’s voice comes from inside the car.
WOMAN’s VOICE Oh! Mr. Seldon! You’ve done it again!
MAN’s VOICE Oh, I keep catching it with my belt.
(As the inhabitants of the car groan and continue about their...ahem, business, John lowers his torch.)
JOHN Oh, God.
(He hesitates and squints at the car, almost tempted to take another look and half-raising his torch again, but then it fully hits him that the Morse messages he wrote down yesterday were nothing more than the random flashings of a car’s headlights during the sexual goings-on of a dogging site. He turns and heads back towards the pub.)
JOHN Sh...
(As he walks away from the hillside his phone trills a text alert. He gets the phone out and looks at the message
Henry’s therapist currently in Cross Keys Pub
S
John writes a brief reply, speaking it aloud as he types.)
JOHN So?
(The reply comes almost instantly
Interview her?
John answers
WHY SHOULD I?
After a moment he gets another alert

Downloading image...
Shortly afterwards the image arrives and he opens it. It’s a covertly-taken photograph of Louise Mortimer standing at the bar. She’s pretty, and around John’s age. He looks at the photo for a moment and then walks on.)
JOHN Ooh, you’re a bad man.
(It’s not clear, however, whether he’s talking to himself or to Sherlock.)
HENRY’S HOUSE. Henry has sat back down on the sofa and has wrapped the duvet around him. The television is on nearby but he is dozing and not paying attention to it. He wakes a little and looks out in the dark garden again, his eyes tired and heavy, then he turns to look at the TV. An old black and white film is showing several dogs running around somewhere dark and spooky-looking. Henry quickly changes the channel to a less threatening film that looks as if it’s set in a rural village during the 1940s.
Suddenly the security lights outside the house come on. Henry looks anxiously into the garden but can see nothing moving in the bright lights. A few seconds later the lights fade out again. Henry turns his head away and instantly – unseen by him – something moves quickly across the garden by the back fence. Henry changes the TV channel again and picks the worst possible choice as a wolf snarls straight into the camera while a woman screams in terror offscreen. Recoiling in annoyed frustration, Henry turns the TV off. Instantly the security lights come on again. There still appears to be nothing out there but Henry gets up and walks closer to the glass doors. Just as the lights begin to fade again, a huge shape flicks across the garden at the far end. It moves so fast that it’s impossible to see what it is, except that it appears to be fairly low to the ground. Henry recoils in horror and looks across to a small cabinet on the other side of the room. He hesitates, almost afraid to move, but then runs across and scrabbles in the cabinet before pulling out a pistol. Panting in terror, he turns and looks out into the dark garden again and then, in a move that has every viewer yelling at the screen, “Never go nearer to the danger, you idiot!” he walks slowly towards the glass doors. Just as he almost has his nose against the glass the lights blaze again and a massive shape, most definitely looking like the head of a huge dog, slams against the glass on the other side and then immediately vanishes again. Screaming and wailing in panic, Henry stumbles back and aims his pistol at the glass. The lights fade out again. Henry sobs and a couple of seconds later the lights flash on yet again. His eyes rake over the garden but there’s nothing to be seen. The lights fade one more time and by now Henry has sunk to the floor, his hands over his face as he sobs in absolute terror.
CROSS KEYS INN. John is sitting with Louise Mortimer in the pub. They are chatting and laughing.
MORTIMER (giggling) That’s so mean!
(John picks up a half-empty wine bottle from the table.)
JOHN Um, more wine, Doctor?
MORTIMER Are you trying to get me drunk, Doctor?
JOHN The thought never occurred! (He refills her glass.)
MORTIMER Because a while ago I thought you were chatting me up.
JOHN (refilling his own glass) Ooh! Where did I go wrong?
MORTIMER When you started asking me about my patients.
JOHN Well, you see, I am one of Henry’s oldest friends.
MORTIMER Yeah, and he’s one of my patients, so I can’t talk about him.
JOHN Mmm.
MORTIMER Although he has told me about all his oldest friends. (She looks at him thoughtfully.) Which one are you?
JOHN (hopefully) A new one?
(She scoffs.)

JOHN Okay, what about his father? He wasn’t one of your patients. Wasn’t he some sort of conspiracy nutter...(he quickly corrects himself)...theorist?
MORTIMER You’re only a nutter if you’re wrong.
JOHN Mmm. And was he wrong?

MORTIMER I should think so!
JOHN But he got fixated on Baskerville, didn’t he? With what they were doing in there... Couldn’t Henry have gone the same way, started imagining a hound?
(Louise looks at him pointedly.)
MORTIMER Why do you think I’m going to talk about this?!
JOHN (laughing in acknowledgement of her seeing through him) Because I think you’re worried about him, and because I’m a doctor too...
(His face becomes more serious.)
JOHN ...and because I have another friend who might be having the same problem.
(They lock eyes for a long moment and finally Louise sighs. She has apparently decided to tell him more than she really ought to...but before she can even begin a hand claps down onto John’s shoulder from behind him. John looks round and sees Bob Frankland grinning at him.)
FRANKLAND Doctor Watson!
JOHN (unhappily) Hi.
FRANKLAND (to Louise) Hello. (To John) How’s the investigation going?
JOHN (doing everything but roll his eyes in dismay) Hello.
MORTIMER What? Investigation?
FRANKLAND Didn’t you know? Don’t you read the blog? Sherlock Holmes!
JOHN It’s....
MORTIMER Sherlock who?
JOHN No, it’s...
FRANKLAND Private detective! (He claps John on the shoulder again.) This is his P.A! JOHN P.A?
FRANKLAND Well, live-in P.A.
JOHN Perfect.
MORTIMER Live-in.
JOHN This is Doctor Mortimer, Henry’s therapist.
FRANKLAND Oh, hello. (He shakes hands with her.) Bob Frankland.
(He turns back to John. As he speaks, Louise is already twisting on her chair to take her coat off the back.)
FRANKLAND Listen, tell Sherlock I’ve been keeping an eye on Stapleton. Any time he wants a little chat...right?
JOHN Mmm.
(Frankland laughs heartily, claps John on the shoulder yet again and then walks away. John looks at Louise and realises that she has got her coat in her hands.)
JOHN Oh.
MORTIMER Why don’t you buy him a drink? I think he likes you.
(She stands up and leaves. John sighs.)
DAY TIME. THE MOORS. Sherlock is back on the stony outcrop again, staring towards Baskerville. His eyes flick between the complex and Dewer’s Hollow as he tries to make sense of what happened the previous night, then he turns and looks back towards Grimpen Village.
HENRY’S HOUSE. Henry goes to the door at the sound of a knock. As soon as he opens it Sherlock surges though, being loudly cheerful.
SHERLOCK Morning!
(He’s about to head straight for the kitchen but suddenly turns around and clasps Henry by the shoulders.)

SHERLOCK Oh, how are you feeling?
(Henry looks terrible. Sherlock ducks his head down to get a better look into his face.) HENRY (exhaustedly) I’m...I didn’t sleep very well.
SHERLOCK That’s a shame. Shall I make you some coffee? (He looks up at the ceiling above the door and points.) Oh look, you’ve got damp!
(He grins falsely at him until Henry turns his head to look, then drops the smile and turns and walks away towards the kitchen. Hurrying over to the cupboards, he starts opening and closing each one rapidly. Finally he finds the metal jar that he’s looking for and takes it out, rummaging inside it as he elbows the cupboard door closed. Tucking something inside his coat, he goes over to the sink and picks up a couple of mugs, taking them over to the central island just as Henry tiredly wanders in.)
HENRY Listen...last night.
(Sherlock gives him that horrifying attempt at a friendly smile as he takes the top off the coffee tin.)
HENRY Why did you say you hadn’t seen anything? I mean, I only saw the hound for a minute.
(Sherlock has been dumping spoonfuls of coffee into the mugs without even looking, his eyes locked on Henry’s, and now he slams the coffee tin down onto the surface and steps closer to him, his eyes back to their normal intensity.)
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”?
HENRY I don’t know! I....
SHERLOCK Actually, I’d better skip the coffee.
(He flares out of the kitchen. Henry sighs wearily.)
Later, Sherlock is walking back through the village but stops as he sees John in the church graveyard, sitting on the steps of a war memorial and looking through the notes in his notebook. Sherlock walks along the path towards John, who looks up as he hears him approach. His expression becomes uncomfortable as he tucks his notebook into his pocket. Sherlock stops in front of him, also looking awkward.
SHERLOCK Did you, er, get anywhere with that Morse code?
JOHN (stepping down) No.
(He starts to walk away.)
SHERLOCK U, M, Q, R, A, wasn’t it?
(John keeps walking and Sherlock follows along behind him. He voices the initials as a word.)
SHERLOCK UMQRA.
JOHN Nothing.
(In Sherlock’s mind, he puts full stops in between the letters but still voices it as a word.) SHERLOCK U.M.Q...
JOHN Look, forget it. It’s...I thought I was on to something. I wasn’t.
SHERLOCK Sure?
JOHN Yeah.
SHERLOCK How about Louise Mortimer? Did you get anywhere with her?
JOHN No.
SHERLOCK Too bad. Did you get any information?
(John smiles briefly and glances over his shoulder but still keeps walking.)
JOHN You being funny now?
SHERLOCK Thought it might break the ice a bit.

JOHN Funny doesn’t suit you. I’d stick to ice.
(Sherlock looks at John’s retreating back, his face full of pain.)
SHERLOCK John....
JOHN It’s fine.
SHERLOCK No, wait. What happened last night...Something happened to me; something I’ve not really experienced before...
JOHN Yes, you said fear. Sherlock Holmes got scared. You said.
(Sherlock catches him up, takes hold of his arm and pulls him round to face him.) SHERLOCK No-no-no, it was more than that, John. It was doubt. I felt doubt. I’ve always been able to trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes, until last night.
JOHN You can’t actually believe that you saw some kind of monster.
SHERLOCK No, I can’t believe that. (He grins bitterly for a moment.) But I did see it, so the question is how? How?
JOHN Yes. Yeah, right, good. So you’ve got something to go on, then? Good luck with that.
(He turns and starts to walk away again. Sherlock turns and calls after him.)
SHERLOCK Listen, what I said before, John. I meant it.
(John stops and turns back to face him.)
SHERLOCK I don’t have friends.
(He bites his lip briefly.)
SHERLOCK I’ve just got one.
(John looks away as he takes that statement in for a moment, then he nods briefly and glances back at Sherlock.)
JOHN Right.
(He turns and walks away again. Sherlock looks down, then instantly raises his head again as his eyes begin to flicker in realisation of something.)
SHERLOCK John? John!
(He starts to chase after him.)
SHERLOCK You are amazing! You are fantastic!
JOHN (not stopping) Yes, all right! You don’t have to overdo it.
SHERLOCK (catching up and overtaking him, then walking backwards in front of him) You’ve never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable.
JOHN Cheers....What?
(Sherlock turns round and walks beside him, taking out his own notebook and starting to write in it.)
SHERLOCK Some people who aren’t geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others.
JOHN Hang on – you were saying “Sorry” a minute ago. Don’t spoil it. Go on what have I done that’s so bloody stimulating?
(Sherlock stops just outside the pub door and turns back to John, showing what he has just written in his notebook
HOUND
JOHN Yeah?
SHERLOCK (pulling the notebook back and writing in it again) But what if it’s not a word? What if it is individual letters?
(He shows him the page of the notebook again, which now reads
H.O.U.N.D.
JOHN You think it’s an acronym?
SHERLOCK (putting his notebook away) Absolutely no idea but...
(He turns towards the pub door and trails off as he sees a familiar figure standing inside at the bar. Wearing grey trousers and a grey shirt with a light jacket over the top, heavily

suntanned and with sunglasses on, Detective Inspector Lestrade has his hands in his trouser pockets and is looking the absolute epitome of casual drop-dead gorgeousness. Fandom’s underwear simultaneously explodes worldwide and hello, Inspector, have you come to take down my particulars? Your transcriber sticks her head into a bucket of cold water for a minute and then continues as Sherlock storms into the pub.)

SHERLOCK What the hell are you doing here?
LESTRADE Well, nice to see you too(!) I’m on holiday, would you believe?
SHERLOCK No, I wouldn’t.
LESTRADE (taking his sunglasses off as John walks over to the bar) Hullo, John.
JOHN Greg!
LESTRADE I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?
SHERLOCK I’m waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?
LESTRADE I’ve told you I’m on holiday.
SHERLOCK You’re brown as a nut. You’re clearly just back from your ‘holidays’. LESTRADE (trying to look nonchalant) Yeah, well I fancied another one.
SHERLOCK Oh, this is Mycroft, isn’t it?
LESTRADE No, 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?
JOHN That’s his name.
SHERLOCK (frowning) Is it?
LESTRADE Yes – if you’d ever bothered to find out. Look, I’m not your handler...(he turns away to pick up his pint from the bar)...and I don’t just do what your brother tells me. JOHN Actually, you could be just the man we want.
SHERLOCK Why?
JOHN Well, I’ve not been idle, Sherlock. (He rummages in his trouser pocket.) I think I might have found something.
(He shows Sherlock the sales invoice from Undershaw Meat Supplies which he stole off the bar while he was checking in.)
JOHN Here. Didn’t know if it was relevant; starting to look like it might be. That is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant.
SHERLOCK Excellent.
JOHN (looking at Greg) Nice scary inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy.
(As Sherlock and Greg exchange a look, John slaps his hand down on the bell on top of the bar.)
JOHN Shop!
Later, in the small Snug next to the bar, Greg is sitting at a table looking through paperwork – presumably previous invoices from Undershaw – while Gary the manager and Billy the chef sit at the other side of the table looking at him anxiously. Nearby, Sherlock has poured a cup of coffee from a filter machine and is stirring it. He ostentatiously taps the drips off the spoon into the cup and then picks it up and carries it over to John, offering it to him.
JOHN What’s this?
SHERLOCK Coffee. I made coffee.
JOHN You never make coffee.
SHERLOCK I just did. Don’t you want it?
JOHN You don’t have to keep apologising.
(Sherlock looks away with a hurt expression on his face. John relents and takes the cup and saucer.)
JOHN Thanks.

(Sherlock smiles happily. John takes a mouthful and grimaces.)
JOHN Mm. I don’t take sugar...
(The hurt expression comes back onto Sherlock’s face as he looks away again. He’s like a puppy whose owner has just told him off for chewing his slippers. John looks at his face and feels that he has no choice but to take another drink.)
LESTRADE These records go back nearly two months.
(Grimacing at the taste, John puts the cup back into the saucer and looks at Sherlock.) JOHN That’s nice. That’s good.
(He turns away to put the drink down as Greg continues interrogating Gary and Billy.) LESTRADE Is that when you had the idea, after the TV show went out?
BILLY It’s me. It was me. (He turns to his partner.) I’m sorry, Gary – I couldn’t help it. I had a bacon sandwich at Carol’s wedding and one thing just led to another....
(Sherlock grins behind him. Greg is equally disbelieving.)
LESTRADE Nice try.
GARY Look, we were just trying to give things a bit of a boost, you know? A great big dog run wild up on the moor – it was heaven-sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster.
LESTRADE Where do you keep it?
GARY There’s an old mineshaft. It’s not too far. It was all right there.
SHERLOCK “Was”?
GARY (sighing) We couldn’t control the bloody thing. It was vicious. (He sighs again.) And then, a month ago, Billy took him to the vet and, er...you know.
JOHN It’s dead?
GARY Put down.
BILLY Yeah. No choice. So it’s over.
GARY It was just a joke, you know?
LESTRADE Yeah, hilarious.
(He stands up and looks down at them angrily.)
LESTRADE You’ve nearly driven a man out of his mind.
(He walks out of the room. John follows him. Sherlock watches him go, then peers into John’s coffee cup before following. John follows Greg across the bar and out of the pub.) JOHN You know he’s actually pleased you’re here?
(Greg throws him a disbelieving look.)
JOHN Secretly pleased.
LESTRADE Is he? That’s nice. I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. Appeals to his...his...
(He stops and searches for the right word. John provides an appropriate suggestion.) JOHN ...Asperger’s?
(Sherlock comes out of the pub and glowers at John, having heard the last word.) LESTRADE So, you believe him about having the dog destroyed?
SHERLOCK No reason not to.
LESTRADE Well, hopefully there’s no harm done. Not quite sure what I’d charge him with anyway. I’ll have a word with the local Force.
(He nods to the boys.)
LESTRADE Right, that’s that, then. Catch you later. (He smiles.) I’m enjoying this! It’s nice to get London out of your lungs!
(John watches him walk away, then turns to Sherlock.)
JOHN So that was their dog that people saw out on the moor?
SHERLOCK Looks like it.
JOHN But that wasn’t what you saw. That wasn’t just an ordinary dog.
SHERLOCK No. (His gaze become distant.) It was immense, had burning red eyes and it was glowing, John. Its whole body was glowing.

(He shudders, shaking off the memory, then turns and walks towards the car park.) SHERLOCK I’ve got a theory but I need to get back into Baskerville to test it. JOHN How? Can’t pull off the ID trick again.
SHERLOCK Might not have to.

(He has just got his phone out and hit a speed dial and now he lifts the phone to his ear.) SHERLOCK (insincerely into phone) Hello, brother dear. How are you?
BASKERVILLE. After many generic scenes of some of the scientific experiments being conducted at the facility, none of which your humble transcriber can be bothered to type out [buy the DVD and support your favourite production team!], Doctor Stapleton can be seen handling a fluffy white bunny inside a large clear plastic dome. At the entrance gates, the Land Rover approaches and stops. An armed security man goes over to Sherlock’s side as the dog handler and sniffer dog also approach.

SECURITY GUARD Afternoon, sir. If you could turn the engine off.
(Sherlock hands over his ID pass and switches the car off.)
SECURITY GUARD Thank you.
(As he goes over the gate room to swipe the card and other soldiers check the vehicle over from the outside, Sherlock speaks quietly to John.)

SHERLOCK I need to see Major Barrymore as soon as we get inside. JOHN Right.
SHERLOCK Which means you’ll have to start the search for the hound. JOHN Okay.

SHERLOCK In the labs; Stapleton’s first.
(The guard brings the ID card back and hands it over.)
SHERLOCK (quietly to John) Could be dangerous.
(John smiles momentarily. The gate slides open and Sherlock starts the car and drives onto the base.)
LATER. MAJOR BARRYMORE’S OFFICE. The major is talking snarkily to Sherlock. BARRYMORE Oh, you know I’d love to. I’d love to give you unlimited access to this place. Why not?
SHERLOCK It’s a simple enough request, Major.
BARRYMORE I’ve never heard of anything so bizarre.
SHERLOCK You’re to give me twenty-four hours. It’s what I’ve...(he pauses momentarily) ...negotiated.
BARRYMORE (sternly) Not a second more. I may have to comply with this order but I don’t have to like it.
(He swings around to his computer on the desk behind him as Sherlock starts to leave the office.)
BARRYMORE I don’t know what you expect to find here anyway.
SHERLOCK (turning back) Perhaps the truth.
BARRYMORE (looking round again) About what? Oh, I see. The big coat should have told me.
(Sherlock frowns.)
BARRYMORE You’re one of the conspiracy lot, aren’t you?
(He grins as Sherlock rolls his eyes.)
BARRYMORE Well, then, go ahead, seek them out the monsters, the death rays, the aliens.
SHERLOCK (nonchalantly) Have you got any of those?
(Now it’s Barrymore’s turn to roll his eyes.)
SHERLOCK Oh, just wondering.
BARRYMORE (leaning forward secretively) A couple. Crash landed here in the sixties. We call them Abbott and Costello.
(He straightens up and turns back to his computer.)

BARRYMORE Good luck, Mr. Holmes.
HENRY’S HOUSE. Henry is in the sitting room holding a framed photograph of himself when he was about five years old standing in between his parents. As he clutches the photograph he gazes into the distance with a lost expression on his face but gradually exhaustion begins to claim him and his eyelids begin to droop. Eventually his eyes close completely – and immediately the red glowing eyes of the hound flash in his mind. Gasping in horror, Henry opens his eyes again, and then wails in anguish.
HENRY Oh, God!
(Sobbing, he clutches at his head and then buries his face in his hands and weeps in despair.)
BASKERVILLE. The lift doors open into the first lab that the boys visited but this time only John comes out of the elevator. As he walks forward he sees that there are only two scientists in the room and even they are leaving through a side door. The second one turns off the main overhead lights as he goes, which leaves the room lit far more dimly by a few arc lights on stands which are dotted around and the screens of some computers. John looks around a little anxiously as he realises how spooky and quiet it is, then walks towards doors at the far end of the lab, the doors which Doctor Frankland came out of on the first occasion that they met him. He has a security pass in his pocket and he takes it out and swipes it through the reader. This must be an even more powerful card than the one which Sherlock used last time because it doesn’t require a second card to unlock the doors. John pulls the door open and goes inside, having apparently ignored – or been too BAMF to care about – the handwritten notice on the outside which reads
KEEP OUT
UNLESS YOU WANT
A COLD!
He walks through the decontamination zone to the door at the far end and taps a finger on the glass window in the door. When nobody replies he pushes the door open and goes into a room which has a glass-walled section on the left hand side. There’s a glass cage inside the sealed section but there doesn’t appear to be anything inside. In front of him is a desk with equipment, folders, a phone and various other things on it, and above the desk are small plastic tubes coming out of the wall and dials that indicate that these tubes dispense various gases. John opens the door of a small cupboard set into the desk but finds nothing of interest and so continues looking around. On the right hand side of the room are large metal pipes which presumably also carry gases. One of them is leaking slightly.
John peers around a little longer and then comes out of the room and goes back through the decontamination zone and into the lab. Just to his right is a large arc light on a stand. As John turns to his right to close the door behind him, the thing lights up and nine bright bulbs shine straight into his eyes. He squinches his eyes shut and turns his head away, grimacing at the pain.
JOHN Oh, no! Jesus! Ow!
(Opening his eyes a little, he squints and tries to see into the room. All the other lights in the room appear to have come on as well and – with his own vision blanked out by the arc lights – there’s a wall of whiteness all around him. Just then a loud insistent alarm begins to blare into the room. John groans and covers his ears, completely overwhelmed by the bright light, lack of vision and the noise. Grimacing, he tries to make his way across the lab to the lift, holding his hand up in front of his eyes as the after-image of the arc lights keeps blanking out his vision. Finally reaching the other end of the lab, he pulls out the ID card and swipes it through the reader. It whines and tells him “ACCESS DENIED”. He stares in disbelief and swipes the card again but it whines and gives him the same message. Holding one hand to an ear as the alarm continues to blare, he tries once more.)
JOHN Come on.

(The same whine and message is repeated. John glares at it in exasperation – and at that moment all the lights go out and the alarm drones into silence. The room is now under emergency lighting only, which is dark red and barely illuminates the area.)
JOHN (under his breath) What the...?

(He scrabbles in his pocket for his flashlight and switches it on, although its beam isn’t very helpful against the continued after-image of the arc lights which is still affecting his retinas. He calls out.)
JOHN Hello?

(He screws his eyes shut for a moment in a failed attempt to clear the after-images. As he opens his eyes again and peers through the bright dots, a shadow seems to flicker across the room some distance away. John blinks and looks around the room, the after-images still frustrating his ability to see anything clearly. He lowers his head into his hand and rubs his eyes for a few seconds, then raises his head again, realising how ominously quiet it now is in the lab. But that doesn’t last long as something rattles to his right. He walks forward cautiously, looking a little anxiously at the row of large cages which he now realises are all covered with sheeting that obscures their contents. The rattle sounds again. John walks slowly to the first of the cages, turning once to check behind him, then grabs hold of the sheeting and pulls it back to show that the first cage is empty. Pulling the sheet back down again, he walks to the next cage as something clinks near the lift doors. He swings around to look and shines his torch in that direction but can see nothing. He turns again and grabs the sheet over the second cage, tossing that back. Again the cage is empty, and the door is open. He moves on to the third cage and throws back the sheet. The monkey inside hurls itself at him, screaming as it grabs at the bars. John drops the sheet and stumbles back several paces, breathing heavily. He walks to the final cage and looks at it, then slowly his gaze is pulled down to the bottom of the bars where the sheeting has been pushed back a little. The door of the cage is slightly ajar and the bottom of it has been bent back by something that must be incredibly strong. As John stares at the bent bars in disbelief, a low savage growl sounds behind him. John spins around, his eyes going wide as he shines his flashlight around but he can see nothing. He sees the nearby door to the Cold Lab and walks briskly over to it, taking out his ID card and swiping it. The reader whines its ACCESS DENIED alert.)

JOHN No, come on, come on.
(He swipes the card again. Again it refuses to open the door. He stares in anguish, then pulls his mobile out of his pocket while shining his light around the room. He hits the speed dial and holds the phone to his ear as it begins to ring out and continues to ring.)
JOHN (under his breath) No, you...Don’t be ridiculous, pick up.
(Eventually he gives up and switches the phone off again.)
JOHN (in a whisper) Oh, dammit!
(Putting the phone back in his pocket he looks across the room determinedly.)
JOHN (softly) Right.
(Trying to shine his torch in all directions at once and making his way cautiously around all the workstations and islands, he hurries as quickly as he can towards the side door through which the scientists left earlier. As he goes, the distinctive sound of claws on floor tiles skitters across the room.)
JOHN (under his breath) Oh sh...
(Ducking low, he hurries to the door and takes out his card again.)
JOHN (in a whisper) Okay...
(As he reaches towards the card reader, the claws trot across the floor to his right, and then something snarls. John turns and stares, breathing heavily, as there are more sounds nearby – claws on the floor tiles, equipment being pushed aside, and then a low ominous growl. John shoves the card back into his pocket and then claps his hand over his mouth to dampen his own panicked breathing as the growl rumbles on. As the growl finally falls

silent, John makes a break for it and races across the room, running towards the cages and pulling open the door of one of the empty ones before scrambling inside, slamming the door shut and bolting it and then reaching through the bars and pulling the sheet down over the cage. Elsewhere in the lab, the whatever-it-is snarls as John retreats from the door and squats down against the side bars, wrapping his hand around his mouth again and trying not to sob as the creature growls again.)

(Suddenly John’s phone starts to ring. Gasping, he scrambles in his pocket to retrieve it. He answers it on the second ring and holds it up towards his mouth. He keeps his voice as soft as he possibly can but even at such a low volume his terror is evident.)
JOHN (softly) It’s here. It’s in here with me.
SHERLOCK (over phone) Where are you?
JOHN (softly) Get me out, Sherlock. You have got to get me out. The big lab the first lab that we saw.
(He breathes heavily. Outside, the creature growls. John whines loudly in terror and claps his hand over his mouth again.)
SHERLOCK (over phone) John? John?
JOHN (lowering his hand and keeping his voice no more than a whisper) Now, Sherlock. Please.
SHERLOCK (over phone) All right, I’ll find you. Keep talking.
JOHN (softly) I can’t. It’ll hear me.
SHERLOCK (over phone) Keep talking. What are you seeing?
(Throughout the conversation John has been peering through the small gap in the sheeting but the room is so dimly lit that he hasn’t been able to see anything.) SHERLOCK (over phone) John?
(The creature snarls again.)
JOHN (softly) Yes, I’m here.
SHERLOCK (insistently, over phone) What can you see?
(Getting onto his knees, John crawls closer to the gap in the sheeting, trying to keep his terrified breathing under control.)
JOHN (softly) I don’t know. I don’t know, but I can hear it.
(The creature growls loudly.)
JOHN (softly, terrified) Did you hear that?
SHERLOCK (over phone) Stay calm, stay calm. Can you see it?
(John peers into the gloom.)
SHERLOCK (over phone) Can you see it?
JOHN (quietly) No. I can...
(He trails off, then slowly straightens up, retreats backwards and sits back against the side bars as his face fills with absolute horror.)
JOHN (in a whisper) I can see it.
(He stares ahead of himself, his eyes full of dread as a shadow begins to move on the other side of the sheeting.)
JOHN (flatly) It’s here.
(The shadow moves closer as the creature growls once more.)
JOHN (flatly) It’s here.
(The shadow moves closer...and then the sheeting is tugged upwards as the lights come on in the lab and Sherlock’s face appears on the other side of the cage, looking anxiously down at him as he pulls the door open and goes inside.)
SHERLOCK (worriedly) Are you all right?
(John’s eyes widen in utter bewilderment as Sherlock bends down to him and puts a hand onto his shoulder.)
SHERLOCK John?
JOHN Jesus Christ...!

(He grabs the bars and pulls himself to his feet, hurrying out of the cage and stuffing his phone away as he turns back to his friend.)
JOHN (still breathless and panic-stricken) It was the hound, Sherlock. It was here. I swear it, Sherlock. It must...

(He looks around the lab which – now fully illuminated – shows that there’s nowhere that a large monster can be hiding.)
JOHN It must...
(His voice becomes high-pitched.)

JOHN Did...did...did you see it? You must have!
(Sherlock holds out a placatory hand towards him.)
SHERLOCK It’s all right. It’s okay now.
JOHN (high-pitched, frantic and hysterical) NO IT’S NOT! IT’S NOT OKAY! I saw it. I was wrong!

(Sherlock shrugs as John breathes heavily.) SHERLOCK Well, let’s not jump to conclusions. JOHN What?
SHERLOCK What did you see?

JOHN I told you I saw the hound. SHERLOCK Huge; red eyes? JOHN Yes.
SHERLOCK Glowing?

JOHN Yeah.
SHERLOCK No.
JOHN What?
SHERLOCK I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged.

JOHN Drugged?
SHERLOCK Can you walk?
JOHN (his voice shaky) Of course I can walk.
SHERLOCK Come on, then. It’s time to lay this ghost.
(He turns and heads for the door. Still trying to catch his breath, John looks around the lab again, then stumbles after Sherlock.)
In a small room full of cages, Doctor Stapleton is examing a fluffy white rabbit on a metal table. She looks up as Sherlock comes through the door, followed by John.
STAPLETON Oh. Back again? What’s on your mind this time?
SHERLOCK Murder, Doctor Stapleton. Refined, cold-blooded murder.
(He reaches back and turns off the light switch by the door. The limited lighting coming from the window at the end of the room is just enough to show that the rabbit is brightly glowing green. Sherlock turns the lights back on again.)
SHERLOCK Will you tell little Kirsty what happened to Bluebell or shall I?
(He smiles unpleasantly at her. She sighs.)
STAPLETON Okay. What do you want?
SHERLOCK Can I borrow your microscope?
LATER. In a larger lab, Sherlock is gazing into a microscope. Unhappy with what he’s seeing, he turns away from the ’scope and crushes something which looks crystalline into smaller pieces with a little hammer. Time passes and he varies between sitting with his back to the microscope, his hands folded in the prayer position in front of him as he thinks, or gazing into the ’scope, or scribbling chemical formulae onto the desk with different coloured marker pens. Nearby, John sits on a stool with his head propped on his hand, gazing blankly into space. Doctor Stapleton is standing near him.
STAPLETON Are you sure you’re okay?
(John looks up at her, blinking.)

STAPLETON You look very peaky.
JOHN No, I’m all right.
STAPLETON It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you’re interested.
JOHN What?
STAPLETON In the rabbits.
JOHN Mmm, right, yes.
STAPLETON (proudly) Aequoria Victoria, if you really want to know.
(John looks up at her.)
JOHN Why?
STAPLETON Why not? We don’t ask questions like that here. It isn’t done.
(A short distance from them, Sherlock looks increasingly irritated as he picks up another slide and puts it under the microscope.)
STAPLETON There was a mix-up, anyway. My daughter ended up with one of the lab specimens, so poor Bluebell had to go.
JOHN (cynically) Your compassion’s overwhelming.
STAPLETON (mockingly) I know. I hate myself sometimes.
JOHN So, come on then. You can trust me – I’m a doctor. What else have you got hidden away up here?
(Exasperated, Sherlock takes the slide out again. Stapleton sighs.)
STAPLETON Listen if you can imagine it, someone is probably doing it somewhere. Of course they are.
(Sherlock is staring intently at his latest slide but his eyes drift across towards John and Stapleton briefly.)
JOHN And cloning?
STAPLETON Yes, of course. Dolly the Sheep, remember?
JOHN Human cloning?
STAPLETON Why not?
JOHN What about animals? Not sheep...big animals.
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.
(Furious, Sherlock snatches the latest slide out from under the ’scope and hurls it against the nearest wall.)
SHERLOCK (livid) It’s not there!
JOHN Jesus!
SHERLOCK Nothing there! Doesn’t make any sense.
STAPLETON What were you expecting to find?
SHERLOCK (pacing) A drug, of course. There has to be a drug – a hallucinogenic or a delirient of some kind. There’s no trace of anything in the sugar.
JOHN Sugar?
SHERLOCK The sugar, yes. It’s a simple process of elimination. I saw the hound – saw it as my imagination expected me to see it a genetically engineered monster. But I knew I couldn’t believe the evidence of my own eyes, so there were seven possible reasons for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight – he saw it too but you didn’t, John. You didn’t see it. Now, we have eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpen apart from one thing you don’t take sugar in your coffee.
JOHN I see. So...
SHERLOCK I took it from Henry’s kitchen – his sugar. (He glares down at the microscope.) It’s perfectly all right.
JOHN But maybe it’s not a drug.
SHERLOCK No, it has to be a drug.
(He has sat on the stool with his head buried in his hands. Now he lowers his hands a little but keeps his head bowed and his eyes closed.)

SHERLOCK But how did it get into our systems. How?
(Slowly he begins to raise his head, still keeping his eyes closed.)
SHERLOCK There has to be something...
(The word ‘hound’ keeps drifting across his mind’s eye. He turns his head repeatedly as he tries to follow the words inside his head.)
SHERLOCK ...something...ah, something...
(His eyes open.)
SHERLOCK ...something buried deep.
(Taking a sharp breath through his nose, he turns and points imperiously at John and Stapleton.)
SHERLOCK Get out.
STAPLETON What?
SHERLOCK Get out. I need to go to my mind palace.
(John sags on his seat with an “Oh, not again” look.)
STAPLETON Your what?
(Sherlock has already turned his head away again and is staring ahead of himself. John gets off his stool.)
JOHN He’s not gonna be doing much talking for a while. We may as well go.
(Sherlock is breathing deeply, focusing his thoughts. Stapleton follows John as he heads for the door.)
STAPLETON His what?
JOHN Oh, his mind palace. It’s a memory technique – a sort of mental map. You plot a map with a location – it doesn’t have to be a real place – and then you deposit memories there that...Theoretically, you can never forget anything; all you have to do is find your way back to it.
STAPLETON So this imaginary location can be anything – a house or a street.
JOHN Yeah.
STAPLETON But he said “palace”. He said it was a palace.
JOHN (looking back towards Sherlock for a moment) Yeah, well, he would, wouldn’t he? (He leads her out of the room.)
(Sherlock gazes ahead of himself, his mind turned inwards as he walks through his memories unearthing everything he can recall in connection with the word “Liberty”. I could do much better justice to describing the visual process that we watch, but if you want this transcript printed this side of the London Olympics, I need to get it finished and I will try to come back and improve this section in the future. As Sherlock accesses different examples of the word and finds them unsuitable, he physically flicks them away with his hands and pulls in new variations before brushing those aside. The word “hound” creeps into his mind and drifts across it as he temporarily gives up on “Liberty” and shifts to “In”, adding various letters onto the word to form new ones like “Inn”, “India”, “Ingolstadt” and “Indium atomic number = 49”.)
(Flicking that line of thought away, he starts calling up images of large dogs, running through various breeds and temporarily being distracted by the image of Elvis Presley starting to sing “Hound Dog”. Irritated, he brushes that aside and tries to pull in all three words – Liberty, In, Hound – simultaneously and suddenly his eyes snap open and he jolts three times if he’s being repeatedly struck by lightning as the words finally crash into place Liberty,
Indiana
H.O.U.N.D.
He sinks back on his seat for a moment, then stands up and heads out of the lab.)
NIGHT TIME. THE MOORS. The hound howls and Henry races across the grass, his pistol in one hand, terrified as the hound snarls behind him. Henry runs on, glancing back repeatedly as he hears his pursuer gaining on him. Two red glowing eyes loom out of the

darkness each time he looks around, but now he suddenly seems to realise that he has a gun in his hand and he turns and fires towards the eyes.
Glass shatters and Louise Mortimer screams as she throws herself out of her chair in the sitting room of Henry’s house and cowers on the floor. Just beside her chair, the mirror on the wall has shattered under the impact of the bullet which Henry just fired into it. Sobbing and cowering, she looks up at Henry as he continues to aim at the mirror, his face blank, but now he comes back to himself and looks at the pistol in horror.

HENRY Oh my God.
(Louise continues to sob.)
HENRY Oh my God. Oh my God. I am so...I am so sorry. I am so sorry.
(He turns and runs from the room.)
BASKERVILLE. Stapleton leads Sherlock and John along a corridor and uses her card to swipe them into the area leading to Major Barrymore’s office. As they go into the room, Sherlock points back to the door they just came through.
SHERLOCK John.
JOHN Yeah, I’m on it.
(He turns back to keep an eye on the door as Stapleton goes over to sit down at a computer.)
SHERLOCK Project HOUND. Must have read about it and stored it away. An experiment in a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana.
(He stands behind Stapleton as she types her User ID onto the computer, then adds her password. A request to “Enter Search String” comes up and she looks up at Sherlock who dictates the letters.)
SHERLOCK H, O, U, N, D.
(She types in the letters and hits Enter. A message comes up saying ”NO ACCESS. CIA Classified” and requesting an authorisation code.)
STAPLETON That’s as far as my access goes, I’m afraid.
JOHN Well, there must be an override and password.
STAPLETON I imagine so, but that’d be Major Barrymore’s.
(Sherlock spins around and walks into Barrymore’s office.)
SHERLOCK Password, password, password.
(Switching on the lights in the room he sits down at the desk.)
SHERLOCK He sat here when he thought it up.
(Folding his hands in front of his mouth, he slowly spins a full circle on the chair, looking around the office as he goes. Stapleton comes to the doorway.)
SHERLOCK Describe him to me.
STAPLETON You’ve seen him.
SHERLOCK But describe him.
STAPLETON Er, he’s a bloody martinet, a throw-back, the sort of man they’d have sent into Suez.
SHERLOCK Good, excellent. Old-fashioned, traditionalist; not the sort that would use his children’s names as a password. (He gestures towards the drawings that Barrymore’s children have done for him and which he has pinned on the board above his desk.) He loves his job; proud of it and this is work-related, so what’s at eye level?
(He rapidly scans around everything in the room without altering the angle of his eyes.) SHERLOCK (gesturing to the right) Books. (Pointing to the left) Jane’s Defence Weekly – bound copies. (He looks to the right again and at the subject matter of some of the books on the bookshelf.) Hannibal; Wellington; Rommel; Churchill’s “History of the English- Speaking Peoples” – all four volumes.
(He stands up and looks at a bronze bust on a shelf.)

SHERLOCK Churchill – well, he’s fond of Churchill. (He looks back to the bookcases again.) Copy of “The Downing Street Years”; one, two, three, four, five separate biographies of Thatcher.
(He looks down to a framed photograph on the desk of a man in uniform standing with his teenage son.)

SHERLOCK Mid nineteen eighties at a guess. Father and son Barrymore senior. (Looking at the uniform of the older man) Medals Distinguished Service Order.
(He looks around to John.)
JOHN That date? I’d say Falklands veteran.

SHERLOCK Right. So Thatcher’s looking a more likely bet than Churchill.
(He walks out of the office and heads back towards the computer.)
STAPLETON (following him) So that’s the password?
SHERLOCK No. With a man like Major Barrymore, only first name terms would do. (Leaning down to the keyboard, he starts to type Margaret Thatcher’s first name into the “Auth code” box but stops as he reaches the penultimate letter, narrows his eyes and deletes everything back to the first letter, then retypes it as “Maggie”. Looking into the screen and gritting his teeth ever so slightly, he hits Enter. The computer beeps happily and announces “OVERRIDE 300/421 ACCEPTED. Loading...”)

(John comes over from the door to look at the screen. After a slight pause information begins to stream across the screen as everything related to Project H.O.U.N.D. becomes available. Sherlock’s concentration becomes intense as he takes it all in and focuses on certain phrases like “extreme suggestibility”, “fear and stimulus”, “conditioned terror”, “aerosol dispersal”. A photograph comes up of the project team posing happily together and he identifies the five project leaders amongst the larger group Elaine Dyson, Mary Uslowski, Rick Nader, Jack O’Mara and Leonard Hansen. Clearing the photo from the screen he rearranges the names into another order

Leonard Hansen
Jack O’Mara
Mary Uslowski
Rick Nade
Elaine Dyson
Standing beside him, Doctor Stapleton finally begins to understand.) STAPLETON HOUND.

(She stares in growing horror at the screen as more information from the project appears and words and phrases are highlighted such as “Paranoia”, “Severe frontal lobe damage”, “Blood-brain” “Gross cranial trauma”, “Dangerous acceleration”, “Multiple homicide”, accompanied by photographs of some of the subjects of the project screaming insanely.) JOHN (softly) Jesus.

SHERLOCK (still scanning the information as it flows across the screen) Project HOUND a new deleriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus; but they shut it down and hid it away in nineteen eighty-six.

STAPLETON Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on.
SHERLOCK And what they did to others. Prolonged exposure drove them insane – made them almost uncontrollably aggressive.
JOHN So someone’s been doing it again – carrying on the experiments?
SHERLOCK Attempting to refine it, perhaps, for the last twenty years.
STAPLETON Who?
(John nods at the screen, indicating the names of the project leaders.)
JOHN Those names mean anything to you?
STAPLETON No, not a thing.
SHERLOCK (sighing) Five principal scientists, twenty years ago.

(He pulls up the photograph of the team and begins zooming in on individuals within it. The closer footage shows that they are all wearing identical sweatshirts. Looming out of a diamond pattern in the centre of the sweatshirts is a large snarling wolf’s head and the legend “H.O.U.N.D.” is printed underneath. There is some smaller text underneath but it’s not yet clear what it says. Sherlock continues to zoom in and out of the photo to look more closely at the faces.)

SHERLOCK Maybe our friend’s somewhere in the back of the picture – someone who was old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986...
(He stops as he sees a face he recognises, and rolls his eyes a little as he realises the truth.)

SHERLOCK Maybe somebody who says “cell phone” because of time spent in America. You remember, John?
JOHN Mmm-hmm.
(Brief flashback to Doctor Frankland giving a card to Sherlock and saying, “Here’s my, er, cell number.”)

SHERLOCK He gave us his number in case we needed him.
STAPLETON (staring at the photo on the screen) Oh my God. Bob Frankland. But Bob doesn’t even work on...I mean, he’s a virologist. This was chemical warfare.
SHERLOCK It’s where he started, though...and he’s never lost the certainty, the obsession that that drug really could work. Nice of him to give us his number. (He reaches into his pocket and takes out Bob’s card.) Let’s arrange a little meeting.
(He walks away from the computer. John walks closer to it and looks at the last image – a very tight close-up of one of the sweatshirts. Stitched below the “H.O.U.N.D.” legend is the name of the American town and state where the project was based “Liberty, In”.)
(Just then John’s phone begins to ring. He digs it out of his pocket and frowns at the number on the screen, apparently not recognising it. He answers.)
JOHN Hello?
(Initially the only sound he can hear is a woman crying.)
JOHN Who’s this?
MORTIMER (over the phone) You’ve got to find Henry.
(John looks round to Sherlock.)
JOHN It’s Louise Mortimer. (Into phone) Louise, what’s wrong?
MORTIMER (tearfully) Henry was...was remembering; then...he tried...
(She gasps.)
MORTIMER He’s got a gun. He went for the gun and tried to...
JOHN What?
(She breaks down in tears again.)
MORTIMER He’s gone. You’ve got to stop him. I don’t know what he might do.
JOHN Where-where are you?
MORTIMER His house. I’m okay, I’m okay.
JOHN Right stay there. We’ll get someone to you, okay?
(Lowering his phone, he begins to text.)
SHERLOCK Henry?
JOHN He’s attacked her.
SHERLOCK Gone?
JOHN Mmm.
SHERLOCK (hitting a speed dial on his own phone) There’s only one place he’ll go to back to where it all started. (Into phone) Lestrade. Get to the Hollow....Dewer’s Hollow, now. And bring a gun.
With the pistol still in his hand, Henry is walking briskly across the moors towards the woods surrounding Dewer’s Hollow. Some distance behind him, Sherlock and John race across the terrain in the Land Rover. Unaware of this, Henry continues onwards, stopping

momentarily to stare tearfully at the woods ahead of him, but then he continues onwards. Not long afterwards Sherlock pulls up presumably where the woods begin and he and John get out and continue on foot. Henry reaches the lip of the Hollow and begins to make his way down into the misty valley. Reaching the bottom he slows down and stumbles slowly forward, wandering around vaguely for a moment before coming to a halt.

HENRY (softly) I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dad.
(Squatting down, he brings the pistol up and opens his mouth as he aims the muzzle towards it.)
SHERLOCK No, Henry, no! No!
(He and John scramble down the slope, shining their torches at him. Henry stands up and stumbles backwards, waving the pistol vaguely in their direction. His voice is high-pitched and hysterical.)
HENRY Get back. Get – get away from me!
JOHN Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax.
HENRY I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!
JOHN Just put the gun down. It’s okay.
HENRY (his voice hoarse with anguish) No, no, I know what I am!
SHERLOCK (as reassuring as he’ll ever sound) Yes, I’m sure you do, Henry. It’s all been explained to you, hasn’t it – explained very carefully.
HENRY What?
SHERLOCK Someone needed to keep you quiet; needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you’d both clung on to, because you had started to remember. (He begins to step closer to the young man.)
SHERLOCK Remember now, Henry. You’ve got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy.
(Henry’s gun hand begins to droop momentarily but then he raises it again, his face full of his struggle to understand.)
HENRY I thought it had got my dad – the hound. I thought...
(He loses control and begins to scream in anguish.)
HENRY Oh Je... oh Jesus, I don’t – I don’t know any more!
(Sobbing, he bends forward and aims the muzzle into his mouth again.)
JOHN (lurching forward towards him) No, Henry! Henry, for God’s sake!
SHERLOCK (urgently) Henry, remember. “Liberty In.” Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago.
(Henry begins to calm a little but still remains hunched over with the gun’s muzzle against his mouth.)
SHERLOCK You’d started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn’t an animal, was it, Henry?
(Henry starts to straighten up, blinking.)
SHERLOCK Not a monster.
(Henry turns to look at him.)
SHERLOCK A man.
(Henry’s eyes widen as the memories begin to come. In brief flashes he starts to relive the truth. As he has always remembered, his father is scrabbling at the ground as he tries to get away from his attacker, but now for the first time Henry can see that what is pulling him backwards across the earth is not a creature but a man wearing a dark leather old- fashioned gas mask. The glass of the two large eye pieces is tinted a dark red and in the limited light available the eye pieces seem to be glowing. Young Henry watches from partway up the slope, cringing and terrified as the attacker pummels at his father, half strangling him and then punching wildly at his face. Mr. Knight manages to pull himself from under his assailant and starts to crawl away but the other man, growling fiercely, tugs him backwards and Henry’s father loses his balance and falls forward. His head strikes a

rock and he collapses to the ground unmoving. Breathing heavily through the gas mask, the other man pokes at him, realises that he isn’t going to move again and gets to his feet. He looks down at the man he has just killed and young Henry sees the sweatshirt he is wearing, with its picture of a snarling wolf-like creature, the letters H.O.U.N.D. underneath and “Liberty, In” below them. Young Henry’s mind begins to mix everything up and, some hours later as he meets the old lady walking her dog, his new horror is complete as he screams in utter terror.)
(In the present he gapes at Sherlock as the truth reasserts itself in his mind.)
SHERLOCK You couldn’t cope. You were just a child, so you rationalised it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no-one would believe a word that you said.
(Quietly John steps forward, holding out his hand encouragingly towards Henry as Greg Lestrade arrives and calls out as he trots down the slope towards them.)
LESTRADE Sherlock!
JOHN (gently to Henry) Okay, it’s okay, mate.
(He carefully takes the pistol from Henry’s fingers. Henry speaks tearfully to Sherlock.) HENRY But we saw it the hound, last night. We s... we, we, we did, we saw...
SHERLOCK Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it – saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus; that’s how it works.
(Henry stares at him in confusion. Sherlock returns his look sympathetically.)
SHERLOCK But there never was any monster.
(The hound has different ideas, however, and now its anguished howl rings out in the woods above them. Everyone’s head snaps up and John and Greg aim their flashlights upwards to the top of the Hollow where a low shape can be seen slowly stalking along the rim and snarling.)
JOHN Sherlock...
(Sherlock stares up in disbelief as Henry turns to him, horrified.)
HENRY No. (He begins to wail in panic.) No, no, no, no!
(He backs away as Sherlock tries simultaneously to hold out a calming hand towards him while keeping his own torch shining up towards the creature above them.)
SHERLOCK Henry, Henry...
JOHN Sherlock...
(The creature continues to slink along the rim of the Hollow as Henry begins to scream in abject terror. He crumples to his knees, continually screaming, “No!”)
JOHN Henry!
(The hound turns towards the Hollow and looks down at everyone, snarling viciously. Its eyes glow in the torchlight as Henry continues to wail.)
LESTRADE (staring up at the rim) Shit!
(John turns and shines his torch into his face.)
JOHN Greg, are you seeing this?
(Greg glances at him momentarily and his expression answers the question. Sherlock takes a quick look around to the inspector to see his face before turning back to stare up at the hound.)
JOHN Right he is not drugged, Sherlock, so what’s that? What is it?!
(As Henry continues to wail behind them, Sherlock screws his eyes shut for a brief moment, trying to handle the overload in his mind. He stares upwards again.)
SHERLOCK All right! It’s still here...(he pants heavily for a moment before pulling himself together)...but it’s just a dog. Henry! It’s nothing more than an ordinary dog!
(The hound doesn’t think so as it raises its head and let out a long terrifying howl.) LESTRADE (stumbling backwards) Oh my God.

(And now the hound turns and leaps a short way down the slope, its eyes flashing red in the torchlight.)
LESTRADE Oh, Christ!
(John stares at it as it stops again, its red glowing eyes now clearly visible as it opens its mouth and reveals a mouthful of long pointed teeth that you would never see on any dog. Its snarl is completely terrifying. Henry has fallen silent, gazing up at it as if he knows that it is going to kill him shortly. Sherlock is still trying to believe what his own eyes are telling him...and now there’s movement behind them. Sherlock looks over his shoulder and sees a tall human figure through the mist. The new arrival is wearing a breathing mask with a clear visor over his face. Sherlock turns and rushes towards him, grabbing at the mask and ripping it upwards to fully reveal the man’s face...and Jim Moriarty grins manically back at him.)

SHERLOCK (staring at him in appalled horror) No!
(Behind him the hound growls ominously again. Jim’s expression becomes intense and murderous but then his head begins to distort and flail about, morphing between Jim’s face and someone else’s so quickly that it’s impossible to keep up with the changes. Sherlock grimaces, groaning at the insanity going on in front of him as Jim’s face keeps reasserting itself.)
SHERLOCK (frantically) It’s not you! You’re not here!
(Grabbing at the figure, he spins him around and then headbutts him in the face. The figure crumples slightly and raises his hand to his face as he straightens up...and now the man in front of Sherlock is Bob Frankland. Sherlock clings onto his jacket, his breathing panicked and frantic...but then he turns his head to one side and looks at the mist surrounding them as suddenly it all begins to make sense to him.)
SHERLOCK The fog.
JOHN (still aiming his torch up at the hound) What?
SHERLOCK It’s the fog! The drug it’s in the fog! Aerosol dispersal – that’s what it said in those records. Project HOUND – it’s the fog! A chemical minefield!
(Greg instantly throws his arm across his face, trying to stop himself from breathing too much of the mist. The hound stalks closer to the group, snarling.)
FRANKLAND For God’s sake, kill it! Kill it!
(The hound’s movements become more jittery as if it’s winding itself up to attack. Greg aims his pistol and fires three times at it. His bullets fly past it and it flinches momentarily but then rises up and leaps towards them. John’s aim is truer and his bullets strike the hound accurately and throw it backwards as it squeals in pain and crashes to the ground, unmoving.)
(As John and Greg watch it anxiously for any signs of movement, Sherlock runs over to Henry and pushes him towards the hound.)
SHERLOCK Look at it, Henry.
HENRY (digging his heels in) No, no, no!
SHERLOCK (shoving him forward determinedly) Come on, look at it!
(He bullies the young man forward until they can both clearly see it lying on the ground. In Sherlock’s torchlight it is clearly nothing more than a huge dog. Henry stares at it for a moment and then turns back to where Frankland is still holding his injured face while Greg has his hands over his mouth as he tries to draw breath and come to terms with what he just experienced. Henry looks at Frankland.)
HENRY It’s just...you bastard.
(Hurling himself at the older man, he screams with rage.)
HENRY You bastard!
(Bundling him to the ground, he screams into his face as John and Greg run over and try to pull him off.)

HENRY Twenty years! Twenty years of my life making no sense! Why didn’t you just kill me?!
(Finally the others manage to pull him up off.)
SHERLOCK Because dead men get listened to. He needed to do more than kill you. He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father, and he had the means right at his feet – a chemical minefield, pressure pads in the ground dosing you up every time that you came back here.

(He holds his arms out wide and spins slowly in a circle as he gestures around the Hollow.) SHERLOCK Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once.
(He laughs with delight.)
SHERLOCK Oh, this case, Henry! Thank you. It’s been brilliant.

JOHN Sherlock....
SHERLOCK (turning to him) What?
(John glares at him pointedly.)
JOHN Timing.
SHERLOCK Not good?
HENRY No, no, it’s – it’s okay. It’s fine, because this means...
(He starts to step towards Frankland. John moves with him, ready to intervene if he should try to attack him again.)
HENRY ...this means that my dad was right.
(Frankland gets up onto his knees as Henry still tries to move towards him. John and Greg both put a gentle hand onto his shoulders to keep him back.)
HENRY (tearfully) He found something out, didn’t he, and that’s why you’d killed him – because he was right, and he’d found you right in the middle of an experiment.
(Frankland gets to his feet but before he can say anything there’s a savage snarl from behind the group. Everybody spins towards the dog as it whines in pain but gets up off the ground. John aims and fires towards it twice and it goes down again. Frankland takes the opportunity of the distraction to turn and run off in the opposite direction. Like the single- minded idiot that he is, Sherlock runs right across John’s line of fire, forcing him to lower his pistol, and chases off after the scientist. John turns and follows him up the slope.) SHERLOCK Frankland!
(Frankland runs through the woods with Sherlock and John in hot pursuit, Greg and Henry a little behind the other two.)
SHERLOCK Frankland!
LESTRADE (to Henry) Come on, keep up!
(They run on.)
SHERLOCK It’s no use, Frankland!
(Reaching the barbed wire fence surrounding the minefield, Frankland doesn’t hesitate and jumps over. His feet tangle in the wire and he falls to the ground on the other side. He jumps up and runs on a few yards but then stops abruptly as his foot thumps down onto a mine, which makes a distinctive clink indicating that he has activated its pressure pad. He stares down at his foot, shining his torch onto the mine underneath and realising that unless he remains completely still and doesn’t lift any pressure off it, the mine will blow. As the others hurry towards the barbed wire, he raises his head, sighs in resignation and deliberately lifts his foot. The others skid to a halt and duck down as a massive explosion rips into the air. As the blast dies down, Henry sinks back against a nearby tree while Sherlock gazes reflectively across the minefield.)
DAY TIME. CROSS KEYS INN. John is sitting at one of the outdoor tables and, for reasons that I’m sure we’d all like an explanation for, appears to be wearing Sherlock’s Purple Shirt of Sex TM. Billy brings out a plate containing whatever is the vegetarian equivalent of a full English breakfast and puts it on the table in front of him.
JOHN Mmm. Thanks, Billy.

(As Billy walks away, Sherlock brings over two mugs and puts one down on the table.) SHERLOCK So they didn’t have it put down, then – the dog.
JOHN (tucking into his breakfast as Sherlock stands next to him and drinks his coffee) Obviously. Suppose they just couldn’t bring themselves to do it.

SHERLOCK I see.
JOHN (smiling) No you don’t.
SHERLOCK No, I don’t. Sentiment?
JOHN Sentiment!
SHERLOCK (rolling his eyes) Oh.
(He sits down on the bench next to John.)
JOHN Listen what happened to me in the lab?
(Sherlock looks at him for a moment, then turns around and reaches for a box of sauce sachets, looking worried about how he’s ever going to explain all this.)
SHERLOCK Do you want some sauce with that?
JOHN I mean, I hadn’t been to the Hollow, so how come I heard those things in there? Fear and stimulus, you said.
SHERLOCK (rummaging through the box of sachets) You must have been dosed with it elsewhere, when you went to the lab, maybe. You saw those pipes – pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve; and they were carrying the gas, so...Um, ketchup, was it, or brown...?
JOHN Hang on you thought it was in the sugar.
(Sherlock stares at him while trying to maintain a neutral expression.)
JOHN You were convinced it was in the sugar.
(Sherlock looks away again.)
SHERLOCK Better get going, actually. (He looks at his watch.) There’s a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want...
(John turns his head away as he begins to realise the horrible truth.)
JOHN Oh God. It was you. You locked me in that bloody lab.
SHERLOCK I had to. It was an experiment.
JOHN (furiously) An experiment?!
SHERLOCK (looking at people sitting nearby) Shhh.
JOHN (quieter, but still furious) I was terrified, Sherlock. I was scared to death. SHERLOCK I thought that the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee, then I arranged everything with Major Barrymore.
(John sighs in exasperation.)
SHERLOCK It was all totally scientific, laboratory conditions – well, literally.
(Flashback to Sherlock alone in a room from where he can monitor the lab. Lazily sitting in a chair with his feet up on the table, he watches the screen in front of him which shows John racing across the darkened lab towards the cages as the ‘hound’ growls. A little later Sherlock wiggles his feet comfortably on the desk as John breathes panic-stricken into his phone. The footage isn’t showing John because he’s hidden inside the cage.)
JOHN It’s in here with me.
SHERLOCK (into his phone) All right. Keep talking. I’ll find you.
(There’s a momentary silence.)
SHERLOCK (into phone) Keep talking!
JOHN I can’t, it’ll hear me.
SHERLOCK Tell me what you’re seeing!
(He switches on a small recorder and holds it up to a nearby microphone. Savage growling is played into the lab.)
JOHN I don’t know, but I can hear it now.
(Back in the present, Sherlock continues his ‘explanation’.)
SHERLOCK Well, I knew what effect it had had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it on an average one.

(John looks up from his plate.)
SHERLOCK You know what I mean.
(John gets back to eating.)
JOHN But it wasn’t in the sugar.
SHERLOCK No, well, I wasn’t to know you’d already been exposed to the gas. JOHN So you got it wrong.

SHERLOCK No.
JOHN Mmm. You were wrong. It wasn’t in the sugar. You got it wrong.
SHERLOCK A bit. It won’t happen again.
(Sighing, John continues eating, then looks round.)
JOHN Any long-term effects?
SHERLOCK None at all. You’ll be fine once you’ve excreted it. We all will.
JOHN Think I might have taken care of that already.
(Sherlock snorts laughter, then looks across to a nearby table where Gary is pouring coffee for two other customers. He smiles apologetically across to Sherlock, who puts his mug on the table and stands up.)
JOHN Where’re you going?
SHERLOCK Won’t be a minute. Gotta see a man about a dog.
(Smiling down at John, he turns and walks away.)
Jim Moriarty stands silently and calmly in a small concrete-lined cell with his eyes closed. On the other side of the one-way mirror which Jim is facing, Mycroft walks nearer and narrows his eyes as he looks closely at the other man. Behind Jim, the door to the cell is unlocked and he opens his eyes as a man wearing a suit walks in.
MYCROFT All right. Let him go.
(Jim turns and strolls casually out of the cell. Behind him, the man turns and looks around the cell. On almost every plain concrete panel of the walls, Jim has somehow carved a single word into the cement. In different sizes and at different angles, the word repeats all around the cell – and the word is SHERLOCK. And with the dust which was loosened by the carving, he has written Sherlock’s name backwards on the mirror so that whoever is watching him on the other side of the mirror will see the name the right way round. The man in the suit turns and walks away, closing the cell door behind him.) 

에피소드 3 - 라이헨바흐 폭포 The Reichenbach Fall

Sherlock S2 E3.pdf

Sherlock

The Reichenbach Fall
- Season 2, episode 3
John Watson sits in a chair as the rain pours down outside the window and thunder rumbles. He looks tired and his face is full of pain.
ELLA (offscreen) Why today?
(John frowns enquiringly. His therapist is sitting opposite him.)
JOHN Do you want to hear me say it?
ELLA Eighteen months since our last appointment.
JOHN (his voice becoming quietly angry) Do you read the papers?
ELLA Sometimes.
JOHN Mmm, and you watch telly? You know why I’m here.
(There’s a pained groan in his voice as he ends the sentence.)
JOHN I’m here because...
(His voice breaks and he can’t continue. He looks down, swallowing hard as he fights not to weep. Ella leans forward sympathetically.)
ELLA What happened, John?
(John closes his eyes, trying to get control of himself, then looks up at her again, his eyes full of loss. He clears his throat and breathes heavily.)
JOHN (his voice breaking)Sher...
(He can’t continue and he clears his throat again, swallowing hard.)
ELLA (gently)You need to get it out.
JOHN (softly, his voice full of pain and tears)My best friend...,Sherlock Holmes...
(He sniffs, forcing his voice through the anguish.)
JOHN ...is dead.
(He breaks and begins to cry.)
Opening Credits.
THREE MONTHS EARLIER. In an art gallery, the Director of the gallery is finishing his speech as he stands near a painting.
GALLERY DIRECTOR Falls of the Reichenbach, Turner’s masterpiece, thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
(The patrons applaud. Sherlock and John are standing nearby. The Director gives a small gift-wrapped box to Sherlock.)
DIRECTOR A small token of our gratitude.
(Sherlock takes the box and looks at it.)
SHERLOCK Diamond cufflinks. All my cuffs have buttons.
JOHN (to the Director) He means thank you.
SHERLOCK Do I?
JOHN Just say it.
SHERLOCK (insincerely to the Director) Thank you.
(He starts to walk away but John holds him back.)
JOHN Hey.
(Sherlock stops unwillingly as the press start taking photographs. Later, one of the photographs appears in a newspaper article headed “Hero of the Reichenbach”. The straplines read “Turner masterpiece recovered by ‘amateur’ ; “Scotland Yard embarrased [sic] by overlooked clues”. The text of the article reads “A Turner masterpiece worth £1.7million that was stolen from an auction house ten days ago has been recovered by an amateur detective from North London. Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street has been investigating the art crime simply as a hobby, and yet he was able to follow the trail that lead [sic] him to the famous work – a trail that Scotland Yard missed completely. Sherlock Holmes has gained cult following following the publication of his website – The Sci-...” at which point the text disappears offscreen. )

(A new newspaper article reads ”Top Banker Kidnapped” and the text reads ”Sherlock Holmes was last night being hailed a hero yet again for masterminding the daring escape of the kidnapped man. // Scotland Yard had to secretly bring in their special weapon (in the form of Mr Holmes) yet again. The case has drawn a huge amount of attention as the nation became divided about the outcome of the kidnapping. Bankers are certainly not the nations [sic] sweethearts any more, but Mr. Holmes certainly seems to be. As huge crowds gathered for the press conference, Mr Holmes was presented with a gift from...” and then the text disappears offscreen. Outside the banker’s house, the rescued man is standing with his arms around his wife and young son as the press film and photograph them while Sherlock and John stand uncomfortably nearby.)
FATHER Back together with my family after my terrifying ordeal; and we have one person to thank for my deliverance – Sherlock Holmes.
(As the public applaud, the boy smiles and offers a small gift-wrapped box to Sherlock. He takes it and rattles it briefly.)
SHERLOCK (to John) Tie pin. I don’t wear ties.
JOHN Shh.
(A photograph of the scene appears in the next edition of the newspaper, headed “Reichenbach hero finds kidnap victim”.)
(New article ”Ricoletti evades capture”. Your transcriber is already nearing page three of this transcript and is only two and a half minutes into the episode so let’s leave out the text of the article, but it suggests that the man named in the headline was responsible for the banker’s kidnap. We cut to Scotland Yard where D.I. Greg Lestrade is addressing a press conference. Sherlock and John stand nearby, and D.S. Sally Donovan and Doctor WhoCaresWhatHisFirstNameIs Anderson are at the back of the room.)
LESTRADE Peter Ricoletti, number one on Interpol’s Most Wanted list since nineteen eighty-two. But we got him; and there’s one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads... with all his customary diplomacy and tact.
(Sherlock smiles insincerely towards Greg while John leans closer to Sherlock and speaks quietly.)
JOHN Sarcasm.
SHERLOCK Yes.
(As the press applaud, Greg walks over to Sherlock and gives him a gift-wrapped package, smiling cheerfully.)
LESTRADE We all chipped in.
(As Sherlock tears open the wrapping paper, Sally and Anderson grin expectantly. He pulls out a deerstalker hat.)
SHERLOCK (trying to smile) Oh!
FIRST REPORTER Put the hat on!
SECOND REPORTER Put the hat on!
LESTRADE Yeah, Sherlock, put it on!
(Sherlock looks at the reporters as if he’d like to kill them. John clears his throat uncomfortably.)
JOHN (quietly) Just get it over with.
(Glowering at him, Sherlock shoves the wrapping paper into his hands, then unhappily puts the hat on his head. Flashbulbs go mad and everyone applauds. At the back of the room, Sally claps with sarcastic delight as Anderson, the douche, grins smugly. Sherlock smiles at the press through gritted teeth and glances at Greg as if promising him a world of pain later.)
(Some time later, the “Daily Star” prints a World Exclusive on its front page ”Boffin Sherlock solves another” with the strapline ”Hero ’Tec cracks ‘unsolvable’ case”.)

221B BAKER STREET. John is sitting on the sofa reading the papers while Sherlock, wearing his blue dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, stomps across the room and throws the Daily Star onto the pile of newspapers on the coffee table.
SHERLOCK (indignantly) “Boffin”. “Boffin Sherlock Holmes”.

JOHN Everybody gets one.
SHERLOCK One what?
JOHN Tabloid nickname ‘SuBo’; ‘Nasty Nick’. Shouldn’t worry – I’ll probably get one soon. SHERLOCK Page five, column six, first sentence.
(John turns to the relevant page. Sherlock goes over to the fireplace, picks up the deerstalker, holds it up and punches it angrily.)
SHERLOCK Why is it always the hat photograph?
JOHN (looking at the newspaper article) “Bachelor John Watson”?
SHERLOCK What sort of hat is it anyway?
JOHN “Bachelor”? What the hell are they implying?
SHERLOCK (holding up the hat and twisting it back and forth rapidly) Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?
JOHN (glancing up briefly) It’s a deerstalker. (He reads more of the article.) “Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson...”
SHERLOCK You stalk a deer with a hat? What are you gonna do – throw it?
JOHN (looking at another part of the article) “...confirmed bachelor John Watson”! SHERLOCK Some sort of death frisbee?
JOHN Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful.
SHERLOCK It’s got flaps...,ear flaps. It’s an ear hat, John.
(He accurately skims the hat across the room to John, who doesn’t even have to lift his hand to catch it.)
SHERLOCK What do you mean, “more careful”?
JOHN I mean this isn’t a deerstalker now; it’s a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you’re not exactly a private detective any more. (He holds his thumb and forefinger an inch apart.) You’re this far from famous.
SHERLOCK Oh, it’ll pass.
(He slumps down into his armchair and folds his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth.)
JOHN It’d better pass. The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn, and they’ll turn on you.
(Sherlock lowers his hands and looks more closely at John.)
SHERLOCK It really bothers you.
JOHN What?
SHERLOCK What people say.
JOHN Yes.
SHERLOCK About me? I don’t understand – why would it upset you?
(John holds his gaze for a moment, then looks away.)
JOHN Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news.
TOWER OF LONDON 11 : 00
Tourists are walking about in the grounds, looking around, talking to the Beefeaters, taking photographs. One tourist wearing jeans, trainers, a light grey jacket and a cap with “London” printed on it and with a union flag on the peak is aiming his camera phone around and taking pictures like all the others, but this one appears to be more interested in the security staff than anything else. The other thing that piques his interest is the sign pointing the way to the Crown Jewels. He lowers his camera, chewing nonchalantly on a piece of gum, and we see that this is none other than Jim Moriarty.

At 221B, a phone in the living room trills a text alert. Sherlock is sitting at the table in the kitchen, looking into his microscope. John comes along the corridor leading from Sherlock’s bedroom with wet hair, wearing a bathrobe and towelling the back of his neck dry.

JOHN It’s your phone.
SHERLOCK (disinterestedly) Mm. Keeps doing that.
(John walks into the living room past the body in a suit which is hanging by its neck from the ceiling and sits down in his chair, picking up a newspaper. The body sways gently in the breeze.)
JOHN So, did you just talk to him for a really long time?
(Sherlock looks up and glances across to the body. We realise that it’s not a real person but a mannequin.)
SHERLOCK Oh. Henry Fishgard never committed suicide.
(He picks up an old hardback book from the table and slams it shut in a flurry of dust before going back to his microscope.)
SHERLOCK Bow Street Runners missed everything.
JOHN Pressing case, is it?
SHERLOCK They’re all pressing ’til they’re solved.
At the White Tower in the Tower of London, tourists are passing through a metal detector on their way to see the Crown Jewels. A security man gives some items back to a tourist. SECURITY MAN Put this in your bag, please.
(Jim walks through the detector which beeps an alarm.)
SECURITY MAN Excuse me, sir.
(Still chewing on his gum, Jim stops and steps back again.)
SECURITY MAN Any metal objects – keys, mobile phones?
(Smiling apologetically, Jim takes his phone out of his pocket and puts it into the tray.) SECURITY MAN You can go through.
(Jim steps through the detector again, which stays silent this time. The security man slides the tray across and Jim takes the phone again.)
SECURITY MAN Thank you.
(Jim walks on and enters the room. He stops at the large display case in the middle of the room and looks at the throne inside the case. On the throne is a red velvet cushion with an ornate crown resting on it. An equally ornate orb is balanced on one arm of the throne and a sceptre rests across the other arm. As other tourists walk around the case, Jim takes a pair of earphones from his pocket and pokes them into his ears. Bending his head from side to side to crack his neck, he lifts his phone and switches it on, then closes his eyes in bliss, still rolling his head on his neck and spreading his arms either side of him and then slowly beginning to lower them as the Overture to Rossini’s “The Thieving Magpie” begins to play.)
(In the nearby surveillance room, one of the two men watching the security footage from all around the Tower turns to his colleague.)
SURVEILLANCE MAN 1 Fancy a cuppa, then, mate?
SURVEILLANCE MAN 2 Yeah, why not?
(The first man gets up and walks away.)
BANK OF ENGLAND 11:00
A man brings a tray containing a cup and saucer and a milk jug into the office of the bank’s Director.
BANK DIRECTOR (looking at his computer screen) Gilts at seven; Dutch telecoms in freefall. Thank you, Harvey.
(Harvey puts the tray down onto the table and leaves the room again.)
PENTONVILLE PRISON 11:00

The prison’s governor, with an enormous “Keep calm and carry on” mug full of tea on his desk, slams a file down onto his desk as several warders sit or stand nearby.
PRISON GOVERNOR What do you say refuse them all parole and bring back the rope. Let’s begin.

At the Tower, Jim finishes lowering his arms and then lifts up the phone and scrolls through the app icons on it. He pushes aside the one that has a cartoon of a prisoner with striped prison clothes and standing behind bars, scrolls past the one of a piggy bank with the English flag on it, and selects the one with a crown on it. The icon of the crown unfolds like a padlock being unlocked and digital code begins to stream out into the air, and in the surveillance room alarms begin to beep in warning as some of the TV screens go blank. An automated voice plays into the White Tower.

VOICE (repeatedly) This is an emergency. Please leave the building.
(The tourists start to hurry out of the room. A security guard walks over to Jim, assuming that he can’t hear the alarm through his earphones, and puts a hand on his shoulder to attract his attention.)
SECURITY GUARD Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.
(Jim turns and sprays something into his face and he immediately collapses unconscious. The security door closes and locks, and Jim takes his cap off and smoothes his hair out. In the surveillance room, the man slams down the cups of tea he was bringing back and grabs a phone as he starts to dial.)
At Scotland Yard, Sally Donovan hurries across the office and opens the door to Greg’s office.
DONOVAN Sir, there’s been a break-in.
(Greg has his feet up on the desk and is drinking coffee and eating a pastry.)
LESTRADE (with his mouth full) Not our division.
DONOVAN You’ll want it.
At the White Tower, Jim scrolls through the apps on his phone and selects the English piggy bank. The piggy bank breaks open to reveal many gold coins, and digital code streams out into the air. At the Bank of England, the Director looks down at the cup of tea he is holding as the liquid inside begins to shimmer and the building vibrates gently.
BANK DIRECTOR The vault!
(Alarms blare and his screen flashes the alarm “VAULT OPENING” as a graphic shows the door to the vault swinging slowly open. The Director’s jaw drops and he stares in disbelief, his tea cup slowly tilting in his hand until the tea pours out into his lap.)
Greg is driving Sally across the river with sirens blaring. Sally has just got an update on her phone.
LESTRADE Hacked into the Tower of bloody London security?! How?!
(Sally’s phone rings and she answers it.)
LESTRADE Tell them we’re already on our way.
DONOVAN There’s been another one; another break-in.
(Greg stares across at her as she listens.)
DONOVAN Bank of England!
At the White Tower, Jim is chomping on his gum as he flamboyantly scrawls a message onto the glass of the display case. Finishing the message – which we can’t yet clearly see – he draws a smiley face inside the letter “O”. Lifting his phone once more, he selects the app with the prisoner on it. The bars over the prisoner lift away and the striped jacket which the icon is wearing turns into a plain black one, then the image changes to a keyhole. Digital code streams out into the air. In Pentonville Prison, the governor is just lifting his mug to his mouth as alarms begin to sound. A prison warder bursts into the room. PRISON WARDER Sir, security’s down, sir. It’s failing!
(The governor surges to his feet, accidentally sweeping his mug off the table and onto the floor.)

On the road, Sally gets another phonecall. Greg looks across to her. LESTRADE What is it now?
DONOVAN Pentonville Prison!
(Greg stares at her in disbelief.)

LESTRADE Oh no!
At the White Tower, Jim holds his piece of chewing gum between his teeth and pulls the end of it out towards the case and sticks it onto the glass. Leaving the whole piece of gum stuck there, he takes a tiny diamond from a box and, grinning manically, carefully presses the jewel into the gum. Turning away from the case, he slips his jacket off and drops it to the floor, revealing a plain white V-necked T-shirt underneath, then raises his arms upwards either side above his head in an almost balletic flourish. Outside, police cars and vans begin to pour into the Tower grounds. Jim continues to dance around the White Tower while outside, the last of the tourists are hustled out of the building. Pulling black leather mitts onto his hands, Jim goes to the wall and picks up a fire extinguisher. Outside, armed police leap out of a van and run into the Tower. Inside, Jim dances dramatically towards the case, raises the fire extinguisher with the bottom end pointed towards the glass and, grinning happily, rams it towards the chewing gum and diamond. The glass shatters around the impact point. The armed police charge through the metal detector, repeatedly setting the alarm off. Jim smashes the extinguisher into the glass a couple more times and eventually the entire pane disintegrates and falls to the floor.
Greg’s car screams into the grounds and he and Sally jump out and race into the White Tower. Inside, the armed police disable the lock to the door and it swings open. They charge inside and are greeted by the sight of Jim Moriarty sitting on the throne inside the case, wearing an ermine trimmed robe, the crown on his head, the orb between his knees and holding the sceptre across his lap, with his earphones still in. He has his eyes closed in bliss as the music comes to an end. He opens his eyes and smiles at the new arrivals. JIM (calmly) No rush.
221B. Sherlock’s phone trills another text alert. John lowers his newspaper.
JOHN (tetchily) I’ll get it, shall I?
(He gets up and walks over to the phone, picking it up and checking the message as Sherlock continues to look into his microscope. John’s face slowly fills with shock. He turns and takes the phone to the kitchen, holding it out to Sherlock.)
JOHN Here.
SHERLOCK (not looking up) Not now, I’m busy.
JOHN Sherlock....
SHERLOCK Not now.
JOHN (breathing heavily) He’s back.
(Sherlock lifts his head and takes the phone. The message reads
Come and play.
Tower Hill.
Jim Moriarty x.
Sherlock’s eyes widen and he sinks back on his chair and gazes into space.)
Back at the Tower, Jim is smiling calmly as he is being put into the back of a police car. Behind him, Greg and Sally come out of the building and watch, then Greg looks down at Jim’s phone which he is holding.
Later, Sherlock and John have arrived at the Tower and they are watching the recorded security footage taken from behind Jim as he sticks the gum onto the glass. From a distance it’s not clear what he then pushes into the gum.
LESTRADE That glass is tougher than anything.
SHERLOCK Not tougher than crystallised carbon. He used a diamond.
(Greg adjusts the footage, which shifts to a recording taken from the other side of the glass. The footage also goes into reverse, showing the glass rising back up into place

before it shattered. As Jim pulls the fire extinguisher back again and the glass becomes whole, the message which he scrawled onto it becomes clear. He deliberately wrote the words backwards on the glass so that they would be seen from the camera on the other side of the case. With the smiley face inside the “O”, the message reads

GET
SHERLOCK
John turns and stares at Sherlock but his eyes are fixed on the screen.)
Nina Simone’s song “Sinnerman” plays over the next few scenes.
The “Daily Express” has somehow obtained the security image with the message clear on the glass, and has run it on its front page with the headline “Crime of the Century?” The rest of the text reads “Questions are being asked in parliament as to how the Tower of London, Pentonville Prison and the Bank of England were all broken into at the same time by the same man – James Moriarty. // There are unconfirmed reports that Scotland Yard’s favourite sleuth Mr Sherlock Holmes has been called in to help the team piece together the most audacious crime... Turn to page 5”.
Some indeterminate time later a new front page headline reads ”Jewel Thief on trial at Bailey” and the first few paragraphs read ”Crown Jewel thief is to be tried at the Old Bailey and Sherlock Holmes is named as a witness for the prosecution. // Master criminal Moriarty taunted Holmes with his graffitied GET SHERLOCK at the scene of the crime. The crime is attracting huge attention internationally too. // Irish born Moriarty – of no fixed abode, seems to be taunting the master detective. // Boffin Holmes, accompanied by confirmed bachelor John Watson – refused to comment. // Crowds gathered yesterday for what is being described as the trial of the century.”
“The Guardian” leads with the headline ”Amateur detective to be called as expert witness” and the strapline ”Scotland Yard calls upon ‘nation’s favourite detective’ in Moriarty trail”. The picture is of Sherlock putting on the deerstalker hat at the Scotland Yard press conference and the text reads ”In a twist worthy of a Conan Doyle novella, Mr Sherlock Holmes was yesterday revealed to be an expert witness at the trial of ‘Jim’ Moriarty. Described by many commentators as the trial of the century, the case has all the ingredients of a block buster film. The royal family, Scotland yard [sic], the world of finance and greed, the ‘underclass’ of prisoners out to reek [sic] revenge as they enjoy their own fifteen minutes of freedom. The case is riddled with irony and intrigue but perhaps reflects a deeper malaise that seems to be at the heart of a society. // Mr Holmes, a man of few words, declined to comment when asked his involvement in the case. It is understood that a woefully depleted Scotland...” [and then the text goes off the screen].
221B. John is standing in front of the mirror in the living room. He is wearing a suit and finishes tying his tie before putting his jacket on. Near the sofa, Sherlock is buttoning up his own jacket. Your transcriber bites her lip. Sherlock leads the way downstairs and goes to the front door, then stops and turns to the side to allow John to pass him and reach out towards the door.
JOHN Ready?
SHERLOCK Yes.
(Bracing himself, John opens the door. Police officers are trying to hold back the large crowd of journalists who immediately start photographing the pair and calling out questions as the police clear the way and allow the boys through to the waiting police car. They get into the back and the car pulls away and races off with its sirens wailing.)
(At the Old Bailey, Jim is in a cell wearing a smart light grey suit, white shirt and pale grey tie and silver tie pin with matching grey handkerchief in the breast pocket. A prison guard is checking the handcuffs which shackle him to two nearby officers. Not long afterwards and surrounded by prison officers, he is being escorted along the corridors towards the court. As he walks along, a small smile begins to creep onto his face.)
(The police car is just going around Trafalgar Square.)

JOHN Remember....
SHERLOCK (instantly) Yes.
JOHN (insistently) Remember....
SHERLOCK (even more quickly) Yes.
(John looks away in frustration, then goes for broke and speaks quickly.)
JOHN Remember what they told you don’t try to be clever...
SHERLOCK (talking over him) No.
JOHN ...and please, just keep it simple and brief.
SHERLOCK God forbid the star witness at the trial should come across as intelligent. JOHN ‘Intelligent’, fine; let’s give ‘smart-arse’ a wide berth.
(There’s a slight pause.)
SHERLOCK I’ll just be myself.
JOHN (irritated) Are you listening to me?!
(At the Old Bailey Jim is marched up the stairs into the courtroom, two prison officers holding him by the shoulders. Outside, TV reporters are talking into various cameras as they record pieces for the news programmes.)
ITN REPORTER ...here today standing outside...
SKY NEWS REPORTER ...This is the trial of the century...
BBC NEWS REPORTER ...the trial of James Moriarty...
(We see brief clips of their broadcasts as seen on television.)
SKY NEWS REPORTER ...James Moriarty, earlier today accused of attempt...
ITN REPORTER ...of attempting to steal the Crown Jewels...
BBC NEWS REPORTER ...at the Old Bailey we have Reichenbach Hero Sherlock Holmes...
(Jim and his prison escort reach the top of the stairs and he is turned sideways and walked into the dock. As a female prison officer comes across to check his restraints, he turns his head and murmurs into her ear.)
JIM Would you mind slipping your hand into my pocket?
(The officer looks at one of her male colleagues, who nods in agreement. Looking rather uncomfortable, she slides her fingers into Jim’s trouser pocket and pulls out the contents as Jim breathes very close to her face and gazes into her eyes before poking his tongue out. She puts what she has found in his pocket – a piece of chewing gum – onto his tongue and he draws his tongue back in and begins to chew, smiling at her creepily.)
JIM Thanks.
Sherlock is in the toilets at the Old Bailey washing his hands.
TANNOY ANNOUNCEMENT Crown versus Moriarty – please proceed to Court Ten.
(As he turns off the taps, a woman standing behind him and wearing a deerstalker hat stares at him in awestruck amazement as her bag slips out of her fingers and drops to the floor.)
KITTY You’re him.
(Sherlock realises that as well as the hat she’s also wearing an “I (heart) Sherlock” badge.) SHERLOCK Wrong toilet.
KITTY I’m a big fan.
SHERLOCK (turning towards her) Evidently.
KITTY I read your cases; follow them all. (She steps closer, gazing at him adoringly.) Sign my shirt, would you?
(She peels back her coat to reveal that her blouse is opened quite low and she is showing a lot of cleavage. She offers him a pen which she already has in her hand.)
SHERLOCK There are two types of fans.
KITTY Oh?
SHERLOCK “Catch me before I kill again” – Type A...
KITTY Uh-huh. What’s Type B?

SHERLOCK “Your bedroom’s just a taxi ride away.”
(Kitty grins, her eyes still locked on his.)
KITTY Guess which one I am.
(Sherlock runs his eyes down her body and does a speed deduction pressure marks

pocket
ink
He has the answer instantly.)
SHERLOCK Neither.
KITTY (blinking a little nervously) Really?
SHERLOCK No. You’re not a fan at all.
(He looks at the indentations just below her right wrist.)
SHERLOCK Those marks on your forearm edge of a desk. You’ve been typing in a hurry, probably. Pressure on; facing a deadline.
KITTY (looking away) That all?
SHERLOCK And there’s a smudge of ink on your wrist; and a bulge in your left jacket pocket.
(He and Kitty look down to her pocket from which is protruding the edge of a dictaphone, which has a red light shining on it showing that it’s recording.)
KITTY Bit of a giveaway.
SHERLOCK The smudge is deliberate, to see if I’m as good as they say I am.
(He lifts her hand and sniffs the ink on her wrist.)
SHERLOCK Hmm. Oil-based; used in newspaper print, but drawn on with an index finger; your finger.
KITTY Hmm!
SHERLOCK Journalist. Unlikely you’d get your hands dirty at the press. You put that there to test me.
KITTY Wow, I’m liking you!
SHERLOCK You mean I’d make a great feature “Sherlock Holmes – the man beneath the hat”.
KITTY Kitty...(she takes the hat off)...Riley. Pleased to meet you.
(She offers her hand for him to shake.)
SHERLOCK No. I’m just saving you the trouble of asking. No, I won’t give you an interview; no, I don’t want the money.
(Pushing past her, he heads for the door. She chases after him.)
KITTY You and John Watson – just platonic? Can I put you down for a “no” there, as well? (She stops him from opening the door and gets in his way, stepping well into his personal space. He breathes loudly and angrily.)
KITTY There’s all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you’re gonna need someone on your side...
(Reaching into her pocket, she holds up her business card and then tucks it into his breast pocket.)
KITTY ...someone to set the record straight.
SHERLOCK (smiling sarcastically) And you think you’re the girl for that job, do you? KITTY I’m smart, and you can trust me, totally.
SHERLOCK Smart, okay investigative journalist. Good. Well, look at me and tell me what you see.
(She stares at him blankly, perhaps a little overwhelmed by the way he is swaying gently in front of her.)
SHERLOCK If you’re that skilful, you don’t need an interview. You can just read what you need.
(She looks awkward and can’t continue to meet his eyes.)

SHERLOCK No? Okay, my turn.
(He paces around her as he looks her over.)
SHERLOCK (quickfire) I look at you and I see someone who’s still waiting for their first big scoop so that their editor will notice them. You’re wearing an expensive skirt but it’s been re-hemmed twice; only posh skirt you’ve got. And your nails you can’t afford to do them that often. I see someone who’s hungry. I don’t see smart, and I definitely don’t see trustworthy, but I’ll give you a quote if you like – three little words.
(He reaches down and takes the dictaphone from her pocket, holding it up to his mouth as she steps closer hopefully.)
SHERLOCK (slowly, deliberately) You...repel...me.
(He turns and leaves the room.)
OLD BAILEY, COURT TEN. Sherlock has been called to give his evidence and is standing in the witness box. Jim is in the dock opposite him, still nonchalantly chewing on his gum. John is sitting in the public gallery upstairs.
PROSECUTING BARRISTER A “consulting criminal”.
SHERLOCK Yes.
PROSECUTING BARRISTER Your words. Can you expand on that answer?
SHERLOCK James Moriarty is for hire.
PROSECUTING BARRISTER A tradesman?
SHERLOCK Yes.
PROSECUTING 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.
(There’s muffled laughter from some people in the court, and the prosecuting barrister tries to hide her smile.)
PROSECUTING BARRISTER Would you describe him as...
SHERLOCK (interrupting) Leading.
PROSECUTING BARRISTER What?
SHERLOCK Can’t do that. You’re leading the witness. (He looks towards the defending barrister.) He’ll object and the judge will uphold.
(The judge looks exasperated – clearly this isn’t the first time Sherlock has done this during his evidence.)
JUDGE Mr. Holmes.
SHERLOCK (to the prosecuting barrister) Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?
JUDGE Mr. Holmes, we’re fine without your help.
(Kitty comes into the public gallery. John looks round at her as she finds a seat.) PROSECUTING BARRISTER How would you describe this man – his character? SHERLOCK First mistake. (He raises his eyes and locks his gaze onto Jim.) James Moriarty isn’t a man at all – he’s a spider; a spider at the centre of a web – a criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.
(Jim almost imperceptibly nods his head in approval of the description. The prosecuting barrister clears her throat awkwardly.)
PROSECUTING BARRISTER And how long...
SHERLOCK (closing his eyes in exasperation) No, no, don’t-don’t do that. That’s really not a good question.
JUDGE (angrily) Mr. Holmes.
SHERLOCK How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; he tried to blow me up. (Sarcastically) I felt we had a special something.
(Jim raises his eyebrows in an “ooh!” expression.)

JUDGE Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert, after knowing the accused for just five minutes?
SHERLOCK Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample.
JUDGE Mr. Holmes, that’s a matter for the jury.

SHERLOCK Oh, really?
(His eyes turn towards the jury box. John raises his hand to his head in an all-too- recognisable “oh, shit, NO!” gesture. Sherlock turns the full force of his gaze onto the twelve people sitting in the jury box and has deduced all of them within a couple of seconds.)
SHERLOCK One librarian; two teachers; two high-pressured jobs, probably the City.
(He focuses on the woman at the far left of the front row. She has a notebook resting on the ledge in front of her and is writing in shorthand.)
SHERLOCK The foreman’s a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand. JUDGE Mr. Holmes!
SHERLOCK (scanning rings on the jury members’ fingers) Seven are married and two are having an affair – with each other, it would seem! Oh, and they’ve just had tea and biscuits.
(He turns to the judge.)
SHERLOCK Would you like to know who ate the wafer?
JUDGE (angrily) Mr. Holmes. You’ve been called here to answer Miss Sorrel’s questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess.
(Sherlock takes a breath but can’t help smiling a little at the acknowledgement of his ‘intellectual prowess’. John stares at him sternly.)
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? (Sherlock pauses as he gives the question some thought, then opens his mouth.)
Shortly afterwards, a prison officer marches Sherlock into one of the cells under the courts and shoves him inside, slamming the door shut behind him. A recess has apparently been called in the trial and so a little later two more officers walk Jim to the adjoining cell and lock him inside. As if sensing each other, the two men turn and look at the wall separating them. Jim’s expression slowly becomes murderous.
Some time later Sherlock is being released. As he signs for his personal property, John is standing beside him leaning back on the desk with his arms folded.
JOHN What did I say? I said, “Don’t get clever.”
SHERLOCK I can’t just turn it on and off like a tap.
(Taking the bag of items from the custody officer, he turns to John.)
SHERLOCK Well?
JOHN Well what?
SHERLOCK You were there for the whole thing, up in the gallery, start to finish.
JOHN Like you said it would be...(referring to Jim’s defending barrister) ...he sat on his backside, never even stirred.
SHERLOCK Moriarty’s not mounting any defence.
221B. The boys walk into the living room.
JOHN Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville. Three of the most secure places in the country and six weeks ago Moriarty breaks in, no-one knows how or why.
(He sits down in his armchair as Sherlock begins to pace.)
JOHN All we know is...
SHERLOCK ...he ended up in custody.
(He stops and turns to John. John takes a breath.)
JOHN Don’t do that.
SHERLOCK Do what?
JOHN The look.

SHERLOCK Look?
JOHN You’re doing the look again.
SHERLOCK Well, I can’t see it, can I?
(John points to the mirror on the wall as if Sherlock’s an idiot for not realising it’s there. Sherlock turns his head and looks at his reflection.)
SHERLOCK It’s my face.
JOHN Yes, and it’s doing a thing. You’re doing a “we both know what’s really going on here” face.
SHERLOCK Well, we do.
JOHN No. I don’t, which is why I find The Face so annoying.
SHERLOCK If Moriarty wanted the Jewels, he’d have them. If he wanted those prisoners free, they’d be out on the streets. The only reason he’s still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there.
(He starts to pace again.)
SHERLOCK Somehow this is part of his scheme.
NEXT DAY (presumably, as there can’t be that many more witnesses for the prosecution) . OLD BAILEY.
JUDGE Mr. Crayhill, can we have your first witness?
(The defending barrister rises to his feet.)
DEFENDING BARRISTER Your Honour, we’re not calling any witnesses.
(There are cries of surprise around the court, and John – sitting in the public gallery – frowns in confusion.)
JUDGE I don’t follow. You’ve entered a plea of Not Guilty.
DEFENDING BARRISTER Nevertheless, my client is offering no evidence. The defence rests.
(He sits down. Jim purses his lips ruefully at the judge, then turns and looks up to John, shrugging at him.)
Not long afterwards, Sherlock – who chose to stay back at home – sits up sideways on the sofa with his back against the arm nearest the window. Wearing his blue dressing gown over his clothes, he softly recites the only words that the judge can possibly say in his summing-up speech. His recitation is interspersed with the actual words from the judge, and frequently their lines overlap.
SHERLOCK/JUDGE Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. James Moriarty stands accused of several counts of attempted burglary, crimes which – if he’s found guilty – will elicit a very long custodial sentence; and yet his legal team has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever to support their plea. I find myself in the unusual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must find him guilty.
(Sherlock closes his eyes.)
SHERLOCK (in a whisper) Guilty.
JUDGE You must find him guilty.
(The court adjourns at 10 42. At 10 50 John is sitting on a bench just outside the courtroom when the Clerk of the Court hurries out of a side room.)
CLERK They’re coming back.
(John looks at his watch.)
JOHN That’s six minutes.
CLERK Surprised it took them that long, to be honest. There’s a queue for the loo.
(He hurries into the court. John stands up, takes a moment to brace himself and then follows. A few minutes later the Clerk rises to his feet in the courtroom and turns to face the jury.)
CLERK Have you reached a verdict on which you all agree?
(One of the jury members lowers his head and shakes it in tiny despairing motions as the foreman gets to her feet and stares at the Clerk unhappily.)

At 221B, Sherlock’s phone begins to ring. His eyes snap open. Outside the court, John is hurrying along the pavement.
JOHN (into phone) Not Guilty. They found him Not Guilty. No defence, and Moriarty’s walked free.

(Sherlock lowers his phone.)
JOHN (into phone) Sherlock. Are you listening? He’s out. You-you know he’ll be coming after you. Sher....
(Sherlock switches the phone off and gets up off the sofa. In the kitchen he switches on the kettle and slams down a small tray beside it, putting a jug of milk, a sugar bowl, a teapot and two cups and saucers with teaspoons onto the tray. The kettle comes to the boil and switches off and Sherlock, now wearing a jacket in place of the dressing gown, makes the tea and takes the tray to the table beside John’s chair, then walks over to his own chair and picks up his violin and bow. As he begins to play Bach’s Sonata No. 1 in G minor, downstairs the front door is expertly lockpicked and pushed open. Jim’s easily- recognisable shadow precedes him as he slowly walks along the hall and up the stairs. Partway up, one of the stairs creaks noisily and Jim pauses for a moment, as does Sherlock’s playing. A couple of seconds later Sherlock resumes from a few notes before where he stopped and Jim starts to climb the stairs again. Sherlock, standing with his back to the living room door, keeps playing until Jim pushes open the door, then he stops but doesn’t yet turn around.)
SHERLOCK Most people knock. (He shrugs.) But then you’re not most people, I suppose. (He gestures over his shoulder with his bow towards the table.)
SHERLOCK Kettle’s just boiled.
(Jim walks further into the room and bends to pick up an apple from the bowl on the coffee table.)
JIM Johann Sebastian would be appalled.
(Tossing the apple and catching it [in an Arthur Shappey-like attempt to be really happy for a brief moment], he looks around the living room as if searching for a seat.)
JIM May I?
SHERLOCK (turning to face him) Please.
(He gestures with the end of his bow towards John’s chair. Jim immediately walks over to Sherlock’s chair and sits in that one instead. Sherlock looks slightly unnerved. Jim takes out a small penknife and starts to cut into the apple as Sherlock puts down the violin and begins to pour tea into the cups.)
JIM You know when he was on his death bed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end...
SHERLOCK ...and the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it.
JIM Couldn’t cope with an unfinished melody.
SHERLOCK Neither can you. That’s why you’ve come.
JIM But be honest you’re just a tiny bit pleased.
SHERLOCK What, with the verdict?
(He picks up one of the teacups, adds a splash of milk and turns and offers the cup to Jim, who sits up straighter and takes it.)
JIM With me...(softly)...back on the streets. (He gazes up into Sherlock’s eyes, smiling.) Every fairy-tale needs a good old-fashioned villain.
(He grins. Sherlock turns away and adds milk to his own cup.)
JIM You need me, or you’re nothing. Because we’re just alike, you and I – except you’re boring.
(He shakes his head in disappointment.)
JIM You’re on the side of the angels.
(He sips his tea as Sherlock picks up his own cup and stirs his drink.)

SHERLOCK Got to the jury, of course.
JIM I got into the Tower of London; you think I can’t worm my way into twelve hotel rooms? SHERLOCK Cable network.
(Flashback to the foreman of the jury in her hotel room sitting on the side of the bed and looking at her TV screen.)
JIM (voiceover) Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen...
(Close-up of the TV screen showing the Westhampton Hotel’s Information Service. At the top of the page the message reads “Hello Ms Williams”. The information underneath instantly changes to a photograph of two young children and a baby. A message in red above the photograph reads, “IF YOU WANT YOUR BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN TO STAY BEAUTIFUL THEN FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS”)
JIM (voiceover) ...and every person has their pressure point; someone that they want to protect from harm.
(The foreman stares at the TV screen in horror. At 221B, Jim lifts his teacup to his mouth again.)
JIM (softly) Easy-peasy.
(By now Sherlock has unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in John’s chair. In a perhaps unconscious mimicking of the man seated opposite him, he too has his cup lifted close to his mouth.)
SHERLOCK So how’re you going to do it...
(He pointedly blows gently on his tea.)
SHERLOCK ...burn me?
JIM (softly) Oh, that’s the problem – the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet? (Sherlock has taken a sip of his tea and looks across his cup to the other man.)
JIM What’s the final problem?
(He smiles across his own cup.)
JIM I did tell you...(sing-song but still softly)...but did you listen?
(He takes another sip of tea and then puts the cup down into the saucer. Putting his hand onto his knee, he starts idly drumming his fingers. Sherlock’s eyes lower to watch the movement.)
JIM (still drumming his fingers) How hard do you find it, having to say “I don’t know”? (Sherlock puts his cup into its saucer and shrugs.)
SHERLOCK (nonchalantly) I don’t no.
JIM Oh, that’s clever; that’s very clever; awfully clever.
(He chuckles in an upper class tone as Sherlock smiles humourlessly while putting his cup back onto the tray.)
JIM Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?
SHERLOCK Told them what?
JIM Why I broke into all those places and never took anything.
SHERLOCK No.
JIM But you understand.
SHERLOCK Obviously.
JIM Off you go, then.
(He has carved a piece off his apple and puts it into his mouth with the flat of his penknife.) SHERLOCK You want me to tell you what you already know?
JIM No; I want you to prove that you know it.
SHERLOCK You didn’t take anything because you don’t need to.
JIM (softly) Good.
SHERLOCK You’ll never need to take anything ever again.
JIM Very good. Because...?

SHERLOCK Because nothing...nothing in the Bank of England, the Tower of London or Pentonville Prison could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three.
JIM I can open any door anywhere with a few tiny lines of computer code. No such thing as a private bank account now – they’re all mine. No such thing as secrecy – I own secrecy. Nuclear codes – I could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king; and honey, you should see me in a crown.

(He smiles in delight at Sherlock.)
SHERLOCK You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do.
JIM And you were helping. Big client list rogue governments, intelligence communities... terrorist cells. They all want me.
(He lifts another piece of apple to his mouth with the penknife.)
JIM Suddenly, I’m Mr. Sex.
SHERLOCK If you could break any bank, what do you care about the highest bidder?
JIM I don’t. I just like to watch them all competing. “Daddy loves me the best!” Aren’t ordinary people adorable? Well, you know you’ve got John. I should get myself a live-in one.
SHERLOCK Why are you doing all of this?
JIM (still thinking about having a live-in ordinary person) It’d be so funny.
SHERLOCK You don’t want money or power – not really.
(Jim digs the point of his penknife into the apple.)
SHERLOCK What is it all for?
JIM (sitting forward and speaking softly) I want to solve the problem – our problem; the final problem.
(He lowers his head.)
JIM It’s gonna start very soon, Sherlock the fall.
(In a cut-away moment, he raises his head and whistles a slowly descending note as he gradually looks down towards the floor.)
JIM But don’t be scared. Falling’s just like flying except there’s a more permanent destination.
(In the cut-away, his gaze reaches the floor and he makes the sound of something thudding to the ground. Raising his head slowly, he glowers across at Sherlock, who bares his teeth slightly and then stands and buttons his jacket.)
SHERLOCK Never liked riddles.
(Jim stands as well and straightens his jacket, locking his gaze onto Sherlock’s eyes.)
JIM Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I...owe...you.
(He continues to gaze at Sherlock for about six seconds, sealing his promise, then slowly turns and walks away. Sherlock doesn’t move as Jim leaves the room, but after a while he moves towards the apple which Jim left on the arm of his chair with the penknife still stuck in it. He picks it up by the knife handle and looks at it. Jim has dug a large circular piece out of the apple, and on the left of the circle he has carved an “I” shape while on the right of the circle is a “U” shape, forming the letters “I O U”. Sherlock’s mouth twitches into the beginning of a smile.)
The next morning the “Daily Express” front page headline screams “MORIARTY WALKS FREE” with the strapline “Shock verdict at Old Bailey trial”. The opening paragraph reads “The Judge could only look on dumbfounded as the Jury found ‘Jimbo’ Moriarty ‘Not Guilty’. Gasps were heard around the courtroom as the Jury declared their verdict”. “The Guardian” declares “Shock verdict at trial” and the article begins, “In an unbelievable turn of events Moriarty walked free today after putting up no defence at all for what has been described as the Trial of the Century. Star witness Sherlock Holmes was not present for the verdict as in another twist to the case was thrown out of court by the Judge. Questions

have been asked in Parliament and the Prime Minister was quoted as saying ‘This is a disgrace, a sign if ever we needed one that broken Britain is still broken...” [and yes, they do open the quote with single speech marks, then close it with double speech marks]. The “Daily Star” goes with “How was he ever acquitted” [but apparently can’t be bothered to put a question mark after it].
Some time later “The Guardian” declares “Moriarty vanishes” while on one of its inside pages is a cartoon caricature of Sherlock holding a crystal ball with the caption underneath reading, “What Next for the Reichenbach Hero?”
TWO MONTHS LATER.
John goes to a NatWest cashpoint machine and inserts his card. Typing in his PIN, he then selects a transaction. After a few seconds he is greeted with the onscreen message
There is a problem with
your card
Please wait
(John grimaces and a second later a new message appears
Thank you for
your patience.
A moment later the message adds
John
John frowns and behind him a black car pulls up to the kerb and stops. John turns and looks at it, then turns back to the ATM, sighing in exasperation. However, he still hasn’t learned his lesson about getting into strange cars and apparently meekly gets in and allows himself to be driven to an elegant white painted building which has a brass plaque outside declaring the venue to be THE DIOGENES CLUB. He goes inside and enters a large room which – back when the building used to be a house – was probably a drawing room. A large marble fireplace surrounds an unlit fire and the walls have heavy wooden panelling and ornate white plaster coving. The room contains five small round tables, each with a single armchair beside it, and four of them are currently occupied by smartly dressed middle aged or elderly gentlemen reading newspapers and taking no notice of each other or of the new arrival. John looks around and then walks over to one of the older men sitting at the far end of the room.)
JOHN Er, excuse me. Um, I’m looking for Mycroft Holmes.
(The old man’s face becomes appalled but he doesn’t look up.)
JOHN Would you happen to know if he’s around at all?
(Some of the other inhabitants of the room behind John look round at him but don’t speak.) JOHN Can you not hear me?
(The old man looks up at him, huffing indignantly. John holds out a placatory hand to him.) JOHN Yes, all right.
(He turns around to the others in the room.)
JOHN Anyone?
(The others turn their faces away from him.)
JOHN Anyone at all know where Mycroft Holmes is? I’ve been asked to meet him here. (The old man lifts his walking stick and pushes the end of it repeatedly onto a button on the nearby wall. A distant bell rings. John looks around in confusion as the gentlemen either ignore him or look at him in annoyance.)
JOHN No takers? Right. (He raises his voice.) Am I invisible? Can you actually see me? (Just then two men wearing dress coats walk into the room. John turns to them.)
JOHN Ah, thanks, gents.
(Behind him, the elderly gentleman flaps his hand frantically at the new arrivals as if to say, ‘Get him out of here!’ The dress coated men, wearing white gloves and soft white overshoes to muffle their footsteps, walk briskly over to John.)
JOHN I’ve been asked to meet Mycroft Holm...

(He breaks off as the men walk either side of him and seize his arms firmly.)
JOHN What the...? Hey!
(As they almost lift him off his feet, one of them puts his other hand over John’s mouth to silence him. His muffled protests continue as they rapidly bundle him out of the room.) Shortly afterwards John has been taken to a smaller room and the door has been closed firmly behind him. Mycroft is in the room with him and pours himself a drink from a crystal decanter.
MYCROFT Tradition, John. Our traditions define us.
JOHN So total silence is traditional, is it? You can’t even say, “Pass the sugar.”
MYCROFT Three-quarters of the diplomatic service and half the government front bench all sharing one tea trolley. It’s for the best, believe me.
(He smiles round at John but then his face becomes more grim as he walks towards a pair of armchairs in the middle of the room.)
MYCROFT They don’t want a repeat of nineteen seventy-two. But we can talk in here. (John walks to a small table and picks up a copy of “The Sun” which is lying on it. He brandishes it at Mycroft.)
JOHN You read this stuff?
MYCROFT Caught my eye.
JOHN (sitting down in one of the armchairs) Mmm-hmm.
MYCROFT Saturday they’re doing a big exposé.
(John reads the announcement at the top of the front page. The headline reads “SHERLOCK THE SHOCKING TRUTH” with the strapline “Close Friend Richard Brook Tells All”. The article reveals that it is an Exclusive from Kitty Riley and the text reads “Super-sleuth Sherlock Holmes has today been exposed as a fraud in a revelation that will shock his new found base of adoring fans. // Out-of-work actor Richard Brook revealed exclusively to THE SUN that he was hired by Holmes in an elaborate deception to fool the British public into believing Holmes had above-average ‘detective skills’. // Brook, who has known Holmes for decades and until recently considered him to be a close friend, said he was at first desperate for the money, but later found he had no” [at which point the text just stops].)
JOHN I’d love to know where she got her information.
MYCROFT Someone called Brook. Recognise the name?
(John lowers the paper and shakes his head.)
JOHN School friend, maybe?
(Mycroft laughs in a snide way. Your transcriber wants to slap him really quite hard.) MYCROFT Of Sherlock’s? (He chuckles again.) But that’s not why I asked you here.
(He walks to a side table and picks up several folders. Returning to John he gives him one of them. John opens the file and looks at the photograph on the top page.)
JOHN Who’s that?
MYCROFT Don’t know him?
JOHN No.
MYCROFT Never seen his face before?
JOHN (looking at the photo again) Umm...
MYCROFT He’s taken a flat in Baker Street, two doors down from you.
JOHN Hmm! I was thinking of doing a drinks thing for the neighbours.
(He smiles sarcastically up at Mycroft who looks back at him straight-faced.)
MYCROFT Not sure you’ll want to. (He nods towards the folder.) Sulejmani. Albanian hit squad. Expertly-trained killer living less than twenty feet from your front door.
JOHN It’s a great location. Jubilee line’s handy.
MYCROFT John....
JOHN What’s it got to do with me?
MYCROFT (walking over and giving him another of the files) Dyachenko, Ludmila.

(He sits down opposite John, who lets out a long tired groan as he opens the file and looks at the photograph inside before frowning a little.)
JOHN Um, actually, I think I have seen her.
MYCROFT Russian killer. She’s taken the flat opposite.

JOHN (now sounding a little nervous) Okay...I’m sensing a pattern here.
MYCROFT (handing him the rest of the files) In fact, four top international assassins relocate to within spitting distance of two hundred and twenty-one B. Anything you care to share with me?
(Looking at the photographs of the other assassins, John chuckles, then looks up at Mycroft.)
JOHN I’m moving?!
(Mycroft looks back at him unamused, then narrows his eyes.)
MYCROFT It’s not hard to guess the common denominator, is it?
JOHN You think this is Moriarty?
MYCROFT He promised Sherlock he’d come back.
JOHN If this was Moriarty, we’d be dead already.
MYCROFT If not Moriarty, then who?
JOHN Why don’t you talk to Sherlock if you’re so concerned about him?
(Mycroft looks away and toys with the glass on the table beside him. John rolls his eyes.) JOHN Oh God, don’t tell me.
MYCROFT Too much history between us, John. Old scores; resentments.
JOHN Nicked all his Smurfs? Broke his Action Man?
(Mycroft glowers at him. John can’t help but laugh, then pulls himself together and puts the files onto the table beside him.)
JOHN (in a whisper) Finished.
(He stands up and turns to leave the room.)
MYCROFT We both know what’s coming, John.
(John stops and turns back, clearly now struggling to control his anger.)
MYCROFT Moriarty is obsessed. He’s sworn to destroy his only rival.
JOHN (tightly) So you want me to watch out for your brother because he won’t accept your help.
MYCROFT If it’s not too much trouble.
(He directs a smile at John but it quickly fades and his expression becomes more threatening. John holds his gaze, then looks away, nods in a resigned way and turns to go to the door again. Opening it, he looks back at Mycroft once more, who still has the same look on his face, then leaves the room.)
221B. A taxi drops John off opposite the flat. As he crosses the road, he can’t help but be aware of people passing by in the street, wondering if any of them are the assassins keeping an eye on the flat. As John reaches the front door – which is standing wide open – he sees that a brown envelope has been left on the doorstep. There is nothing written on the front but the back has a large old fashioned wax seal on it. He peels open one corner of the envelope and puts his finger in to slide it along the edge and slice the rest of the envelope open. Immediately a lot of brown dust, with some larger chunks of brown something, fall out. As he catches some of the debris and looks at it, a man’s Cockney voice speaks behind him.
MAN Excuse, mate.
JOHN Oh.
(He steps aside as a heavily tattooed bald-headed man wearing jeans and a black vest carries a stepladder into the hallway. John follows him in, putting the envelope into his pocket as he goes. He trots upstairs and goes into the living room.)
JOHN Sherlock, something weird....
(He stops as he sees that Greg and Sally are in the room with Sherlock.)

JOHN What’s going on?
SHERLOCK Kidnapping.
(He goes over to the table and sits down and starts to type on the laptop.)
LESTRADE Rufus Bruhl, the ambassador to the U.S.
JOHN He’s in Washington, isn’t he?
LESTRADE Not him – his children, Max and Claudette, age seven and nine.
(Sally shows John photographs of the two children.)
LESTRADE They’re at St Aldate’s.
DONOVAN Posh boarding place down in Surrey.
LESTRADE (to Sherlock, who is still typing) The school broke up; all the other boarders went home – just a few kids remained, including those two.
DONOVAN The kids have vanished.
LESTRADE The ambassador’s asked for you personally.
(Sherlock is already on his feet and heading out of the door with his coat over his arm.) DONOVAN (sarcastically) The Reichenbach Hero.
(Sherlock keeps going. After a moment Greg follows him out.)
LESTRADE Isn’t it great to be working with a celebrity(!)
(As John gestures for Sally to precede him out of the room, their actions are being watched by a camera high up on the living room wall near the left-hand front window.)
ST ALDATE’S SCHOOL. Greg’s car drives into the grounds of the boarding school and pulls up outside the front entrance. Two police cars are already there and a woman is standing in front of one of them, leaning against the bonnet wearing a shock blanket around her shoulders and crying while a uniformed female police officer talks reassuringly to her. A man, probably a plain clothed police officer, is talking to her but walks away as Greg, Sally and the boys get out of the car and approach. The woman blows her nose on her handkerchief.
FEMALE POLICE OFFICER (comfortingly) It’s all right.
LESTRADE (quietly to Sherlock) Miss Mackenzie, House Mistress. Go easy.
(He stays back and lets Sherlock walk over to the woman on his own.)
SHERLOCK Miss Mackenzie, you’re in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night. (His voice rises angrily.) What are you an idiot, a drunk or a criminal?
(He grabs the blanket and abruptly pulls it from around her shoulders. She gasps in fear as he glares furiously at her.)
SHERLOCK (loudly) Now quickly, tell me!
MISS MACKENZIE (tearfully and cringing in terror) 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’s demeanour instantly changes and he smiles reassuringly and gently takes hold of her shoulders.)
SHERLOCK I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly.
(He looks at the nearby police officers as he turns and walks away.)
SHERLOCK Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now.
(She sobs in distress and the female police officer hurries over to comfort her. Inside the school, Sherlock leads the others into one of the dormitories.)
JOHN Six grand a term, you’d expect them to keep the kids safe for you. You said the other kids had all left on their holidays?
(Sherlock has already looked in a cupboard beside one of the beds and now drops to his knees and peers under the bed.)
LESTRADE They were the only two sleeping on this floor. Absolutely no sign of a break-in. (Sherlock picks up a lacrosse stick lying on the floor and gets to his feet while looking at the stick closely. He briefly wields it as if using it as a weapon but then apparently decides it wasn’t used in that way and drops it to the floor again.)

LESTRADE The intruder must have been hidden inside some place.
(Sherlock goes over to a wooden trunk and opens the lid. Amongst the other items inside the trunk he finds a large brown envelope with a wax seal on the back which has already been broken as if someone has opened the envelope. Inside is a large hardback book. Checking the envelope carefully first, he then takes the book out and looks at the cover. The book is “Grimm’s Fairy Tales.” He looks along the edges of the book and then riffles the pages quickly. Finding nothing of interest, he looks up.)
SHERLOCK Show me where the brother slept.
(He is taken to another smaller dormitory and looks around, going to stand beside a bed which is facing the door. The door has a frosted glass pane in it. He looks towards the door while gesturing down to the bed.)
SHERLOCK The boy sleeps there every night, gazing at the only light source outside in the corridor. He’d recognise every shape, every outline, the silhouette of everyone who came to the door.
LESTRADE Okay, so...
SHERLOCK So someone approaches the door who he doesn’t recognise, an intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon.
(Leaving the other three inside the room, he goes outside the door and pulls it almost closed, then raises his hand and points his fingers as if they’re a gun, showing the others how it would be seen through the frosted glass. He pushes the door open and comes back into the room.)
SHERLOCK What would he do in the precious few seconds before they came into the room? How would he use them if not to cry out?
(He walks around the bed, looking at the boy’s possessions.)
SHERLOCK This little boy; this particular little boy...(he looks at the bedside table)...who reads all of those spy books. What would he do?
JOHN He’d leave a sign?
(Sherlock starts sniffing noisily. He picks up a cricket bat leaning against the nearby cupboard and sniffs along both sides of it. Putting the bat down again he squats and sniffs around the bedside table, then reaches under the bed and finds an almost empty glass bottle of linseed oil. He looks up.)
SHERLOCK (sternly) Get Anderson.
Not long afterwards the room has been darkened as much as possible by closing the wooden shutters over the windows. Sherlock shines an ultraviolet light on the wall beside the boy’s bed where the words “HELP US” have been written on the wall, only now visible in the light.
SHERLOCK Linseed oil.
ANDERSON Not much use. Doesn’t lead us to the kidnapper.
SHERLOCK Brilliant, Anderson.
ANDERSON Really?
SHERLOCK Yes. Brilliant impression of an idiot.
(He points downwards, shining the light close to the wooden floorboards.)
SHERLOCK The floor.
(There are several sets of illuminated footprints of varying sizes leading towards the door. Sherlock follows them slowly.)
JOHN He made a trail for us!
SHERLOCK The boy was made to walk ahead of them.
JOHN (looking at the shape of some of the smaller footprints) On, what, tiptoe? SHERLOCK Indicates anxiety; a gun held to his head.
(He walks slowly out into the corridor, which has also been blacked out, and follows the footsteps. Anderson walks beside him with another ultraviolet light.)

SHERLOCK The girl was pulled beside him, dragged sideways. He had his left arm cradled about her neck.
(A few yards along the corridor the glowing footsteps stop.)
ANDERSON That’s the end of it. We don’t know where they went from here. (Sherlock stops. Anderson turns back to him.)

ANDERSON Tells us nothing after all.
SHERLOCK You’re right, Anderson – nothing.
(He pauses for a moment, then takes a breath.)
SHERLOCK (quickfire) Except his shoe size, his height, his gait, his walking pace.
(He reaches to the closest window and tears down the blackout material that had been stuck across it. Daylight floods back into the corridor. Putting the light onto the window sill, he kneels down and takes his wallet of tools and a small lidded plastic Petri dish from his inside pocket. As the police go back towards the bedroom, he puts the dish on the floor, opens the wallet and chuckles contentedly. John squats down beside him.)
JOHN Having fun?
SHERLOCK Starting to.
JOHN Maybe don’t do the smiling.
(Sherlock lifts his head.)
JOHN Kidnapped children?
(Sherlock lowers his head again and concentrates on scraping some of the dried linseed oil and floor wax loose with a small scalpel and then using tweezers to pick up the loosened pieces and put them into the container.)
LONDON. Sherlock and John are in a taxi.
JOHN But how did he get past the CCTV? If all the doors were locked.
SHERLOCK He walked in when they weren’t locked.
JOHN But a stranger can’t just walk into a school like that.
SHERLOCK Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment. Yesterday – end of term, parents milling around, chauffeurs, staff. What’s one more stranger among that lot?
(A flashback shows one of the school children outside the entrance being embraced by her mother. Other adults and children are all around, and one man walks alone up the steps towards the door.)
SHERLOCK He was waiting for them. All he had to do was find a place to hide.
ST BARTHOLOMEW’S HOSPITAL. Molly Hooper walks along a corridor, pulling her coat on. Just as she reaches the fire doors at the end of the corridor, Sherlock and John walk through them.
SHERLOCK Molly!
MOLLY Oh, hello. I’m just going out.
SHERLOCK (putting his hands onto her shoulders and turning her back the way she just came) No you’re not.
MOLLY I’ve got a lunch date.
SHERLOCK (putting a hand on her back to start her walking again) Cancel it. You’re having lunch with me.
(Reaching into his coat pockets, he dramatically produces a bag of Quavers crisps from each pocket.)
MOLLY What?
SHERLOCK (putting the crisps back into his pockets) Need your help. It’s one of your old boyfriends – we’re trying to track him down. He’s been a bit naughty!
(Reaching the fire doors at the other end of the corridor, he turns and smiles back at Molly, who has stopped dead a few paces back. John also stops and stares at him.)
JOHN It’s Moriarty?
SHERLOCK Of course, it’s Moriarty.

MOLLY Er, Jim actually wasn’t even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it. SHERLOCK Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England and organised a prison break at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly.

(Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out and brandishes the Quavers at her again, then continues on through the fire door. She stares after him in utter bewilderment.)
Shortly afterwards, wearing her lab coat, she pushes her way through the door into Sherlock’s favourite lab weighed down by the huge pile of books and files she is carrying. As she staggers into the room, Sherlock is sitting at the bench in front of a microscope. John is standing at the other side of the bench.

SHERLOCK Oil, John.
(He opens the plastic Petri dish and takes out one of the samples with tweezers.) SHERLOCK The oil in the kidnapper’s footprint – it’ll lead us to Moriarty.
(He drops the sample into a test tube which has some liquid in the bottom. The fluid begins to fizz. He suctions up some of the liquid and drops it onto a slide.)
SHERLOCK All the chemical traces on his shoe have been preserved. The sole of the shoe is like a passport. If we’re lucky we can see everything that he’s been up to.
(He looks at the slide under the microscope. Time passes and we see brief extracts of the work that he and Molly are doing. She puts on latex gloves.)
SHERLOCK I need that analysis.
(Molly squeezes some liquid into a glass dish and applies some Litmus paper to it. The paper turns blue.)
MOLLY Alkaline.
SHERLOCK Thank you, John.
MOLLY Molly.
SHERLOCK Yes.
(She turns away unhappily. Sherlock has found the first component in the mixture of items and makes a note of it
1. Chalk
He takes another sample and dissolves it. The results reveal another item
2. Asphalt
Dissolving another sample into a dish
3. Brick Dust
And another sample dissolved and heated over a Bunsen burner
4. Vegetation
Later, he has another sample on a slide and is looking at it in the microscope. He quietly murmurs to himself.)
SHERLOCK (softly) I...owe...you.
(He turns his head and looks at a computer screen nearby.)
SHERLOCK Glycerol molecule.
(He sighs heavily as he struggles to identify the item, seeing it in his head as
5. ?????
SHERLOCK What are you?
(He looks into the microscope again as Molly stands beside him typing onto a laptop.) MOLLY What did you mean, “I owe you”?
(John walks across the lab on the other side of the bench. Sherlock raises his eyes from the microscope and watches him as he crosses the room.)
MOLLY You said, “I owe you”. You were muttering it while you were working.
SHERLOCK (looking into the microscope again) Nothing. Mental note.
(Molly looks at him.)
MOLLY You’re a bit like my dad. He’s dead.
(She closes her eyes, embarrassed.)

MOLLY No, sorry.
SHERLOCK Molly, please don’t feel the need to make conversation. It’s really not your area.
(Molly cringes but continues.)
MOLLY When he was...dying, he was always cheerful; he was lovely – except when he thought no-one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad.
SHERLOCK (sternly) Molly...
MOLLY You look sad...(she glances towards John)...when you think he can’t see you. (Sherlock’s eyes lift from the microscope and drift towards John who is looking through papers on the other side of the lab some distance away, unaware of the conversation. Sherlock turns his head and looks at Molly.)
MOLLY Are you okay?
(He opens his mouth but she interrupts before he can speak.)
MOLLY And don’t just say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no-one can see you.
SHERLOCK You can see me.
MOLLY I don’t count.
(Sherlock blinks and really looks at her, possibly for the first time since he has known her.) MOLLY What I’m trying to say is that, if there’s anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me.
(She flinches and looks away briefly.)
MOLLY No, I just mean...I mean if there’s anything you need....
(She shakes her head.)
MOLLY It’s fine.
(She turns away. Sherlock looks shaken.)
SHERLOCK What-what-what could I need from you?
MOLLY (turning back to him) Nothing. (She shrugs.) I don’t no. You could probably say thank you, actually.
(She nods nervously but firmly. The side of Sherlock’s mouth twitches as if it doesn’t know how to say the words.)
SHERLOCK (hesitantly)...Thank you?
(He frowns and turns his head away as if surprised that he has said it. Molly starts to walk towards the door.)
MOLLY I’m just gonna go and get some crisps. Do you want anything?
(He starts to open his mouth but she turns back and beats him to it.)
MOLLY It’s okay, I know you don’t.
SHERLOCK Well, actually, maybe I’ll....
MOLLY I know you don’t.
(She turns and walks away, leaving the room. He watches her go, then gazes into the distance thoughtfully for a moment before looking back to his microscope.)
(On the other side of the lab, ignorant of the conversation that has just taken place, John is looking through police photographs taken at the school. He finds one of the inside of the wooden trunk which shows the envelope with the wax seal, and another with a close-up of the seal.)
JOHN Sherlock.
SHERLOCK Hmm?
JOHN This envelope that was in her trunk. There’s another one.
(He walks over to where he has put his jacket.)
SHERLOCK What?
JOHN On our doorstep. Found it today.
(He gets the envelope out of his pocket and looks at it.)
JOHN Yes, and look at that.

(He brings the envelope round the bench and gives it to Sherlock.)
JOHN Look at that. Exactly the same seal.
(Sherlock reaches into the envelope and takes out some of the brown dust which we now see more clearly.)
SHERLOCK Breadcrumbs.
JOHN Uh-huh. It was there when I got back.
SHERLOCK A little trace of bread-crumbs; hardback copy of fairy tales.
(His eyes widen.)
SHERLOCK Two children led into the forest by a wicked father follow a little trail of breadcrumbs.
JOHN That’s “Hansel and Gretel.” What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?
SHERLOCK The sort that likes to boast; the sort that thinks it’s all a game. He sat in our flat and he said these exact words to me....
(Jim’s voice overlays Sherlock’s as he relates the words.)
SHERLOCK/JIM All fairy-tales need a good old-fashioned villain.
(Sherlock puts the envelope down and adjusts his microscope before starting to look into it again.)
SHERLOCK The fifth substance it’s part of the tale.
(He looks up again.)
SHERLOCK The witch’s house.
JOHN What?
(In repeated cut-aways during the next few lines, the two kidnapped children are kneeling on the floor somewhere, rapidly peeling the wrappers from sweets and eating them.) SHERLOCK The glycerol molecule.
(The final element in the sample becomes clear to him
5. PGPR
SHERLOCK PGPR!
JOHN What’s that?
SHERLOCK (leaping to his feet) It’s used in making chocolate.
(He hurries out of the lab as, in the cut-away, the children continue to scoff the sweets on the floor. The camera pulls back to show that they are in what looks like an abandoned factory or warehouse.)
SCOTLAND YARD. Greg hands a sheet of paper to Sherlock as he leads him and John into the department’s main office.
LESTRADE This fax arrived an hour ago.
(There is a large handwritten note on the paper saying
HURRY UP
THEY’RE
DYING!
Sherlock hands the note to John.)
LESTRADE What have you got for us?
SHERLOCK Need to find a place in the city where all five of these things intersect.
(He hands a piece of paper to Greg, who reads it aloud.)
LESTRADE Chalk, asphalt, brick dust, vegetation...What the hell is this? Chocolate? SHERLOCK I think we’re looking for a disused sweet factory.
LESTRADE We need to narrow that down. A sweet factory with asphalt?
SHERLOCK No. No-no-no. Too general. Need something more specific. Chalk; chalky clay – that’s a far thinner band of geology.
(He calls up a map of London in his head, overlaying it with the names of the towns, then begins zooming in and out of various areas.)
LESTRADE Brick dust?
SHERLOCK Building site. Bricks from the nineteen fifties.

LESTRADE (rubbing his face in despair) There’s thousands of building sites in London. (Sherlock looks exasperated at the distraction.)
SHERLOCK I’ve got people out looking.
LESTRADE So have I.

SHERLOCK Homeless network – faster than the police. (He smiles snidely.) Far more relaxed about taking bribes.
(Sitting at a desk nearby, Anderson looks up and rolls his eyes. Sherlock’s phone trills a text alert, followed by several more alerts. He brandishes his phone triumphantly at Greg as the messages continue to pour in. Smiling smugly, he lifts the phone up high and calls up his mental London map in front of him, flicking his eyes across to the phone to look at each photograph and then transfer it to the map. One of the photos attracts his particular attention, being a close-up shot of some purple flowers.)

SHERLOCK John.
(He holds the phone out to show him the picture.)
SHERLOCK Rhododendron ponticum. It matches.
(He goes back to the mental map and scans around it to the only places in London where such a plant grows, then finds the one place that contains the other elements as well.) SHERLOCK Addlestone.
LESTRADE What?
SHERLOCK There’s a mile of disused factories between the river and the park. It matches everything.
(He turns and hurries out of the office with John in hot pursuit. Greg turns to his team.) LESTRADE Right, come on.
(Sally hesitates.)
LESTRADE Come on!
(She jumps up and hurries after him.)
ADDLESTONE. Several police cars race to a disused factory and the police officers, together with Sherlock and John, run inside the dark building. Everyone switches on flashlights and Sally coordinates the police as they start to search in all directions. DONOVAN You, look over there. Look everywhere. Okay, spread out, please. Spread out. (Greg leads another team, including Sherlock and John, into another part of the factory. Greg directs his officers.)
LESTRADE (softly) Look in there. Quietly. Quietly.
(As they make their way deeper into the factory, Sherlock finds a large number of empty sweet wrappers scattered on the floor around a candle on a plate. Sherlock touches the wick of the candle.)
SHERLOCK This was alight moments ago.
(He calls out loudly.)
SHERLOCK They’re still here.
(The search continues all around.)
SHERLOCK Sweet wrappers. What’s he been feeding you?
(He picks up one of the wrappers and looks at it more closely.)
SHERLOCK Hansel and Gretel.
(He holds the wrapper closer to the beam of his flashlight and sniffs the paper before touching the tip of his tongue to it and grimacing at the taste. He looks at the wrapper in startled realisation of what he has just tasted.)
SHERLOCK Mercury.
LESTRADE What?
SHERLOCK The papers they’re painted with mercury.
(John groans.)
SHERLOCK Lethal. The more of the stuff they ate...
JOHN It was killing them.

SHERLOCK But it’s not enough to kill them on its own. Taken in large enough quantities, eventually it would kill them.
(The police continue searching the building but Sherlock is now locked onto his thoughts about Moriarty.)

SHERLOCK He didn’t need to be there for the execution. Murder by remote control. He could be a thousand miles away.
(Nearby, Sally sees something in the light of her torch. She moves closer and sees a little girl sitting on the ground with her brother’s head in her lap. His eyes are closed. The girl looks around at Sally.)

SHERLOCK (softly, to himself) The hungrier they got, the more they ate...the faster they died.
(He grins.)
SHERLOCK Neat.

JOHN Sherlock.
DONOVAN (calling out) Over here!
(Everyone runs in the direction of her voice. Sally and other officers reach down to the children.)
DONOVAN I’ve got you. Don’t worry.
SCOTLAND YARD. Sherlock is pacing outside an office while John sits nearby. The door to the office opens and Sally and Greg come out.
DONOVAN (sarcastically to Sherlock) Right, then. The professionals have finished. If the amateurs wanna go in and have their turn...
(John stands up and walks over to the others. Greg looks seriously at Sherlock.) LESTRADE Now, remember, she’s in shock and she’s just seven years old, so anything you can do to...
SHERLOCK ...not be myself.
LESTRADE Yeah. Might be helpful.
(Sherlock looks round to John and, doing everything but roll his eyes, reaches up and unpops the collar of his coat, folding it down flat before leading John and the others into the office. The little girl is sitting at a table looking down into her lap. A female liaison officer is sitting beside her stroking her arm reassuringly.)
SHERLOCK Claudette, I...
(He gets no further as the girl lifts her head, takes one look at him and begins to scream in terror.)
SHERLOCK No-no, I know it’s been hard for you.
(She continues screaming and scrambles to get away while pointing at him.)
SHERLOCK Claudette, listen to me...
LESTRADE Out. Get out!
(Grabbing his arm, he bundles Sherlock out of the room as the girl’s screams continue.) Shortly afterwards, Sherlock is standing at the window of another office looking out into the night through the slats of the Venetian blinds. Sally stands at the other side of the office watching him thoughtfully.
JOHN Makes no sense.
LESTRADE The kid’s traumatised. Something about Sherlock reminds her of the kidnapper.
JOHN So what’s she said?
DONOVAN Hasn’t uttered another syllable.
JOHN And the boy?
LESTRADE No, he’s unconscious; still in intensive care.
(In the building opposite Scotland Yard, all the lights in the offices come on. On the second floor, spray paint has been applied to three of the office windows. Sherlock stares at the enormous letters that have been painted

IOU
Seconds later, the lights on that floor go out again. Behind Sherlock, the others are unaware of what he has just seen because the view was blocked by the blinds.) 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.
(He looks round to Sally and John.)
LESTRADE Come on.
(He and John leave the room. Sally stays behind as Sherlock turns away from the window and walks towards the door.)
DONOVAN Brilliant work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It’s really amazing.
SHERLOCK Thank you.
DONOVAN (pointedly) Unbelievable.
(Sherlock hesitates momentarily, then continues on. She watches him go with a thoughtful expression.)
(Outside shortly afterwards, John waits for Sherlock to join him and then looks down the street.)
JOHN Ah.
(He raises his hand to hail the approaching taxi. As the boys walk to the edge of the kerb, John looks round to Sherlock.)
JOHN You okay?
SHERLOCK Thinking.
(The taxi pulls up at the kerb.)
SHERLOCK This is my cab. You get the next one.
JOHN Why?
SHERLOCK You might talk.
(He gets in and closes the door and the taxi pulls away. John stares after him in disbelief, then sighs.)
Back inside Scotland Yard, Sally is in a large office and has scattered all the police photographs and other evidence over a long table. She stands looking down at everything thoughtfully. Greg walks along the corridor outside and notices her. He stops and looks into the room as Sally mentally plays back earlier moments.
LESTRADE What the hell is this? Chocolate?
SHERLOCK I think we’re looking for a disused sweet factory.
(Claudette screams in terror.)
LESTRADE Get out!
(Now Greg comes into the room and walks over to Sally as Claudette’s screams fade from her mind.)
LESTRADE Problem?
(She looks around at him, then down at the evidence again.)
TAXI. Sherlock sits in the back lost in thought. Partway into the journey, the TV screen on the back of the driver’s seat switches on and an advertisement starts to play. London Taxi Shopping is advertising jewellery.
VOICEOVER This is a stunning evening wear set from us here at London Taxi Shopping. SHERLOCK (to the driver) Can you turn this off, please?
(The driver doesn’t respond and the advert continues.)
VOICEOVER As you can see, the set comprises of a beautiful....
SHERLOCK (louder, angrily) Can you turn this off...
(The image on the screen begins to fritz as if another channel is breaking through. There are momentary glimpses of someone who can only be Jim Moriarty grinning at the screen. Eventually the advert disappears and Jim is seen smiling cheerfully. Behind him is a pale

blue wall with painted white fluffy clouds floating across it. Jim’s voice takes on a sing-song quality as if he is talking to children.)
JIM Hello. Are you ready for the story? This is the story of Sir Boast-a-lot.
(Sherlock stares at the screen, his face intense.)

SCOTLAND YARD. Sally is showing Greg one of the photographs. DONOVAN The footprint. It’s all he has. A 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 And what’s the other?
TAXI. Jim’s image continues to smile from the TV screen.
JIM Sir Boast-a-lot was the bravest and cleverest knight at the Round Table, but soon the other knights began to grow tired of his stories about how brave he was and how many dragons he’d slain...

(Behind him, the pale blue sky gets darker and the white clouds become grey and threatening.)
JIM And soon they began to wonder...
(Behind him, rain begins to pour from the clouds.)

JIM ...‘Are Sir Boast-a-lot’s stories even true?’
SCOTLAND YARD (offscreen)
DONOVAN (voiceover) Only he could have found that evidence.
TAXI. Jim shakes his head.
JIM Oh, no.
SCOTLAND YARD.
DONOVAN 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 Wh-what’s your point?
DONOVAN You know what my point is. You just don’t wanna think about it.
JIM (on the taxi TV screen) So one of the knights went to King Arthur and said...(in a dramatic whisper) ...‘I don’t believe Sir Boast-a-lot’s stories. He’s just a big old liar who makes things up to make himself look good.’
(At Scotland Yard, Anderson has now come in and he and Sally stand opposite Greg’s desk as he sits talking with them.)
LESTRADE You’re not seriously suggesting he’s involved, are you?
ANDERSON I think we have to entertain the possibility.
(Greg stares at him, bewildered.)
JIM (on the TV screen) And then even the King began to wonder...
(He frowns, raising a finger to his mouth and gazing off to the side with a wondering look on his face. At Scotland Yard, Greg sinks his face into his hand as he is forced to consider what his officers are telling him. On the taxi TV screen, Jim frowns thoughtfully as cartoon lightning bolts shoot out of the clouds behind him.)
JIM (shaking his head repeatedly) But that wasn’t the end of Sir Boast-a-lot’s problem. No. (He looks down for a moment, then raises his eyes to the camera again.)
JIM That wasn’t the final problem.
(Sherlock bares his teeth at the screen as the camera pulls back to show Jim sitting with a storybook held in his hands. He looks up at the camera and finishes in an even more sing- song voice.)
JIM The End.
(Behind him, a red velvet curtain drops down as if covering a theatre stage. The shot changes to an extreme close-up of Jim grinning hugely and showing his teeth, then the screen fritzes a few times and eventually returns to the jewellery advert.)

SHERLOCK Stop the cab! Stop the cab!
(The taxi begins to pull up near the kerb.)
SHERLOCK What was that?
(He jumps out of the right-hand door and runs forward to the driver’s door.) SHERLOCK What was that?

(The cabbie, wearing a cloth cap very reminiscent of the one worn by the cabbie in “A Study in Pink”, turns his head towards Sherlock and reveals that he is Jim Moriarty, who adopts a London accent as he speaks.)
JIM No charge.

(He immediately accelerates away as Sherlock tries to grab hold of the door and pull the cab back. Forced to let go, he chases after the taxi but it soon speeds away. He stops in the middle of the road, glaring after it and unaware that another car is speeding along behind him. As it sounds its horn in warning, a man hurries off the pavement, grabs him and pulls him out of danger.)

MAN Look out!
(Not yet fully realising what the man is doing, Sherlock strikes out at him but then stops as the car roars past and he realises what has happened. He stands with the man at arm’s length, breathing heavily as the man looks warily at him. Those of us who have been paying attention – or who just rewound the recording to check – realise that this is Sulejmani, the Albanian assassin who lives on Baker Street.)
SHERLOCK (catching his breath) Thank you.
(He holds out his hand for the man to shake. Sulejmani somewhat reluctantly takes it and we soon realise why he wasn’t keen as three bullets are fired into him in quick succession from somewhere behind Sherlock. Sulejmani slumps to the ground and Sherlock spins around, trying to find the source of the gunfire. Just then another black cab comes around the corner and pulls up a short distance away. John jumps out and hurries towards him.) JOHN Sherlock!
Some time later Sherlock stands twitching his fingers fretfully as an ambulance crew wheels Sulejmani’s body away.
JOHN That...it’s him. It’s him. Sulejmani or something. Mycroft showed me his file. He’s a big Albanian gangster lives two doors down from us.
SHERLOCK He died because I shook his hand.
JOHN What do you mean?
SHERLOCK He saved my life but he couldn’t touch me. Why?
(He storms off. John follows.)
221B. Sherlock walks rapidly into the living room, pulling his scarf and then his coat off as he goes across to the laptop on the table. Sadly, at this point he stops removing clothing. SHERLOCK Four assassins living right on our doorstep. They didn’t come here to kill me; they have to keep me alive.
(He sits down at the table while John goes over to the window near him and looks out.) SHERLOCK I’ve got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches me.... JOHN ...the others kill them before they can get it.
(Sherlock grunts in agreement and types rapidly on the laptop, navigating away from the website for St Aldate’s School and calling up a list of local Wi-Fi networks. There are five of them and he checks their signal strength and the names of the networks.)
SHERLOCK All of the attention is focussed on me. There’s a surveillance web closing in on us right now.
JOHN So what have you got that’s so important?
(Sherlock gazes into the distance and thinks for a moment, then runs his finger along the table beside the computer before lifting it and looking at his fingertip.)
SHERLOCK We need to ask about the dusting.

Shortly afterwards, Mrs Hudson has been dragged upstairs in her nightdress and dressing gown. Sherlock is hurrying around the room checking for dust on all the furniture. SHERLOCK Precise details in the last week, what’s been cleaned?
MRS HUDSON Well, Tuesday I did your lino...

SHERLOCK No, in here, this room. This is where we’ll find it – any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust.
(He lifts his hand from the latest piece of furniture that he has been running his finger along, and twirls his finger dramatically in the air.)

SHERLOCK Dust is eloquent.
(Mrs Hudson looks over her shoulder at John.)
MRS HUDSON (quietly) What’s he on about?
(John shakes his head and mumbles. By now Sherlock is climbing on the furniture to look more closely at the top shelves of the bookcase to the left of the fireplace.)
SHERLOCK Cameras. We’re being watched.
MRS HUDSON What? Cameras? (She cringes.) Here? I’m in my nightie!
(The doorbell has just rung and she hurries out of the room, John following her. Sherlock has climbed down and now checks in the eye sockets of the skull on the mantelpiece before climbing onto small tables on the other side of the fireplace to look at the bookshelves there. Checking the books on the top shelf, he seems to realise that the one on the far right has more movement around it than it ought and he pushes it deeper into the shelf, revealing a camera stuck on the side of the bookshelf. As he reaches up to remove it, Greg comes into the room followed by John.)
SHERLOCK (without turning around, still concentrating on removing the camera) No, Inspector.
LESTRADE What?
SHERLOCK (stepping down with the camera in his fingers) The answer’s no.
LESTRADE But you haven’t heard the question!
SHERLOCK You want to take me to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking.
(He walks closer. Greg pulls in a breath.)
LESTRADE Sherlock.
SHERLOCK (interrupting) The scream?
LESTRADE Yeah.
SHERLOCK Who was it? Donovan? I bet it was Donovan. Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Ah, Moriarty is smart. He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You’re gonna have to be strong to resist. You can’t kill an idea, can you? Not once it’s made a home...(he reaches forward and briefly places his index fingertip on Greg’s forehead between his eyes) ...there.
LESTRADE Will you come?
SHERLOCK (turning away, sitting down at the laptop and beginning to type) One photograph – that’s his next move. Moriarty’s game first the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch.
(Picking up the camera again, he looks at it for a moment, then raises his eyes to Greg’s.) SHERLOCK It is a game, Lestrade, and not one I’m willing to play. (looking away again) Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan.
(Sighing and exchanging a brief look with John, Greg turns and heads off down the stairs. John watches him go, then turns back towards Sherlock who has now linked the camera into the computer so that he can pull up the footage on the computer screen. Downstairs, Greg walks along the hallway and glowers at Sally who is waiting at the front door. He walks past her and out into the street. She turns and watches him unhappily, then follows. Upstairs, John has gone over to the right-hand window and looks out at the car parked outside as Greg and Sally go over to it and get in, Greg glancing up towards the window momentarily. As the car starts, Sherlock briefly looks at John.)

SHERLOCK They’ll be deciding.
JOHN Deciding?
SHERLOCK Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me.
JOHN You think?
SHERLOCK Standard procedure.
JOHN Should have gone with him. People’ll think...
SHERLOCK I don’t care what people think.
JOHN You’d care if they thought you were stupid, or wrong.
SHERLOCK No, that would just make them stupid or wrong.
(Angrily, John turns towards him.)
JOHN Sherlock, I don’t want the world believing you’re...
(He breaks off as Sherlock lifts his head to look at him. They lock eyes for a long moment.) SHERLOCK That I am what?
JOHN A fraud.
(Sherlock rolls his eyes and sits back in the seat.)
SHERLOCK You’re worried they’re right.
JOHN What?
SHERLOCK You’re worried they’re right about me.
JOHN No.
SHERLOCK That’s why you’re so upset. You can’t even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You’re afraid that you’ve been taken in as well.
JOHN (turning away and look out of the window again) No I’m not.
(Sherlock leans forward.)
SHERLOCK Moriarty is playing with your mind too. (Furious, he slams his hand onto the table.) Can’t you see what’s going on?
(John looks at him for a few seconds, then looks out of the window again.)
JOHN No, I know you’re for real.
SHERLOCK A hundred percent?
JOHN (quietly, turning back towards him) Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time.
(Sherlock locks eyes with him again, then his mouth twitches with the trace of a smile. John looks away once more.)
SCOTLAND YARD. Greg is sitting in front of the desk of the Chief Superintendant while Sally and Anderson stand nearby. The Chief walks around his desk to sit down behind it. CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT Sherlock Holmes?
LESTRADE Yes, sir.
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT That bloke that’s been in the press.
LESTRADE Mmm-hmm.
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT I thought he was some sort of private eye.
LESTRADE He is.
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT We’ve been consulting with him – that’s what you’re...you’re telling me?
(Greg nods.)
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT Not used him on any proper cases, though, have we? LESTRADE Well, one or two.
(Anderson, his arms folded and looking down at his feet, snorts quietly.)
ANDERSON (softly) Or twenty or thirty.
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT What?
LESTRADE Look, I’m not the only senior officer who did this. Gregson...
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT (interrupting) Shut up! An amateur detective given access to all sorts of classified information, and now he’s a suspect in a case!
LESTRADE With all due respect, sir...

CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT (interrupting) You’re a bloody idiot, Lestrade! Now go and fetch him in right now!
(Greg hesitates.)
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT (sternly) Do it.

(Greg stands up and the three of them leave the room. The Chief Superintendant takes his glasses off and buries his head in his hand. Outside the others are on their way across the main office.)
LESTRADE Are you proud of yourselves?

ANDERSON Well, what if it’s not just this case? What if he’s done this to us every single time?
(Sally grabs her coat from the coat stand as she goes past. Anderson apparently doesn’t need one, being a cold-blooded reptile who won’t feel the temperature drop outside. Greg stops for his own coat, then takes his phone out and starts dialling. Hanging back from the other two, he raises the phone to his ear.)

Shortly afterwards, John – standing in the centre of the living room at 221B – lowers his own phone from his ear and switches it off. He turns to Sherlock who is now sitting in his armchair.
JOHN So, still got some friends on the Force. It’s Lestrade. Says they’re all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap on the handcuffs every single officer you ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people.

(Sherlock appears to be taking no notice of him, and now Mrs Hudson knocks on the closed living room door with her customary “Ooh-ooh!” and then comes in. She apparently feels the tension in the room.)
MRS HUDSON Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?
(Sherlock rolls his eyes and looks away. She turns her attention to John.)
MRS HUDSON Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Marked ‘Perishable’ – I had to sign for it.
(John takes the Jiffy bag from her and immediately realises that there’s a wax seal over the flap. Sherlock looks across and also sees the seal.)
MRS HUDSON Funny name. German, like the fairytales.
(Sherlock rises to his feet and walks forward, his gaze intense and locked on the Jiffy bag as John opens it and pulls out the contents. Outside, the sirens of several different vehicles are approaching. In John’s hand is a large gingerbread man but it’s an unusual colour. He tilts it so that Sherlock can see it better.)
SHERLOCK Burnt to a crisp.
(The sirens stop as the vehicles pull up outside, and doors start to slam as people get out of the cars.)
JOHN (referring to the burnt gingerbread man) What does it mean?
(The doorbell rings and at the same time someone pounds on the front door knocker.) VOICE Police!
MRS HUDSON I’ll go.
(She turns and hurries down the stairs as someone continues to knock on the door. Voices can be heard as she opens the door.)
DONOVAN (offscreen) Sherlock....
LESTRADE (offscreen) Evening, Mrs Hudson.
DONOVAN (calling up the stairs) We need to talk to you!
(John puts the gingerbread man back into the envelope and puts it on the table before heading out of the flat. Downstairs, Mrs Hudson sounds angry.)
MRS HUDSON (offscreen) Don’t barge in like that!
(Feet can be heard trotting up the stairs. Calmly Sherlock turns around and picks up his scarf and loops it around his neck. John is apparently blocking the stairs halfway up.) JOHN (offscreen) Have you got a warrant? Have you?

LESTRADE (offscreen) Leave it, John.
MRS HUDSON (offscreen) Really! Manners!
(Sherlock puts his coat on. Shortly afterwards Greg stands in front of him and reads him his rights while one of two armed officers attaches handcuffs to his left wrist.)
LESTRADE Sherlock Holmes, I’m arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping. (John gestures towards Sherlock while looking at Greg as the officer pulls Sherlock’s left hand behind his back in order to cuff his other wrist.)
JOHN He’s not resisting.
SHERLOCK It’s all right, John.
JOHN He’s not resisting. No, it’s not all right. This is ridiculous.
LESTRADE (to the officer who just handcuffed Sherlock) Get him downstairs now.
(The officer spins Sherlock around and marches him out of the door. Mrs Hudson stands nearby almost in tears.)
JOHN (to Greg) You know you don’t have to do....
LESTRADE (getting into his face and pointing at him sternly) Don’t try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too.
(He turns and leaves the room. John turns to Sally who is standing near the door.)
JOHN You done?
DONOVAN (looking smug and oh-so-very punchable as she walks into the room) Oh, I said it.
JOHN Mmm-hmm?
DONOVAN First time we met.
JOHN Don’t bother.
DONOVAN “Solving crimes won’t be enough. One day he’ll cross the line.” Now, ask yourself what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he can impress us all by finding them?
(Mrs Hudson gasps. Just then the Chief Superintendant walks in.)
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT Donovan.
DONOVAN Sir.
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT Got our man?
DONOVAN Er, yes, sir.
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me.
(John turns towards him.)
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT Often are, these vigilante types.
(He has been looking around the living room as he spoke but now he turns and sees John staring at him.)
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT What are you looking at?
(Sally’s eyes widen and she instantly lowers her head as if she knows what’s coming and can’t bear to look. John starts to move.)
A minute or two later, the Chief Superintendant walks out onto the street holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose.
POLICE OFFICER Are you all right, sir?
(Nearby, Sherlock has been leaned against the side of a police car, facing it. Now John is slammed up against the car next to him and to his left. Sherlock looks across to him with an amused expression on his face.)
SHERLOCK Joining me?
JOHN Yeah. Apparently it’s against the law to chin the Chief Superintendant.
(Behind them, a couple of armed officers unlock the cuff on Sherlock’s right hand and transfer it to John’s right wrist, chaining the boys together. Fandom collectively faints. Sherlock looks over his shoulder, watching what the officers are doing and where they’re standing.)
SHERLOCK (to John) Hmm. Bit awkward, this.

JOHN Huh. No-one to bail us.
SHERLOCK I was thinking more about our imminent and daring escape.
(He looks down at the radio lying on the dashboard of the car they’re leaning against. The radio squeals as the dispatcher speaks.)
RADIO DISPATCHER All units to two-seven.
(John looks round at Sherlock’s previous statement.)
JOHN What?
RADIO DISPATCHER All units to two...
(Rapidly Sherlock reaches through the open window of the car with his free hand and presses down on the Talk button. Instantly the officer behind the boys doubles over in pain and grabs at his earpiece as a high-pitched squeal of feedback rips through it. Sherlock reaches behind him and pulls the officer’s pistol free, instantly raising it. As it’s in his left hand, John’s shackled right hand is yanked upwards as well and he gasps in surprise at the rapid turn of events. Sherlock calls out as he aims the pistol towards the nearest officers.)
SHERLOCK Ladies and gentlemen, will you all please get on your knees?
(Nearby, Greg’s whole body language says, ‘Oh, FFS...’ When nobody reacts very quickly, Sherlock raises the gun skywards and fires it twice.)
SHERLOCK NOW would be good!
(He lowers it and points it at the police again.)
LESTRADE Do as he says!
(He gestures everybody downwards and all the police start to kneel. The boys start to back away.)
JOHN (loudly) Just-just so you’re aware, the gun is his idea. I’m just a...you know... (Sherlock transfers the pistol to his right hand and promptly aims it at John’s head.) SHERLOCK (loudly) ...my hostage.
(John gasps.)
JOHN (quietly, to Sherlock) Hostage! Yes, that works – that works
(They continue backing away from the kneeling police. Behind them and probably unnoticed in all the excitement, a new piece of artistic graffiti has been sprayed on the wall of the house on the street corner. In red paint, huge letters spelling out “iou” are at least three feet high and are surrounded by an elaborate dark set of angel’s wings. The boys begin to back carefully around the corner.)
JOHN So what now?
SHERLOCK Doing what Moriarty wants – I’m becoming a fugitive. Run.
(He turns and begins to race off down the road, dragging John with him. Back at the police cars, Greg buries his head in his hands. The Chief Superintendant gets to his feet and turns to him.)
CHIEF SUPERINTENDANT Get after him, Lestrade!
(Greg glares furiously at Sally as she begins to head in the direction the boys have gone. Greg is a lot slower in getting moving. Around the corner as the boys run along side by side, Sherlock loops the loose chain between their handcuffs around his wrist.) SHERLOCK Take my hand.
JOHN (grabbing his hand as they race onwards) Now people will definitely talk.
(Sirens are approaching at the junction ahead of them. Sherlock swerves to his left and drops the pistol in the process. It clatters to the ground.)
JOHN The gun!
SHERLOCK Leave it!
(He shoves John down a side alley as the police car races straight across the junction. They run down the alleyway and reach high railings blocking their way. Sherlock, with his customary flair, leaps up onto the top of a dustbin and vaults straight over the top of the railings. John, being an adorable short-arse and also not as close to the dustbin, is left

behind; his right hand is dragged upwards and his face almost smashes against the railings as Sherlock drops to the other side.)
JOHN Sherlock, wait!
(He reaches through the railings with his free hand and grabs Sherlock’s coat, dragging him closer and glaring into his face.)

JOHN (speaking clearly and sternly) We’re going to need to coordinate. (Sherlock quickly scans all around them.)
SHERLOCK Go to your right.
JOHN Huh?

SHERLOCK Go to your right.
(He looks upwards and goes up onto his tiptoes to get the chain of the cuffs over the top of one of the spikes at the top of the railings.)
(Not long afterwards, they’re on the same side of the railings and running down the alley again. Reaching a T-junction Sherlock turns to the right, then immediately brakes and ducks back again as a sirening police car races past the end of the alley. The two of them lean side by side against the wall catching their breath for a moment.)
SHERLOCK Everybody wants to believe it – that’s what makes it so clever. (He looks at John.) A lie that’s preferable to the truth. (Looking away again, his voice becomes bitter.) All my brilliant deductions were just a sham. No-one feels inadequate – Sherlock Holmes is just an ordinary man.
JOHN What about Mycroft? He could help us.
(He grunts as Sherlock drags him across to the other side of the alley and peers down the left arm of the T-junction.)
SHERLOCK A big family reconciliation? Now’s not really the moment.
(He spins around, dragging John in a circle behind him as he looks back the way they came. John spots something at the end of the right arm of the T-junction.)
JOHN Sher..., Sherlock.
(He elbows him with his cuffed arm to turn him in that direction. A face is peering around the corner at the end of the alley.)
JOHN We’re being followed. I knew we couldn’t outrun the police.
SHERLOCK That’s not the police. It’s one of my new neighbours from Baker Street. Let’s see if he can give us some answers.
(He breaks in the opposite direction from where the man is watching them. Running to the next corner, they flatten themselves against the wall as they reach it and Sherlock looks around the corner. There’s no sign of any police in the street but a double decker bus – the number 74 to Baker Street Station – is approaching. Sherlock presses himself back against the wall again.)
JOHN Where are we going?
SHERLOCK We’re going to jump in front of that bus.
JOHN What?!
(But Sherlock’s already on the move and drags John out into the street. The assassin races after them. Halfway across the road, Sherlock screeches to a halt directly in front of the approaching bus. John’s impetus carries him past Sherlock before he’s able to turn and now they’re both facing the bus and not moving. The assassin charges into the road, throws himself at them and shoves them out of the way and all three of them tumble to the ground as the bus drives past, its horn blaring. Before the assassin can recover, Sherlock sits up and drags the man’s own gun from his jeans, then cocks and points it at him.) SHERLOCK Tell me what you want from me.
(The man stares at him wide-eyed but doesn’t speak. Sherlock moves the gun’s muzzle closer to him.)
SHERLOCK Tell me.
ASSASSIN He left it at your flat.

SHERLOCK Who?
ASSASSIN Moriarty.
SHERLOCK What?
(All three of them start to get to their feet, Sherlock still holding the gun on the other man.) ASSASSIN The computer keycode.

SHERLOCK Of course. He’s selling it – the programme he used to break into the Tower. He planted it when he came around.
(Three gunshots ring out and the assassin reels and drops to the ground. Sherlock stares up in the direction the bullets came from, then swings around and he and John race off. As police sirens approach again, they duck into an open doorway as yet another police car drives past the end of the road. They take a moment to catch their breath again.) SHERLOCK It’s a game-changer. It’s a key – it can break into any system and it’s sitting in our flat right now. That’s why he left that message telling everyone where to come. “Get Sherlock.” We need to get back into the flat and search.

JOHN CID’ll be camped out. Why plant it on you?
SHERLOCK It’s another subtle way of smearing my name. Now I’m best pals with all those criminals.
(John has spotted a pile of newspapers nearby and he picks up the top copy.)
JOHN Yeah, well, have you seen this?
(It’s a copy of “The Sun” – the same edition that Mycroft had at the Diogenes Club that morning, telling of the upcoming exposé by Kitty Riley. John shows it to Sherlock.)
JOHN A kiss and tell. Some bloke called Rich Brook.
(Sherlock slowly turns his head – clearly the name means something to him. John is still looking at the paper and doesn’t see his expression.)
JOHN Who is he?
Kitty Riley parks her car outside her home, gets out and locks the car before walking to the front door. Opening it, she walks along the hall to the door of her flat, then pauses and looks at the door nervously as she realises that it is slightly ajar. Hesitantly she pushes the door open and reaches for the light switch on the wall. The lights come on and she is greeted with the sight of Sherlock and John sitting side by side on her sofa, each of them drumming the fingers of their handcuffed hand on their respective knees.
SHERLOCK Too late to go on the record?
Not long afterwards, Kitty is sitting in an armchair while the boys stand in the middle of the room. Sherlock is using a hairpin to pick the lock on his handcuff.
SHERLOCK (to Kitty) Congratulations. The truth about Sherlock Holmes.
(He frees his hand and gives the hairpin to John before starting to pace back and forth in front of Kitty.)
SHERLOCK The scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo.
KITTY I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so...
SHERLOCK And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?
(Kitty shakes her head, refusing to tell him any more.)
SHERLOCK Oh, come on, Kitty. No-one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone.
(John finally frees his own hand from the cuffs.)
SHERLOCK There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés; those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets. (Sternly) What were his credentials? (Outside in the hallway there have been the sounds of someone coming in through the main front door. Now Kitty looks towards the door of the flat and rises to her feet with a concerned look on her face as someone pushes her door open. Sherlock turns to follow

her gaze as Jim Moriarty, unshaven and with his hair messy and wearing casual clothes including a cardigan, walks in with a shopping bag.)
JIM Darling, they didn’t have any ground coffee so I just got normal...
(He raises his eyes and stares in terror at the sight of Sherlock, whose own eyes widen. Jim drops the shopping bag and backs away until he bumps into the wall behind him, holding his hands up protectively in front of him.)

JIM (his voice trembling) You said that they wouldn’t find me here. You said that I’d be safe here.
KITTY You are safe, Richard. I’m a witness. He wouldn’t harm you in front of witnesses. (John, his face full of shock, points at Jim.)

JOHN (to Kitty) So that’s your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?!
(His teeth are bared and he glares at Jim, breathing heavily in pure fury.)
KITTY Of course he’s Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been.
JOHN What are you talking about?
KITTY Look him up. Rich Brook – an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty. (Sherlock stares at Jim, who is still holding his hands up and looking at everyone nervously. Jim’s voice is shaking as he turns to John.)
JIM Doctor Watson, I know you’re a good man.
(He backs into the corner of the room, appearing terrified under John’s ferocious glare.) JIM Don’t...don’t h... Don’t hurt me.
(John screams at him, pointing towards him furiously.)
JOHN No, you are Moriarty! (He turns his head briefly and yells at Kitty.) He’s Moriarty! (He turns back to Jim.) We’ve met, remember? You were gonna blow me up!
(Jim puts his hands briefly over his face, then holds them up in front of himself again, sounding as if he is almost crying in fear.)
JIM I’m sorry. I’m sorry. (He gestures towards Sherlock.) He paid me. I needed the work. I’m an actor. I was out of work. I’m sorry, okay?
(Breathing heavily, John turns to Sherlock.)
JOHN Sherlock, you’d better...explain...because I am not getting this.
KITTY Oh I’ll...I’ll be doing the explaining – in print. (She hands John a folder.) It’s all here – conclusive proof.
(John looks at an early typed sheet of her upcoming article, then turns to the proof copy showing the layout of how it will appear in the newspaper, with spaces left for photographs. The headline reads, ”Sherlock’s a fake!” with the strapline, “He invented all the crimes”.) KITTY (looking at Sherlock) You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis.
JOHN (upset) Invented him?
KITTY Mmm-hmm. Invented all the crimes, actually – and to cap it all, you made up a master villain.
JOHN Oh, don’t be ridiculous!
(Kitty turns and points towards Jim.)
KITTY Ask him. He’s right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard.
JOHN (furiously) Look, for God’s sake, this man was on trial!
KITTY Yes...(she points at Sherlock)...and you paid him; paid him to take the rap. Promised you’d rig the jury.
(Sherlock stares at her silently.)
KITTY Not exactly a West End role, but I’ll bet the money was good.
(She walks over to Jim and puts her arm around his shoulders as he stands with his hands still held out in front of himself.)
KITTY But not so good he didn’t want to sell his story.
(Jim looks plaintively at John, putting his hands together pleadingly.)
JIM I am sorry. I am. I am sorry.

JOHN (to Kitty) So-,so this is the story that you’re gonna publish. The big conclusion of it all Moriarty’s an actor?!
(He shakes his head in disbelief.)
JIM He knows I am. I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty! Show him something! JOHN Yeah, show me something.

(Kitty walks across the room. John turns to watch her as she reaches into a bag for more information. Behind them, Jim has put his hands over his face but now he pulls his hands away from his eyes a little and looks towards Sherlock, whose own gaze has barely left him since he arrived. For a brief moment, he reveals his true self and he smiles triumphantly at his enemy. Sherlock half-smiles back at him but there’s no humour in his eyes. Kitty takes out a folder, walks over to John and gives it to him.)

JIM (slipping back into his Richard persona and sounding plaintive and panicked) I’m on TV. I’m on kids’ TV. I’m The Storyteller.
(John looks at copies of Richard Brook’s contact details apparently taken from an agency website, then a newspaper article showing a picture of Richard in glasses wearing medical scrubs and with a stethoscope around his neck. The article is headlined, “Award Winning Actor Joins The Cast of Top Medical Drama”.)

JIM I’m...I’m The Storyteller. It’s on DVD.
(He looks across to Sherlock again, this time keeping his Richard face on. John continues looking through the folder at other publicity stills of Rich together with his CV. Jim gestures towards John, looking at Sherlock pleadingly.)
JIM Just tell him. It’s all coming out now. It’s all over. (His voice becomes more frantic.) Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell him!
(Baring his teeth, Sherlock starts to walk towards him.)
JIM It’s all over now...NO!
(He backs away from Sherlock and up a short flight of stairs towards the bedroom on the upper level of the flat. His eyes are wide and terrified.)
JIM Don’t you touch me! Don’t you lay a finger on me!
SHERLOCK (furiously) Stop it. Stop it NOW!
(Jim turns and bolts up the stairs.)
JIM Don’t hurt me!
(Sherlock and John chase after him.)
JOHN Don’t let him get away!
KITTY Leave him alone!
(Jim runs into the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. With Kitty still at the bottom of the stairs and therefore unsighted, and John halfway up the stairs with his vision blocked by Sherlock ahead of him, Jim turns and grins manically at Sherlock for a brief second before slamming the door shut. Sherlock runs to the door and struggles momentarily to open it, then shoves it open but Jim has already disappeared through the open window opposite. There’s a crash outside as if Jim has landed on top of a dustbin. Sherlock looks out of the window, then turns to stop John.)
SHERLOCK No, no, no. He’ll have back-up.
(He heads towards the stairs. Kitty backs down to get out of his way but doesn’t move quickly, slowing him down.)
KITTY Do you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I look at you now and I can read you.
(He stops at the bottom of the stairs as she gets into his face.)
KITTY And you...repel...me.
(Sherlock turns and heads out of the door. John, still holding the folder of the articles about Rich, shoves Kitty aside and follows him. She closes the door behind them. The boys go out onto the street and John stops as Sherlock begins to pace rapidly back and forth in the middle of the road.)
JOHN Can he do that? Completely change his identity; make you the criminal?

SHERLOCK He’s got my whole life story. That’s what you do when you sell a big lie; you wrap it up in the truth to make it more palatable.
JOHN Your word against his.
SHERLOCK He’s been sowing doubt into people’s minds for the last twenty-four hours. There’s only one thing he needs to do to complete his game, and that’s to...

(He stops dead as he makes a realisation. John, who has still been rifling through the folder, looks up at his friend, who is turned away from him.)
JOHN Sherlock?
SHERLOCK Something I need to do.

JOHN What? Can I help?
SHERLOCK No – on my own.
(He briskly walks away. John watches him, sighing, then looks down at the papers again. He looks up and down the road and then apparently decides where he needs to go and heads off in the opposite direction.)
BART’S. Molly comes out of a small side room in a lab, switches off the lights and walks across the darkened lab, sighing tiredly. As she reaches the door to the corridor, Sherlock is standing in the darkness behind her with his face turned away from her. She doesn’t see him and reaches for the door handle.
SHERLOCK You’re wrong, you know.
(She gasps and jumps, spinning around towards him.)
SHERLOCK You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.
(He turns his head towards her.)
SHERLOCK But you were right. I’m not okay.
MOLLY Tell me what’s wrong.
SHERLOCK (slowly walking towards her) Molly, I think I’m going to die.
MOLLY What do you need?
SHERLOCK (still slowly approaching her) If I wasn’t everything that you think I am – everything that I think I am – would you still want to help me?
(Molly gazes up at him as he stops close to her.)
MOLLY What do you need?
(Sherlock steps even closer, his expression intense.)
SHERLOCK You.
THE DIOGENES CLUB. Mycroft walks across one of the common rooms, where an old man is fast asleep in an armchair, and goes into the smaller private room, reaching for the door handle to close it, but he stops as he realises that John is sitting in one of the armchairs with his back to him. John is still looking through Kitty’s file.
JOHN She has really done her homework, Miss Riley – things that only someone close to Sherlock could know.
MYCROFT (closing the door) Ah.
JOHN Have you seen your brother’s address book lately? Two names yours and mine, and Moriarty didn’t get this stuff from me.
(Mycroft walks across the room to face him.)
MYCROFT John...
JOHN So how does it work, then, your relationship? Do you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and Jim?
(Mycroft sits down in the chair opposite and opens his mouth but John interrupts again. His voice is full of controlled anger.)
JOHN Your own brother, and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac.
MYCROFT I never inten... I never dreamt...
JOHN (interrupting) So this...th-th-this...(he looks through the papers again)...is what you were trying to tell me, isn’t it “Watch his back, ’cause I’ve made a mistake.”

(He slaps the papers down on the table beside his chair and sits back, clearing his throat as he tries to stay calm.)
JOHN How did you meet him?
(Mycroft draws in a long breath.)

MYCROFT People like him we know about them; we watch them. But James Moriarty... the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, and in his pocket the ultimate weapon a keycode. A few lines of computer code that could unlock any door.
JOHN And you abducted him to try and find the keycode?

MYCROFT Interrogated him for weeks.
(Flashback to Mycroft watching through a one-way mirror as, in the cell on the other side of the mirror – the cell we saw at the end of “The Hounds of Baskerville” – a man viciously beats a seated Jim across the face.)
JOHN And?
MYCROFT He wouldn’t play along.
(In the flashback, Jim slowly turns his head towards the front after the blow and stares up at his interrogator, who strikes him again.)
MYCROFT He just sat there, staring into the darkness.
(Again Jim turns his head to the front, appearing unphased by the assault. The interrogator strikes him again.)
MYCROFT The only thing that made him open up...
(Ruefully he gestures to himself. In the flashback, Mycroft opens the door to the cell and stops in the doorway. Jim lifts his head and looks at Mycroft’s reflection in the mirror in front of him.)
MYCROFT I could get him to talk...
(Mycroft comes into the room and turns to shut the door behind him. Jim closes his eyes and smiles blissfully as Mycroft walks closer.)
MYCROFT ...just a little, but...
(He trails off. John grimly finishes the sentence for him.)
JOHN ...in return you had to offer him Sherlock’s life story. So one big lie – Sherlock’s a fraud – but people will swallow it because the rest of it’s true.
(He leans forward in his chair.)
JOHN Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? And you have given him the perfect ammunition.
(He smiles bitterly at him. Mycroft lowers his eyes. John pulls in a sharp breath and then gets to his feet, turning towards the door.)
MYCROFT John...
(John turns back. Mycroft looks up at him.)
MYCROFT (softly) I’m sorry.
JOHN (tightly) Oh, please...
(He shakes his head in disbelief and turns away, laughing humourlessly as he walks to the door.)
MYCROFT Tell him, would you?
(John opens the door and walks away, leaving the door open behind him.)
BART’S LAB. The lights are now on. Sherlock sits alone on the floor with his back against the bench. He is bouncing a small rubber ball off the floor and cupboard in front of him and catching it before repeating the movement constantly. John comes in.
JOHN Got your message.
(Sherlock catches the ball and holds on to it.)
SHERLOCK The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it – beat Moriarty at his own game.
JOHN What do you mean, “use it”?

SHERLOCK He used it to create a false identity, so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook.
JOHN And bring back Jim Moriarty again.
SHERLOCK (standing up) Somewhere in 221B, somewhere – on the day of the verdict – he left it hidden.

(He turns and faces the bench, putting both hands on the work surface. John walks to stand beside him, unconsciously mimicking his stance.)
JOHN Uh-huh.
(Both of them stare ahead of them, thinking. John purses his lips, then looks at Sherlock.) JOHN What did he touch?

SHERLOCK An apple. Nothing else.
(He briefly drums his fingers on the bench.)
JOHN Did he write anything down?
SHERLOCK No.
(John hisses in a breath and looks away, racking his brains and again unconsciously mimicking his friend by drumming his own fingers on the bench. After a moment, he turns and walks across the lab, blowing the breath out again. Sherlock lifts the fingers of his right hand, hesitates for a moment, then begins to drum them again but now he’s beating out a specific rhythm as, in his mind, binary code begins to stream out from his fingers. He lifts his head as John sighs heavily, unaware of Sherlock’s sharpened expression. Straightening up, Sherlock turns his back to John, takes his phone out of his pocket and begins to type a text message
Come and play.
Bart’s Hospital rooftop.
SH
He pauses for a moment, then adds
PS. Got something
of yours you might
want back.
Sending the message, he tucks his phone away into his jacket and then turns back towards the bench, his eyes full of thought.)
Some hours later, dawn is breaking. Sherlock is still in the same place, although he’s now sitting down with his feet up on the bench. He is rapidly rolling the rubber ball from side to side across the bench, his fingers flickering rapidly over the top of the ball. John has sat on a stool at a nearby bench and has his head down on his folded arms, asleep. His phone rings. Lifting his head tiredly, he groans and answers the phone.
JOHN Yeah, speaking.
(He listens for a moment.)
JOHN (shocked) Er, what?
(He gets to his feet.)
JOHN What happened? Is she okay? (He listens.) Oh my God. Right, yes, I’m coming.
(He switches the phone off.)
SHERLOCK What is it?
JOHN Paramedics. Mrs Hudson – she’s been shot.
SHERLOCK What? How?
JOHN (frantically) Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract...Jesus. Jesus. She’s dying, Sherlock. Let’s go.
(He turns towards the door.)
SHERLOCK (disinterestedly) You go. I’m busy.
(John turns back towards him, his face appalled.)
JOHN Busy?
SHERLOCK Thinking. I need to think.

JOHN You need to...? Doesn’t she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her.
SHERLOCK (shrugging) She’s my landlady.
JOHN (furiously) She’s dying...

(He flails a hand in front of himself in utter disbelief at Sherlock’s attitude.)
JOHN You machine.
(He looks down, shaking his head.)
JOHN Sod this. Sod this. (He heads towards the door.) You stay here if you want, on your own.

SHERLOCK Alone is what I have. Alone protects me.
JOHN (opening the door and looking back at him angrily) No. Friends protect people.
(He storms out of the room. Sherlock lifts his gaze towards the door. A moment later his phone trills a text alert. He reaches into his pocket and looks at the message
I’m waiting...
JM
Taking his feet off the bench and standing up, he walks across the lab buttoning his jacket. He picks up his coat, opens the door and leaves the room.)
On the roof of the hospital, daylight has come. Jim Moriarty – now back in a typical smart suit and overcoat and with his hair slicked back – calmly sits on the raised ledge at the edge of the building with his phone in his hand as The Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive” plays from it. He doesn’t look at Sherlock as he comes onto the roof and walks towards him.
JIM Ah. Here we are at last – you and me, Sherlock, and our problem – the final problem. (He holds the phone up higher.)
JIM Stayin’ alive! It’s so boring, isn’t it?
(Angrily he switches the phone off.)
JIM It’s just...(he holds his hand out flat with the palm down and skims it slowly through the air level to the roof)...staying.
(He pulls his hand back and briefly sinks his head into it as Sherlock paces around the roof.)
JIM All my life I’ve been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don’t even have you. Because I’ve beaten you.
(Sherlock’s head turns sharply towards him as he continues to pace.)
JIM And you know what? In the end it was easy.
(Sherlock stops and folds his hands behind his back.)
JIM (quietly, disappointed) It was easy. Now I’ve got to go back to playing with the ordinary people. And it turns out you’re ordinary just like all of them.
(He lowers his head again and rubs his face before looking up at Sherlock.)
JIM Ah well.
(He stands up and walks closer, then starts to pace slowly around the detective.)
JIM Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?
SHERLOCK Richard Brook.
JIM Nobody seems to get the joke, but you do.
SHERLOCK Of course.
JIM Attaboy.
SHERLOCK Rich Brook in German is Reichen Bach – the case that made my name.
JIM (in a fake American accent) Just tryin’ to have some fun.
(As he continues to pace around him, he looks down to Sherlock’s hands and sees that he is beating out a rhythm with his fingers.)
JIM Good. You got that too.
SHERLOCK Beats like digits.
(Flashback to Jim sitting at 221B drumming his fingers on his knee.)

SHERLOCK Every beat is a one; every rest is a zero. Binary code. That’s why all those assassins tried to save my life. It was hidden on me; hidden inside my head – a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system.
JIM I told all my clients last one to Sherlock is a sissy.

SHERLOCK (gesturing to his own head) Yes, but now that it’s up here, I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty.
(Jim gazes at him for a moment, then turns away with a disappointed look on his face.) JIM No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy.

(He buries his head in his hands.)
JIM This is too easy.
(Lowering his hands, he turns back to Sherlock.)
JIM There is no key, DOOFUS!
(He screams the last word into Sherlock’s face.)
JIM Those digits are meaningless. They’re utterly meaningless.
(Sherlock can’t hide the confusion on his face.)
JIM You don’t really think a couple of lines of computer code are gonna crash the world around our ears? I’m disappointed.
(He turns away and lumbers across the roof, making his voice sound moronic as he continues speaking.)
JIM I’m disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock.
SHERLOCK But the rhythm...
JIM “Partita number one.” Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach.
SHERLOCK But then how did...
JIM (speaking over him) Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison? (He turns and spreads his arms wide.)
JIM Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants.
(In flashback at the White Tower, Jim selects the Crown icon on his phone. A message is automatically sent to the man in the surveillance room who hasn’t gone to make tea. He lifts his own phone to see the message “it’s showtime !” then types on his keyboard and the alarms begin to sound as the security screens go blank. He gets up from the desk and hurries off, presumably to close the security door that will shut Jim into the Crown Jewels display room.)
JIM I knew you’d fall for it. That’s your weakness – you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building – nice way to do it.
(Sherlock has been staring blankly into the distance. Now he sounds bewildered as he speaks.)
SHERLOCK Do it? Do – do what?
(He blinks as it becomes clearer to him and he turns towards Jim.)
SHERLOCK Yes, of course. My suicide.
JIM “Genius detective proved to be a fraud.” I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales.
(Sherlock walks to the edge of the roof and leans forward, looking over the side to the ground below. Jim walks to stand beside him and looks over the side as well.)
JIM And pretty Grimm ones too.
(He turns his head and looks ominously at Sherlock.)
221B. A taxi pulls up outside and John jumps out and hurries towards the door, scrabbling for his keys. As he hurries inside, the man with the stepladder is standing at the top of it just in front of the stairs and is drilling a hole into the wall. Mrs Hudson is standing nearby watching him. As John runs towards her, she jolts in startlement, having not heard his approach over the sound of the drill.
MRS HUDSON Oh, God, John! You made me jump!

JOHN (staring at her in confusion) But...
MRS HUDSON Is everything okay now with the police? Has, um, Sherlock sorted it all out?
(John stares for a moment longer and then it suddenly sinks in.)
JOHN (softly, his voice full of horror) Oh my God.
(He turns around and runs out again, looking up and down the street frantically. Luckily he immediately sees what he needs.)
JOHN Taxi!
(A cab begins to pull over on the other side of the road. John chases across the road towards it.)
JOHN Taxi!
(A man is standing at the side of the road having also just hailed the cab. As he leans into the front window to tell the driver his destination, John runs around the cab and pulls open the rear door, talking even as he scrambles inside.)
JOHN No, no, no, no, police!...Sort of.
MAN (walking away angrily) Oh, thanks, mate – thanks a lot
BART’S ROOFTOP. The two men have turned towards each other at the edge of the roof. SHERLOCK I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity.
JIM (wearily exasperated) Oh, just kill yourself. It’s a lot less effort.
(Sherlock turns away, pacing distractedly.)
JIM Go on. For me.
(He makes his voice into a high-pitched squeal for the next word.)
JIM Pleeeeeease?
(In a sudden movement, Sherlock grabs him by the collar of his coat with both hands and spins him around so that Jim’s back is to the drop. He stares into his face and then shoves him back one step nearer the edge. Jim looks at him with interest as Sherlock’s breathing becomes shorter.)
SHERLOCK You’re insane.
(Jim blinks.)
JIM You’re just getting that now?
(Sherlock shoves him further back, now holding him over the edge. Jim whoops almost triumphantly and gazes back at Sherlock with no fear in his eyes, holding his hands out wide and committing himself to Sherlock’s grasp.)
JIM Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive.
(Sherlock frowns. Jim’s voice becomes more savage.)
JIM Your friends will die if you don’t.
(Fear begins to creep into Sherlock’s eyes.)
SHERLOCK ...John?
JIM Not just John. (In a whisper) Everyone.
SHERLOCK Mrs Hudson?
JIM (in a whisper, with a delighted smile) Everyone.
SHERLOCK Lestrade?
JIM Three bullets; three gunmen; three victims. There’s no stopping them now.
(Furiously, Sherlock pulls Jim back upwards to safety. Jim stares into his face.)
JIM Unless my people see you jump.
(Sherlock gazes past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Jim shakes himself free of his grasp and smiles triumphantly.)
JIM You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me; but nothing’s gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die...unless...
SHERLOCK ...unless I kill myself – complete your story.
(Jim nods and smiles ecstatically.)

JIM You’ve gotta admit that’s sexier.
SHERLOCK (his gaze distant and lost) And I die in disgrace.
JIM Of course. That’s the point of this.
(He looks over the side and sees that someone has stopped at the benches near the bus stop below them.)
JIM Oh, you’ve got an audience now. Off you pop.
(He rolls his head from side to side on his neck.)
JIM Go on.
(Sherlock slowly steps past him and up onto the ledge.)
JIM I told you how this ends.
(Sherlock’s breathing becomes more shaky as he looks down.)
JIM (not even looking at him) Your death is the only thing that’s gonna call off the killers. I’m certainly not gonna do it.
(Now he turns his head and looks up at his enemy expectantly. Sherlock blinks anxiously.) SHERLOCK Would you give me...one moment, please. one moment of privacy?
(He glances down at Jim.)
SHERLOCK Please?
(Jim looks disappointed that Sherlock should be so ‘ordinary’.)
JIM Of course.
(He moves away across the roof. Sherlock takes several shallow anxious breaths, then he stops breathing for a moment as his brain kicks into gear again. He lifts his gaze as his expression becomes more like the Sherlock we know and his eyes become thoughtful. Slowly a smile spreads across his face and he starts to chuckle. Behind him, Jim is slowly walking across the roof but he stops, his expression livid, as Sherlock laughs with delight. Jim spins around furiously.)
JIM What?
(Sherlock continues to laugh.)
JIM (angrily) What is it?
(Sherlock half turns on the ledge, smiling towards him as he glares back.)
JIM (angrily) What did I miss?
(Sherlock hops down off the ledge and walks closer to him.)
SHERLOCK “You’re not going to do it.” So the killers can be called off, then – there’s a recall code or a word or a number.
(Now he’s the one circling his prey.)
SHERLOCK I don’t have to die...(his voice becomes sing-song)...if I’ve got you.
JIM Oh! (He laughs in relieved delight.) You think you can make me stop the order? You think you can make me do that?
SHERLOCK (still circling him) Yes. So do you.
JIM Sherlock, your big brother and all the King’s horses couldn’t make me do a thing I didn’t want to.
SHERLOCK (stopping and getting into Jim’s face) Yes, but I’m not my brother, remember? I am you – prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won’t do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you.
(Jim shakes his head slowly.)
JIM Naah. You talk big. Naah. You’re ordinary. You’re ordinary – you’re on the side of the angels.
SHERLOCK (his voice becoming more ominous) Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don’t think for one second that I am one of them.
(The enemies lock eyes for a long moment as Jim tries to deduce how far Sherlock will go.)
JIM No, you’re not.

(He blinks, then closes his eyes briefly. Sherlock does likewise in an unintentional mirror movement. Jim smiles and opens his eyes again.)
JIM (softly, insanely) I see. You’re not ordinary. No. You’re me.
(He hisses out a delighted laugh and his voice becomes more high-pitched.)

JIM You’re me. Thank you.
(He lifts his hand as if to embrace Sherlock, but then lowers it and offers it to him to shake instead.)
JIM Sherlock Holmes.
(They both look down at the offered hand, then Sherlock slowly raises his own and takes it.)
JIM (nodding almost frenetically, though his voice stays soft) Thank you. Bless you.
(He blinks and lowers his gaze as if blinking back tears.)
JIM As long as I’m alive, you can save your friends; you’ve got a way out.
(He continues to blink with his gaze lowered.)
JIM Well, good luck with that.
(In rapid succession he raises his eyes to Sherlock’s, grins manically, opens his mouth wide and pulls Sherlock closer as he reaches into his waistband with his other hand and pulls a pistol out and raises it towards his own mouth. As Sherlock instinctively pulls back, crying out in alarm, Jim sticks the muzzle into his own mouth and pulls the trigger, dropping to the roof instantly. Sherlock stares in horror as blood begins to trickle across the roof underneath Jim’s head. Jim’s eyes are fixed and open and there is a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock spins away from him, his breathing noisy and frantic as he raises his hands to his head in horror.)
(Not far away and obviously unseen by Sherlock, one of the assassins trots up a staircase and then sits down on the stairs and begins to assemble a high-powered rifle. Meanwhile John sits anxiously in the taxi on his way back to Bart’s.)
(At 221, Mrs Hudson gives a mug of tea to the workman as he squats in the hallway. He takes it and smiles gratefully, then picks up one of his tools and puts it back into his toolbox. Lying on top of all the other tools is a pistol with a small silencer attached to it. He raises his eyes ominously in the direction of Mrs H as she goes back into 221A.)
(As the assassin on the staircase continues to assemble his rifle, at Scotland Yard a plain clothed police officer in the general office looks round to Greg’s office with his eyes narrowed as the D.I. speaks on the phone.)
LESTRADE (into phone) Yes, sir, thank you. Bye.
(On the stairwell, the assassin finishes his assembly, opens the nearby window and aims his gun out of it as John’s taxi gets closer to Bart’s.)
(On the rooftop, Sherlock breathes shallowly and rapidly, holding his sleeve up over his mouth in horror as he turns to look again at Jim’s fixed grin. He thinks frantically for a while, then slowly turns towards the edge of the building. His breathing begins to slow as he steps up onto the ledge, blows out another breath and looks down towards the ground. In the street below, John’s taxi pulls up. Sherlock takes out his phone and selects a speed dial. The answering phone begins to ring below him as John gets out of the taxi and raises his phone to his ear as he trots towards the hospital.)
JOHN Hello?
SHERLOCK John.
JOHN Hey, Sherlock, you okay?
SHERLOCK Turn around and walk back the way you came now.
JOHN No, I’m coming in.
SHERLOCK (frantically) Just do as I ask. Please.
JOHN (turning back and looking around bewildered) Where?
(Sherlock pauses for a moment as John walks along the road, then speaks urgently.) SHERLOCK Stop there.

JOHN (stopping) Sherlock?
SHERLOCK Okay, look up. I’m on the rooftop.
(John turns and looks up, his face filling with horror.)
JOHN Oh God.
SHERLOCK I...I...I can’t come down, so we’ll...we’ll just have to do it like this.
JOHN (anxiously) What’s going on?
SHERLOCK An apology. It’s all true.
JOHN Wh-what?
SHERLOCK Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty.
(He looks around briefly at his enemy’s grinning body lying behind him. On the ground, John stares up at his friend in disbelief.)
JOHN Why are you saying this?
(Sherlock turns back to look down at him. His voice breaks.)
SHERLOCK I’m a fake.
JOHN Sherlock...
SHERLOCK (his voice becoming tearful) The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs Hudson, and Molly...in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes.
JOHN Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met...the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?
SHERLOCK Nobody could be that clever.
JOHN You could.
(Sherlock laughs and gazes down at his friend, a tear dripping from his chin.)
SHERLOCK I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. (He sniffs quietly.) It’s a trick. Just a magic trick.
(John has his eyes closed and is shaking his head repeatedly.)
JOHN No. All right, stop it now.
(He starts to walk towards the hospital entrance.)
SHERLOCK (urgently) No, stay exactly where you are. Don’t move.
(John stops and backs up, holding his hand up towards Sherlock in capitulation.)
JOHN All right.
(Breathing rapidly, Sherlock unconsciously reaches out his own hand towards his friend.) SHERLOCK Keep your eyes fixed on me. (His voice becomes frantic.) Please, will you do this for me?
JOHN Do what?
SHERLOCK This phone call – it’s, er...it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?
(John shakes his head, momentarily taking his phone from his ear as the stress of what he’s beginning to understand hits him, then he raises it again, his voice shaky.)
JOHN Leave a note when?
SHERLOCK Goodbye, John.
JOHN (shaking his head) No. Don’t.
(Sherlock gazes down at his friend for several seconds, then he lowers his arm and drops the phone onto the roof, gazing ahead of himself. John lowers his own phone and screams upwards.)
JOHN No. SHERLOCK!
(Sherlock spreads his arms to either side and falls forward, plummeting towards the ground. John stares in utter horror.)
JOHN Sher...
(A couple of seconds later the body impacts the ground. John’s hearing whites out as his entire body focuses on getting to Sherlock as soon as he can. Sherlock had disappeared from view towards the end of his fall because a building got in the way of John’s view of

him, and John now runs to the corner of the building, then slows down and stops in the middle of the road as he gets his first glimpse of the still figure lying on the wet pavement, the lower part of his body obscured by a parked lorry. Behind John, a young man on a fast pedal cycle slams into him and sends him crashing to the ground, his head hitting the asphalt hard. Groaning, he struggles to stay conscious as, nearby, people begin to run towards the body on the pavement. The lorry pulls away and a couple of medics from the hospital hurry out and start trying to prevent the onlookers from getting too close. Grimacing with pain, John rolls onto his side and looks across to the pavement where Sherlock is lying on his side with a lot of blood under his head. Slowly John hauls himself to his feet and stumbles towards him as more onlookers gather, talking excitedly about what they saw. John forces himself onwards.)

JOHN (in a whisper) Sherlock, Sherlock...
(He reaches the crowd.)
JOHN I’m a doctor, let me come through. Let me come through, please.
(Some of the crowd try to hold him back but he pushes through them.)
JOHN No, he’s my friend. He’s my friend. Please.
(He reaches down to take hold of Sherlock’s wrist, searching for a pulse. A woman peels his fingers off as she and another person pull him away. As he reaches towards his friend again, more medics arrive with a wheeled stretcher.)
JOHN (frantically) Please, let me just...
(The impact of the shock and the bang on his head begin to take effect and his knees give out. As he slumps to the floor supported by a couple of onlookers, two people gently roll Sherlock onto his back revealing his blood stained face and wide staring eyes. John groans in utter despair.)
JOHN Nggh, Jesus, no.
(He tries to stand but sinks back again.)
JOHN God, no.
(As the onlookers support him, four people lift Sherlock’s body onto the stretcher and then rapidly wheel it away into the hospital. John stares after it, his face blank and uncomprehending. He finally manages to get to his feet and shakes off his helpers, staring blindly in the direction that his friend’s body was taken.)
(In a nearby building, a rifle sight is aimed directly at John’s head. As John continues to stand in profile to the sniper, a perfect target, the assassin lifts his gun back inside the window and begins to disassemble the weapon. Packing it into his bag, he stands up and walks away.)
DIOGENES CLUB. Mycroft is holding a copy of “The Sun”. Its headline screams “SUICIDE OF FAKE GENIUS” and the straplines state ”SUPER-SLEUTH IS DEAD” and ”Fraudulent detective takes his own life”. Folding the paper and putting it down on the table beside him, he stares blankly into the distance and then folds his hands in front of his face in the prayer position.
221B. John sits in his armchair, dressed but with his feet bare and tucked together in front of him. One hand is propping up his head and he gazes into the distance, lost and alone. ELLA’S OFFICE. As the rain continues to pour down, John gazes blankly at his therapist. ELLA There’s stuff that you wanted to say...
(John opens his mouth briefly and then closes it.)
ELLA ...but didn’t say it.
JOHN (his voice breaking) Yeah.
ELLA Say it now.
JOHN (tearfully) No. (He shakes his head.) Sorry. I can’t.
TAXI. John and Mrs Hudson are sitting in the back of a cab as it drives into a graveyard. Mrs H is holding a bunch of flowers. Not long afterwards, they stand beside each other in

front of a black marble headstone. The flowers are now resting at the base of the headstone.
MRS HUDSON There’s all the stuff, all the science equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don’t know what needs doing. I thought I’d take it to a school.
(She looks at John.)
MRS HUDSON Would you...?
JOHN I can’t go back to the flat again – not at the moment.
(She takes his arm sympathetically.)
JOHN I’m angry.
(He takes a deep breath through his nose, trying not to break down. She pats his arm gently.)
MRS HUDSON It’s okay, John. There’s nothing unusual in that. That’s the way he made everyone feel.
(She gazes at the smooth black marble which simply bears the words SHERLOCK HOLMES.)
MRS HUDSON All the marks on my table; and the noise – firing guns at half past one in the morning!
JOHN Yeah.
MRS HUDSON Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine – keeping bodies where there’s food!
JOHN Yes.
(He closes his eyes as she continues, her own voice breaking.)
MRS HUDSON And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings-on!
(John turns to her.)
JOHN Yeah, listen. I-I’m not actually that angry, okay?
MRS HUDSON Okay.
(She turns away, pulling her arm free of his.)
MRS HUDSON I’ll leave you alone to, erm...(her voice breaks again)...you know.
(Crying, she walks away, fishing out a tissue to blow her nose. John looks down at the grave, drawing in a deep breath. He looks back over his shoulder to see that Mrs Hudson is now out of earshot, then turns back to the grave again.)
JOHN (thoughtfully) Um...mmm. (He pulls himself together a little.) You...you told me once that you weren’t a hero. Umm...there were times I didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this you were the best man, and the most human...human being that I’ve ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, and so...There.
(He blows out a breath, whimpering slightly. Looking over his shoulder again, he walks over to the headstone and puts his fingertips onto the top of it.)
JOHN I was so alone, and I owe you so much.
(He takes a tearful breath.)
JOHN Okay.
(He turns and starts to walk away but only reaches the foot of the grave before he turns back again.)
JOHN No, please, there’s just one more thing, okay, one more thing one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don’t...be...(his voice breaks and fills with tears) ...dead. Would you do...? Just for me, just stop it. (He gestures down at the grave.) Stop this.
(He sighs and lowers his head and stands there, broken. Reflected in the smooth marble of the headstone, his figure appears to have the name SHERLOCK carved directly across his chest. He lowers his head further, covers his eyes with one hand and weeps. Finally he wipes his eyes, sniffs deeply and raises his head, coming to attention in front of his best friend. Nodding in salute to him and giving himself permission to dismiss, he turns smartly on one heel and then walks away.)

Standing some distance away under a tree and obscured from view by other headstones, Sherlock Holmes watches his best friend walk across the graveyard until he disappears from view. He looks reflective for a long moment, then turns and walks away.