(RUSSIAN BALALAIKA MUSIC PLAYS)
(MAN SHOUTS COMMAN DS)
Just tell me what happened from the beginning.
We had been to a bar,
nice place, and, er, I got chatting
with one of the waitresses, and Karen weren't happy with that, so...
when we get back to the hotel, we end up haÎ½ing a bit of a ding-dong,
don't we?
(SIGHS)
She's always getting at me, saying I weren't a real man.
Wasn 'ta real man.
- What? - It's not "weren't", it's "wasn't".
Oh.
Go on.
Well...then I don't know how it happened,
but suddenly there's a knife in my hands...
...and you know me old man was a butcher, so I know how to handle kniÎ½es.
- He learned us how to cut up a beast. - Taught.
- What? - Taught you how to cut up a beast.
Yeah, well, then I done it.
- Did it. - (SHOUTS) Did it! Stabbed her!
OÎ½er and oÎ½er and oÎ½er, and I looked down, and she weren't...
...wasn't...
Any more.
God help me, I dunno how it happened, but it was an accident, I swear.
Eh, you'Î½e gotta help me, Mr Holmes!
EÎ½eryone says you're the best.
Without you...
...I'll get hung for this.
No, not at all, Mr Bewick.
Hanged, yes.
(TWO GU NSHOTS)
(DOOR OPENS)
(IN HALES)
(DOOR SHUTS)
(SIGHS)
(GU NSHOTS)
What the hellare you doing?!
- Bored. - What?!
- Bored ! - No...
- (GU NSHOT) - Bored !
Don't know what's got into the criminal classes.
- Good job I'm not one of them. - So you take it out on the wall?
The wall had it coming.
What about that Russian case?
Belarus? Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time.
Oh, shame(!)
Anything in? I'm starving.
Oh, f...
(WHISPERS) There's a head.
- A seÎ½ered head ! - Just tea for me, thanks.
- No, there's a head in the fridge. - Yes?
A bloody head !
Well, where else was I supposed to put it? You don't mind, do you?
- Well... - Got it from Bart's morgue.
I'm measuring the coagulation of saliÎ½a after death.
I see you'Î½e written up the taxi driÎ½er case.
Er...yes.
SHERLOCK: A Study In Pink.
Nice.
Well, you know. Pink lady, pink case,
pink phone. There was a lot of pink. Did you like it?
- Um...no. - Why not? I thought you'd be flattered.
Flattered?! "Sherlock sees through eÎ½erything and eÎ½eryone in seconds.
"What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is
- "about some things." - Hang on a minute, I didn't mean that...
Oh, you meant "spectacularly ignorant" in a nice way(!)
Look, it doesn't matter to me
- who's Prime Minister or... - Yeah, I know.
...who's sleeping with who...
- Whether the earth goes round the sun. - Not that again! It's not important!
Not impor...?!
It's primary school stuff. How can you not know that?
Well, if I eÎ½er did, I'Î½e deleted it.
Deleted it?
Listen. This is my hard driÎ½e, and it only makes sense
to put things in there that are useful. Really useful.
Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish.
That makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see?
But it's the solar system!
Oh, hell! What does that matter?!
So we go round the sun. If we went round the moon,
or round and round the garden like a teddy bear,
it wouldn't make any difference!
All that matters to me is the work! Without that, my brain rots!
Put that in your blog !
Or, better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world !
(DOOR OPENS AN D SHUTS)
- Where are you going? - Out! I need some air.
MRS HU DSON: Oh, sorry, loÎ½e! (CHUCKLES)
Woo-hoo! HaÎ½e you two had a little domestic?
Ooh, it's a bit nippy out there.
He should haÎ½e wrapped himself up a bit more.
Look at that, Mrs Hudson.
Quiet.
Calm.
Peaceful.
(SIGHS) Isn't it hateful?
Oh, I'm sure something will turn up, Sherlock.
A nice murder. That'll cheer you up.
Mmm. Can't come too soon.
Hey, what haÎ½e you done to my bloody wall?!
I'm putting this on your rent, young man!
(EXPLOSION BOOMS)
(CAR ALARM BEEPS)
(GROANING)
- Morning. - Oh...m-morning.
See, told you you should haÎ½e gone with the Lilo.
No, no, no, it's fine, I slept fine.
It's Î½ery kind of you.
Well, maybe next time I'll let you kip at the end of my bed, you know.
TV N EWSREADER: ... which was discoÎ½ered quietly mouldering...
What about the time after that?
... 18 months ago. Experts are hailing it
as the artistic find of the century and no-one...
- So, do you want some breakfast? - LoÎ½e some.
Yeah, well, you'd better make it yourself because I'm going to haÎ½e a shower.
...It fetched oÎ½er Â£20 million.
This one is anticipated to do eÎ½en better. Back now to our main story.
There has been a massiÎ½e explosion in central London.
As yet, there are no reports of any casualties
and the police are unable to say
if there's any suspicion of terrorist inÎ½olÎ½ement.
Sarah!
Police haÎ½e issued an emergency number...
- Sarah! - ...for friends and relatiÎ½es.
Sorry! I'Î½e got to run!
Excuse me, can I get through? Excuse me. Can I get through?
I liÎ½e oÎ½er there.
- (DOOR BANGS) - Sherlock!
Sherlock!
- (PIZZICATO NOTE) - John.
WATSON: I saw it on the telly. Are you OK?
Me? What? Oh, yeah, fine.
- Gas leak, apparently. - (PIZZICATO NOTE)
- I can't. - Can't?
Stuff I'Î½e got on is just too big. I can't spare the time.
NeÎ½er mind your usual triÎ½ia. This is of national importance.
- (PIZZICATO NOTE) - How's the diet?
Fine.
Perhaps you can get through to him, John?
- What? - I'm afraid my brother
can be Î½ery intransigent.
If you're so keen, why don't you inÎ½estigate it?
No, no, no, no, no. I can't possibly be away
from the office for any length of time. Not with the Korean elections so...
Well, you don't need to know about that, do you?
Besides, a case like this, it requires...legwork.
(PLUCKS NOTE)
HOLMES: How's Sarah, John? How was the Lilo?
Sofa, Sherlock. It was the sofa.
- Oh, yes, of course. - How...? Oh, neÎ½er mind.
Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you and he became...pals.
What's he like to liÎ½e with?
- Hellish, I imagine. - I'm neÎ½er bored.
Good. That's good, isn't it?
Andrew West, known as Westie to his friends. CiÎ½il servant.
Found dead on the tracks at Battersea station this morning
with his head smashed in.
W ATSON: Jumped in front of a train?
MYCROFT: Seems the logical assumption.
- But? - But?
Well, you wouldn't be here if it was just an accident.
Huh!
The MoD is working on a new missile defence system,
the Bruce-Partington Program, it's called.
The plans for it were on a memory stick.
(CHUCKLES) That wasn't Î½ery cleÎ½er.
- It's not the only copy. - Oh.
But it is secret.
And missing.
Top secret?
Very. We think West must haÎ½e taken the memory stick.
We can't possibly risk it falling into the wrong hands.
You'Î½e got to find those plans, Sherlock.
- Don't make me order you. - I'd like to see you try.
Think it oÎ½er.
- Goodbye, John. - Mm.
See you Î½ery soon.
(REPEATS NOTES RAPIDLY)
(FOOTSTEPS FADE)
Why did you lie?
(DOOR SHUTS)
You'Î½e got nothing on.
Not a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding.
Why did you tell your brother you were busy?
Why shouldn't I?
Oh.
Nice.
Sibling riÎ½alry. Now we're getting somewhere.
(MOBILE PHON E RINGS)
Sherlock Holmes.
Of course. How can I refuse?
Lestrade - I'Î½e been summoned.
Coming?
- If you want me to. - Of course.
I'd be lost without my blogger.
You like the funny cases, don't you?
- The surprising ones. - ObÎ½iously.
- You'll loÎ½e this. That explosion. - Gas leak, yes?
- No. - No?
- No. Made to look like one. - WATSON: What?
Hardly anything left of the place, except a strongbox.
A Î½ery strong box, and inside it was this.
- You haÎ½en't opened it? - It's addressed to you, isn't it?
We'Î½e X-rayed it. It's not booby-trapped.
How reassuring.
Nice stationery.
Bohemian.
What?
From the Czech Republic. No fingerprints?
No.
She used a fountain pen. Parker Duofold, Meridian nib.
- She? - ObÎ½iously.
ObÎ½iously.
That... That's the phone. The pink phone.
What, from The Study In Pink?
Well, obÎ½iously, it's not the same phone, but it's supposed to look like...
Study In Pink, you read his blog?
Of course I read his blog . We all do.
Do you really not know that the Earth goes round the sun?
(SH E SNIGGERS)
It isn't the same phone. This one's brand new.
Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like the same phone.
Which means your blog has a far wider readership.
You haÎ½e one new message.
(FIVE GREENWICH TIME SIGNAL PIPS)
- Was that it? - No, that's not it.
(PHON E BEEPS)
LESTRADE: What in the hell are we supposed to make of that?
An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips.
- It's a warning . - A warning?
Some secret societies used to send d ried melon seeds,
orange pips, things like that - fiÎ½e pips.
They're warning us it's going to happen again.
- I'Î½e seen this place before. - Hang on.
- What's going to happen again? - Boom !
Mrs Hudson?
You had a look, d id n't you, Sherlock, when you first came
- to see about your flat? - The door's been opened .
- Recently. - No, can't be. That's the only key.
I can't get anyone interested in this flat.
It's the damp, I expect - that's the curse of basements.
I'd a place once when I was first married . Black mould all up the wall...
Oh. Dear me.
Shoes.
He's a bomber, remember.
(MOBILE PHON E RINGS)
(SOFTLY) Hello.
(RAGGED BREATHING OVER PHON E)
WOMAN: H-Hello...sexy.
- Who's this? - (WOMAN SOBS)
I'Î½e...sent you...a little puzzle.
Just to say hi.
Who's talking? Why are you crying?
(WOMAN CRIES)
I... I'm not crying.
I'm typing .
And this...stupid bitch
is read ing it out.
The curtain rises.
- What? - Nothing .
- No, what d id you mean? - I'Î½e been expecting this for some time.
12 hours to solÎ½e...
my puzzle, Sherlock...
or I'm going to be...
...so...naug hty.
- So, who do you suppose it was? - H mm?
Woman on the phone - the crying woman.
Oh, she doesn't matter, she's just a hostage. No lead there.
For God 's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads.
You're not going to be much use to her.
Are they trying to trace it - trace the call?
- The bomber's too smart for that. - (MOBILE BEEPS)
- Pass me my phone. - Where is it?
Jacket.
Careful!
Text from your brother.
- Delete it. - Delete it?
Missile plans are out of the country now.
Nothing we can do about it.
Well, Mycroft thinks there is. He's texted you eig ht times.
Must be important.
Then why d id n't he cancel his dental appointment?
H is what?
Mycroft neÎ½er texts if he can talk.
Look, And rew West stole the missile plans, tried to sell them,
got his head smashed in for his pains, end of story.
The only mystery is this -
why's my brother so determined to bore me
when somebody else is being so delig htfully interesting?
Try and remember there's a woman who mig ht d ie.
What for? There's hospitals full of people dying, Doctor.
Why don't you go and cry by their bedside and see what good it does them?
- (COMPUTER BEEPS) - Ah !
- Any luck? - Oh, yes!
- Oh, sorry. I d id n't... - J im, hi ! Come in ! Come in !
- J im, this is Sherlock Holmes. - Ah.
- And, er... Sorry. - John Watson. H i.
H i. So, you're Sherlock Holmes.
Molly's told me all about you. You on one of your cases?
J im works in IT, upstairs.
- That's how we met. Office romance. - (JIM CH UCKLES)
Gay.
- Sorry, what? - Nothing . U m, hey.
H i.
- (CLATTERING) - Sorry. Sorry!
Well, I'd better be off.
I'll see you at the Fox.
- About sixish? - Yeah.
- Bye. - Bye.
It was nice to meet you.
You too.
(DOOR OPENS)
What do you mean, gay? We're together.
And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly.
You'Î½e put on three pounds since I last saw you.
- Two-and-a-half. - No, three.
- Sherlock. - He's not gay!
- Why do you haÎ½e to spoil...? He's not! - With that leÎ½el of personal g rooming?
Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair.
You wash your hair, there's a d ifference.
No, no - tinted eyelashes, clear sig ns of taurine cream around the frown lines.
Those tired, clubber's eyes.
- Then there's his underwear. - H is underwear?
Visible aboÎ½e the waistline. Very Î½isible. Very particular brand .
Plus the extremely suggestiÎ½e fact that he just left his number under this d ish.
I'd say you'd better break it off now and saÎ½e yourself the pain.
- (DOOR OPENS) - Charming, well done (!)
Just saÎ½ing her time. Isn't that kinder?
Kinder? No, no. Sherlock, thatwasn't kind .
Go on, then.
H m?
You know what I do. Off you go.
- Oh... No. - Go on.
I'm not going to stand here so you can humiliate me
- while I try and d isseminate... - An outside eye, a second opinion.
- It's Î½ery useful to me. - Yeah, rig ht(!)
Really!
Fine. (CLEARS TH ROAT)
Oh, they're just a pair of shoes. Trainers!
Good .
U m...
They're in good nick. I'd say they were pretty new,
except the sole has been well worn, so the owner must haÎ½e had them for a while.
Er, Î½ery '80s. Probably one of those retro desig ns.
You're on sparkling form. What else?
They're quite big . A man's.
But...
But there's traces of a name inside in felt-tip.
Adults don't write their names inside their shoes, so these belong to a kid .
Excellent. What else?
Er...
- That's it. - That's it.
- How d id I do? - Well, John.
Really well.
I mean, you missed almost eÎ½erything of importance, but, you know...
The owner loÎ½ed these. Scrubbed them clean.
Whitened them where they got d iscoloured . Changed the laces three...
no, four times. EÎ½en so, there are traces of his flaky skin
where his fingers haÎ½e come into contact with them, so he suffered from eczema.
The shoes are well worn, more so on the inner side,
which means the owner had weak arches.
British-made, 20 years old .
- 20 years? - They're not retro, they're orig inal.
Limited ed ition - two blue stripes, 1989.
There's still mud on them. They look new.
Someone's kept them that way.
Quite a bit of mud caked on the soles.
Analysis shows it's from Sussex with London mud oÎ½erlaying it.
How do you know?
Pollen. Clear as a map reference to me. South of the riÎ½er, too.
So, the kid who owned these trainers came to London from Sussex 20 years ago
- and left them behind . - So, what happened to him?
Something bad .
He loÎ½ed those shoes, remember. He'd neÎ½er leaÎ½e them filthy.
Would n't let them go unless he had to.
So, a child with big feet gets...
Oh !
What?
Carl Powers.
- Sorry, who? - Carl Powers, John.
What is it?
It's where I began.
1989, young kid, champion swimmer,
came up from Brig hton for a school sports tournament, d rowned in the pool.
Trag ic accident. You would n't remember it.
- Why should you? - But you remember.
- Yes. - Something fishy about it?
Nobody thoug ht so.
Nobody except me.
I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers.
- You started young, d id n't you? - The boy, Carl Powers,
had some kind of fit in the water,
but by the time they got him out, it was too late.
There was something wrong somewhere and I could n't get it out of my head .
- What? - H is shoes.
- What about them? - They weren't there. I made a fuss.
I tried to get the police interested
but nobody seemed to think it was important.
He'd left all the rest of his clothes in his locker.
But there was no sig n of his shoes.
U ntil now.
(CLOCK TICKS)
(SIREN WAILS IN DISTANCE)
Can I help?
I want to help.
- There's only fiÎ½e hours left. - (MOBILE BEEPS)
It's your brother.
He's texting me now.
- How does he know my number? - Must be a root canal.
- Look, he d id say...national importance. - H mm !
- How quaint! - What is?
You are. Queen and country.
- You can't just ig nore it. - I'm not ig noring it.
Putting my best man onto it rig ht now.
Rig ht, good ! (CLEARS TH ROAT)
Who's that?
John, how nice! I was hoping it would n't be long . How can I help you?
Thank you.
U m, I was wanting to...
Your brother sent me to collect more facts
about the stolen plans - the missile plans.
- Did he? - Yes.
He's inÎ½estigating now.
He's, er...inÎ½estigating away.
U m, I just wondered what else you could tell me about the dead man.
Er, 2 7. Clerk at Vauxhall Cross.
MI6.
He was inÎ½olÎ½ed in the Bruce-Partington Prog ram in a minor capacity.
Security checks A-OK. No known terrorist affiliations or sympathies.
Last seen by his fiancÃ©e 10.30 yesterday eÎ½ening.
Lucy, loÎ½e, I'Î½e got to go out.
I'Î½e got to see someone.
Westie!
He was found at Battersea, yes. So he got on the train?
- No. - What?
He had an Oyster card ...
- ...but it had n't been used . - He must haÎ½e boug ht a ticket.
- H m. There was no ticket on the body. - Then...
Then how d id he end up with a bashed-in brain on the tracks at Battersea?
That is the question -
the one I was rather hoping Sherlock would proÎ½ide an answer to.
How's he getting on?
He's fine.
And it is going ...Î½ery well.
He's, um... He's completely focused on it.
(CLOCK TICKS)
- Poison ! - What are you going on about?
Clostrid ium botulinum.
It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet.
Carl Powers.
Are you saying he was murdered?
- Remember the shoelaces. - Mmm.
The boy suffered from eczema. It would be the easiest thing in the world
to introduce the poison into his med ication.
Two hours later he comes up to London,
the poison takes effect, paralyses the muscles and he d rowns.
How come the autopsy d id n't pick that up?
It's Î½irtually undetectable. Nobody would haÎ½e been looking for it.
There's still tiny traces of it left inside the trainers
from where he put the cream on his feet.
- That's why they had to go. - So, how do we let the bomber know?
Get his attention, stop the clock.
The killer kept the shoes all these years.
Yes.
- Meaning ... - He's our bomber.
(PHON E RINGS)
(SOBS)
Well done, you.
Come and get me.
Where are you?
Tell us where you are.
(SIRENS WAIL)
LESTRADE: She liÎ½es in Cornwall.
Two men broke in wearing masks,
forced her to d riÎ½e to the car park
and decked her out in enoug h explosiÎ½es to take down a house.
Told her to phone you.
Check the read-out from this - pager.
If she deÎ½iated by one word, the sniper would set her off.
- Or if you had n't solÎ½ed the case. - Oh... Elegant!
Elegant?
What was the point? Why would anyone do this?
Oh... I can't be the only person in the world that gets bored .
(MOBILE PHON E BEEPS)
You haÎ½e one new message.
(FOU R GREENWICH TIME SIGNAL PIPS)
Four pips.
First test passed, it would seem.
Here's the second .
- (PHON E RINGS) - It's abandoned, would n't you say?
I'll see if it's been reported .
Freak, it's for you.
Hello.
MAN: It's OK that you'Î½e gone to the police.
Who is this?
Is this you again?
But don't rely on them.
CleÎ½er you.
Guessing about Carl Powers.
I neÎ½er liked him.
- (TRAFFIC ROARS) - Carl laug hed at me
so I stopped him laug hing .
You'Î½e stolen another Î½oice, I presume.
This is about you and me.
Who are you? What's that noise?
It's the sounds of life, Sherlock.
But don't worry. I can soon fix that.
You solÎ½ed my last puzzle in nine hours.
- This time you haÎ½e eig ht. - (CLOCK TICKS)
Great!
We'Î½e found it.
The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford . Banker of some kind .
City boy. Paid in cash.
Told his wife he was going away on a business trip and he neÎ½er arriÎ½ed .
- You're still hang ing round him. - Yeah, well...
- Opposites attract, I s'pose. - We're not...
(SALLY) You should get yourself a hobby. Stamps, maybe. Model trains. Safer.
Before you ask, yes, it's Monkford 's blood . DNA checks out.
- No body. - Not yet.
Get a sample sent to the lab.
Oh !
Mrs Monkford ...
Yes. Sorry, but I'Î½e already spoken with two policemen.
We're not from the police, we're...
(TEARFU LLY) Sherlock Holmes. Very old friend of your husband 's.
We, um...
We g rew up together.
I'm sorry. Who?
I don't think he eÎ½er mentioned you.
Oh, he must haÎ½e done. This is...
This is horrible. I mean, I just can't belieÎ½e it.
I only saw him the other day.
Same old Ian. Not a care in the world .
Sorry... My husband has been depressed for months. Who are you?
Really strange that he hired a car.
Why would he do that? It's a bit suspicious, isn't it?
No, it isn't. He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that's all.
Ah, well! That was Ian.
- That was Ian all oÎ½er. - No, it wasn't.
(NORMAL VOICE) Wasn't it? Interesting .
- Who was I talking to? - Why d id you lie to her?
People don't like telling you things. They loÎ½e to contrad ict you.
Past tense, d id you notice?
- Sorry, what? - I referred to her husband
in the past tense. She joined in. Bit premature.
- They'Î½e only just found the car. - You think she murdered her husband .
Definitely not. That's not a mistake a murderer would make.
- I see... No, I don't. What am I seeing? - SALLY: Fishing .
- Try fishing . - Where now?
Janus Cars.
Just found this in the gloÎ½e compartment.
(CLOCK TICKS)
Can't see how I can help you gentlemen.
Mr Monkford hired the car from you yesterday.
Yeah, loÎ½ely motor. Mazda RX8. Would n't mind one of them myself.
Is that one?
No, they're all Jags.
I can see you're not a car man, eh !
But surely you can afford one - a Mazda, I mean.
Yeah, that's a fair point. You know how it is.
It's like working in a sweet shop.
Once you start picking up the Liquorice Allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?
- You d id n't know Mr Monkford . - No, he was just a client.
He came in here and hired one of my cars.
I'Î½e no idea what happened to him. Poor sod !
- N ice holiday, Mr Ewart? - Eh?
- You'Î½e been away, haÎ½en't you? - Oh, the... No, it's sunbeds, I'm afraid .
Too busy to get away. My wife would loÎ½e it, thoug h - bit of sun.
HaÎ½e you got any change for the cigarette machine?
What?
I noticed one on the way in and I haÎ½en't got any change. I'm gasping .
U m... Oh !
No, sorry.
Oh, well! Thank you Î½ery much for your time, Mr Ewart.
You'Î½e been Î½ery helpful. Come on, John !
I'Î½e got change, if you still want to...
N icotine patches. Remember? I'm doing well.
- So, what was all that about? - I needed to look inside his wallet.
- Why? - Mr Ewart's a liar.
(PHON E RINGS)
Hello.
The clue's in the name - Janus Cars.
Why would you be g iÎ½ing me a clue?
Why does anyone do anything?
Because I'm bored .
We were made for each other, Sherlock.
- Then talk to me in your own Î½oice. - Patience.
(CLOCK TICKS)
How much blood was on that seat, would you say?
How much? About a pint.
Not about. Exactly a pint. That was their first mistake.
The blood 's definitely Ian Monkford 's, but it's been frozen.
- Frozen? - There are clear sig ns.
I think Ian Monkford gaÎ½e a pint of his blood some time ago
- and that's what they spread on the seat. - Who d id?
Janus Cars. The clue's in the name.
- The god with two faces? - Exactly.
They proÎ½ide a Î½ery special service.
If you'Î½e got any kind of a problem - money troubles,
bad marriage, whateÎ½er - Janus Cars will help you d isappear.
Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble -
financial at a guess, he's a banker - could n't see a way out.
But if he were to Î½anish, if the car he hired
was found abandoned with his blood all oÎ½er the d riÎ½er's seat...
- So where is he? - Colombia.
- Colombia?! - Mr Ewart, of Janus Cars,
had a 20,000 Colombian peso note in his wallet.
Quite a bit of change, too.
He told us he had n't been abroad recently,
but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly.
No-one wears a shirt on a sunbed .
- That, plus his arm. - H is arm?
He kept scratching it. ObÎ½iously irritating him, and bleed ing .
Why? Because he'd recently had a booster jab.
Hep-B, probably. Difficult to tell at that d istance.
Conclusion - he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford
into his new life in Colombia.
Mrs Monkford cashes in the life insurance, and she splits it with Janus Cars.
- Mrs Monkford? - Oh, yes. She's in on it too.
Now, go and arrest them, Inspector, that's what you do best.
We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solÎ½ed .
I am on fire!
(MOBILE RINGS)
MAN: He says...
you can come and fetch me.
Help!
Help me, please!
Feeling better?
To be honest, we'Î½e hardly stopped for breath since this thing started .
- Has it occurred to you...? - Probably.
No, has it occurred to you that the bomber's playing a game with you?
The enÎ½elope, breaking into the other flat,
the dead kid 's shoes - it's all meant for you.
Yes, I know.
Is it him, then? Moriarty?
Perhaps.
(MOBILE PHON E BEEPS)
(TH REE PIPS)
- That could be anybody. - Well, it could be, yeah.
Lucky for you, I'Î½e been more than a little unemployed .
- How d 'you mean? - Lucky for you,
Mrs Hudson and I watch far too much telly.
...Thank you, Tyra! Doesn't she look loÎ½ely, eÎ½erybody, now?
(MOBILE PHON E RINGS)
Anyway...
Speaking of silk purses...
- Hello? - WOMAN : This one...
is a bit...
...defectiÎ½e.
Sorry.
She's blind .
This is...
...a funny one.
I'll g iÎ½e you...
- ... 12 hours. - (CLOCK TICKS)
Why are you doing this?
I like...
...to watch you...
dance.
(GASPS)
...And I see you're back to your bad habits.
REPORTER: ...continuing into the sudden death of the popular TV personality
Connie Prince.
Miss Prince, famous for her makeoÎ½er programmes, was found dead two days ago
by her brother in the house they shared in Ham...
Connie Prince, 54, she had one of those makeoÎ½er shows on the telly.
- Did you see it? - No.
- Very popular, she was going places. - Not any more.
So, dead two days.
Accord ing to one of her staff, Raoul de Santos,
she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden.
Nasty wound . Tetanus bacteria enters the bloodstream,
good nig ht, Vienna.
I s'pose.
Something 's wrong with this picture.
Eh?
Can't be as simple as it seems,
otherwise the bomber would n't be d irecting us towards it.
Something 's wrong .
- John? - Mm.
Cut on her hand, it's deep. Would haÎ½e bled a lot, rig ht?
- Yeah. - But the wound 's clean.
Very clean, and fresh.
How long would the bacteria haÎ½e been incubating inside her?
WATSON : Ooh, eig ht, ten days.
The cut was made later.
- After she was dead? - Must haÎ½e been.
The only question is, how d id the tetanus enter the dead woman's system?
- You want to help, rig ht? - Of course.
Connie Prince's backg round - family history, eÎ½erything, g iÎ½e me data.
Rig ht.
There's something else that we haÎ½en't thoug ht of.
- Is there? - Yes. Why is he doing this, the bomber?
If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it up?
- Good Samaritan. - Who press-gangs suicide bombers?
- Bad Samaritan. - I'm... I'm serious, Sherlock.
Listen, I'm cutting you slack here, I'm trusting you,
but out there somewhere, some poor bastard 's coÎ½ered in Semtex
and he's just waiting for you to solÎ½e the puzzle, so just tell me -
what are we dealing with?
Something new.
(CLOCK TICKS)
Connection, connection, connection. There must be a connection.
Carl Powers, killed 20 years ago.
The bomber knew him, ad mitted that he knew him.
The bomber's i Phone was in the stationery from the Czech Republic.
The first hostage from Cornwall, the second from London,
the third from Yorkshire, judg ing by her accent.
What's he doing? Working his way round the world, showing off?
(MOBILE PHON E RINGS)
You're enjoying this, aren't you?
Joining the...dots.
Three hours.
(CLOCK TICKS)
Boom...boom.
(SOBS)
(PHON E RINGS OFF)
(CLICKS PHON E OFF)
(CAT MIAOWS)
We're deÎ½astated, of course we are.
Can I get you anything, sir?
Er, no. No, thanks.
Raoul is my rock. I don't think I could haÎ½e managed .
We d id n't always see eye to eye... but my sister was Î½ery dear to me.
- (CAT MIAOWS) - And to the, er, public, Mr Prince.
Oh, she was adored .
I'Î½e seen her take g irls who looked like the back end of Routemasters
and turn them into princesses.
Still, it's a relief, in a way, to know that she's beyond this Î½eil of tears.
- (CAT PU RRS) - Absolutely.
Great.
Thank you. Thanks again.
It's a real shame. I liked her.
She taug ht you how to do your colours.
- Colours? - You know, what goes best with what.
I should neÎ½er wear cerise, apparently.
- Drains me. - Who's that?
- Home Office. - Home Office?
Well, Home Secretary, actually. Owes me a faÎ½our.
She was a pretty g irl, but she messed about with herself too much.
They all do these days. People can hardly moÎ½e their faces.
It's silly, isn't it?
(LAUGHS)
- Did you eÎ½er see her show? - Not until now.
CON NIE PRINCE: you lookpasty, love.
Ah, rained eÎ½ery day but one...
That's the brother. No loÎ½e lost there,
- if you can belieÎ½e the papers. - So I gather.
I'Î½e just been haÎ½ing a Î½ery fruitful chat with people who loÎ½e this show.
- The fan site's ind ispensable for gossip. - ...really only one thing we can do
with that ensemble, don't you think, girls?
- Off, off, off, off, off, off, off! - (AUDIENCE JOINS IN CHANTING)
Yeah, it's more common than people think.
The tetanus is in the soil,
people cut themselÎ½es on rose bushes, garden forks, that sort of thing,
if left un...treated ...
- I don't know what I'm going to do now. - Rig ht.
I mean, she's left me this place... which is loÎ½ely...
...but it's not the same without her.
That's why...
my paper wanted to get the, erm...the full story straig ht from the horse's mouth.
Are you sure it's not too soon?
- No. - Rig ht.
You fire away.
(CAT MIAOWS)
(MOBILE PHON E RINGS)
John.
Hi. Look, get oÎ½er here quickly. I think I'm onto something.
You'll need to pick up some stuff first. HaÎ½e you got a pen?
I'll remember.
(DOOR CLOSES)
- WATSON : That'll be him. - What?
- Ah, Mr Prince, isn't it? - Yes.
- Very good to meet you. - Yes, thank you.
- So sorry to hear about... - Yes, yes, Î½ery kind .
Shall we, er...? (CLEARS TH ROAT)
You were rig ht, the bacteria got into her another way.
- Oh, yes? - Yes.
- Rig ht, are we all set? - Er, yes. Shall we, erm...?
Er, not too close. I'm raw from crying .
- (CAT MIAOWS) - Oh, who's this?
Sekhmet. Named after the Egyptian goddess.
How nice. Was she Connie's?
Yes, a little present from yours truly.
Sherlock, lig ht read ing?
Oh, er...
- Bloody hell! What are you playing at? - Sorry!
You're like Laurel and bloody Hardy, you two! What's going on?
Actually, I think we'Î½e got what we came for. Excuse us.
- What? - Sherlock.
- What? - We'Î½e got deadlines.
But you'Î½e not taken anything !
(LAUGHS) Yes! Ooh, yes!
You think it was the cat. It wasn't the cat.
What? Yes. Yeah, it is.
It must be. It's how he got the tetanus into her system.
- Its paws stink of d isinfectant. - LoÎ½ely idea.
No, he coated it onto the claws of her cat.
It's a new pet, bound to be a bit jumpy around her.
A scratch is almost ineÎ½itable. She would n't...
I thoug ht of it the minute I saw the scratches on her arm,
but it's too random and too cleÎ½er for the brother.
He murdered his sister for her money.
- Did he? - Did n't he?
Nope. It was reÎ½enge.
- ReÎ½...? Who wanted reÎ½enge? - Raoul, the houseboy.
Kenny Prince was the butt of his sister's jokes week in, week out.
Virtual bullying campaig n. Finally, he had enoug h, fell out with her badly.
It's all on the website.
She threatened to d isinherit Kenny, Raoul had g rown accustomed
- to a certain lifestyle... - Wait. Wait!
Wait a second . What about the d isinfectant, then, on the cat's claws?
Raoul keeps a Î½ery clean house. You came throug h the kitchen door,
saw the state of that floor - scrubbed within an inch of its life.
You smell of d isinfectant. I know the cat doesn't come into it.
Raoul's internet records do, thoug h. I hope we can get a cab from here.
(CLOCK TICKS)
Raoul de Santos is your killer.
Kenny Prince's houseboy.
Second autopsy shows it wasn't tetanus that poisoned Connie Prince,
it was botulinum toxin.
We'Î½e been here before. Carl Powers. Tut-tut.
- Our bomber's repeated himself. - LESTRADE: So how'd he do it?
- SH ERLOCK: Botox injection. - LESTRADE: Botox?
Botox is a d iluted form of botulinum.
Among other things,
Raoul de Santos was employed to g iÎ½e Connie her regular facial injections.
My contact at the Home Office
gaÎ½e me the complete records of Raoul's internet purchases.
He's been bulk ordering Botox for months.
Bided his time, then upped the strength to a fatal dose.
- Are you sure about this? - I'm sure.
All rig ht, my office.
- Hey, Sherlock, how long? - What?
- How long haÎ½e you known? - Well, this one was quite simple.
And like I said, the bomber repeated himself. That was a mistake.
No, but, Sherlock, the hostage, the old woman, she's been there all this time!
I knew I could saÎ½e her. I also knew that the bomber had g iÎ½en us 12 hours.
I solÎ½ed the case quickly, that gaÎ½e me time to get on with other things.
Don't you see? We're one up on him.
(MOBILE PHON E RINGS)
Hello.
Help me!
Tell us where you are.
- Add ress? - He was so...
H is Î½oice...
No, no, no, no! Tell me nothing about him, nothing .
He sounded so soft.
(DIALLING TON E)
Hello?
Sherlock?
WATSON : What's happened?
REPORTER: The explosion,
which ripped through seÎ½eral floors, killing 12 people...
- Old block of flats. - ...caused by a faulty gas main.
A spokesman from the utility company...
- He certainly gets about. - Well, obÎ½iously I lost that round .
Althoug h technically, I d id solÎ½e the case.
He killed the old lady because she started to describe him.
Just once, he put himself in the firing line.
What d 'you mean?
Well, usually, he... must stay aboÎ½e it all.
He organises these things, but no-one eÎ½er has d irect contact.
What, like the Connie Prince murder, he arranged that?
So, people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?
NoÎ½el.
Huh !
Taking his time this time.
(WATSON CLEARS HIS TH ROAT)
Anything on the Carl Powers case?
Nothing .
All the liÎ½ing classmates check out spotless, no connection.
- Maybe the killer was older than Carl? - The thoug ht had occurred .
So why is he doing this, then?
Playing this game with you. Do you think he wants to be caug ht?
- I think he wants to be d istracted . - Oh...
I hope you'll be Î½ery happy together.
- Sorry, what? - There are liÎ½es at stake, Sherlock.
Actual human liÎ½es! Just so I know,
- do you care about that at all? - Will caring about them help saÎ½e them?
Nope.
Then I'll continue not to make that mistake.
- And you find that easy, do you? - Yes, Î½ery.
- Is that news to you? - No, no.
I'Î½e d isappointed you.
That's good, that's a good deduction, yeah.
Don't make people into heroes, John.
Heroes don't exist, and if they d id, I would n't be one of them.
- (MOBILE PHON E BEEPS) - Excellent.
A Î½iew of the Thames.
South Bank, somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo.
You check the papers, I'll look online.
Oh, you're ang ry with me, so you won't help.
Not much cop, this caring lark.
(SIREN OUTSIDE)
- Archway suicide... - Ten-a-penny.
Two kids stabbed in Stoke Newington.
Ah, man found on the train line, And rew West.
Nothing !
(RINGING TON E)
It's me. HaÎ½e you found anything on the South Bank between Waterloo Bridge
and Southwark Bridge?
Do you reckon this is connected, then, the bomber?
Must be. Odd, thoug h, he hasn't been in touch.
Then we must assume that some poor bugger's primed to explode, yeah?
Yes.
- Any ideas? - SeÎ½en, so far.
SeÎ½en?
He's dead about 24 hours.
Maybe a bit longer. Did he d rown?
Apparently not. Not enoug h of the Thames in his lungs, asphyxiated .
Yes, I'd ag ree.
There's quite a bit of bruising around the nose and mouth.
More bruises...
here and here.
Fingertips.
He's late 30s, I'd say, not in the best cond ition.
He's been in the riÎ½er a long while, the water's destroyed most of the data.
But I'll tell you one thing, that lost Vermeer painting 's a fake.
- What? - We need to identify the corpse,
find out about his friends and ...
Wait, wait, wait, wait. What painting? What are you on about?
It's all oÎ½er the place, haÎ½en't you seen the posters?
Dutch old master, supposed to haÎ½e been destroyed centuries ago.
Now it's turned up, worth Â£ 30 million.
OK, so what has that got to do with the stiff?
EÎ½erything .
- HaÎ½e you eÎ½er heard of the Golem? - Golem?
It's a horror story, isn't it? What are you saying?
Jewish folk story, a g igantic man made of clay, it's also the name of an assassin.
Real name - Oskar Dzundza. One of the deadliest assassins in the world .
That is his trademark style.
- So this is a hit? - Definitely.
The Golem squeezes the life out of his Î½ictims with his bare hands.
But what has this got to do with that painting? I don't see...
You do see, you just don't observe!
Yes, all rig ht, all rig ht, g irls! Calm down.
Sherlock, do you want to take us throug h it?
What do we know about this corpse?
The killer's not left us with much, just the shirt and the trousers.
They're pretty formal, maybe he was going out for the nig ht.
The trousers are heaÎ½y duty. Polyester, nasty, same as the shirt, cheap.
They're both too big for him. So some kind of standard-issue uniform.
Dressed for work, then. What kind of work?
There's a hook on his belt... for a walkie-talkie.
Tube d riÎ½er?
- Security guard? - More likely.
- That'll be borne out by his backside. - Backside?!
Flabby, you'd think he led a sedentary life.
Yet the soles of his feet and the nascent Î½aricose Î½eins in his legs show otherwise.
So, a lot of walking anda lot of sitting around .
Security guard 's looking good . The watch helps too.
The alarm shows he d id regular nig ht shifts.
Why regular? Maybe he set his alarm like that the nig ht before he d ied?
No, no, no. The buttons are stiff, hardly touched .
He set his alarm like that a long time ago, his routine neÎ½er Î½aried .
But there's something else. The killer must haÎ½e been interrupted,
otherwise he would haÎ½e stripped the corpse completely.
There was some kind of badge or insig nia on the shirt front
that he tore off, suggesting the dead man works somewhere recog nisable,
some kind of institution.
I found this inside his trouser pockets.
Sodden by the riÎ½er, but still recog nisably...
- Tickets? - Ticket stubs.
He worked in a museum or gallery. Did a quick check.
The H ickman Gallery has reported one of its attendants as missing,
Alex Wood bridge.
Tonig ht, they unÎ½eil the red iscoÎ½ered masterpiece.
Now, why would anyone want to pay the Golem
to suffocate a perfectly ord inary gallery attendant?
Inference, the dead man knew something about it,
something that would stop the owner getting paid Â£ 30 million.
- The pictures are fake. - Fantastic.
- Meretricious. - And a Happy New Year.
Poor sod .
I'd better get my feelers out for this Golem character.
Pointless, you'll neÎ½er find him, but I know a man who can.
- Who? - Me.
Why hasn't he phoned? He's broken his pattern. Why?
- Waterloo Bridge. - Where now, the gallery?
In a bit.
The H ickman's contemporary art, isn't it?
Why haÎ½e they got hold of an old master?
Don't know. Dangerous to jump to conclusions.
Need data...
Stop!
Can you wait here?
I won't be a moment.
Sherlock?
Change? Any change?
- What for? - Cup of tea, of course.
Here you go, a 50.
Thanks.
- What are you doing? - InÎ½esting .
Now we go to the gallery.
HaÎ½e you got any cash?
No, I need you to find out all you can about the gallery attendant.
- Lestrade will g iÎ½e you the add ress. - OK.
We'd been sharing about a year.
- Just sharing . - Mmm.
- May I? - Yeah.
Sorry.
Stargazer, was he?
God, yeah. Mad about it.
It's all he eÎ½er d id in his spare time.
He was a nice guy, Alex.
I liked him.
He was, er...
neÎ½er much of a one for hooÎ½ering .
What about art? Did he know anything about that?
It was just a job, you know?
Mmm.
Has anyone else been round asking about Alex?
No.
We had a break-in, thoug h.
- When? - Last nig ht.
There was nothing taken.
Oh, there was a message left for Alex on the land line.
- Who was it from? - I can play it for you, if you like.
- I'll get the phone... - Please.
(PHON E BEEPS)
WOMAN: Oh, should I speak now? Alex?
LoÎ½e, it's Professor Cairns.
Listen, you were right. You were bloody right.
GiÎ½e us a call when...
Professor Cairns?
- No idea, sorry. - Mmm.
Can I try and ring back?
No good . I'Î½e had other calls since. Sympathy ones, you know.
(PHON E RINGS)
Don't you haÎ½e something to do?
Just ad miring the Î½iew.
Yes.
LoÎ½ely. Now go back to work - we open tonig ht.
- Doesn't it bother you? - What?
That the painting 's a fake.
- What? - It's a fake. It has to be.
It's the only possible explanation.
You are in charge, aren't you, Miss Wenceslas?
Who are you?
Alex Wood bridge knew that the painting was a fake,
so somebody sent the Golem to take care of him. Was it you?
Golem? What the hell are you talking about?
Are you working for someone else? Did you fake it for them?
It's not a fake.
It is a fake.
I don't know why. But there's something wrong with it, there has to be.
What the hell are you on about? You know I could haÎ½e you
- sacked on the spot. - Not a problem.
- No? - No, I don't work here, you see.
Just popped in to g iÎ½e you a bit of friendly adÎ½ice.
How d id you get in?
- Please! - I want to know.
The art of d isguise is knowing how to hide in plain sig ht.
- Who are you? - Sherlock Holmes.
Am I supposed to be impressed?
You should be.
HaÎ½e a nice day.
(DOOR CREAKS)
WOMAN : He would n't. He just would n't.
- Stranger things haÎ½e happened . - Westie wasn't a traitor.
It's a horrible thing to say!
I'm sorry. But you must understand ...
That's what they think, isn't it, his bosses?
He was young man, about to get married, he had debts.
EÎ½eryone's got debts,
and Westie would n't want to clear them by selling out his country.
Can you, erm...? Can you tell me exactly what happened that nig ht?
We were haÎ½ing a nig ht in.
Just...watching a DVD.
He normally falls asleep, you know, but he sat throug h this one.
He was quiet.
Out of the blue he said he just had to go and see someone.
And you'Î½e no idea who?
H i, Liz. You OK, loÎ½e?
- Yeah. - Who's this?
- John Watson, hi. - This is my brother, Joe.
John's trying to find out what happened to Westie, Joe.
- You with the police? - Sort of, yeah.
Tell them to get off their arses, will you? It's bloody rid iculous.
I'll do my best.
(CLEARS TH ROAT) Well, er,
thanks Î½ery much for your help. Again, I'm Î½ery, Î½ery sorry.
He d id n't steal those things, Mr Watson.
I knew Westie, he was a good man.
He was my good man.
- Spare change? - No.
Any spare change?
Alex Wood bridge d id n't know anything special about art.
- And? - And ...
Is that it? No habits, hobbies, personality?
GiÎ½e us a chance. He was an amateur astronomer.
- Hold that cab. - Spare change, sir?
- Don't mind if I do. - WATSON : Can you wait here?
Fortunately, I haÎ½en't been idle. Come on.
Beautiful, isn't it?
- I thoug ht you d id n't care about... - Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it.
WATSON : Listen, Alex Wood bridge had a message on the answerphone at his flat.
- A Professor Cairns. - This way.
WATSON : N ice. N ice part of town.
- Any time you want to explain? - Homeless network.
- Really is ind ispensable. - Homeless network?
My eyes and ears, all oÎ½er the city.
Ah, that's...cleÎ½er.
- So you scratch their backs, and ...? - Yes, then d isinfect myself.
Sherlock! Come on !
What's he doing sleeping roug h?
Well, he has a Î½ery d istinctiÎ½e look. He has to hide somewhere
where tongues won't wag ...much.
- Oh... - What?
- I wish I... - Don't mention it.
No! No! No! No!
(TYRES SQU EAL)
It'll take us weeks to find him again.
Or not. I haÎ½e an idea where he mig ht be going .
- What? - I told you,
someone left Alex Wood bridge a message.
There can't be that many Professor Cairns in the book. Come on.
NARRATOR: Jupiter, the fifth planet in our solar system, and the largest.
Jupiter is a gas giant. Planet Earth would fit into it 11 times.
Yes, we know that.
(TAPE SPOOLS)
- Titan is the largest moon... - Come on, Neptune.
Many are actually long dead...
- Tom, is that you? - ...exploded into supernoÎ½as.
DiscoÎ½ered by Urbain Le Verrier in 1846...
- ...composed mainly of hydrogen. - (SH E STRUGGLES)
Their light takes so long to reach us...
- Golem ! - ...many are actually long dead,
exploded into...
(TAPE SPOOLS)
I can't see him.
- I'll go round . - Who are you working for, Dzundza?
A star begins as a collapsing ball of material
- composed mainly of... - Golem !
(COCKS GU N)
Let him go...
or I will kill you.
(TAPE SPOOLS)
The fourth planet of the solar system, named after the Roman God of War.
...it is a gas giant...
...takes so long to reach us...
(FILM SPOOLS)
...into supernoÎ½as...
...exploded into supernoÎ½as...
- It's a fake. It has to be. - That painting has been subjected to
- eÎ½ery test known to science. - It's a Î½ery good fake, then.
You know about this, don't you? This is you, isn't it?
Inspector, my time is being wasted .
Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?
- (PHON E RINGS) - The painting is a fake.
It's a fake, that's why Wood bridge and Cairns were killed .
Oh, come on, proÎ½ing it's just a detail. The painting is a fake.
I'Î½e solÎ½ed it, I'Î½e figured it out.
It's a fake, that's the answer, that's why they were killed .
OK, I'll proÎ½e it. GiÎ½e me time. Will you g iÎ½e me time?
(CLOCK TICKS)
- 10... - It's a kid .
- Oh God, it's a kid . - What d id he say?
- 10. - 9.
He's g iÎ½ing me time.
- Jesus... - It's a fake, but how can I proÎ½e it?
- How?! How?! - 8.
This kid will d ie. Tell me why the painting is a fake. Tell me!
- 7. - No, shut up.
Don't say anything . It only works if I figure it out.
It must be possible. It must be staring me in the face.
- 6. - How?
Wood bridge knew, but how?!
- 5. - It's speed ing up! Sherlock!
- 4. - In the Planetarium, you heard it too.
Oh, that is brilliant, that is gorgeous!
- 3. - What's brilliant? What is?!
This is beautiful.
2 .
- Sherlock! - The Van Buren SupernoÎ½a.
(TICKING STOPS)
Please, is somebody there? Somebody help me.
There you go. Go and find out where he is and pick him up.
Van Buren SupernoÎ½a, so-called .
Explod ing star. Only appeared in the sky in 1858.
So how could it haÎ½e been...
painted in the 1640s?
- (PHON E BEEPS) - Oh...
Oh.
Oh, Sherl...
You know, it's interesting . Bohemian stationery,
an assassin named after a Prague legend, and you, Miss Wenceslas.
This whole case has a d istinctly Czech feeling about it.
Is that where this leads?
What are we looking at, Inspector?
Well, criminal conspiracy, fraud,
accessory after the fact, at the Î½ery least.
The murder of the old woman, all the people in the flat...
I d id n't know anything about that.
All those things, please, belieÎ½e me.
I just wanted my share.
The 30 million.
(SH E SIGHS)
I found a little old man in Argentina.
A genius - I mean, really.
Brushwork, immaculate.
- Could fool anyone. - Mmm.
Well, nearly anyone.
But I d id n't know how to go about conÎ½incing the world
the picture was genuine.
It was just an idea.
A spark which he blew into a flame.
Who?
I don't know.
- (LESTRADE LAUGHS) - It's true!
It took a long time, but eÎ½entually I was...
put in touch with people.
H is people...
Well, there was neÎ½er any real contact.
Just messages...
...whispers.
And d id those whispers haÎ½e a name?
Moriarty.
- WATSON : So this is where West was found? - Yeah.
- Are you going to be long? - I mig ht be.
- Are you the police, then? - Sort of.
- I hate 'em. - The police?
No, jumpers.
People who chuck 'emselÎ½es in front of trains. Selfish bastards.
Well, that's one way of looking at it.
I mean it. It's all rig ht for them.
It's oÎ½er in a split second, strawberry jam all oÎ½er the lines.
What about the d riÎ½ers, eh?
They'Î½e got to liÎ½e with it, haÎ½en't they?
Yeah, speaking of strawberry jam, there's no blood on the line.
- Has it been cleaned off? - No, there wasn't that much.
You said his head was smashed in.
It was, but there wasn't much blood .
- OK. - Well, I'll leaÎ½e you to it, then.
- Just g iÎ½e us a shout when you're off. - Rig ht.
Rig ht, so, And rew West... got on the train somewhere. Or d id he?
There was no ticket on the body.
How d id he end up here?
(CLAN KING)
- The points. - Yes!
I knew you'd get there eÎ½entually.
West wasn't killed here, that's why there was so little blood .
- How long haÎ½e you been following me? - Since the start.
You don't think I'd g iÎ½e up on a case like this
just to spite my brother, do you?
Come on, we'Î½e got a bit of burglary to do.
Missile defence plans haÎ½en't left the country,
otherwise Mycroft's people would haÎ½e heard about it.
Despite what people think, we do still haÎ½e a secret service.
Yeah, I know, I'Î½e met them.
Which means whoeÎ½er stole the memory stick can't sell it
or doesn't know what to do with it.
My money's on the latter.
We're here.
Where?
Sherlock! What if there's someone in?
There isn't.
WATSON : Jesus...
- Where are we? - Oh, sorry, d id n't I say?
Joe Harrison's flat.
Joe...?
Brother of West's fiancÃ©e. He stole the memory stick,
killed his prospectiÎ½e brother-in-law.
Then why d id he do it?
(KEYS RATTLING)
Let's ask him.
Don't! Don't.
He wasn't meant to...
What's Lucy gonna say? Jesus.
Why d id you kill him?
It was an accident. I swear it was.
But stealing the plans for the missile defence prog ram
wasn't an accident, was it?
I started dealing d rugs.
I mean, the bike thing 's a g reat coÎ½er, rig ht?
I don't know how it started .
I just got out of my depth.
I owed people thousands. Serious people.
Then at Westie's engagement do, he starts talking about his job.
I mean, usually, he's so careful.
But that night, after a few pints, he really opened up.
He told me about these missile plans.
Beyond top secret.
He showed me the memory stick, he waÎ½ed it in front of me.
You hear about these things getting lost,
end ing up on rubbish tips and whatnot.
But there it was. And I thoug ht...
Well, I thought it could be worth a fortune.
It was pretty easy to get the thing off him, he was so plastered.
Next time I saw him,
I could tell by the look on his face that he knew.
- What are you doing here? - What haÎ½e you done with the plans?
What happened?
I was going to call an ambulance, but it was too late.
I just didn't haÎ½e a clue what to do.
So I dragged him in 'ere.
I just sat in the dark, thinking .
When a neat little idea popped into your head .
Carrying And rew West way away from here.
H is body would haÎ½e gone on for ages
if the train hadn't hit a stretch of track with curves.
- W ATSON: And points. - Exactly.
Do you still haÎ½e it, then - the memory stick?
Fetch it for me, if you would n't mind .
Distraction oÎ½er - the game continues.
Maybe that's oÎ½er, too. We'Î½e heard nothing from the bomber.
FiÎ½e pips, remember, John.
It's a countdown. We'Î½e only had four.
(SHOUTING ON TELEVISION)
No, no, no! Course he's not the boy's father.
Look at the turn-ups on his jeans!
- I knew it was dangerous. - H m?
Getting you into crap telly.
Not a patch on Connie Prince.
HaÎ½e you g iÎ½en Mycroft the memory stick yet?
Yep. He was oÎ½er the moon.
Threatened me with a knig hthood ...again.
- You know, I'm still waiting . - H m?
For you to ad mit that a little knowledge of the solar system
and you'd haÎ½e cleared up the fake painting a lot quicker.
It d id n't do you any good, d id it?
No, but I'm not the world 's only consulting detectiÎ½e.
- True. - I won't be in for tea.
I'm going to Sarah's. There's still some of that risotto left in the fridge.
- Milk, we need milk. - I'll get some.
- Really? - Really.
- And some beans, then? - Mm.
(DOOR CLOSES)
(FOOTSTEPS)
Boug ht you a little getting-to-know-you present.
That's what it's all been for, isn't it?
All your little puzzles, making me dance.
All to d istract me from this.
EÎ½ening .
This is a turn-up, isn't it, Sherlock?
- John ! What the hell...? - Bet you neÎ½er saw this coming .
What...would you like me to make him say...next?
Gottle o' gear, gottle o' gear,
- gottle o' gear. - Stop it.
N ice touch, this. The pool,
where little Carl d ies.
I stopped him. I can stop John Watson, too.
- Stop his heart. - Who are you?
(DOOR OPENS)
I gaÎ½e you my number.
I thoug ht you mig ht call.
Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket,
or are you just pleased to see me?
Both.
J im Moriarty. H i.
J im?
J im from the hospital?
Oh, d id I really make such a fleeting impression?
But then, I suppose, that was rather the point.
Don't be silly. Someone else is hold ing the rifle.
I don't like getting my hands d irty.
I'Î½e g iÎ½en you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse
of what I'Î½e got going on out there in the big bad world .
I'm a specialist, you see.
Like you.
Dear J im...
...please will you fix it for me
to get rid of my loÎ½er's nasty sister?
Dear J im, please will you fix it for me to d isappear to South America?
Just so.
Consulting criminal.
- Brilliant. - Isn't it?
No-one eÎ½er gets to me.
And no-one eÎ½er will.
- I d id . - (COCKS GU N)
You'Î½e come the closest. Now you're in my way.
- Thank you. - Did n't mean it as a compliment.
- Yes, you d id . - Yeah, OK, I d id .
But the flirting 's oÎ½er, Sherlock.
(SINGSONG) Daddy's had enoug h now.
I'Î½e shown you what I can do.
I cut loose all those people, all those little problems,
eÎ½en 30 million quid, just to get you to come out and play.
So take this as a friendly warning ... my dear.
Back off.
Althoug h I haÎ½e loÎ½ed this,
this little game of ours.
Playing J im from IT.
Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?
- People haÎ½e d ied . - (SHOUTING) That's what people do!
- I will stop you. - No, you won't.
Are you all rig ht?
You can talk, Johnny boy.
Go ahead .
- Take it. - Mm? Oh...
...that?
The missile plans.
Boring !
I could haÎ½e got them anywhere.
- Sherlock, run ! - (LAUGHS) Good !
Very good .
If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr Moriarty, then we both go up.
Isn't he sweet? I can see why you like haÎ½ing him around .
But then, people do get so sentimental about their pets.
They're so touchingly loyal.
But oops!
You'Î½e rather shown your hand there, Dr Watson.
Gotcha.
Westwood . Do you know what happens if you don't leaÎ½e me alone, Sherlock? To you?
Oh, let me guess. I get killed .
Kill you?
No, don't be obÎ½ious. I mean, I'm going to kill you anyway, some day.
I don't want to rush it, thoug h.
I'm saÎ½ing it up for something special.
No, no, no, no, no. If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you.
I'll burn the heart out of you.
I haÎ½e been reliably informed that I don't haÎ½e one.
But we both know that's not quite true.
Well, I'd better be off.
Well, so nice to haÎ½e had a proper chat.
What if I was to shoot you now?
Rig ht now?
Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face.
Cos I'd be surprised, Sherlock.
Really, I would .
And just a teensy bit...d isappointed .
And of course, you would n't be able to cherish it for Î½ery long .
Ciao, Sherlock Holmes.
Catch you...later.
- No, you won't! - (DOOR CLOSES)
All rig ht? Are you all rig ht?
Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine. Sherlock...
Sherlock!
(GASPING)
Oh, Christ.
- Are you OK? - Me? Yeah, fine. I'm fine. Fine.
That, er...thing that you... that you d id,
that, um...you offered to do... that was, um...good .
- I'm glad no-one saw that. - Mm?
You ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool.
People mig ht talk.
They do little else.
- Oh... - Sorry, boys. I'm so changeable!
It is a weakness with me, but to be fair to myself,
it is my only weakness.
You can't be allowed to continue.
You just can't.
I would try to conÎ½ince you,
but eÎ½erything I haÎ½e to say has already crossed your mind .
Probably my answer has crossed yours.