A Scandal in Belgravia Sherlock

-'Who are you?

-Jim Moriarty.

'Bye!

'Consulting criminal.

'I have loved this, this little game of ours.

-'People have died.

-That's what people DO!'

' will stop you.'

If you don't stop prying...

..I'll burn you.

I will burn the heart out of you.

Catch you later.

No, you won't!

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 convince you,

but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.

Probably my answer has crossed yours.

MUSIC: "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees

Do you mind if I get that?

Oh, no, please.

You've got the rest of your life.

Hello?

Yes, of course it is. What do you want?

SAY THAT AGAIN!

Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me,

I will find you, and I will skin you.

Wait.

Sorry...

Wrong day to die.

'Oh.

Did you get a better offer?

You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock.

So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich.

If you don't,

I'll make you into shoes.

HE CLICKS HIS FINGERS

What happened there?

Someone changed his mind.

The question is...

..who?

-Well, now, have you been wicked, Your Highness?

-WHIP CRACKS

FEMALE VOICE: Yes, Miss Adler.

POLICE CAR SIREN

What are you typing?

-Blog.

-About?

-Us.

-You mean me.

-Why?

-HE COUGHS

-Well, you're typing a lot.

Right, then.

So, what have we got?

-My wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office.

-Boring.

-I think my husband might be having an affair.

-Yes.

She's not my real aunt, she's been replaced.

I know she has.

-I know human ash.

-Leave.

We are prepared to offer any sum of money you care to mention

-for the recovery of these files.

-Boring.

We have this website, it explains the true meaning of comic books,

cos people miss a lot of the themes.

But then all the comic books started coming true.

Oh...interesting.

Geek Interpreter, what's that?

-That's the title.

-What does it need a title for?

Do people actually read your blog?

-Where do you think our clients come from?

-I have a website.

In which you enumerate 240 different types of tobacco ash. Nobody's reading your website.

Right then, dyed blonde hair, no obvious cause of death,

except for these speckles, whatever they are.

Oh, for God's sakes!

-What?

-The Speckled Blonde?!

They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead.

Is that cos he'd gone to heaven?

People don't really go to heaven when they die,

they're taken to a special room and burned.

Sherlock...

There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday.

-Everyone dead.

-Suspected terrorist bomb.

-We do watch the news.

-You said "boring" and turned over.

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 at 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.

Lucky escape.

Any ideas?

Eight so far.

OK, four ideas.

Maybe two ideas.

No, no, no, don't mention the unsolved ones.

-People want to know you're human.

-Why?

-Because they're interested.

-No, they're not. Why are they?

-Hmm, look at that.

-1,895.

-Sorry, what?

I reset that counter last night. This blog has had nearly 2,000 hits in the last eight hours.

This is your living, Sherlock, not 240 different types of tobacco ash.

243.

So what's this one?

Belly Button Murders?

The Navel Treatment?

Urgh!

-There's a lot of press outside, guys.

-Well, they won't be interested in us.

Yeah, that was before you were an internet phenomenon.

A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you two.

God's sake!

-John.

-Hmm?

Cover your face and walk fast.

Still, it's good for the public image,

big case like this.

I'm a private detective, the last thing I need is a public image.

Hello.

I think it's time, don't you?

Oh!

Ugh!

SHE SIGHS

Oh!

Oh, dear!

Thumbs!?

The door was...

The door was...

Boys! You've got another one!

Ooh!

Tell us from the start, DON'T be boring.

ENGINE SPLUTTERS AND DIES

ENGINE BACKFIRES

HE SIGHS

Hey!

Are you OK?

Excuse me!

Are you all right?

Sir, phone call for you.

Carter.

-'Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes?'

-Who?

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.

OK.

-Sir, this gentleman says he needs to speak to you...

-Yes, I know.

Sherlock Holmes.

John Watson. Are you set up for wi-fi?

'You realise this is a tiny bit humiliating?'

It's OK, I'm fine.

Now...

..show me to the stream.

'I didn't really mean for you.'

Look, this is a six.

There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven, we agreed.

Now go back,

show me the grass.

When did we agree that?

We agreed it yesterday. Stop!

-'Closer.'

-I wasn't even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin.

-It's hardly my fault you weren't listening.

-DOORBELL RINGS

-Shut up!

-'Do you just carry on talking when I'm away?'

-I don't know, how often are you away?

'Now...

-'..show me the car that backfired.

-WATSON SIGHS

It's there.

'that's the one that made the noise, yes?'

Yeah.

If you're thinking gunshot... '..there wasn't one.

'He wasn't shot,

'he was killed by a single blow to the back from a blunt instrument,

'which then magically disappeared, along with the killer.'

It's got to be an eight, at least.

-You've got two more minutes, they want to know more about the driver.

-Oh, forget him, he's an idiot.

-Why else would he think himself a suspect?

-I think he's a suspect.

-'Pass me over.'

-All right, but there's a mute button, and I will use it.

Up a bit! I'm not talking from down here!

OK. Just take it, take it.

'Having successfully committed a crime without a single witness...'

..why would he call the police and consult a detective?

-Fair play?

-He's trying to be clever. It's overconfidence.

-SHERLOCK SIGHS

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, the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition.

Low self-esteem, tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy, and you think he's a criminal mastermind?!

-Don't worry, this is just stupid.

-What did you say? Heart what?

Go to the stream.

What's in the stream?

-Go and see.

-MRS HUDSON:

-Sherlock! You weren't answering your doorbell.

-His room's through the back, get him some clothes.

-Who the hell are you?

-Sorry, Mr Holmes...

-'Sherlock, what's going on?'

-You're coming with us.

-'What's happening?' I've lost him. I don't know what...

-Dr Watson?

-Yeah.

-It's for you.

-OK, thanks.

-No, sir, the helicopter.

Please, Mr Holmes, where you're going you'll want to be dressed.

I know exactly where I'm going.

-You wearing any pants?

-No.

-OK.

THEY LAUGH

At Buckingham Palace. Right. HE COUGHS

-Ha, ha.

-Aah, aah, I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray.

SHERLOCK SNIGGERS

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

-What are we doing here, Sherlock, seriously, what?

-I don't know.

Here to see the Queen?

Oh, apparently, yes.

THEY LAUGH

Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?

We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants. I wouldn't hold out too much hope.

-I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft.

-What, the hiker and the backfire?

-I glanced at the police report, a bit obvious, surely?

-Transparent.

-Time to move on then.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

HE SIGHS

We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation.

-Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on!

-What for?

Your client.

And my client is...?

Illustrious, in the extreme.

And remaining, I have to inform you, entirely anonymous.

-Mycroft.

-Harry.

-May I just apologise for the state of my little brother.

-A full-time occupation, I imagine.

-And this must be Dr John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers?

-Hello, yes.

-My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog.

-Your employer?

-Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch.

-Thank you.

-Ahem...

And Mr Holmes the Younger.

-You look taller in your photographs.

-I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend.

Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients.

I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases, both ends is too much work. Good morning.

This is a matter of national importance. Grow up!

-Get off my sheet!

-Or what?

Or I'll just walk away.

-I'll let you.

-Boys, please... Not here.

Who is my client?

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!

Put your clothes on!

SHERLOCK SIGHS

I'll be mother.

And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.

My employer has a problem.

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.

-Why?

We have a police force of sorts, even a marginally secret service.

-Why come to me?

-People come to you for help, don't they, Mr Holmes?

-Not to date anyone with a navy.

This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust.

-You don't trust your own secret service?

-Naturally not.

They all spy on people for money.

I do think we have a timetable.

Yes, of course. Erm...

What do you know about this woman?

Nothing whatsoever.

Then you should be paying more attention.

MESSAGE TONE

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.

You know I don't concern myself with trivia.

Who is she?

Irene Adler.

Professionally known as "The Woman".

Professionally?

There are many names for what she does. She prefers "dominatrix".

-Dominatrix.

-Don't be alarmed.

It's to do with sex.

Sex doesn't alarm me.

How would you know?

She provides, shall we say, recreational scolding

for those who enjoy that sort of thing

and are prepared to pay for it.

These are all from her website.

And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs.

You're very quick, Mr Holmes.

Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?

A person of significance to my employer.

-We'd prefer not to say any more at this time.

-You can't tell us anything?

I can tell you it's a young person.

A young female person.

How many photographs?

A considerable number, apparently.

-Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?

-Yes.

-I assume in a number of compromising scenarios?

-An imaginative range, we are assured.

John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now.

-Can you help us, Mr Holmes?

-How?

-Will you take the case?

What case?

Pay her, now and in full.

As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, know when you are beaten.

She doesn't want anything.

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.

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.

-Sherlock...

-Hmm. Where is she?

-In London, currently. She's staying...

-Text me the details, I'll be in touch by the end of the day.

-Do you really think you'll have news by then?

-No, I think I'll have the photographs.

One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think.

-I'll need some equipment, of course.

-Anything you require, I'll have it sent...

-Can I have a box of matches?

-I'm sorry?

-Or your cigarette lighter, either will do.

-I don't smoke.

-No, I know you don't, but your employer does.

We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark

about this little fact, Mr Holmes.

I'm not the Commonwealth.

And that's as modest as he gets.

Pleasure to meet you.

Laters!

OK, the smoking, how did you know?

The evidence was right under your nose, John,

as ever you see, but do not observe.

-Observe what?

-The ashtray.

WATSON LAUGHS

SHERLOCK CHUCKLES

SOUND OF FLASHBULBS

Kate?

We're going to have a visitor.

I'll need a bit of time to get ready.

A long time?

Hmm...ages.

What are you doing?

I'm going to into battle, John.

I need the right armour.

No.

Nah.

Works for me.

Everything works on you.

So, what's the plan?

We know her address.

-We just ring her doorbell?

-Exactly. Just here, please.

-You didn't even change your clothes.

Then it's time to add a splash of colour.

Are we here?

Two streets away, but this will do.

-For what?

-Punch me in the face.

Shade?

Blood.

-Punch you?

-Yes, punch me, in the face. Didn't you hear me?

I always hear "punch me" when you speak but it's usually sub-text.

Oh, for God's sakes!

Thank you, that was...

OK, I think we're done now, John!

You want to remember, Sherlock, I was a soldier. I killed people.

-You were a doctor!

-I had bad days!

What are you going to wear?

-My battle dress.

-Oh, lucky boy.

BUZZER

BELL RINGS

Hello?

Oh, very sorry to disturb you, um, I've just been attacked, um,

um, and I think they, they took my wallet

and, um, and my phone.

Um, please could you help me?

I can phone the police, if you want?

Thank you. Could you, please? Would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come?

Thank you, thank you so much.

BUZZER

Thank you. Oh.

I saw it all happen.

-It's OK, I'm a doctor. Have you got a first aid kit?

-In the kitchen. Please.

-Thank you.

-Thank you.

Hello, sorry to hear you've been hurt.

-I don't think Kate caught your name?

-I'm so sorry, I'm...

It's always hard to remember an alias when you've had a fright. Isn't it?

Well, there now.

We're both defrocked...

..Mr Sherlock Holmes.

-Miss Adler, I presume.

-Look at those cheekbones.

I could cut myself slapping that face.

Would you like me to try?

Right, this should do it.

I've missed something, haven't I?

Please, sit down. Or if you'd like some tea, I can call the maid.

-I had some at the Palace.

-I know.

-Clearly.

I had a tea too, at the Palace. If anyone's interested.

Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr Holmes?

However hard you try, it's always a self-portrait.

You think I'm a vicar with a bleeding face?

No, I think you're damaged, delusional

and believe in a higher power. In your case, it's yourself.

Hmm, and somebody loves you.

If I had to punch that face, I'd avoid your nose and teeth, too.

Ha-ha! Could you put something on, please?

-Er, anything at all. A napkin?

-Why? Are you feeling exposed?

I don't think John knows where to look.

No, I think he knows exactly where.

I'm not sure about you.

If I was to look at naked women, I'd borrow John's laptop.

-You do borrow my laptop.

-I confiscate it.

Never mind, we've got better things to talk about. Now, tell me, I need to know -

how was it done?

What?

The hiker with the bashed-in head - how was he killed?

That's not why I'm here.

You're here for the photographs,

but that's never going to happen and as we're chatting...

That story's not out. How do you know about it?

-I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes.

-Oh.

And you...like policemen?

I like detective stories. And detectives.

Brainy is the new sexy.

The position of the car relative to the hiker,

that and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head, that's all you need to know.

-OK, tell me, how was he murdered?

-He wasn't.

-You don't think it was murder?

-I know it wasn't.

-How?

-The same way

I know the victim was a sportsman, recently returned from foreign travel

-and that the photographs I'm looking for are in this room.

-OK, but how?

So they are in this room. Thank you.

John, man the door, let no-one in.

Two men alone in the countryside, several yards apart and one car.

-Oh, I,... I thought you were looking for the photos now.

-No, no.

Looking takes ages, I'm just going to find them,

but you're clever and we've got a moment, so let's pass the time. Two men, a car, nobody else.

Driver's trying to fix his engine.

Getting nowhere.

And the hiker is taking a moment, looking at the sky.

Watching the birds? Any moment now, something is going to happen. What?

-The hiker is going to die.

-No, that's the result. What's going to happen?

-I don't understand.

-Oh, well try to.

-Why?

-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.

-The car's going to backfire. There's

-going to be a loud noise.

-So what?

Noises are important. They can tell you everything. For instance...

BEEPING

Thank you.

On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child.

Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.

I really hope you don't have a baby in here.

All right, John, you can turn it off now.

I said you can turn it off now!

Give me a minute!

Thank you.

Hmm.

You should always use gloves with these things, you know.

Heaviest oil deposit is always on the first key used,

that's a 3, but after that, the sequence is impossible to read. I see it's a six digit code.

It can't be your birthday, no disrespect, but you were born in the '80s and 8's barely used, so...

I'd tell you the code right now, but you know what? I already have.

Think.

Hands behind your head, on the floor, keep it still!

-Sorry, Sherlock.

-Miss Adler, on the floor!

-Don't you want me on the floor, too?

-No, sir, I want you to open the safe.

American. Interesting. Why would you care?

-Sir, the safe, now, please.

-I don't know the code.

-We've been listening, she said she told you.

-If you've been listening, you'll know she didn't.

-I assume I missed something. From your reputation,

I assume you didn't, Mr Holmes.

She's the one who knows the code, ask her!

Yes, sir, she also knows the code that calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm.

-I've learned not to trust her.

-Mr Holmes doesn't...

-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.

-Mr Archer, at the count of three, shoot Dr Watson.

-What?

-I don't know the code.

-One.

-I don't know the code.

-Two.

-She didn't tell me, I don't know it!

I'm prepared to believe you, any second now.

-Three!

-No, stop!

BEEPING

BEEPING

SAFE UNLOCKS

Thank you, Mr Holmes. Open it, please.

Vatican cameos!

-Do you mind?

-Not at all.

-He's dead.

-Thank you. You were very observant.

-Observant?

-I'm flattered.

-Don't be.

-Flattered?

There'll be more of them, they'll be keeping an eye on the building.

-We should call the police.

-Yes.

-On their way.

-For God's sake!

Oh, shut up, it's quick.

Check the rest of the house, see how they got in.

-Well, that's the knighthood in the bag.

-Oh, and that's mine.

-All the photographs are on here, I presume?

-I have copies, of course.

-No, you don't.

You'll have permanently disabled any kind of uplink or connection.

Unless the contents of this phone are unique, you couldn't sell them.

-Who said I'm selling?

-Well, why would they be interested?

-Whatever's on the phone, it's clearly not just photographs.

-That camera-phone is my life, Mr Holmes.

I'd die before I let you take it. It's my protection.

-Sherlock!

-It was.

-Must have come in this way.

-Clearly.

It's all right, she's just out cold.

Oh, God knows she's used to that. There's a back door. Better check it, Dr Watson.

Sure.

You're very calm.

-Well, your booby trap did just kill a man.

-He would have killed me.

It was self defence in advance.

What is that?! What?

Give it to me.

Now. Give it to me.

No.

-Give it to me.

-Argh! No.

Oh, for goodness sake!

Drop it.

I...said...drop it!

Ah, thank you, dear.

Now, tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me.

They're not for blackmail, just for insurance.

Besides, I might want to see her again.

Oh, no no no no no.

It's been a pleasure.

Don't spoil it.

This is how I want you to remember me,

the woman who beat you.

Goodnight, Mr Sherlock Holmes.

-Jesus! What are you doing?

-He'll sleep for a few hours.

-Make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit, it makes for a very unattractive corpse.

-What's this?

-What have you given him? Sherlock?

-He'll be fine.

-I've used it on loads of my friends.

-Sherlock, can you hear me?

-You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look.

-For what? What are you talking about?

-The key-code to my safe.

-What was it?

Shall I tell him?

My measurements.

SIREN WAILS

SIRENS WAIL

Got it!

Oh, ssh ssh no, don't get up, I'll do the talking.

So, the car's about to backfire and the hiker, he's staring at the sky.

You said he could be watching birds, but he wasn't, was he?

He was watching another kind of flying thing.

The car backfires and the hiker turns to look...

..which was his big mistake.

By the time the driver looks up, the hiker is already dead. He doesn't see what killed him

because it's already being washed downstream.

An accomplished sportsman recently returned from foreign travel with...

a boomerang.

You got that from one look?

Definitely the new sexy.

I...

I...

Hush, now.

It's OK.

I'm only returning your coat.

John?

John!

-You OK?

-How did I get here?

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.

-Where is she?

-Where's who?

-The woman, that woman.

-What woman?

-The Woman! The Woman, woman!

-Oh, Irene Adler?

She got away, no-one saw her. She wasn't here, Sherlock.

What are you? What? No, no, no. No. Back to bed.

You'll be fine in the morning. Just sleep.

Of course I'll be fine, I am fine. I'm absolutely fine.

Yes, you're great. Now, I'll be next door if you need me.

-Why would I need you?

-No reason at all.

EROTIC MOAN TEXT ALERT

-The photographs are perfectly safe.

-In the hands of a fugitive sex worker?

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?

How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied.

She'd applaud your choice of words.

You see how this works? The camera-phone is her get out of jail free card.

You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft.

Though not the way she treats royalty.

EROTIC MOAN TEXT ALERT

What was that?

-Text.

-But what was that noise?

Did you know there were other people after her too

before you sent John and I in there?

-CIA trained killers, I think.

-Thanks for that.

It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that.

Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes!

-Oh, shut up, Mrs Hudson!

-Mycroft!!

-Apologies.

-Thank you.

-Though do in fact shut up.

EROTIC MOAN TEXT ALERT

Oh, it's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?

There's nothing you can do and nothing she will do, as far as I can see.

I can put maximum surveillance on her.

Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter.

I believe her user name is The Whip Hand.

Most amusing. Excuse me. Hello?

Why does your phone make that noise?

-What noise?

-That noise, the one it just made.

It's a text alert, means I've got a text.

Hmm. Your texts don't usually make that noise.

Well, somebody got hold of the phone and apparently as a joke,

personalised their text alert noise.

Hmm, so every time they text you...

-EROTIC MOAN TEXT ALERT

-It would seem so.

Could you turn that phone down a bit? At my time of life it's...

Ahem.

See I'm wondering who could have got hold of your phone.

-It would've been in your coat.

-I'll leave you to your deductions.

I'm not stupid, you know.

Where do you get that idea?

Bond Air is go, that's decided. Check with the Coventry lot.

Talk later.

What else does she have?

Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn't be interested in her

for a couple of compromising photographs.

There's more. Much more.

Something big's coming, isn't it?

Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours.

From now on, you will stay out of this.

-Oh, will I?

-Yes, Sherlock.

You will.

Now if you'll excuse me,

I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend.

Do give her my love.

HE PLAYS 'GOD SAVE THE QUEEN'

Lovely, Sherlock. That was lovely.

-Hmm, marvellous.

-Yes, very good.

I wish you could have worn the antlers.

-Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson.

-Mrs H?

-No thank you, Sarah.

-Er, no, no, he's not good with names.

No, I can get this.

Sarah was the doctor, then there was the one with the spots,

then the one with the nose and then, who was after the boring teacher?

-Nobody.

-Jeanette! Ah, process of elimination. Oh, dear Lord.

Hello, everyone. It said on the door to come up.

-Hello, Molly.

-Hello, Molly!

Everybody saying hello to each other, how wonderful!

-Let me, er... Holy Mary!

-Wow!

-So we're having Christmas drinkies?

-No stopping them, apparently.

It's the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me,

so it's almost worth it.

-John?

-Hmm?

-The counter on your blog still says 1895.

-Oh, no, Christmas is cancelled(!)

-And you've got a photograph of me wearing that hat!

-People like it.

-No, they don't. What people?

-How's the hip?

Oh, it's atrocious, but thanks for asking.

I've seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.

-Oh, God, sorry.

-Don't make jokes, Molly.

-No, sorry.

-Here you are.

-Thank you. I wasn't expecting to see you.

I thought you were in Dorset for Christmas?

First thing in the morning, me and the wife, back together, sorted.

No, she's sleeping with a PE teacher.

-And John, I hear you're off to your sister's?

-Yeah.

Sherlock was complaining. Saying.

First time ever, she's cleaned up her act, off the booze.

-Nope.

-Shut up, Sherlock!

-I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly. You're serious about him.

-Sorry, what?

-You're seeing him tonight, giving him a gift.

-Take a day off.

-Shut up. Have a drink.

-Surely you see the perfectly wrapped present in the bag.

The others are slapdash. It's for someone special.

The shade of red echoes her lipstick - an unconscious association,

or one she's deliberately trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind.

That she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving him a gift.

It suggests long-term hopes.

That she's seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and clothes.

Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts.

You always say such horrible things.

Every time. Always.

Always.

I am sorry. Forgive me.

Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.

EROTIC MOAN TEXT ALERT

Oh, no! That wasn't, I didn't...

-No, it was me.

-My God, really?

-What?

-My phone.

-Fifty seven?

-Sorry, what?

Fifty seven of those texts, the ones I've heard.

Thrilling that you've been counting.

Excuse me.

What's up, Sherlock?

-I said excuse me.

-Do you ever reply?

PHONE RINGS

Oh, dear Lord, we're not going to have Christmas phone calls now, are we?

Have they passed a new law?

I think you're going to find Irene Adler tonight.

We already know where she is.

As you were kind enough to point out, it hardly matters.

No, I mean you're going to find her dead.

-You OK?

-Yes.

The only one who fitted the description.

Had her brought here, your home from home.

You didn't need to come in, Molly.

It's OK, everyone else is busy with... Christmas.

The face is a bit sort of bashed-up, so it might be a bit difficult.

-That's her, isn't it?

-Show me the rest of her.

That's her.

Thank you, Miss Hooper.

Who is she? How did Sherlock recognise her from... not her face?

-Just the one.

-Why?

-Merry Christmas.

Smoking indoors, isn't there one of those... one of those law things?

We're in a morgue.

There's only so much damage you can do.

How did you know she was dead?

She had an item in her possession, one she said her life depended on.

-She chose to give it up.

-Where is this item now?

Look at them.

They all care so much.

Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us?

All lives end, all hearts are broken.

Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.

This is low tar.

Well, you barely knew her.

Huh.

Merry Christmas, Mycroft.

And a happy new year.

He's on his way. Have you found anything?

-No. Did he take the cigarette?

-Yes.

-Shit!

-He's coming, ten minutes.

-There's nothing in the bedroom.

It looks like he's clean, we've tried all the usual places.

Are you sure tonight's a danger night?

No, but then I never am. You have to stay with him, John.

I've got plans.

No.

Mycroft?

I am really sorry.

-You know my friends are so wrong about you.

-Hmm?

-You're a great boyfriend.

-OK, that's good.

-I always thought I was great.

-Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man.

Oh, Jeanette, please.

No, I mean it. It's heart-warming. You'll do anything for him.

And he can't even tell your girlfriends apart!

I'll do anything for you, just tell me what it is I'm not doing.

Don't make me compete with Sherlock Holmes!

I'll walk your dog. There, I've said it, I'll even walk your dog.

-I don't have a dog!

-No, because that was the last one.

-OK.

-Jesus!

-I'll call you.

-No!

-OK.

That really wasn't very good, was it?

Oh, hi.

You OK?

I hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time!

VIOLIN PLAYS

Lovely tune, Sherlock, haven't heard that one before.

Ahem. Composing?

Helps me to think.

What are you thinking about?

The count on your blog is still stuck at 1895.

Yes. Faulty, can't seem to fix it.

Faulty, or you've been hacked and it's a message.

Hmm?

Just faulty.

Right.

Right.

Well, I'm going out for a bit.

Listen, has he ever had any kind of girlfriend,

boyfriend, a relationship, ever?

I don't know.

How can we not know?

He's Sherlock.

How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?

Right. See you.

-John?

-Yeah? Hello?

-Hello.

-So, any plans for new year tonight?

Um, er... nothing fixed.

Nothing I couldn't heartlessly abandon.

-You have any ideas?

-One.

You know, Mycroft could just phone me,

if he didn't have this bloody stupid power complex.

Couldn't we just go to a cafe?

Sherlock doesn't follow me everywhere.

Through there.

He's on his way.

You were right, he thinks it's Mycroft.

He's writing sad music.

Doesn't eat, barely talks,

only to correct the television.

I'd say he was heart-broken, but, er, well he's Sherlock.

He does all that anyway.

Hello, Dr Watson.

Tell him you're alive.

He'd come after me.

I'll come after you if you don't.

Hmm, I believe you.

You were dead on a slab.

It was definitely you.

DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep.

-And I bet you know the record keeper.

-I know what he likes.

And I needed to disappear.

Then how come I can see you and I don't even want to?

Look, I made a mistake,

I sent something to Sherlock for safekeeping, now I need it back.

-I need your help.

-No.

-It's for his own safety.

So is this. Tell him you're alive.

-I can't.

-Fine, I'll tell him

-and I still won't help you.

-What do I say?

What do you normally say?! You've texted him a lot!

-Just the usual stuff.

-There is no usual in this case.

"Good morning. I like your funny hat.

"I'm sad tonight, let's have dinner.

"Hmm, you look sexy on Crimewatch, let's have dinner.

"I'm not hungry.

"Let's have dinner".

-You flirted with Sherlock Holmes?

-At him. He never replies.

No, Sherlock always replies to everything.

He's Mr Punchline.

He will outlive God trying to have the last word.

Does that make me special?

-I don't know, maybe.

-Are you jealous?

-We're not a couple.

-Yes, you are.

There, "I'm not dead.

"Let's have dinner".

Who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes? But for the record,

if anyone out there still cares, I'm not actually gay.

Well, I am. Look at us both.

EROTIC MOAN TEXT ALERT

I don't think so, do you?

-Stop it!

-Stop it!

Sherlock!

-Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock...

-Don't snivel, Mrs Hudson,

it'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet.

What a tender world that would be.

Oh, please, Sherlock...

I believe that you have something that we want, Mr Holmes.

Then why don't you ask for it?

Oh, I've been asking this one, she doesn't seem to know anything.

But you know what I'm asking for, don't you, Mr Holmes?

I believe I do.

Please, help.

First get rid of your boys.

-Why?

-I dislike being outnumbered,

it makes for too much stupid in the room.

-You two, go to the car.

-Then get into the car and drive away.

Don't try to trick me, you know who I am, it doesn't work.

Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me.

So you can point a gun at me?

I'm unarmed.

-Mind if I check?

-Oh, I insist.

Argh!

Moron.

-Oh, thank you.

-You're all right now, you're all right.

-Jeez, what the hell is happening?

-Mrs Hudson has been attacked by an American,

I'm restoring balance to the universe.

Mrs Hudson, my God, are you all right?

Jesus, what have they done to you?

Oh, I'm just being so silly.

Take her downstairs and look after her.

It's all right, I'll have a look at that.

I'm fine, I'm fine.

-Are you going to tell me what's going on?

-I expect so, now go.

Lestrade?

We've had a break-in at Baker Street.

Send your least irritating officers and an ambulance.

Oh, no, no, no, we're fine.

No, it's the burglar, he's got himself rather badly injured.

Oh, a few broken ribs, fractured skull, suspected punctured lung...

He fell out of a window.

Oh, it stings.

Oh, that was right on my bins.

GROANING OUTSIDE

And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?

It's all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector.

I lost count.

She'll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight,

we need to look after her.

-No...

-She's fine.

-No, she's not, look at her.

She's got to take some time away from Baker Street.

She can stay with her sister, doctor's orders.

-Don't be absurd.

-She's in shock, for God's sake,

and all over some stupid camera-phone - where is it anyway?

Safest place I know.

You left it in the pocket of your second best dressing gown, you clot!

I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry.

Thank you.

Shame on you, John Watson.

-Shame on me?

-Mrs Hudson leave Baker Street?

England would fall.

Where is it now?

Where no-one will look.

Whatever's on that phone is more than just pictures.

Yes, it is.

So, she's alive then.

How are we feeling about that?

BIG BEN CHIMES

Happy New Year, John.

Do you think you'll be seeing her again?

HE PLAYS 'AULD LANG SYNE'

TEXT ALERT

-Is that a phone?

-It's a camera-phone.

-And you're x-raying it?

-Yes, I am.

-Whose phone is it?

-A woman's.

Your girlfriend?

She's my girlfriend because I'm x-raying her possessions?

-Well, we all do silly things!

-Yes...

..they do, don't they?

Very silly.

She sent this to my address.

-She loves to play games.

-She does?

Hey, Sherlock...

We have a client.

What, in your bedroom?

Oh.

So, who's after you?

-People who want to kill me.

-Who's that?

Killers.

It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific.

-So you faked your own death to get ahead of them?

-It worked for a while.

-Except you let John know you're alive, therefore me.

-I knew you'd keep my secret.

You couldn't.

But you did, didn't you?

Where's my camera-phone?

It's not here.

We're not stupid.

What have you done with it? If they've guessed, they'll be watching you.

Then they'll know I took a safety deposit box

at a bank on the Strand a few months ago.

I need it.

Well, we can't just go and get it, can we?

Molly Hooper, she could collect it, take it to Barts.

Then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the cafe,

one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back.

Very good, John, excellent plan, full of intelligent precautions.

Thank you. So, why don't I phone...

So, what do you keep on here?

In general, I mean?

Pictures, information, anything I might find useful.

-For blackmail?

-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.

-So how do you acquire this information?

-I told you - I misbehave.

-But you've acquired something more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?

-Yes...

..but I don't understand it.

I assumed. Show me.

The passcode.

It's not working.

No, because it's a duplicate I had made

into which you just entered the numbers 1058.

I assumed you'd choose something more specific than that, but thanks, anyway.

I told you that camera-phone was my life.

I know when it's in my hand.

Oh, you're rather good.

You're not so bad.

Hamish.

John Hamish Watson, just if you were looking for baby names.

There was a man, an MOD official and I knew what he liked.

One of the things he liked was showing off.

He told me this email was going to save the world.

He didn't know but I photographed it - he was a bit tied up at the time.

It's a bit small on that screen, can you read it?

-Yes.

-Code, obviously.

I had one of the country's best cryptographers take a look,

though he was mostly upside down, as I recall.

Couldn't figure it out.

What can you do, Mr Holmes?

Go on, impress a girl.

There's a margin for error,

but I'm pretty sure there's a 747 leaving Heathrow tomorrow at 6.30 for Baltimore.

Apparently it's going to save the world, I'm not sure how,

but give me a moment, I've only been on the case eight seconds.

Oh, come on, it's not code, these are seats on a jet.

Look, no 'I' because it can be mistaken for one.

No letters past 'K' - the width of the plane is the limit.

The numbers always appear not in sequence,

but the letters have little runs of sequence families and couples sitting together.

Only a Jumbo's wide enough for a letter 'K' or rows past 55, so there's always an upstairs.

A row 13 eliminates superstitious airlines.

The style of the flight number, '007', eliminates a few more.

Assuming a British point of origin because of the original source,

and assuming the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches

all the criteria and departs within the week is the 6.30 to Baltimore tomorrow from Heathrow.

Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was amazing,

John's expressed that in every possible variant available in English.

I would have you right here, on this desk,

until you begged for mercy twice.

John, can you check those flight schedules, see if I'm right?

I'm on it, yeah.

I've never begged for mercy in my life.

Twice.

Yeah, you're right, flight double 'o' seven.

-What did you say?

-You're right.

No, what did you say after that?

Double 'o' seven, flight double 'o' seven.

Double 'o' seven, double 'o' seven...

Something, double 'o' seven...

What?

Double 'o' seven, double 'o' seven, what?

What, something, what?!

Bond Air is go.

Bond Air is go.

Bond Air is go.

BLOWS RASPBERRY

'Bond Air is go, that's decided.

'Check with the Coventry lot.'

-Coventry.

-I've never been.

Is it nice?

Where's John?

He went out, a couple of hours ago.

I was just talking to him.

He said you do that.

What's Coventry got to do with anything?

It's a story, probably not true -

in the Second World War, the Allies knew Coventry was going to get bombed, because

they'd broken the German code, but didn't want the Germans to know that,

-so they let it happen anyway.

-Have you ever had anyone?

I'm sorry?

And when I say had, I'm being indelicate.

-I don't understand.

-I'll be delicate then.

-Let's have dinner.

-Why?

-You might be hungry.

-I'm not.

-Good.

Why would I...want to have dinner...

..if I wasn't hungry?

Mr Holmes, if it was the end of the world,

if this was the very last night...

..would you have dinner with me?

Sherlock?

Too late.

That's not the end of the world, that's Mrs Hudson.

Sherlock, this man was at the door, is the bell still not working?

He shot it.

Have you come to take me away again?

-Yes, Mr Holmes.

-Well, I decline.

I don't think you do.

There's going to be a bomb on a passenger jet.

The British and Americans know about it,

but rather than expose their source they're going to let it happen - the plane will blow up.

Coventry all over again.

The wheel turns, nothing is ever new.

Well, you're looking all better.

How you feeling?

Like putting a bullet in your brain, sir.

Hmm.

They'd pin a medal on me if I did...

..sir.

The Coventry conundrum.

What do you think of my solution?

The flight of the dead.

Plane blows up midair, mission accomplished for the terrorists,

hundreds of casualties, but nobody dies.

Neat, don't you think?

You've been stumbling around the fringes of this one for ages.

Or were you too bored to notice the pattern?

They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead.

She's not my real aunt - I know human ash.

We ran a similar project with the Germans a while back,

though I believe one of our passengers didn't make the flight.

But that's the deceased for you...

..late, in every sense of the word.

How is the plane going to fly?

Oh, of course, unmanned aircraft, hardly new.

It doesn't fly.

It will never fly.

This entire project is cancelled.

The terrorist cells have been informed 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.

-Your MOD man.

-That's all it takes.

One lonely, naive man, desperate to show off,

and a woman clever enough to make him feel special.

You should screen your defence people more carefully.

I'm not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock, I'm talking about you!

The damsel in distress.

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 and watch him dance.

Don't be absurd!

Absurd?

How quickly did you decipher that email for her?

Was it the full minute?

Or were you really eager to impress?

I think it was less than five seconds.

I drove you into her path.

I'm sorry, I didn't know.

Mr Holmes, I think we need to talk.

So do I, there are a number of aspects I'm still not clear on.

Not you, Junior, you're done now.

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.

We have people who can get into this.

I tested that theory for you.

I let Sherlock Holmes try it for six months.

Sherlock, dear, tell him what you found when you x-rayed my phone.

Four additional units wired inside the casing,

I suspect containing acid or a small explosive.

Any attempt to open it will burn the hard drive.

Explosive.

It's more me.

Some data is always recoverable.

Take that risk.

You have a passcode to open this.

I deeply regret to say, we have people who can extract it from you.

-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

-and there would be no second attempt.

-He's good, isn't he?

I should have him on a leash.

In fact, I might.

We destroy this, then. No-one has the information.

Fine, good idea.

Unless there are lives of British citizens

depending on the information you burn.

-Are there?

-Telling you would be playing fair.

I'm not playing any more.

A list of my requests,

and some ideas about my protection once they're granted.

I'd say it wouldn't blow much of a hole in the wealth of a nation, but then I'd be lying.

-I imagine you'd like to sleep on it.

-Thank you, yes.

Too bad.

Off you pop and talk to people.

You've been very...thorough.

I wish our lot were half as good as you.

I can't take all the credit, I had a bit of help.

Jim Moriarty sends his love.

Yes, he's been in touch.

Seems desperate for my attention,

which I'm sure can be arranged.

I had all this stuff and 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?

The Ice Man...

..and the Virgin.

Didn't even ask for anything, he just likes to cause trouble -

that's my kind of man.

And here you are,

the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees.

Nicely played.

No.

Sorry?

I said no.

Very, very close, but no.

You got carried away.

The game was too elaborate, you were enjoying yourself too much.

There's no such thing as too much.

Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine.

Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathise, but sentiment?

Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.

Sentiment? What are you talking about?

You.

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?

No.

Because I took your pulse.

Elevated.

Your pupils dilated.

I imagine John Watson thinks love's a mystery to me,

but the chemistry is incredibly simple and very destructive.

When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait - how true of you.

the combination to your safe, your measurements -

but this, this is far more intimate,

this is your heart and you should never let it rule your head.

You could have chosen any number and walked out with everything.

But you just couldn't resist it, could you?

I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage.

Thank you for the final proof.

Everything I said, it's not real.

I was just playing the game.

I know.

And this is just losing.

There you are, Brother,

hope the contents make up for any inconvenience caused tonight.

-I'm certain they will.

-If you're feeling kind, lock her up,

let her go and I doubt she'll survive long.

-Are you expecting me to beg?

-Yes.

Please.

You're right.

I won't even last six months.

Sorry about dinner.

You don't smoke.

I also don't frequent cafes.

This the file on Irene Adler?

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.

Why would he care?

He despised her at the end.

Won't even mention her by name, just 'The Woman'.

Is that loathing or a salute?

One of a kind, the one woman who matters.

He's not like that.

He doesn't feel things that way, I don't think.

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?

I don't know.

Neither do I.

But, initially, he wanted to be a pirate.

He'll be OK with this -

witness protection, never seeing her again - he'll be fine.

I agree.

That's why I decided to tell him that.

Instead of what?

She's dead.

She was captured by a terrorist cell in Karachi two months ago

and beheaded.

It was definitely her?

She's done this before.

I was thorough this time.

It would take Sherlock Holmes to fool me,

and I don't think he was on hand, do you?

So...

What shall we tell Sherlock?

Clearly you've got news.

If it's about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener.

-Did nobody notice the earring?

-Hi.

Er no, it's, um...it's about Irene Adler.

Well?

Something happened? Has she come back?

No, she's...I bumped into Mycroft downstairs, he had to take a call.

Is she back in London?

No...

She's, er...

-She's in America.

-America?

Got herself on a witness protection scheme, apparently.

Don't know how she swung it, but...well, you know.

-I know what?

-You won't be able to see her again.

-Why would I want to see her again?

-Didn't say you did.

-Is that her file?

-Yes, I was going to take it back to Mycroft.

-Do you want to...

-No.

Listen, actually...

But I will have the camera-phone though.

-There's nothing on it, it's been stripped...

-I know, but I...

..I'll still have it.

I've got to give this back to Mycroft, you can't keep it.

Sherlock, I have to give this to Mycroft, it's the government's now...

Please.

Thank you.