Page 124 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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MYCROFT (lowering his hand): There was no ticket on the body.
JOHN: Then ...
MYCROFT: Then how did 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 provide an answer to. How’s he
getting on?
JOHN: He-he’s fine, yes. Oh, and-and it is going ... very well. It’s, um, you know – he’s
completely focussed on it.
(He grins at Mycroft unconvincingly.)

THREE HOURS TO GO. Darkness has fallen and the woman still sits in the car and sobs.

221B. Sherlock has moved to the side table in the kitchen and is looking into his microscope.
Mrs Hudson comes in through the kitchen door with a tray containing a couple of mugs. As she
puts them on the kitchen table, Sherlock looks up.
SHERLOCK: Poison.
MRS HUDSON: What you going on about?
(Sherlock slams his hands down on the side table.)
SHERLOCK: Clostridium botulinum!
(Mrs Hudson cringes and flees the kitchen. Sherlock looks round at John as he comes in from
the living room.)
SHERLOCK: It’s one of the deadliest poisons on the planet!
(John looks at him blankly.)
SHERLOCK: Carl Powers!
JOHN: Oh, wait, are you saying he was murdered?
(Sherlock stands up and walks over to where he has hung up the laces from the trainers.)
SHERLOCK: Remember the shoelaces?
JOHN: Mmm.
SHERLOCK: The boy suffered from eczema. It’d be the easiest thing in the world to introduce
the poison into his medication. Two hours later he comes up to London, the poison takes effect,
paralyses the muscles and he drowns.
JOHN: What – how-how come the autopsy didn’t pick that up?
SHERLOCK: It’s virtually undetectable. Nobody would have been looking for it.
(He has walked around the table to where his computer notebook is lying. The page is open at
the Forum of his own website, The Science of Deduction, and he now begins to type into the
message box:

FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989).

SHERLOCK (straightening up to point to the laces): But there were still tiny traces of it left
inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet.
(He bends down and continues to type:

Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St.

He sends the message and straightens up.)
SHERLOCK: That’s why they had to go.
JOHN: So how do we let the bomber know ...
SHERLOCK: Get his attention ...
JOHN: Mm-hm.
SHERLOCK (looking at his watch): ... stop the clock.
JOHN: The killer kept the shoes all these years.
SHERLOCK: Yes. (He looks at John.) Meaning ...
JOHN: He’s our bomber.
(The pink phone rings on the side table. Sherlock hurries over to it and switches on the speaker.
In the car park, the woman sobs in anguish as she reads out the latest message from the
pager.)
WOMAN: Well done, you. Come and get me.
SHERLOCK (loudly and clearly): Where are you? Tell us where you are.

Some time later the woman stares anxiously out of the car window as members of a bomb
disposal team, dressed in protective padded clothing, make their way towards the car.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)