Page 178 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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JOHN: What – what’s up, Sherlock?
SHERLOCK (continuing walking): I said excuse me.
JOHN (calling after him): D’you ever reply?
(Ignoring him, Sherlock walks into his bedroom, sits on the bed and opens the box. Inside is
Irene’s camera phone. He takes it out of the box and looks at it closely, then gazes off into the
distance thoughtfully.)
(In his own house – or possibly in an official government residence or even just a fancy office –
Mycroft is sitting by the fireside. His phone rings and he takes it from his jacket, looks at the
Caller ID and then, with a look of “Good grief!” on his face, he puts the phone to his ear.)
MYCROFT: Oh dear Lord. We’re not going to have Christmas phone calls now, are we? Have
they passed a new law?
SHERLOCK: I think you’re going to find Irene Adler tonight.
(John has come to the door of the bedroom and stands there listening to the conversation.)
MYCROFT: We already know where she is. As you were kind enough to point out, it hardly
matters.
SHERLOCK: No, I mean you’re going to find her dead.
(Hanging up the phone, he stands up and walks towards the bedroom door.)
JOHN: You okay?
SHERLOCK: Yes.
(He pushes the door closed, shutting John out. At his place, Mycroft gazes out of the window at
the falling snow.)

ST BARTHOLOMEW’S HOSPITAL. Sherlock and Mycroft walk to the morgue and go inside. Molly
is waiting inside. She has changed into trousers and a Christmassy jumper and is wearing her
lab coat open over the top of her clothes. A body is lying on the table covered with a sheet.
MYCROFT (to Sherlock): The only one that fitted the description. Had her brought here – your
home from home.
SHERLOCK: You didn’t need to come in, Molly.
MOLLY: That’s okay. Everyone else was busy with ... Christmas.
(Looking awkward, she gestures to the body.)
MOLLY: The face is a bit, sort of, bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult.
(She pulls the sheet down to reveal the face.)
MYCROFT: That’s her, isn’t it?
SHERLOCK (to Molly): Show me the rest of her.
(Grimacing, Molly walks along the side of the table, pulling the sheet back as she goes. Sherlock
looks along the length of the body once, then turns and starts to walk away.)
SHERLOCK: That’s her.
MYCROFT: Thank you, Miss Hooper.
MOLLY: Who is she? How did Sherlock recognise her from ... not her face?
(Mycroft smiles politely at her, then turns and follows his brother. He finds him standing in the
corridor outside, looking out of the window. Walking up behind him, he holds a cigarette over
his shoulder.)
MYCROFT: Just the one.
SHERLOCK: Why?
MYCROFT: Merry Christmas.
(Sherlock takes the cigarette and Mycroft digs into his coat pocket to find a lighter.)
SHERLOCK: Smoking indoors – isn’t there one of those ... one of those law things?
(Mycroft lights the cigarette for him.)
MYCROFT: We’re in a morgue. There’s only so much damage you can do.
(Sherlock inhales deeply and then blows the smoke out again.)
MYCROFT: How did you know she was dead?
SHERLOCK: She had an item in her possession, one she said her life depended on. She chose to
give it up.
(He takes another drag on his cigarette.)
MYCROFT: Where is this item now?
(Sherlock looks round at the sound of sobbing. A family of three people is standing on the other
side of the doors at the end of the corridor, cuddled together and clearly grieving the death of
someone close to them. Sherlock and his brother turn to look at the family.)
SHERLOCK: Look at them. They all care so much. Do you ever wonder if there’s something
wrong with us?

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)