Page 204 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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advertising “Boutique Rooms & Vegetarian Cuisine.” Fletcher runs over to a couple of the nearby
tourists and roars. They flinch and the woman shrieks in surprise.)

Flashback to Henry Knight’s father being grabbed by something in Dewer’s Hollow, and young
Henry’s horrified face. In the present, adult Henry flinches, his eyes closed as he sits half
reclined on a comfortable armchair. The flashbacks continue to haunt him until he opens his
eyes and sighs. A woman is sitting a short distance away with a notebook and pen on her lap.
HENRY: That part doesn’t change.
MORTIMER: What does?
(Henry runs his hands over his face.)
HENRY: Oh, there’s something else. It-it’s a word.
(Sighing heavily in concentration, he closes his eyes again and sees the word as if it is stitched
or knitted into some fabric.)
HENRY: “Liberty.”
(He opens his eyes again.)
MORTIMER: Liberty?
HENRY (closing his eyes again): There’s another word. (He concentrates and sees the next word
stitched in the fabric.) “In.” I-N. “Liberty In.” (He looks at his therapist.) What do you think it
means?
(She shakes her head. He sighs in frustration.)

CROSS KEYS INN. While Sherlock prowls around the interior of the pub, John is at the bar
checking in. The manager and barman, Gary, hands him some keys.
GARY: Eh, sorry we couldn’t do a double room for you boys.
JOHN: That’s fine. We-we’re not ...
(He looks at the smug knowing smile on Gary’s face and gives up.)
JOHN (giving him some money for the drink he has just bought): There you go.
GARY: Oh, ta. I’ll just get your change.
JOHN: Ta.
(As Gary goes to the till, John’s glance falls on a pile of receipts and invoices which have been
punched onto a spike on the bar. He frowns when he sees that one is labelled “Undershaw Meat
Supplies.” Quickly he reaches out and rips it from the spike, putting it into his pocket as Gary
comes back with his change.)
GARY: There you go.
JOHN: I couldn’t help noticing on the map of the moor: a skull and crossbones.
GARY: Oh that, aye.
JOHN: Pirates?!
GARY: Eh, no, no. The Great Grimpen Minefield, they call it.
JOHN: Oh, right.
GARY: It’s not what you think. It’s the Baskerville testing site. It’s been going for eighty-odd
years. I’m not sure anyone really knows what’s there any more.
(Nearby, Sherlock is still prowling around and now seems to find something of interest at one of
the tables.)
JOHN (to Gary): Explosives?
GARY: Oh, not just explosives. Break into that place and – if you’re lucky – you just get blown
up, so they say ... in case you’re planning on a nice wee stroll.
(Sherlock loses interest in the table and wanders off again.)
JOHN: Ta. I’ll remember.
GARY: Aye. No, it buggers up tourism a bit, so thank God for the demon hound! (He chuckles,
coming out from behind the bar presumably to clear some glasses.) Did you see that show, that
documentary?
JOHN: Quite recently, yeah.
GARY: Aye. God bless Henry Knight and his monster from hell.
JOHN: Ever seen it – the hound?
GARY: Me? No.
(He points out the door past Sherlock, where Fletcher is just outside the pub and talking on his
phone.)
GARY: Fletcher has. He runs the walks – the Monster Walks for the tourists, you know? He’s
seen it.
JOHN: That’s handy for trade.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)