Page 221 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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suntanned and with sunglasses on, Detective Inspector Lestrade has his hands in his trouser
pockets and is looking the absolute epitome of casual drop-dead gorgeousness. Fandom’s
underwear simultaneously explodes worldwide and hello, Inspector, have you come to take
down my particulars? Your transcriber sticks her head into a bucket of cold water for a minute
and then gets back to work as Sherlock storms into the pub.)
SHERLOCK: What the hell are you doing here?
LESTRADE: Well, nice to see you too(!) I’m on holiday, would you believe?
SHERLOCK: No, I wouldn’t.
LESTRADE (taking off his sunglasses as John walks over to the bar): Hullo, John.
JOHN: Greg!
LESTRADE: I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like
on the telly?
SHERLOCK: I’m waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?
LESTRADE: I’ve told you: I’m on holiday.
SHERLOCK: You’re brown as a nut. You’re clearly just back from your ‘holidays.’
LESTRADE (trying to look nonchalant): Yeah, well I fancied another one.
SHERLOCK: Oh, this is Mycroft, isn’t it?
LESTRADE: No, look ...
SHERLOCK: Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to ... to
spy on me incognito. Is that why you’re calling yourself Greg?
JOHN: That’s his name.
SHERLOCK (frowning): Is it?
LESTRADE: Yes – if you’d ever bothered to find out. Look, I’m not your handler ... (he turns
away to pick up his pint from the bar) ... and I don’t just do what your brother tells me.
JOHN: Actually, you could be just the man we want.
SHERLOCK: Why?
JOHN: Well, I’ve not been idle, Sherlock. (He rummages in his trouser pocket.) I think I might
have found something.
(He shows Sherlock the sales invoice from Undershaw Meat Supplies which he stole off the bar
while he was checking in.)
JOHN: Here. Didn’t know if it was relevant; starting to look like it might be. That is an awful lot
of meat for a vegetarian restaurant.
SHERLOCK: Excellent.
JOHN (looking at Greg): Nice scary inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls
might come in very handy.
(Sherlock and Greg exchange a look, and John slaps his hand down on the bell on top of the
bar.)
JOHN: Shop!

Later, in the small Snug next to the bar, Greg is sitting at a table looking through paperwork –
presumably previous invoices from Undershaw – while Gary the manager and Billy the chef sit
at the other side of the table looking at him anxiously. Nearby, Sherlock has poured a cup of
coffee from a filter machine and is stirring it. He ostentatiously taps the drips off the spoon into
the cup and then picks it up and carries it over to John, offering it to him.
JOHN: What’s this?
SHERLOCK: Coffee. I made coffee.
JOHN: You never make coffee.
SHERLOCK: I just did. Don’t you want it?
JOHN: You don’t have to keep apologising.
(Sherlock looks away with a hurt expression on his face. John relents and takes the cup and
saucer.)
JOHN: Thanks.
(Sherlock smiles happily. John takes a mouthful and grimaces.)
JOHN: Mm. I don’t take sugar ...
(The hurt expression comes back onto Sherlock’s face as he looks away again. He’s like a puppy
whose owner has just told him off for chewing his slippers. John looks at his face and feels that
he has no choice but to take a longer drink from the cup.)
LESTRADE: These records go back nearly two months.
(Grimacing at the taste, John puts the cup back into the saucer and looks at Sherlock.)
JOHN: That’s nice. That’s good.
(He turns away to put the drink down while Greg continues interrogating Gary and Billy.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)