Page 321 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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SHERLOCK: As I explained, the whole street was closed off ... (he smiles) ... like a scene from a
play.
(Anderson looks at him thoughtfully.)
SHERLOCK: Neat, don’t you think?
(Anderson looks off to the side.)
ANDERSON: Hmm.
SHERLOCK: What?
(Anderson shrugs.)
ANDERSON: Not the way I’d have done it.
SHERLOCK (folding his arms): Oh really?
ANDERSON: No, I’m not saying it’s not clever, but ...
SHERLOCK (sternly): What?
(Anderson shrugs again and waves his arm about as if he’s searching for the right words.)
ANDERSON: ... Bit ... disappointed.
(Sherlock sighs.)
SHERLOCK: Everyone’s a critic. Anyway, that’s not why I came.
ANDERSON: No?
SHERLOCK: No. I think you know why I’m here, Phillip. “How I Did It” by Jack the Ripper?
(Anderson looks at him wide-eyed, his mouth opening but no words coming out for a moment.
He lowers his head.)
ANDERSON: Didn’t you think it was intriguing? (He looks up hopefully.)
SHERLOCK (standing up): Lurid. A case so sensational, you hoped I’d be interested. But you
overdid it, Phillip – you and your little ‘fan club.’
(He starts to pace around him.)
ANDERSON: I just couldn’t live with myself, knowing that I’d driven you to ... (He stops.)
SHERLOCK: But you didn’t. You were always right. I wasn’t dead.
ANDERSON (staring up at him while he continues to pace): No. No, and everything’s okay now,
isn’t it?
SHERLOCK: Yeah.
(Anderson laughs in a relieved way.)
SHERLOCK (stopping and looking down at him): Of course you’ve wasted police time, perverted
the course of justice, risked distracting me from a massive terrorist assault that could have both
destroyed Parliament and caused the death of hundreds of people.
ANDERSON (tearfully): Oh, God.
(He breaks down in tears, grabbing Sherlock and pulling him close.)
ANDERSON: Oh, God, I’m sorry, Sherlock. I’m so sorry.
(He hangs on to him and weeps against his coat. Looking uncomfortable, Sherlock tentatively
pats him on the shoulder a couple of times.)
ANDERSON (abruptly stopping crying and looking round): Hang on.
(He stands up and walks over to his wall of papers.)
ANDERSON: That doesn’t make sense.
(Behind him Sherlock rolls his eyes and quietly sighs with an exasperated sound.)
ANDERSON: How could you be sure John would stand on that exact spot? I mean, what if he’d
moved?
(Sherlock turns and quietly leaves the room.)
ANDERSON (oblivious to his departure): Hey – how did you do it all so quickly? What if the bike
hadn’t hit him? (Suspiciously) And anyway, why are you telling me all this? (He chuckles.) If
you’d pulled that off, I’m the last person you’d tell the truth ...
(Turning around, he trails off when he realises that he’s alone in the room. He stares for a
moment, then chuckles. He switches between looking at all his paperwork and looking to where
Sherlock had been standing.)
ANDERSON (quietly, sounding amused): Sherlock Holmes!
(He chuckles again, pointing to the spot where Sherlock had just been standing.)
ANDERSON (even softer, with a combination of amusement and exasperation): Sherlock!
(His chuckle slowly develops into laughter, and then into hysterical laughter as he starts tearing
at the papers on the wall, ripping them off and whooping and giggling. Eventually he collapses
in the corner, rising up onto his knees to continue clawing at the papers and still laughing
hysterically until he slumps back down again.)

The whited-out scene fades back in again and John is standing in the Tube carriage with his
eyes closed and his head raised. He grips the handrail and lowers his head, blowing out a long

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)