Page 379 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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MARY: I’m trying.
(She walks briskly towards the passenger side of the car.)
JOHN: No, you can’t come. You’re pregnant.
MARY: You can’t go. I’m pregnant.
(She opens the passenger door and gets in, shutting the door. John looks away for a moment,
then gets into the car.)

Later, they have parked on a piece of concreted waste ground outside the address Kate gave
them. John opens the boot of the car and takes out something, then walks round to the
passenger side. Mary laughs and points at what he’s tucking into the top of his jeans.
MARY: What is that?!
JOHN: It’s a tyre lever.
MARY: Why?
JOHN (nodding towards the house): ’Cause there were loads of smackheads in there, and one of
them might need help with a tyre. If there’s any trouble, just go. I’ll be fine.
(He turns and starts to walk towards the house but Mary gets out of the car.)
MARY: Er, John, John, John, John.
(He stops and turns back to her.)
MARY: It is a tiny bit sexy.
JOHN (nonchalantly): Yeah, I know.
(He walks across to the front door of the house, which has a large sign stuck to the front of it
saying, “PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT,” and bangs loudly on the door.)
JOHN: Hello?
(The door is opened by a young man wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up over his head. He
looks scruffy and dirty.)
BILL: What d’you want?
JOHN: ’Scuse me.
(He barges his way in and walks down the hall. Bill looks outside for a moment, then turns
towards John.)
BILL: Naah, naah, you can’t come in ’ere!
JOHN (looking into a room as he walks past): I’m looking for a friend.
(He continues on, looking into doorways as he goes.)
JOHN: A very specific friend – I’m not just browsing.
(Reaching the last room, he looks in there and then starts walking back again.)
BILL: You’ve gotta go. No-one’s allowed ’ere.
JOHN (stopping several paces away from Bill and clearing his throat): Isaac Whitney. You seen
him?
(Bill takes a flick-knife from his pocket and snaps the blade open, holding it towards John.)
JOHN: I’m asking you if you’ve seen Isaac Whitney, and now you’re showing me a knife. Is it a
clue?
(Bill gestures with his knife towards the open door behind him.)
JOHN: Are you doing a mime?
BILL: Go. Or I’ll cut you.
JOHN: Ooh, not from there. Let me help.
(He walks towards him, stopping close enough to Bill that he could stab him if he wanted to. Bill
stares back at him wide-eyed.)
JOHN (now in full soldier mode): Now, concentrate. (Slowly, precisely) Isaac Whitney.
BILL: Okay, you asked for it.
(Before Bill can even think about moving, John lashes out with his left hand, seizing Bill’s right
arm and slamming his right hand down onto the arm. As Bill cries out in pain John wraps his
right hand round the front of Bill’s neck and slams him against the wall, then uses his right foot
to sweep Bill’s feet from under him. Bill slumps to the floor and John steps back. Bill chokes and
groans in pain. John bends down and picks up the flick-knife which has fallen to the floor.)
JOHN: Right.
(He squats down beside Bill.)
JOHN: Are you concentrating yet?
BILL: You broke my arm!
JOHN: No, I sprained it.
(He looks all around to make sure there’s no-one else nearby.)
BILL: It feels squishy! Is it supposed to feel squishy?
(He holds out his right arm to John.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)