Page 405 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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(He looks up at Greg and dismissively waves him away. [Mystrade fans pout with annoyance.])

Molly is sitting in a canteen wearing her lab coat and holding a cardboard coffee cup. Some
sandwiches part-wrapped in tin foil, together with a tangerine, are on the table beside her. She
looks up at whoever she’s speaking to. We can’t see this person because we are looking through
their eyes.
MOLLY: Just the spare bedroom. ... (Awkwardly) Well ... my bedroom. We agreed he needs the
space.
(She nods, looking embarrassed, and takes a drink from her cup.)

There’s a brief shot of Big Ben chiming two minutes past nine [don’t ask ...].
MRS HUDSON: Behind the clock face of Big Ben.
(We’re now in 221. John is sitting on the stairs with a notebook and pen in his hand and Mrs H
stands in the hall nearby.)
JOHN: I think he was probably joking.
MRS HUDSON: No! I don’t think so!

ANDERSON: Leinster Gardens. That’s his number one bolt hole. It’s top-top secret.
(He is standing with Benji in what looks like a car park or garage area, and he is addressing his
comments to Mary who stands in front of them.)
BENJI (tilting her head towards Anderson but looking at Mary): He only knows about it ’cause
he stalked him one night.
ANDERSON: Followed!
BENJI: Followed, yeah.

221B. John is in the living room, pacing, and Greg and Mrs Hudson are in the kitchen.
JOHN: He knew who shot him.
(The other two turn to face him as he stops walking and looks at them. He points to his lower
chest.)
JOHN: The bullet wound was here, so he was facing whoever it was.
LESTRADE (walking closer): So why not tell us?
(John turns around towards the window, blowing out a thoughtful breath.)
LESTRADE: Because he’s tracking them down himself.
JOHN (turning back to him): Or protecting them.
LESTRADE: Protecting the shooter? Why?
JOHN: Well, protecting someone, then. But why would he care? He’s Sherlock. Who would he
bother protecting?
(He sits down in his armchair, then looks down at it and frowns. Looking thoughtful, he pats the
arms.)
LESTRADE: Call me if you hear anything. Don’t hold out on me, John.
(John is still looking puzzled over the reappearance of his chair.)
LESTRADE: Call me, okay?
JOHN (distractedly, glancing round at him): Yeah. Yeah, right.
(Greg looks round to Mrs Hudson.)
LESTRADE: Good night, then.
MRS HUDSON: Oh ...
(She walks over towards the living room door as Greg leaves. John strokes the arms of his chair
with his thumbs, frowning down.)
MRS HUDSON (to Greg): ’Bye, then.
(She turns back to John and looks at him worriedly.)
MRS HUDSON: John? Need a cuppa.
(She walks into the kitchen and John shifts in his chair so that he can half-turn towards her.)
JOHN: Mrs Hudson ... (he clears his throat) ... wh-why does Sherlock think that I’ll be moving
back in here?
MRS HUDSON: Oh, yes, he’s put your chair back again, hasn’t he?
JOHN: Huh. (He sits back in the chair again, still looking at it thoughtfully.)
MRS HUDSON: That’s nice!
(She has picked up the kettle and now walks closer to him.)
MRS HUDSON: Looks much better.
(John’s gaze falls on the small table to the right of his chair. There are two books on it and in
front of them is an ornate glass bottle, shaped like a crescent moon. He frowns at it.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)