Page 42 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn’t dried. So, where has there
been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?
(He gets his phone from his pocket and shows to the other two the webpage he was looking at
earlier, displaying today’s weather for the southern part of Britain.)
SHERLOCK: Cardiff.
JOHN: That’s fantastic!
SHERLOCK (turning to him and speaking in a low voice): D’you know you do that out loud?
JOHN: Sorry. I’ll shut up.
SHERLOCK: No, it’s ... fine.
LESTRADE: Why d’you keep saying suitcase?
SHERLOCK (spinning around in a circle to look around the room): Yes, where is it? She must
have had a phone or an organiser. Find out who Rachel is.
LESTRADE: She was writing ‘Rachel’?
SHERLOCK (sarcastically): No, she was leaving an angry note in German(!) Of course she was
writing Rachel; no other word it can be. Question is: why did she wait until she was dying to
write it?
LESTRADE: How d’you know she had a suitcase?
SHERLOCK (pointing down to the body, where her tights have small black splotches on the
lower part of her right leg): Back of the right leg: tiny splash marks on the heel and calf, not
present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don’t
get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size,
woman this clothes-conscious: could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was staying one
night.
(He squats down by the woman’s body and examines the backs of her legs more closely.)
SHERLOCK: Now, where is it? What have you done with it?
LESTRADE: There wasn’t a case.
(Slowly Sherlock raises his head and frowns up at Lestrade.)
SHERLOCK: Say that again.
LESTRADE: There wasn’t a case. There was never any suitcase.
(Immediately Sherlock straightens up and heads for the door, calling out to all the police
officers in the house as he begins to hurry down the stairs.)
SHERLOCK: Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?
(Lestrade and John follow him out and stop on the landing. Lestrade calls down the stairs.)
LESTRADE: Sherlock, there was no case!
SHERLOCK (slowing down, but still making his way down the stairs): But they take the poison
themselves; they chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs. Even you lot
couldn’t miss them.
LESTRADE: Right, yeah, thanks(!) And ...?
SHERLOCK: It’s murder, all of them. I don’t know how, but they’re not suicides, they’re killings
– serial killings.
(He holds his hands up in front of his face in delight.)
SHERLOCK: We’ve got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There’s always something to look
forward to.
LESTRADE: Why are you saying that?
SHERLOCK (stopping and calling up to the others): Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did
she eat it?(!) Someone else was here, and they took her case. (More quietly, as if talking to
himself) So the killer must have driven her here; forgot the case was in the car.
JOHN: She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there.
SHERLOCK (looking up the stairs again): No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She
colour-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She’d never have left any hotel with her hair still
looking ...
(He stops talking as he makes a realisation.)
SHERLOCK: Oh.
(His eyes widen and his face lights up.)
SHERLOCK: Oh!
(He claps his hands together in delight.)
JOHN: Sherlock?
LESTRADE (leaning over the railings): What is it, what?
SHERLOCK (smiling cheerfully to himself): Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for
them to make a mistake.
LESTRADE: We can’t just wait!

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)