Page 450 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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schedule in the writing of this transcript, your transcriber re-runs those few seconds several
many many times for science and absolutely no other reason.
WATSON (offscreen): Holmes?
HOLMES: Hush, Watson.
[Yeah, hush, Watson. Your own Boswell is busy drooling.]
WATSON (out of the side of his mouth): But Emelia Ricoletti, the Bride!
LADY CARMICHAEL: You know the name.
HOLMES: You must forgive Watson. He has an enthusiasm for stating the obvious which borders
on mania.
(He turns a pointed look towards Watson, who throws a dark look back at him.)
HOLMES (to Lady Carmichael): May I ask: how is your husband this morning?
LADY CARMICHAEL: He refuses to speak about the matter. Obviously I have urged him to leave
the house.
HOLMES: No, no! He must stay exactly where he is.
LADY CARMICHAEL: Well, you don’t think he’s in danger?
HOLMES: Oh no, somebody definitely wants to kill him, but that’s good for us. You can’t set a
trap without bait.
(He smiles at her. She gasps.)
LADY CARMICHAEL: My husband is not bait, Mr Holmes.
HOLMES: No. But he could be if we play our cards right.
(Watson raises his eyebrows.)
HOLMES: Now, listen: you must go home immediately. Doctor Watson and I will follow on the
next train. There’s not a moment to lose. Sir Eustace is to die tonight.
WATSON: Holmes!
HOLMES: ... and we should ... probably avoid that.
WATSON: Definitely.
HOLMES: Definitely avoid that.
(Lady Carmichael looks rather confused, but nods.)

THE DIOGENES CLUB. Mycroft Holmes is in The Stranger’s Room.
MYCROFT HOLMES: Little brother has taken the case, of course. I now rely on you to keep an
eye on things, but he must never suspect you of working for me. Are you clear on that,
Watson?
(Behind him, Mary Watson walks into view and smiles at his back.)
MRS WATSON: You can rely on me, Mr Holmes.

TRAIN CARRIAGE. Holmes and Watson are sitting opposite each other in the window seats of a
single compartment. Holmes has his eyes closed, while Watson is looking out of the window.
After a while he turns to his companion.
WATSON: You don’t suppose ...
HOLMES: I don’t, and neither should you.
WATSON: You don’t know what I was going to say.
HOLMES (his eyes still closed): You were about to suggest there may be some supernatural
agency involved in this matter, and I was about to laugh in your face.
WATSON: But the Bride! Holmes, Emelia Ricoletti, again. A dead woman, walking the Earth!
(Holmes sighs heavily and opens his eyes.)
HOLMES: You amaze me, Watson.
WATSON: I do?
HOLMES: Since when have you had any kind of imagination?
WATSON: Perhaps since I convinced the reading public that an unprincipled drug addict is some
kind of gentleman hero.
HOLMES: Yes, now you come to mention it, that was quite impressive. (He looks down
thoughtfully for a moment, then raises his eyes again.) You may, however, rest assured there
are no ghosts in this world.
(Watson nods slightly and looks out of the window. Holmes lowers his eyes.)
HOLMES (quietly): ... save those we make for ourselves.
(He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the headrest.)
WATSON (looking round to him): Sorry, what did you say?
(Holmes keeps his eyes closed.)
WATSON: Ghosts we make for ourselves? What do you mean?
(Holmes doesn’t respond. Watson sighs.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)