Page 459 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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MORIARTY: ... manly.
(He wanders closer and stops very close to Holmes.)
HOLMES: I’m sure you’ve acquainted yourself with them before now.
MORIARTY: Well, you are always away on your little adventures for The Strand. Tell me: does
the illustrator travel with you? Do you have to pose ...
(Lifting the pistol, he touches the end of the barrel to his chin while he steeples the fingers of
the other hand against it.)
MORIARTY: ... during your deductions?
(He lowers his hands and wanders towards the fireplace.)
HOLMES (turning to keep him in sight): I’m aware of all six occasions you have visited these
apartments during my absence.
MORIARTY: I know you are.
(He runs his fingers along the top of the mantelpiece. It’s very dusty.)
MORIARTY (looking down at his dusty fingertips): By the way, you have a surprisingly
comfortable bed.
(He looks round to Holmes and smiles.)
MORIARTY (looking back at his fingertips): Did you know that dust is largely composed of
human skin?
HOLMES: Yes.
(Moriarty opens his mouth, sticks his fingertips onto his tongue and licks them. Holmes, his
hand still in his pocket, looks slightly appalled.)
MORIARTY: Doesn’t taste the same, though. You want your skin fresh ... (he waves the licked
hand in the air as if trying to describe the flavour of his favourite recipe) ... just a little crispy.
(Holmes sighs.)
HOLMES (gesturing to Watson’s chair): Won’t you sit down?
MORIARTY: That’s all people really are, you know: dust waiting to be distributed. And it gets
everywhere ... (he sticks out his tongue and waggles it as if trying to shake off the dust he just
licked) ... in every breath you take, dancing in every sunbeam, all used-up people.
HOLMES (cocking one eyebrow): Fascinating, I’m sure.
(He gestures to Watson’s chair again.)
HOLMES: Won’t you sit ...
MORIARTY (talking over him and now staring down into the muzzle of his gun): People, people,
people. Can’t keep anything shiny.
(He blows into the end three times, then lifts the gun and peers into it.)
MORIARTY: D’you mind if I fire this, just to clean it out?
(He turns the gun and points it at Holmes. Instantly Holmes snatches out his own gun and
points it at his enemy. They stand there for several seconds, the ends of their pistols almost
touching. Eventually and almost simultaneously – although Holmes makes the first move – they
lift their guns to point the muzzles upwards. Moriarty slowly swings his pistol around to lower it
to his side, while Holmes drops his own gun onto the nearby table.)
MORIARTY: Exactly. Let’s stop playing. We don’t need toys to kill each other. Where’s the
intimacy in that?
(Holmes walks closer to him.)
HOLMES: Sit down.
MORIARTY: Why? What do you want?
HOLMES (still walking closer): You chose to come here.
MORIARTY: Not true. You know that’s not true.
(Holmes has stopped a pace away from him. They stare into each other’s eyes.)
MORIARTY: What do you want, Sherlock?
HOLMES: The truth.
(Moriarty nods.)
MORIARTY: That.
(He starts to walk past him but turns to put his face close to Holmes’.)
MORIARTY: Truth’s boring.
(He walks slowly across the room. Holmes turns to watch him.)
MORIARTY: You didn’t expect me to turn up at the scene of the crime, did you? Poor old Sir
Eustace. He got what was coming to him.
HOLMES: But you couldn’t have killed him.
MORIARTY (turning back to face him): Oh, so what? Does it matter? Stop it. Stop this. You
don’t care about Sir Eustace, or the Bride or any of it. There’s only one thing in this whole
business that you find interesting.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)