Page 463 - SHERLOCK transcripts

462

(She smiles at him, then looks back down to the phone.)
MARY: Emelia Ricoletti. Unsolved ...
(Sherlock has bowed his head and now lowers it into his hands. Mary nods towards him.)
MARY: ... like he says.
SHERLOCK (raising his head with his eyes closed): Could you all just shut up for five minutes?
(He opens his eyes.) I have to go back. I was nearly there before you stepped on and starting
yapping away.
JOHN: ‘Yapping’? (Sarcastically) Sorry – did we interrupt your session?
MYCROFT (leaning forward): Sherlock, listen to me.
SHERLOCK (closing his eyes): No. It only encourages you.
MYCROFT: I’m not angry with you ...
SHERLOCK: Oh, that’s a relief. I was really worried. (He opens his eyes.) No, hold on. (He looks
at Mycroft.) I really wasn’t.
(They lock eyes for a moment.)
MYCROFT (softly): I was there for you before. I’ll be there for you again.
(They continue to look at each other.)
MYCROFT (softly): I’ll always be there for you. (He looks down.) This was my fault.
SHERLOCK (shaking his head slightly): It was nothing to do with you.
MYCROFT (gazing downwards reflectively): A week in a prison cell. I should have realised.
SHERLOCK: Realised what?
MYCROFT: That in your case, solitary confinement is locking you up with your worst enemy.
(Sherlock sighs and rolls his head back.)
SHERLOCK: Oh, for God’s sake.
(He buries his head in one hand.)
JOHN (offscreen): Morphine or cocaine?
(Sherlock raises his head and turns to frown at John.)
SHERLOCK: What did you say?
JOHN: I didn’t say anything.
SHERLOCK: No, you did. You said ...
(As he says the next sentence, it’s Sherlock’s lips moving but we hear John’s voice.)
SHERLOCK/JOHN: Which is it today – morphine or cocaine?
(Sherlock stares at John, who looks confused. Mary sits up in her chair, looking alert, and
Mycroft frowns across to his brother.)
SHERLOCK/WATSON: Holmes?
(And in the sitting room of Victorian 221B, Holmes is lying on his side on the floor.)
WATSON (offscreen): Morphine or cocaine? Which is it today?
(Holmes’ fingers twitch as the sitting room door slams.)
WATSON (offscreen): Answer me, damn it!
(Holmes jolts awake. His head is resting on a cushion, and the syringe and its case are lying
near his hand.)
HOLMES: Moriarty was here.
(At the door, Watson is taking off his gloves.)
WATSON: Moriarty’s dead.
(Holmes waves his hand vaguely and rolls a little more onto his back.)
HOLMES: I was on a jet.
WATSON: A what?
HOLMES (raising his head): You were there, and Mycroft.
(He props himself up onto his elbow, while Watson walks across towards the fireplace.)
WATSON: You haven’t left these rooms, Holmes. You ... haven’t ... moved. Now, tell me,
morphine or cocaine?
HOLMES (running his hand over his hair): Cocaine.
(He drags himself onto his knees.)
HOLMES: A seven percent solution.
(Picking up the syringe, he puts it into the case, then stands up and offers the case to Watson.)
HOLMES: Would you care to try it?
WATSON (tightly): No, but I would quite like to find every ounce of the stuff in your possession
and pour it out of the window.
HOLMES (smirking): I should be inclined to stop you.
WATSON: Then you would be reminded ... quite forcibly ... which of us is a soldier and which of
us a drug addict.
HOLMES: You’re not a soldier. You are a doctor.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)