Page 48 - SHERLOCK transcripts

47

(He loudly clicks the ‘k’ on the last word. Your transcriber dutifully wibbles.)
JOHN (walking further into the room): It’s good news for breathing.
SHERLOCK (dismissively): Oh, breathing. Breathing’s boring.
(John frowns as he looks more closely at Sherlock’s arm.)
JOHN: Is that three patches?
SHERLOCK (pressing his hands together in the prayer position under his chin): It’s a three-
patch problem.
(He closes his eyes. John looks around the room for a moment, then looks down at Sherlock
again.)
JOHN: Well?
(Sherlock doesn’t respond.)
JOHN: You asked me to come. I’m assuming it’s important.
(Sherlock still doesn’t respond instantly, but after a couple of seconds his eyes snap open. He
doesn’t bother turning his head to look at John.)
SHERLOCK: Oh, yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?
JOHN: My phone?
SHERLOCK: Don’t wanna use mine. Always a chance that the number will be recognised. It’s on
the website.
JOHN: Mrs Hudson’s got a phone.
SHERLOCK: Yeah, she’s downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn’t hear.
JOHN (beginning to get angry): I was the other side of London.
SHERLOCK (mildly): There was no hurry.
(John glares at him as he gazes serenely at the ceiling before closing his eyes again. Eventually
John digs his phone out of his jacket pocket and holds it towards him.)
JOHN: Here.
(Without opening his eyes, Sherlock holds out his right hand with the palm up. John glowers at
him for a moment, then steps forward and slaps the phone into his hand. Sherlock slowly lifts
his arm and puts his hands together again, this time with the phone in between his palms. John
turns and walks a few paces away before turning around again.)
JOHN: So what’s this about – the case?
SHERLOCK (softly): Her case.
JOHN: Her case?
SHERLOCK (opening his eyes): Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase.
First big mistake.
JOHN: Okay, he took her case. So?
SHERLOCK (quietly, as if to himself): It’s no use, there’s no other way. We’ll have to risk it.
(Raising his voice a little, he imperiously holds the phone out towards John, still not looking at
him.)
SHERLOCK: On my desk there’s a number. I want you to send a text.
(John half-smiles in angry disbelief.)
JOHN (tightly): You brought me here ... to send a text.
SHERLOCK (oblivious to his anger): Text, yes. The number on my desk.
(He continues to hold the phone out while John glowers at him, possibly wondering if he can get
away with justifiable homicide. Eventually he stomps across the room and snatches the phone
from Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock refolds his hands under his chin and closes his eyes but instead
of going to the table, John walks over to the window and looks out of it into the street below.
Sherlock opens his eyes and tilts his head slightly towards him.)
SHERLOCK: What’s wrong?
JOHN: Just met a friend of yours.
(Sherlock frowns in confusion.)
SHERLOCK: A friend?
JOHN: An enemy.
(Sherlock immediately relaxes.)
SHERLOCK (calmly): Oh. Which one?
JOHN: Your arch-enemy, according to him. (He turns towards Sherlock.) Do people have arch-
enemies?
(Sherlock looks towards him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.)
SHERLOCK: Did he offer you money to spy on me?
JOHN: Yes.
SHERLOCK: Did you take it?
JOHN: No.

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)