Page 59 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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(In flashback, James Phillimore walks across the road, huddled against the pouring rain as a
vacant taxi drives along the road behind him.)
(In flashback, Beth Davenport looks around despairingly when she realises that she doesn’t
have her car keys. Nearby, a vacant cab pulls up.)
(In the flat, Sherlock turns, his mind racing as he puts all the clues together.)
(In flashback, Jennifer Wilson arrives at a London train terminus and gets into the back of a
taxi.)
(Sherlock turns his head, still putting it all together. On the landing, the taxi driver takes a pink
smartphone from his pocket and presses the screen to send a text. A moment later, Sherlock’s
own phone trills a text alert. Taking his phone from his jacket pocket he looks at the message
which simply reads: COME WITH ME. As he turns his head towards the door, the taxi driver
turns around and calmly heads off down the stairs.)
JOHN: Sherlock, you okay?
SHERLOCK (vaguely, watching the man go): What? Yeah, yeah, I-I’m fine.
JOHN: So, how can the phone be here?
SHERLOCK (still watching the taxi driver): Dunno.
JOHN (getting up to get his own phone out of his jeans pocket): I’ll try it again.
SHERLOCK: Good idea.
(He heads towards the door.)
JOHN: Where are you going?
SHERLOCK: Fresh air. Just popping outside for a moment. Won’t be long.
(John frowns as Sherlock leaves the room, and calls after him.)
JOHN: You sure you’re all right?
SHERLOCK (hurrying down the stairs): I’m fine.

Downstairs, Sherlock opens the front door and stands on the doorstep for a moment while he
shrugs himself into his coat. A taxi is parked at the kerb and the driver, Jeff Hope, is leaning
casually against the side of the cab.
JEFF: Taxi for Sherlock ’olmes.
(Sherlock steps forward, closing the door behind him.)
SHERLOCK: I didn’t order a taxi.
JEFF: Doesn’t mean you don’t need one.
SHERLOCK: You’re the cabbie. The one who stopped outside Northumberland Street.
(In flashback, the American man sits in the back of the cab outside the restaurant and turns his
head to the front. In the driver’s seat, Jeff looks over his shoulder and through the rear window
of the cab before turning around again and starting to drive away.)
SHERLOCK: It was you, not your passenger.
JEFF: See? No-one ever thinks about the cabbie. It’s like you’re invisible. Just the back of an
’ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer.
(Sherlock takes a few more steps forward and looks up towards the windows of his flat.)
SHERLOCK: Is this a confession?
JEFF: Oh, yeah. An’ I’ll tell you what else: if you call the coppers now, I won’t run. I’ll sit quiet
and they can take me down, I promise.
SHERLOCK: Why?
JEFF: ’Cause you’re not gonna do that.
SHERLOCK: Am I not?
JEFF: I didn’t kill those four people, Mr ’olmes. I spoke to ’em ... and they killed themselves. An’
if you get the coppers now, I promise you one thing.
(He leans forward.)
JEFF: I will never tell you what I said.
(Sherlock stares at him. After a moment, Jeff straightens up and starts to walk around the front
of the cab.)
SHERLOCK: No-one else will die, though, and I believe they call that a result.
(Jeff stops and turns back towards him.)
JEFF: An’ you won’t ever understand how those people died. What kind of result do you care
about?
(He turns again and continues around to the driver’s door. Getting in, he sits down and closes
the door, settling into his seat and ignoring Sherlock. Biting his lip, Sherlock walks closer to the
cab, looking up again at the flat windows, then he bends and looks into the open side window of
the cab.)
SHERLOCK: If I wanted to understand, what would I do?

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)