Page 92 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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SOO LIN: Two orphans. We had no choice. We could work for the Black Lotus, or starve on the
streets like beggars.
(The hands have folded the sheet of paper a few times, pressing down to set the folds, and now
open the sheet out flat again. They fold one of the corners up, then turn the paper around to
start folding up the opposite corner.)
SOO LIN: My brother has become their puppet, in the power of the one they call Shan – the
Black Lotus general.
(The hands continue folding the paper.)
SOO LIN: I turned my brother away. He said I had betrayed him. Next day I came to work and
the cipher was waiting.
(The hands have nearly completed their work and the paper is now folded into an intricate
shape.)
(In the museum, Sherlock lays the photographs on the table.)
SHERLOCK: Can you decipher these?
(Soo Lin leans forward and points to the mark beside Sir William’s portrait.)
SOO LIN: These are numbers.
SHERLOCK: Yes, I know.
SOO LIN (pointing to another photograph): Here: the line across the man’s eyes – it’s the
Chinese number one.
SHERLOCK (pointing to the first photo): And this one is fifteen. But what’s the code?
SOO LIN: All the smugglers know it. It’s based upon a book ...
(Just then almost all the lights go out. Soo Lin looks up in dread. Sherlock straightens up and
looks around sharply.)
SOO LIN (softly, her face full of terror): He’s here. Zhi Zhu. He has found me.
(And Sherlock’s off, racing across the room. John calls to him softly but urgently.)
JOHN: Sh-Sherlock. Sherlock, wait!
(Sherlock charges out of the room. John turns to Soo Lin and grabs her hand.)
JOHN: Come here.
(He pulls her across the room towards another room, or possibly a cupboard – it’s not clear
which.)
JOHN: Get in. Get in!
(Sherlock races across a large open foyer with a staircase at each end and a balcony
surrounding the floor above. He stops in the middle of the foyer and looks around. From his
right, a figure runs across the balcony and fires a pistol at him. Sherlock turns and runs in the
opposite direction, flinging himself to the floor and sliding along it to take shelter behind a
statue on a low plinth. The figure fires a couple more times as Sherlock scrambles behind the
plinth. In the restoration room, John looks up at the sound of gunfire, then turns to Soo Lin.)
JOHN: I have to go and help. Bolt the door after me.
(He hurries off. Soo Lin’s face fills with dread. John makes his way cautiously out into the foyer,
then ducks and runs for cover as more gunshots ring out. The figure runs back across the
balcony and disappears from view. Sherlock comes out from behind the plinth and hares across
the foyer and up the stairs. John peers out from behind a column at the other end of the foyer
as Sherlock reaches the top of the stairs and tears around the corner. He pelts into another
display room and the gunman runs out of cover behind him and fires towards him again.
Sherlock ducks behind a display cabinet displaying some ancient skulls as the figure fires
again.)
SHERLOCK (calling out): Careful!
(The gunman fires again.)
SHERLOCK (calling out): Some of those skulls are over two hundred thousand years old! Have a
bit of respect!
(He pauses for a couple of seconds, breathing heavily. There are no more gunshots.)
SHERLOCK: Thank you(!)
(There’s no more sound from the gunman. After a moment Sherlock frowns, then carefully
peers through the glass of the case.)
(In the restoration room, Soo Lin looks up anxiously. [A drum beat begins to sound. Again, I’m
not sure whether she actually hears this or if it’s dramatic background music, but she closes her
eyes in despair at the same moment. Upstairs, Sherlock also looks around as if he can hear the
drumming and on the landing, John looks around too. As the drumming stops,] Soo Lin takes a
shaky breath and slowly begins to crawl out of her hiding place. On the desk, paperwork is
fluttering in a slight breeze. Soo Lin crawls to the edge of the table and peers over the top of it
before slowly standing up. Behind her, a Chinese man a little older than her silently walks up

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)