[Sherlock standing with imagined Alistair at his grave]
AAlistair
Sherlock Holmes, when did you become such a cliché? Standing over a grave, head heavy with dark thoughts. If this were a scene in a play, I'd have refused to perform it.
You didn't let me down. What you did has got nothing to do with me. I understand that. Came here today because, um, because I loved you very much. And I wanted you to know that you'll be missed.
AAlistair
[quoting from 'Waiting for Godot'] At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on.
I came here to apologize. I owed you, and Detective Bell, a proper good-bye before I left. It was a difficult time. I was--I was thinking of no one but myself.
I had to determine how you'd fared in my absence. I wanted to know exactly how much to apologize for. Over the course of the last week, however, it's become clear that you've done remarkably well.
There's a term in psychology circles, functional fixedness, the understanding we develop as the brain matures that a given object has a given function. In layman's terms, it's "the right tool for the right job." Creativity, on the other hand, is often defined as the freedom from so limiting a cognitive bias. To his credit, Agent Boden has shown remarkable creativity. Everyone else looks at the seized inventory from Openshaw's company and they see a bunch of poison toys. Agent Boden looked at the very same inventory--
Phillip is arguably the greatest knife-thrower in the world. Has been for decades. Only there's little money to be made in the impalement arts, so as a youth he turned to what you Americans term football.
Yeah. [Phillip leaves.] Fifteen years he spent throwing that misshapen ball around. Fifteen years. When I think of the acclaim he could have brought to competitive blade-slinging.
Watson, this is Mason. Like many of his generation, he's named after a profession his parents would never deign to practice--Hunter, Tanner, Cooper, Mason, so forth.
It is, for the most part, boilerplate. My secrets stay secret. I have powerful enemies, Kitty. I work every day to make more. You are privy to my method and my madness. So you see the risk I'm taking on, do you not?
You're a son of a bitch, you know that? I told you what I told you in confidence. I told you because I had to tell someone, not because I wanted you to jump my partner in the middle of the street in front of half my precinct.
Well I got the whole 15th--people who have no idea what was going on--trying to figure out why you did it. You're not saying anything. Stotz isn't saying anything. But I'm hearing whispers everywhere I go this morning. This is worse than what happened.
