Sherlock quotes

[Unzips a body-bag, smiles at what he sees] How fresh?

Just in. 67. Natural causes. He used to work here. I knew him, he was nice.

Fine. We'll start with the riding crop.

[Cut to Sherlock vigorously beating the dead body with a riding crop. He stops suddenly.]

Bad day, was it?

I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me.

Listen, I was wondering. Maybe later when you're finished—

You're wearing lipstick. You weren't wearing lipstick before.

I, uh, I refreshed it a bit.

[beat] Sorry. You were saying?

I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee?

Black, two sugars please. I'll be upstairs.

[Sherlock leaves the room]

...Okay.

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[Looking around at the morgue's lab equipment] Bit different from my day.

MMike

You've no idea.

Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine.

MMike

And what's wrong with the landline?

I prefer to text.

MMike

Sorry, it's in my coat.

Er, here, use mine.

Oh, thank you.

MMike

This is an old friend of mine, John Watson.

Afghanistan or Iraq?

Sorry?

Which one was it? In Afghanistan or Iraq?

Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you...?

[Molly enters]

Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you. What happened to the lipstick?

Molly

It wasn't working for me.

Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now.

Molly

...Okay.

How do you feel about the violin?

I'm sorry, what?

I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometime I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.

You told him about me?

MMike

Not a word.

Then who says anything about flatmates?

I did. Told Mike this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap.

How did you know about Afghanistan?

Got my eyes on a nice little place in central London, we ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash, I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary.

Is that it?

Is that what?

We've only just met, and we're going to go and look at a flat?

Problem?

We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name.

I know you're an Army doctor, and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother worried about you, but you won't go to him for help, because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife, and I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly, I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think? The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon.

[He leaves. John glances at Mike.]

MMike

Yeah, he's always like that.

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[upon first seeing Baker Street] Well this is a prime spot. Must be expensive.

Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, is giving me a special deal. She owes me a favour. A few years back her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out.

You stopped her husband from being executed?

Oh, no. I ensured it.

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Brilliant! YES! Four serial suicides and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas! Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Put the kettle on. [Rushes out]

Mrs. Hudson

I had a husband like that once, always rushing about. But I can see you're more the sitting-down type. I'll get some tea, and you just rest your leg.

DAMN MY LEG! Sorry! I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this thing is just...

Mrs. Hudson

I understand, dearie. I've got a hip.

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You're an army doctor.

Yes.

Any good?

Very good.

Seen a lot of injuries, then? Violent deaths?

Well, yes.

Bit of trouble too, I bet.

Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much.

[beat] Want to see some more?

Oh, God, yes.

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The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!

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Did I get anything wrong?

Harry and me don't get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce. And Harry is a drinker.

Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything.

Harry's short for Harriet.

[stops walking] Harry's your sister.

What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?

[starts to stride along] Sister!

No, seriously, what am I doing here?

There's always something.

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Ah, Anderson. Here we are again.

It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated! Are we clear on that?

Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?

Oh don't pretend you worked that out! Somebody told you that!

Your deodorant told me that.

My deodorant.

It's for men.

Well of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!

So's Sergeant Donovan. [sniffs] Ooh... I think it just vaporised. May I go in?

Now look, whatever you're implying—

I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees.

[Sally looks visibly embarrassed]

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ILDetective Inspector Lestrade

Shut up.

I didn't say anyth—

You were thinking. It's annoying.

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LLestrade

Cardiff?

It's obvious, isn't it?

It's not obvious to me.

Dear God. What is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring.

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[In the doorway] She's German. "Rache," German for revenge, she could be trying to tell us—

[Interrupts, sarcastically] Yes, thank you for your input. [Shuts the door in Anderson's face]

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You don't have a girlfriend, then?

Girlfriend? No, not really my area.

Oh right then. [pause] Do you have a boyfriend? Which is fine, by the way—

I know it's fine.

So you've got a boyfriend?

No.

Right, okay. You're unattached, just like me. Fine. Good.

[After an awkward pause] John, um... I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work and while I am flattered by your interest I'm—

No—

—really not looking for anyone—

No. I'm not asking— no. I was just saying. Its all fine.

Good. Thank you.

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[about the murder victim] Her coat is slightly damp; she's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too; she's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket, but it's dry and unused: not just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance, but she can't have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff.

That's fantastic!

Do you know you do that out loud?

Sorry. I'll shut up.

No, it's... fine.

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