Sherlock

-Who are you?

-Jim Moriarty.

Bye!

-Consulting criminal.

[ Door squeaks ] -I have loved this -- this little game of ours.

-People have died.

-That's what people do!

[ Eerie music plays ] -I will stop you.

-If you don't stop prying...

I'll burn you.

I will burn [tearfully] the heart out of you.

-Catch.

you.

later.

-[ Singsong ] No, you won't!

[ Ominous music plays ] [ Door squeaks open ] Sorry, boys!

I'm so changeable.

It is a weakness with me, but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness.

You can't be allowed to continue.

You just can't.

I would try to convince you, but... everything I have to say has already crossed your mi-i-nd.

-Probably, my answer has crossed yours.

[ Suspenseful music plays ] [ The Bee Gees's "Stayin' Alive" plays ] Ah ah ah ah Stayin' alive, stayin' alive -Do you mind if I get that?

- Ah ah ah ah -Oh, no, please.

You've got the rest of your life.

Ali-i-i-- [ Cellphone clicks ] Hello.

Yes, of course it is.

What do you want?

-[ Mouths words ] -Say that again!

[ Ominous music plays ] Say that again, and know that, if you're lying to me, I will find you and I will s-s-skin you.

Wait.

Sorry.

Wrong day to die.

-Oh.

Did you get a better offer?

-You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock.

So, if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich.

If you don't, I'll make you into shoes.

[ Snaps fingers ] -[ Breathing heavily ] What happened there?

-Someone changed his mind.

The question is: Who?

[ Beep ] -Well, now, have you been [whip cracks] wicked, Your Highness?

-Yes, Miss Adler.

[ Slam ] [ Theme plays ] [ Siren wails ] -What are you typing?

-Blog.

-About?

-Us.

-You mean me.

-Why?

-[ Clears throat ] Well, you're typing a lot.

[ Doorbell rings ] Right, then.

So, what have we got?

[ Whimsical tune plays ] -My...wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office.

-Boring.

-I think my husband might be having an affair.

-Yes.

-She's not my real aunt.

She's been replaced.

I know she has.

I know human ash.

-Leave.

-We are prepared to offer any sum of money you care to mention for the recovery of these files.

-Boring.

-We have this website.

It explains the true meaning of comic books, 'cause people miss a lot of the themes.

But, then, all the comic books started coming true.

-Oh.

Interesting.

[ Whimsical tune plays ] Geek Interpreter.

What's that?

-That's the title.

-What does it need a title for?

Do people actually read your blog?

-Where do you think our clients come from?

-I have a website.

-In which you enumerate 240 different types of tobacco ash.

Nobody's reading your website.

Right, then.

Dyed blonde hair, no obvious cause of death, except for these speckles, whatever they are.

-Oh, for God's sakes.

-Hmm?

-"The Speckled Blonde"?

-They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead.

Is that 'cause he'd gone to heaven?

-People don't really go to heaven when they die.

They're taken to a special room and burned.

-Sherlock.

-There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday.

Everyone dead.

-Suspected terrorist bomb.

We do watch the news.

-You said "boring" and turned over.

-Well, according to the flight details, this man was checked in onboard.

Inside his coat, he's got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of those special biscuits.

Here's his passport, stamped in Berlin Airport.

So this man should've died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday, but instead he's in a car boot in Southwark.

-Lucky escape.

-Any ideas?

-Eight, so far.

Okay, four ideas.

[ Engine whines ] Maybe two ideas.

-No, no, no, don't mention the unsolved ones.

-People want to know you're human.

-Why?

-'Cause they're interested.

-No, they're not.

Why are they?

-Hmm, look at that.

1,895.

-Sorry, what?

-I reset that counter last night.

This blog has had nearly 2,000 hits in the last 8 hours.

This is your living, Sherlock, not 240 different types of tobacco ash.

-243.

[ Hiss ] So what's this one, Belly Button Murders?

The Navel Treatment?

-Ugh.

-There's a lot of press outside, guys.

-Well, they won't be interested in us.

-Yeah, that was before you were an Internet phenomenon.

A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you two.

-God's sake.

John.

-Hmm?

-Cover your face and walk fast.

-Oh.

-Still, it's good for the public image, big case like this!

-Private detective.

The last thing I need is a public image.

[ Theme plays ] [ Camera shutters click ] [ Romantic tune plays ] [ Creaking ] [ Beep ] -Hello.

I think it's time.

Don't you?

[ Ominous chord strikes ] -Tsk.

Ohh!

[ Gasps ] Ooh.

Oh.

Oh, dear!

Thumbs?!

[ Clunk ] [ Suspenseful music plays ] -The door was -- The door was -- [ Thud ] -Boys!

You've got another one!

Ohh!

-Tell us from the start.

Don't be boring.

[ Suspenseful music climbs ] [ Engine splutters, grinds ] -Argh!

[ Car door slams ] [ Sighs ] [ Engine sputters ] Oh.

[ Sinister music plays ] Hey!

Are you okay?

[ Melancholy tune plays ] Excuse me!

Are you all right?

[ Suspenseful music climbs ] -Sir, phone call for you.

-Carter.

-Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes?

-Who?

-Well, you're about to meet him now.

This is your case; it's entirely up to you.

This is just friendly advice, but give Sherlock 5 minutes on your crime scene and listen to everything that he has to say.

And, as far as possible, try not to punch him.

-Okay.

Sir, this gentleman says he needs to speak to you.

-Yes, I know.

Sherlock Holmes.

-John Watson.

Are you set up for Wi-Fi?

You realize this is a tiny bit humiliating.

-It's okay.

I'm fine.

Now, show me to the stream.

-I didn't really mean for you.

-Look, this is a 6.

[ Doorbell rings ] There's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a 7.

We agreed.

Now go back.

Show me the grass.

-When did we agree that?

-We agreed it yesterday.

Stop!

Closer.

-I wasn't even at home yesterday.

I was in Dublin.

-It's hardly my fault you weren't listening.

[ Doorbell rings ] Shut up!

-Do you just carry on talking when I'm away?

-I don't know.

How often are you away?

Now, show me the car that backfired.

-It's there.

That's the one that made the noise, yes?

-Yeah, if you're thinking gunshot, there wasn't one.

He wasn't shot.

He was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument, which then magically disappeared, along with the killer.

It's got to be an 8, at least.

-You've got 2 more minutes, then I want to know more about the driver.

-Oh, forget him.

He's an idiot.

Why else would he think himself a suspect?

-I think he's a suspect!

-Pass me over.

-All right, but there's a mute button, and I will use it.

-Up a bit!

I'm not talking from down here.

-Okay.

Just take it.

Take it.

-Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness, why would he then call the police and consult a detective, fair play?

-He's trying to be clever.

It's overconfidence.

-Did you see him?

Morbidly obese, the undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own.

The right sleeve of an Internet porn addict, and the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition; low self-esteem, tiny IQ, and a limited life expectancy, and you think he's an audacious [chuckle] criminal mastermind?

Don't worry.

This is just stupid.

What did you say?

Heart what?

-[ Clears throat ] [ Door closes ] -Go to the stream.

-What's in the stream?

-Go and see.

-Sherlock!

You weren't answering your doorbell!

-His room's through the back.

Get him some clothes.

-Who the hell are you?

-Sorry.

Mr. Holmes.

-Sherlock, what's going on?

-You're coming with us.

- What's happening?

[ Helicopter rotors whirr ] I-I've lost him.

I don't know what -- -Dr. Watson.

-Yeah.

-It's for you.

-Okay, thanks.

-No, sir, the helicopter.

[ Theme plays ] -Please, Mr. Holmes.

Where you're going, you'll want to be dressed.

[ Cash register chimes ] [ Telephone rings ] [ Bark ] [ Barking ] -I know exactly where I'm going.

[ Helicopter blades whirring ] [ Indistinct voice over radio ] -You wearing any pants?

-No.

-Okay.

[ Laughter ] Buckingham Palace.

Right.

[ Clears throat ] -Ha ha.

-Ah, ah, I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray.

[ Laughter ] [ Clears throat ] What are we doing here, Sherlock?

Seriously, what?

-I don't know.

-Here to see the queen?

-Oh, apparently, yes.

[ Laughter ] -Just once, can you two behave like grownups?

-We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants.

I wouldn't hold out too much hope.

-I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft.

-What, the hiker and the backfire?

I glanced at the police report.

Bit obvious, surely.

-Transparent.

-Time to move on, then.

[ Clears throat ] [ Sighs ] We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation.

Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on.

-What for?

-Your client.

-And my client is...?

-Illustrious, in the extreme.

And remaining, I have to inform you, entirely anonymous.

Mycroft!

-Harry.

May I just apologize for the state of my little brother.

-A full-time occupation, I imagine.

And this must be Dr. John Watson, formerly of the fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.

-Hello, yes.

-My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog.

-Your employer?

Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminum crutch.

-Hmm.

[ Clears throat ] -And Mr. Holmes the Younger.

You look taller in your photographs.

-I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend.

Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients.

I'm used to mystery at one end of my cases, both ends is too much work.

Good morning.

-This is a matter of national importance.

Grow up!

-Get off my sheet!

-Or what?

-Or I'll just walk away.

-I'll let you.

-Boys, please.

Not here.

-Who.

is.

my.

client?!

-Take a look at where you're standing and make a deduction.

You are to be engaged by the highest in the land.

Now, for God's sake!

Put your clothes on!

I'll be mother.

-And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.

-My employer has a problem.

A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature and, in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen.

-Why?

You have a police force, of sorts, even a marginally secret service.

Why come to me?

-People do come to you for help, don't they, Mr. Holmes?

-Not, to date, anyone with a navy.

-This is a matter of the highest security and, therefore, of trust.

-You don't trust your own secret service?

-Naturally not.

They all spy on people for money.

[ Sherlock scoffs ] -I do think we have a timetable.

-Yes, of course.

Um.

[ Clears throat ] [ Latches snap ] What do you know about this woman?

[ Tranquil tune plays ] -Nothing, whatsoever.

-Then you should be paying more attention.

[ Alert chimes ] She's been at the center of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants, separately.

-You know I don't concern myself with trivia.

Who is she?

-Irene Adler.

Professionally known as The Woman.

-Professionally?

-There are many names for what she does.

She prefers "dominatrix".

[ Beeping ] -Dominatrix.

-Don't be alarmed.

It's to do with sex.

-Sex doesn't alarm me.

-[ Scoffs ] How would you know?

She provides, shall we say, recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it.

These are all from her website.

[ Cellphone chimes ] [ Cellphone chimes ] [ Cellphone chimes ] -And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs.

-You're very quick, Mr. Holmes.

-Hardly a difficult deduction.

Photographs of whom?

-A person of significance to my employer.

We'd prefer not to say any more at this time.

-You can't tell us anything?

-I can tell you it's a young person.

A young female person.

-How many photographs?

-A considerable number, apparently.

-Do Miss Adler and this young, female person appear in these photographs together?

-Yes, they do.

-And, I assume, in a number of compromising scenarios.

-An imaginative range, we are assured.

-John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now.

-Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?

How?

-Will you take the case?

-What case?

Pay her, now, and in full.

As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, "Know when you are beaten."

-She doesn't want anything.

She got in touch.

She informed us that the photographs existed.

She indicated that she had no intention to use them, to extort either money or favor.

-Oh, a power play.

-A power play with the most powerful family in Britain.

Now, that is a dominatrix.

Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn't it?

-Sherlock.

-Hmm.

Where is she?

-In London, currently.

She's staying -- -Text me the details.

I'll be in touch by the end of the day.

Do you really think you'll have news by then?

-No, I think I'll have the photographs.

-One can only hope you're as good as you seem to think.

[ Barking, neighing ] Child: Daddy!

-I'll need some equipment, of course.

-Anything you require, I'll have it sent over.

-Can I have a box of matches?

-I'm sorry?

-Or your cigarette lighter.

Either will do.

-I don't smoke.

-No, I know you don't, but your employer does.

-We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes.

-I'm not the Commonwealth.

-And that's as modest as he gets.

Pleasure to meet you.

-Laters!

[ Theme plays ] -Okay, the smoking.

How did you know?

-The evidence was right under your nose, John.

As ever, you see, but do not observe.

-Observe what?

The ashtray.

[ Laughter ] [ Camera shutter clicks ] [ Suspenseful music plays ] [ Cellphone chimes ] [ Romantic tune plays ] -Kate.

We're going to have a visitor.

I'll need a bit of time to get ready.

-A long time?

-Hmm.

Ages.

[ Music climbs ] [ Whimsical tune plays ] -What are you doing?

-Going into battle, John.

I need the right armor!

No.

-No.

-Works for me.

-Everything works on you.

-So, what's the plan?

-We know her address.

-We just ring her doorbell?

-Exactly.

Just here, please.

-You didn't even change your clothes.

-Then it's time to add a splash of color.

[ Suspenseful music plays ] [ Whimsical tune plays ] -Are we here?

-Two streets away, but this will do.

-For what?

-Punch me in the face.

-Shade?

-Blood.

-Punch you?

-Yes, punch me, in the face.

Didn't you hear me?

-I always hear "punch me in the face" when you're speaking, but it's usually subtext.

-Oh, for God's sakes.

-Ooh!

-Oh!

-Ah!

-Thank you.

That was -- That was -- ugh!

[ Sizzle ] Okay!

I think we're done, now, John.

-You want to remember, Sherlock, I was a soldier.

I killed people.

-You were a doctor!

-I had bad days!

-Mnh!

-What are you gonna wear?

-My battle dress.

-Ooh, lucky boy.

[ Doorbell buzzes ] [ Beep ] [ Ring ] Hello.

-[ Crying ] Ooh, very sorry to disturb you, um...

I've just been attacked, um, and I think they -- they took my wallet and, um, and my phone.

Um...

Please, could you help me?

-I can phone the police, if you want?

-Thank you!

Thank you.

Could you, please?

Uh, would you -- would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come?

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

[ Buzz ] [ Crying ] Thank you.

Ooh!

-I-I saw it all happen.

It's okay.

I'm a doctor.

Now, have you got a first aid kit?

-In the kitchen.

Please.

-Oh.

Thank you.

-Thank you.

-Hello.

Sorry to hear that you've been hurt.

I don't think Kate caught your name.

-I'm so sorry.

I'm -- [ Ominous chord strikes ] -Oh, it's always hard to remember an alias when you've had a fright.

Isn't it?

There, now.

We're both defrocked.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

-Miss Adler, I presume.

-Oh, look at those cheekbones.

I could cut myself, slapping that face.

Would you like me to try?

-Right.

This should do it.

I've missed something, haven't I?

[ Whimsical tune plays ] -Please, sit down.

If you'd like some tea, I can call the maid.

-I had some at the Palace.

-I know.

-Clearly.

-I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone's interested.

-Do you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr. Holmes?

However hard you try, it's always a self-portrait.

-You think I'm a vicar with a bleeding face?

-I think you're damaged, delusional, and believe in a higher power.

In your case, it's yourself.

Hmm.

And somebody loves you.

If I had to punch that face, I'd avoid your nose and teeth, too.

-[ Laughs ] Could you put something on, please?

Uh, anything at all.

A napkin.

-Why?

Are you feeling exposed?

-I don't think John knows where to look.

-No, I think he knows exactly where.

I'm not sure about you.

-If I wanted to look at naked women, I'd borrow John's laptop.

-You do borrow my laptop.

I confiscate it.

-Oh, never mind.

We've got better things to talk about.

Now, tell me.

I need to know -- how was it done?

-What?

-The hiker with the bashed-in head.

How was he killed?

-That's not why I'm here.

-No, no, no, no.

You're here for the photographs, but that's never gonna happen, and since we're here just chatting, anyway... -That story's not been on the news, yet.

How do you know about it?

-I know one of the policemen.

Well, I know what he likes.

-Oh.

And you...like policemen?

-I like detective stories.

And detectives.

Brainy is the new sexy.

-The position of the car.

Uh, the position of the car, relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire.

That, and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head, that's all you need to know.

-Okay, tell me -- how was he murdered?

-He wasn't.

-You don't think it was murder?

-I know it wasn't.

-How?

-The same way that I know the victim was an excellent sportsman, recently returned from foreign travel, and that the photographs I'm looking for are in this room.

-Okay, but how?

-So they are in this room.

Thank you.

John, man the door.

Let no one in.

[ Door closes ] Two men, alone in the countryside, several yards apart, and one car.

-Oh, I-I thought you were looking for the photos now.

-No, no.

Looking takes ages.

I'm just going to find them, but you're moderately clever and we've got a moment, so let's pass the time.

Two men, a car, nobody else.

Driver's trying to fix his engine.

[ Suspenseful music plays ] Getting nowhere.

And the hiker's taking a moment, looking at the sky.

Watching the birds?

Any moment, now, something's gonna happen.

What?

-The hiker's going to die.

-No, that's the result.

What's going to happen?

-I don't understand.

-Oh, well, try to.

-Why?

-Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression.

Stop boring me and think.

It's the new sexy.

-The car's going to backfire.

-There's going to be a loud noise.

-So what?

-Oh, noises are important.

Noises can tell you everything.

For instance... [ Alarm beeps ] Thank you.

On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child.

Amazing, how fire exposes our priorities.

[ Beeping continues ] [ Whirring ] I really hope you don't have a baby in here.

All right, John, you can turn it off now.

I said, you can turn it off now!

-Give me a minute!

[ Beeping continues ] [ Gunshot ] [ Suspenseful music plays ] Thank you.

-Hmm.

You should always use gloves with these things, you know.

Heaviest oil deposit's always on the first key used, and that's quite clearly a 3, but after that, the sequence is almost impossible to read.

I'd say from the make that it's a 6-digit code.

Can't be your birthday.

No disrespect, but, clearly, you were born in the '80s and 8's barely used, so... -I'd tell you the code right now.

You know what?

I already have.

[ Suspenseful music climbs ] Think.

-[ U.S. accent ] Hands behind your head, on the floor, keep it still!

-Sorry, Sherlock.

-Miss Adler, on the floor.

-Don't you want me on the floor, too?

-No, sir, I want you to open the safe.

-American.

Interesting.

Why would you care?

-Sir, the safe, now, please.

-I don't know the code.

-We've been listening.

She said she told you.

-Well, if you've been listening, you'll know she didn't.

-I'm assuming I missed something.

From your reputation, I'm assuming you didn't, Mr. Holmes.

-For God's sake, she's the one who knows the code.

Ask her!

-Yes, sir, she also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm.

I've learned not to trust this woman.

-Mr. Holmes doesn't -- -Shut.

Up.

One more word out of you, just one, and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head.

That, for me, will not be a hardship.

Mr. Archer, at the count of 3, shoot Dr. Watson.

-What?

-I don't know the code.

-One.

-I don't know the code.

-Two.

-She didn't tell me.

I don't know it!

-I'm prepared to believe you, any second now.

[ Foreboding music plays ] Three.

-No, stop!

-[ Panting ] [ Suspenseful music climbs ] [ Beep, beep ] [ Beep, beep ] [ Beep, beep ] [ Beep-beep, lock clicks ] -Thank you, Mr. Holmes.

Open it, please.

-Vatican cameos.

[ Gunshot ] Do you mind?

-Not at all.

-He's dead.

-Thank you.

You were very observant.

-Observant?

-I'm flattered.

-Don't be.

-Flattered?

-There'll be more of them.

They'll be keeping an eye on the building.

-We should call the police.

-Yes.

[ Gunshots ] [ Tires screech nearby ] On their way.

-For God's sake.

-Oh, shut up.

It's quick.

Check the rest of the house.

See how they got in.

Well, that's the knighthood in the bag.

-Ah.

And that's mine.

[ Ominous chord strikes ] [ Beeping ] -All the photographs are on here, I presume.

-I have copies, of course.

-No, you don't.

You'll have permanently disabled any kind of uplink or connection.

Unless the contents of this phone are proven to be unique, you wouldn't be able to sell them.

-Who said I'm selling?

-Well, why would they be interested?

Whatever's on the phone, it's clearly not just photographs.

-That camera phone is my life, Mr. Holmes.

I'd die before I let you take it.

It's my protection.

-Sherlock!

-It was.

[ Running footsteps ] -Must've come in this way.

-Clearly.

-It's all right.

She's just out cold.

-Oh.

Well, God knows she's used to that.

There's a back door.

Better check it, Dr. Watson.

-Sure.

-You're very calm.

Well, your booby trap did just kill a man.

-He would've killed me.

It was self-defense in advance.

[ Ominous chord strikes ] -Uhh!

Uh!

What is that?

What?

-Give it to me.

Now.

Give it.

To me.

-No.

-Give it to me.

-Agh!

No.

-Oh, for goodness sake.

Drop it.

I.

Said.

Drop it.

Ah!

Thank you, dear.

Now, tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me.

They're not for blackmail, just for insurance.

Besides, I might want to see her again.

-[ Whimpering ] -Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

It's been a pleasure.

Don't spoil it.

This is how I want you to remember me -- the woman who beat you.

-[ Gasps ] -Goodnight, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

-Jesus.

What are you doing?

-He'll sleep for a few hours.

Make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit.

It makes for a very unattractive corpse.

-What's this?

What have you given him?

Sherlock?

-He'll be fine.

I've used it on loads of my friends.

-Sherlock, can you hear me?

-You know, I was wrong about him.

He did know where to look.

-For what?

What are you talking about?

-The keycode to my safe.

-Wh-What was it?

-Shall I tell him?

[ Siren wails ] My measurements.

[ Siren wails ] [ Melancholy tune plays ] -Uhhh!

[ Siren wails ] -Got it.

Oh, shh, shh!

No.

Don't get up.

I'll do the talking.

So, the car's about to backfire and the hiker -- he's staring at the sky.

Now, you said he could be watching birds, but he wasn't, was he?

He was watching another kind of flying thing.

The car backfires and the hiker turns to look.

Which was his big mistake.

By the time the driver looks up, the hiker's already dead.

What he doesn't see is what killed him, because it's already being washed downstream.

[ Whip cracks ] An accomplished sportsman recently returned from foreign travel with a boomerang.

You got that from one look?

Definitely the new sexy.

[ Melancholy tune continues ] I -- I -- [ Gasps ] -Hush, now.

It's okay.

I'm only returning your coat.

-[ Huffing ] [ Tranquil tune plays ] -[ Gasps ] John?

John!

Agh!

Oh.

[ Thud ] -You okay?

-How did I get here?

-Well, I don't suppose you remember much.

You weren't making a lot of sense.

Oh, I should warn you -- I think Lestrade filmed you on his phone.

-Where is she?

-Where's who?

-The woman, that woman.

-What woman?

-The Woman.

The Woman-woman!

-Oh, Irene Adler?

She got away.

No one saw her.

She wasn't here, Sherlock.

-Uh!

-What are you?

What?

No, no, no.

No.

Agh!

Back to bed.

Ah.

You'll be fine in the morning.

Just.

sleep.

-Of course I'll be fine.

I am fine.

I'm absolutely fine.

-Yes, you're great.

Now, I'll be next door, if you need me.

-Why would I need you?

-No reason at all.

[ Tranquil tune continues ] -Ahh!

[ Beep ] -The photographs are perfectly safe.

-In the hands of a fugitive sex worker?

-She's not interested in blackmail.

She wants...protection, for some reason.

I take it you've stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?

-How can we do anything while she has the photographs?

Our hands are tied.

-She'd applaud your choice of words.

You see how this works -- the camera phone is her "get out of jail free" card.

You have to leave her alone.

Treat her like royalty, Mycroft.

-Though, not the way she treats royalty.

-Ahh!

-What was that?

-Text.

-But what was that noise?

-Did you know there were other people after her, too, Mycroft, before you sent John and I in there?

CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess.

-Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft.

-It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that.

Family is all we have, in the end, Mycroft Holmes.

-Oh, shut up, Mrs. Hudson.

-Mycroft!

-Oi!

[ Metal jingles, floor creaks ] -Apologies.

-Thank you.

-Though, do, in fact, shut up.

-Ahh!

-Ooh, it's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?

[ Beep ] -There's nothing you can do and nothing she will do, as far as I can see.

-I can put maximum surveillance on her.

-Why bother?

You can follow her on Twitter.

I believe her username is TheWhipHand.

-Mnh.

-Yes.

[ Cellphone rings ] Most amusing.

Excuse me.

[ Beep ] Hello.

-Why does your phone make that noise?

-What noise?

-That noise, the one it just made.

-It's a text alert.

It means I've got a text.

-Hmm.

Your texts don't usually make that noise.

-Well, somebody got ahold of the phone and, apparently, as a joke, personalized their text-alert noise.

-Hmm, so, every time they text you...?

-Ahh!

-It would seem so.

-Could you turn that phone down a bit?

At my time of life, it's -- -[ Clears throat ] -See, I'm wondering who could've got hold of your phone because it would've been in your coat, wouldn't it?

-I'll leave you to your deductions.

-[ Sniffs ] I'm not stupid, you know.

-Where do you get that idea?

-Bond Air is go.

That's decided.

Check with the Coventry lot.

Talk later.

[ Beep ] -What else does she have?

Irene Adler.

The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs.

There's more.

Much more.

Something big's coming, isn't it?

-Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours.

From now on, you will stay out of this.

-Oh, will I?

-Yes, Sherlock.

You will.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend.

-Do give her my love.

[ Playing "God Save the Queen" ] [ Playing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" ] -[ Wolf whistle ] -Lovely, Sherlock!

That was lovely.

-Hmm, marvelous.

Very good.

-[ Laughs ] I wish you could've worn the antlers.

-Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs. Hudson.

-Mrs. H. -No, thank you, Sarah.

-No, no, no, no, no.

He's not good with names.

-No, no, no, I can get this.

No.

Sarah was the doctor, and then there was the one with the spots, and then, the one with the nose, and then, who was after the boring teacher?

-Nobody.

-Jeanette!

Ah, process of elimination.

Oh, dear Lord.

-Hello, everyone.

Sorry, hello.

It said on the door just to come up.

-Hello, Molly.

-Everybody saying hello to each other -- how wonderful.

-[ Laughs ] -Let me, uh -- Holy Mary.

-Ooh.

-Wow.

-So, we're having our Christmas drinkies, then?

-No stopping them, apparently.

-It's the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it's almost worth it.

-Yeah.

Have a seat.

-John.

-Hmm?

-The counter on your blog.

-Molly, want a drink?

-It still says 1,895.

-Oh, no!

Christmas is canceled!

-You got a photograph of me wearing that hat?

-People like the hat.

-No, they don't.

What people?

-How's the hip?

-Oh, it's atrocious, but thanks for asking.

-I've seen much worse, but then, I do postmortems.

[ Laughs ] Oh, God, sorry.

-Don't make jokes, Molly.

-No, sorry.

-Here you are.

-Thank you.

I wasn't expecting to see you.

I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas.

-First thing in the morning, me and the wife.

We're back together.

It's all sorted.

-No, she's sleeping with the PE teacher.

-[ Laughs ] And, John, -Hmm?

-I hear you're off to your sister's.

Is that right?

-Yeah.

-Sherlock was complaining.

Saying.

-First time, ever, she's cleaned up her act.

She's off the booze.

Nope!

-Shut up, Sherlock.

-I see you've got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you're serious about him.

-[ Laughs ] What?

Sorry, what?

-And you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift.

-Take a day off.

-Shut up and have a drink.

-Oh, come on.

Surely, you've all seen the present at the top of the bag... -[ Chuckles ] -...perfectly wrapped with a bow.

All the others are slapdash, at best.

It's for someone special, then.

The shade of red echoes her lipstick -- wither an unconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to encourage.

Either way, Miss Hooper has love on her mind.

The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving him a gift at all.

That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn, and that she's seeing him tonight is evident from her makeup and what she's wearing.

Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts... [ Sparkle! ]

[ Melancholy tune plays ] -[ Crying ] You always say such horrible things.

Every time.

Always.

Always.

-I am sorry.

Forgive me.

Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.

-Ahh!

-Oh, no!

That wasn't!

I-I didn't -- -No, it was me.

-My God, really?

-What?

-My phone.

-57?

-Sorry, what?

-57 of those texts, the ones I've heard.

-Thrilling that you've been counting.

[ Sizzle ] Excuse me.

-Wh-What's up, Sherlock?

-I said excuse me.

-Do you ever reply?

[ Cellphone rings ] -Oh, dear Lord, we're not gonna have Christmas phone calls, now, are we?

Have they passed a new law?

-I think you're going to find Irene Adler tonight.

-We already know where she is.

As you were kind enough to point out, it hardly matters.

-No, I mean you're going to find her dead.

[ Beep ] -You okay?

-Yes.

[ Melancholy tune plays ] [ Heartbeat ] -The only one who fitted the description.

Had her brought here, your home from home.

-You didn't need to come in, Molly.

-That's okay.

Everyone else is busy with... Christmas.

Uh, the face is a bit sort of bashed-up, so, i-it might be a bit difficult.

-That's her, isn't it?

-Show me the rest of her.

That's her.

-Thank you, Miss Hooper.

-Who is she?

How did Sherlock recognize her from... not her face?

[ Heartbeat ] [ Clunking ] -Just the one.

-Why?

-Merry Christmas.

-Smoking indoors.

Isn't there one of those -- one of those law things?

-We're in a morgue.

There's only so much damage you can do.

How did you know she was dead?

-She had an item in her possession, one she said her life depended on, and she chose to give it up.

[ Sobbing nearby ] -Where is this item now?

[ Sobbing continues ] -Look at them.

They all care so much.

Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us?

-All lives end.

All hearts are broken.

Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.

-[ Exhales ] This is low-tar.

-Well, you barely knew her.

[ Heartbeat ] -Huh.

Merry Christmas, Mycroft.

-And a Happy New Year.

[ Beep, beep ] He's on his way.

Have you found anything?

-No.

Did he take the cigarette?

-Yes.

-He's coming.

10 minutes.

-There's nothing in the bedroom.

-Looks like he's clean.

We've tried all the usual places.

Are you sure tonight's a danger night?

-No, but, then, I never am.

You have to stay with him, John.

-I've got plans.

-No.

[ Beep ] -Mycroft.

[ Dial tone ] [ Beep ] I'm really sorry.

-You know my friends are so wrong about you.

-Hmm?

-You're a great boyfriend.

-Okay, that's good.

I mean, I always thought I was great.

-Sherlock Holmes is a very lucky man.

-Ahhh.

Jeanette, please.

-No, I mean it.

It's heartwarming.

You'll do anything for him.

And he can't even tell your girlfriends apart.

-No, no.

I'll do anything for you.

Just tell me what it is I'm not doing.

Tell me.

-Don't make me compete with Sherlock Holmes.

-I'll walk your dog for you.

I-I've said it now.

I'll even walk your dog.

-I don't have a dog!

-No, because that was the last one.

Okay.

-Jesus!

-I'll call you.

-No!

-Okay.

-That really wasn't very good, was it?

-Oh, hi.

[ Heartbeat ] You okay?

-Hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time.

[ Door closes ] -[ Sighs ] [ Violin plays ] -Lovely tune, Sherlock.

Haven't heard that one before.

-[ Clears throat ] Composing?

-Helps me to think.

[ Plates clink in background ] -What are you thinking about?

-The count on your blog is still stuck at 1,895.

-Yes.

Faulty.

Can't seem to fix it.

-Faulty, or you've been hacked and it's a message.

[ Beeping ] -Hmm?

[ Buzz ] -Just faulty.

-Right.

Right.

Well, I'm going out for a bit.

Listen, has he ever had any kind of girlfriend, boyfriend, a relationship, ever?

-I don't know.

-How can we not know?

-He's Sherlock.

How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?

[ Both chuckle ] -Right.

See ya.

[ Suspenseful music plays ] -John?

-Yeah.

Hello.

Hello.

-So, any plans for New Year tonight?

-Um, uh, nothing fixed.

Nothing I couldn't heartlessly abandon.

You have any ideas?

-One.

-You know, Mycroft could just phone me, if he didn't have this bloody, stupid power complex.

[ Suspenseful music climbs ] [ Tracker beeps ] [ Tracker continues beeping ] Couldn't we just go to a caf?

Sherlock doesn't follow me everywhere.

-Through there.

He's on his way.

You were right.

He thinks it's Mycroft.

-He's writing sad music.

Doesn't eat.

Barely talks.

Only to correct the television.

I'd say he was heartbroken, but, uh, well, he's Sherlock.

He does all that, anyway.

-Hello, Dr. Watson.

[ Tranquil tune plays ] -Tell him you're alive.

-He'd come after me.

-I'll come after ya, if you don't.

-Hmm, I believe you.

-You were dead on a slab.

It was definitely you.

-DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep.

-And I'll bet you know the recordkeeper.

-I know what he likes, and I needed to disappear.

-Then how come I can see you?

And I don't even want to?

-[ Scoffs ] Look, I made a mistake.

I sent something to Sherlock for safekeeping and now I need it back, so I need your help.

-No.

-It's for his own safety.

-So is this.

Tell him you're alive.

-I can't.

-Fine, I'll tell him, and I still won't help you.

-What do I say?

-What do you normally say?!

You've texted him a lot!

-Just the usual stuff.

-There is no usual, in this case.

-"Good morning.

[ Chuckles ] I like your funny hat.

I'm sad tonight.

Let's have dinner.

Hmm, you look sexy on 'Crimewatch.'

Let's have dinner.

I'm not hungry.

Let's have dinner."

-You... flirted with Sherlock Holmes?

-At him.

He never replies.

-No, Sherlock always replies, to everything.

He's Mr. Punchline.

He will outlive God, trying to have the last word.

-Does that make me special?

-I don't know.

Maybe.

-Are you jealous?

-We're not a couple.

-Yes, you are.

There.

"I'm not dead.

Let's have dinner."

[ Beep ] -Wh-Who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes?

But, for the record, if anyone out there still cares, I'm not actually gay.

-Well, I am.

Look at us both.

-[ Chuckles ] -Ahh!

[ Beep ] [ Melancholy tune plays ] -I don't think so.

Do you?

[ Ominous music climbs ] [ Echoing, distorted whine ] [ Eerie-suspenseful music plays ] -Anh!

Oh, no!

[ Suspenseful music climbs ] Please.

Just stop it!

[ Echoing ] Sherlock!

[ Ominous music climbs ] [ Sobbing ] Oh, Sherlock.

Sherlock.

-Don't snivel, Mrs. Hudson.

-[ Sniffles ] -It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet.

-[ Crying ] What a tender world that would be.

-Oh, please, help me, Sherlock.

-I believe you have something that we want, Mr. Holmes.

-Then why don't you ask for it?

-[ Sobbing ] -I've been asking this one.

She doesn't seem to know anything.

But you know what I'm asking for, don't you, Mr. Holmes?

[ Sinister music plays ] [ Beeping ] -I believe I do.

-Oh, please, Sherlock.

[ Continues sobbing ] -First, get rid of your boys.

-Why?

-I dislike being outnumbered.

It makes for too much stupid in the room.

-Oh, dear.

-You two, go to the car.

-Then, get into the car and drive away.

Don't try to trick me.

You know who I am.

It doesn't work.

Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me.

-So you can point a gun at me?

-I'm unarmed.

-Mind if I check?

-Oh, I insist.

-Agh!

Ah!

-Moron.

-Oh, thank you.

-You're all right now.

You're all right.

-Yes.

Oh!

[ Theme plays ] -What's going on?

Jeez, what the hell is happening?

-Mrs. Hudson's been attacked by an American.

I'm restoring balance to the universe.

-Oh, Mrs. Hudson.

My God.

Are you all right?

Jesus, what have they done to you?

-Oh, I'm just being so silly!

-Ah.

-Downstairs.

Take her downstairs and look after her.

-[ Sobbing ] -It's all right now.

It's all right now.

I'll have a look at that.

-I'm fine.

I'm fine.

-Are you gonna tell me what's going on?

-I expect so.

Now go.

Lestrade?

We've had a break-in at Baker Street.

Send your least-irritating officers and an ambulance.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

We're fine.

No, it's the, uh -- It's the burglar.

He's got himself rather badly injured.

Oh, a few broken ribs, fractured skull, suspected punctured lung.

[ Heartbeat ] He fell out of a window.

[ Beep ] -Oh, it stings.

[ Thud, clatter ] Oh, that was right on my bins.

-Ohhhhh!

[ Siren chirps, wails ] -And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?

-It's all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector.

I lost count.

[ Police radio chatter ] [ Siren wails ] -She'll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight.

We need to look after her.

-No.

-She's fine.

-No, she's not.

Look at her.

She's gonna take some time away from Baker Street.

She can go and stay with her sister.

Doctor's orders.

-Don't be absurd.

-She's in shock, for God's sake, and all over some bloody, stupid camera phone.

Where is it, anyway?

-Safest place I know.

-You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot.

[ Chuckles ] I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry.

Oh.

-Thank you.

Shame on you, John Watson.

-Shame on me?

-Mrs. Hudson, leave Baker Street?

England would fall.

-Oh.

[ Chuckles ] -Where is it now?

-Where no one will look.

-Whatever's on that phone is more than just pictures.

-Yes, it is.

[ Plucks string ] -So, she's alive, then.

How are we feeling about that?

[ Big Ben tolls ] -Happy New Year, John.

-Do you think you'll be seeing her again?

-[ Playing "Auld Lang Syne" ] [ Big Ben continues tolling ] [ Cellphone chimes ] [ Suspenseful music climbs ] -Is that a phone?

-It's a camera phone.

-And you're X-raying it?

-Yes, I am.

-Whose phone is it?

-A woman's.

-Your girlfriend?

-You think she's my girlfriend because I'm X-raying her possessions?

-Well, we all do silly things.

-Yes.

They do, don't they?

Very silly.

She sent this to my address.

[ Beeping ] And she loves to play games.

-She does?

[ Buzz ] [ Melancholy tune plays ] -[ Sniffing ] [ Thud ] [ Sniffing ] [ Door closes ] [ Thudding ] [ Heartbeat ] -Hey, Sherlock.

-We have a client.

-What, in your bedroom?

[ Sniffs ] Ohhh.

[ Suspenseful music plays ] -So, who's after you?

-People who want to kill me.

-Who's that?

-Killers?

-It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific.

-So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them?

-It worked for a while.

-Except you let John know that you're alive and, therefore, me.

-I knew you'd keep my secret.

-You couldn't?

-But you did, didn't you?

Where's my camera phone?

-It's not here.

We're not stupid.

-Then what have you done with it?

If they've guessed you've got it, they'll be watching you.

-If they've been watching me, they'll know that I took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few months ago.

-I need it.

-Well, we can't just go and get it, can we?

Molly Hooper.

She could collect it, take it to Bart's?

Then one of your homeless network could bring it here, leave it in the caf, and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back.

-Very good, John.

Excellent plan, full of intelligent precautions.

-Thank you.

So, why don't I ph-- -So, what do you keep on here?

In general, I mean.

-Pictures, information, anything I might find useful.

-For blackmail?

-For protection.

I make my way in the world.

I misbehave.

I like to know people will be on my side exactly when I need them to be.

-So how do you acquire this information?

-I told you.

I misbehave.

-But you've acquired something that's more danger than protection.

Do you know what it is?

-Yes.

But I don't understand it.

-I assumed.

Show me.

The passcode.

[ Processing, beeping ] [ Buzz ] -It's not working.

-No, because it's a duplicate that I had made, into which you've just entered the numbers 1058.

I assumed you'd choose something more specific than that, but, um, thanks, anyway.

[ Beeping ] [ Buzz ] [ Heartbeat ] -I told you that camera phone was my life.

I know when it's in my hand.

-Oh, you're rather good.

-You're not so bad.

-Hamish!

John Hamish Watson.

Just if you're looking for baby names.

-There was a man, an MOD official, and I knew what he liked.

One of the things he liked was showing off.

He told me this e-mail was going to save the world.

He didn't know it, but I photographed it.

He was a bit tied up at the time.

It's a bit small on that screen.

Can you read it?

-Yes.

-Code, obviously.

I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it, though he was mostly upside down, as I recall.

Couldn't figure it out.

[ Suspenseful music plays ] What can you do, Mr. Holmes?

Go on, impress a girl.

[ Powerdown ] [ Processing ] [ Clacking ] [ Chiming ] [ Beeping ] -There's a margin for error, but I'm pretty sure there's a 747 leaving Heathrow tomorrow at 6:30 in the evening for Baltimore.

Apparently, it's going to save the world.

I'm not sure how that can be true, but give me a moment.

I've only been on the case for 8 seconds.

[ Heartbeat ] [ Suspenseful music plays ] Oh, come on, it's not code.

These are seat allocations on a passenger jet.

Look, there's no letter "I" because it can be mistaken for a 1.

No letters past "K." The width of the plane is the limit.

The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence, but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place, families and couples sitting together.

Only a Jumbo's wide enough to need a letter "K" or rows past 55, which is why there's always an upstairs.

There's a row 13, which eliminates the more superstitious airlines.

Then, there's the style of the flight number, zero, zero, seven -- that eliminates a few more.

And, assuming a British point of origin, which would be logical, considering the original source of the information, and assuming, from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the 6:30 to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow Airport.

[ Heartbeat ] Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing.

John's expressed that thought in every possible variant available to the English language.

-I would have you right here, on this desk, until you begged for mercy, twice.

-John, please, can you check those flight schedules, see if I'm right?

-Uh -- uh -- I'm on it, yeah.

[ Clears throat ] -I've never begged for mercy in my life.

-Twice.

-Uh, yeah, you're right, Flight Double-O Seven.

-What did you say?

-You're right.

-No, no, no, no.

After that.

What did you say after that?

-Double-O Seven.

Flight 007.

-007.

007.

007.

007.

Something, something.

007.

007.

What?

007.

007.

[ Beeping ] [ Suspenseful music climbs ] 007.

007 what?

What?

Something.

What?

-Bond Air is go.

Bond Air is go.

Bond Air is go.

[ Beeping ] Bond Air is go.

Bond Air is go.

[ Beeping ] -[ Blows raspberry ] [ Siren wails, beep ] [ Ominous chords strike ] [ Beep ] [ Ominous music plays ] [ Melancholy tune plays ] -Bond Air is go.

That's decided.

Check with the Coventry lot.

-Coventry.

-I've never been.

Is it nice?

-Where's John?

-He went out, a couple of hours ago.

-I was just talking to him.

-He said you do that.

What's Coventry got to do with anything?

-It's a story.

Probably not true.

In the Second World War, the Allies knew that Coventry was gonna get bombed because they'd broken the German code, but didn't want the Germans to know that they'd broken the code, so they let it happen anyway.

-Have you ever had anyone?

-Sorry?

-And when I say "had," I'm being indelicate.

-I don't understand.

-I'll be delicate, then.

Let's have dinner.

-Why?

-You might be hungry.

-I'm not.

-Good.

-Why would I want to have dinner if I wasn't hungry?

-Ah, Mr. Holmes, if it was the end of the world, if this was the very last night, would you have dinner with me?

-Sherlock!

-Too late.

-That's not the end of the world.

That's Mrs. Hudson.

-Sherlock, this man was at the door.

Is the bell still not working?

He shot it.

-Have you come to take me away again?

-Yes, Mr. Holmes.

-Well, I decline.

-I don't think you do.

[ Siren wails nearby ] -There's gonna be a bomb on a passenger jet.

The British and American governments know about it, but, rather than expose the source of their information, they're going to let it happen.

The plane will blow up.

Coventry, all over again.

The wheel turns.

Nothing is ever new.

[ Suspenseful music plays ] Well, you're looking all better.

How ya feelin'?

-Like putting a bullet in your brain, sir.

-[ Scoffs ] -They'd pin a medal on me, if I did.

Sir.

[ Sinister music plays ] -The Coventry Conundrum.

[ Rattle ] What do you think of my solution?

The flight of the dead.

-Plane blows up midair, mission accomplished for the terrorists, hundreds of casualties, but nobody dies.

-Neat, don't you think?

You've been stumbling around the fringes of this one for ages.

Or were you too bored to notice the pattern?

-They wouldn't let us see Granddad when he was dead.

-She's not my real aunt.

I know human ash.

-We ran a similar project with the Germans a while back, though I believe one of our passengers didn't make the flight.

But that's the deceased, for you -- late, in every sense of the word.

-How's the plane going to fly?

Oh, of course - unmanned aircraft.

Hardly new.

-It doesn't fly.

It will never fly.

This entire project is canceled.

The terrorist cells have been informed that we know about the bomb.

We can't fool them now.

We've lost everything.

One fragment of one e-mail, and months and years of planning -- finished.

-Your MOD man.

-That's all it takes -- one lonely, naive man, desperate to show off, and a woman clever enough to make him feel special.

-Hm.

You should screen your Defence people more carefully.

-I'm not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock.

I'm talking about you!

[ Thump ] The damsel in distress.

In the end, are you really so obvious?

Because this was textbook.

The promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of redemption.

Then, give him a puzzle and watch him dance.

-Don't be absurd.

-Absurd?

How quickly did you decipher that e-mail for her?

Was it the full minute, or were you really eager to impress?

-I think it was less than 5 seconds.

-I drove you into her path.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know.

-Mr. Holmes, I think we need to talk.

-So do I.

There are a number of aspects I'm still not quite clear on.

-Not you, Junior.

You're done now.

There's more, loads more.

On this phone, I've got secrets and pictures and scandals that could topple your whole world.

You have no idea how much havoc I can cause, and exactly one way to stop me.

Unless you want to tell your masters that your biggest security leak is your own little brother.

[ Heartbeat ] -We have people who can get into this.

-I tested that theory for you.

I let Sherlock Holmes try it for 6 months.

Sherlock, dear, tell him what you found when you X-rayed my camera phone.

-There are 4 additional units wired inside the casing, I suspect containing acid or a small amount of explosive.

Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive.

-Explosive.

It's more me.

-Some data is always recoverable.

-Take that risk.

-You have a passcode to open this.

I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you.

-Sherlock.

-There will be two passcodes -- one to open the phone, one to burn the drive.

Even under duress, you can't know which one she's given you and there will be no point in a second attempt.

-He's good, isn't he?

I should have him on a leash.

In fact, I might.

-We destroy this, then.

No one has the information.

-Fine, good idea.

Unless there are lives of British citizens depending on the information you're about to burn.

-Are there?

-Telling you would be playing fair.

I'm not playing anymore.

A list of my requests, and some ideas about my protection once they're granted.

I'd say it wouldn't blow much of a hole in the wealth of the nation, but, then, I'd be lying.

I imagine you'd like to sleep on it.

-Thank you, yes.

-Too bad.

-[ Scoffs ] -Off you pop and talk to people.

-[ Sighs ] You've been very... thorough.

I wish our lot were half as good as you.

-I can't take all the credit.

Had a bit of help.

Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love.

-Yes, he's been in touch.

Seems desperate for my attention, which I'm sure can be arranged.

-I had all this stuff, never knew what to do with it.

Thank God for the consultant criminal.

Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys.

Do you know what he calls you?

The Iceman... and the Virgin.

Didn't even ask for anything.

I think he just likes to cause trouble.

Now, that's my kind of man.

-And here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees.

Nicely played.

-No.

-Sorry?

[ Heartbeat ] -I said no.

Very, very close, but no.

You got carried away.

The game was too elaborate.

You're enjoying yourself too much.

-No such thing as too much.

-Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine.

Craving the distraction of the game, I sympathize entirely.

But sentiment?

Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.

-Sentiment?

What are you talking about?

-You.

-Oh, dear God.

Look at the poor man.

You don't actually think I was interested in you?

Why?

Because you're the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?

-No.

[ Quickened heartbeat ] Because I took your pulse.

Elevated.

Your pupils, dilated.

[ Melancholy-romantic music plays ] I imagine John Watson thinks love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very destructive.

When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait.

How true of you.

The combination to your safe -- your measurements.

But this, this is far more intimate, [ Beeping ] This is your heart, and you should never let it rule your head.

You could've chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you worked for.

But you just couldn't resist it, could you?

I've always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage.

[ Beep ] Thank you for the final proof.

-Everything I said, it's not real.

I was just playing the game.

-I know.

[ Beep ] And this is just losing.

[ Music climbs ] There you are, brother.

[ Beeping ] Hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight.

-I'm certain they will.

-If you're feeling kind, lock her up.

Otherwise, let her go.

I doubt she'll survive long without her protection.

-Are you expecting me to beg?

-Yes.

-[ Crying ] Please.

You're right.

I won't even last 6 months.

-Sorry about dinner.

[ Door opens ] [ Door closes ] -You don't smoke.

-I also don't frequent cafes.

-This the file on Irene Adler?

-Closed forever.

I am about to go and inform my brother -- or, if you prefer, you are -- that she somehow got herself into a witness protection scheme in America.

New name, new identity.

She will survive and thrive.

But he will never see her again.

-Why would he care?

He despised her at the end.

Won't even mention her by name, just "The Woman."

-Is that loathing, or a salute?

One of a kind, the one woman who matters.

-He's not like that.

He doesn't feel things that way, I don't think.

-My brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective.

What might we deduce about his heart?

-I don't know.

-Neither do I.

But, initially, he wanted to be a pirate.

-He'll be okay with this -- witness protection, never seeing her again.

He'll be fine.

-I agree.

That's why I decided to tell him that.

-Instead of what?

-She's dead.

She was captured by a terrorist cell in Karachi 2 months ago and beheaded.

-[ Clears throat ] It was definitely her?

She's done this before.

-I was thorough this time.

It would take Sherlock Holmes to fool me, and I don't think he was on hand.

Do you?

So... ...what shall we tell Sherlock?

[ Footsteps approaching ] -Clearly, you've got news.

If it's about the Leeds triple murder, it was the gardener.

Did nobody notice the earring?

-Hi.

Uh, no, it's, um, it's about Irene Adler.

-Oh?

Something happened?

Has she come back?

-No, no, she's, uh -- I just bumped into Mycroft downstairs.

He had to take a call.

-Is she back in London?

-No.

She's, uh -- [ Prolonged inhale ] She's in America.

-America?

-Mm-hmm.

Got herself on a witness protection scheme, apparently.

Don't know how she swung it, but, uh, well, you know.

-I know what?

-Well, you won't be able to see her again.

-Why would I want to see her again?

-Didn't say you did.

-Is that her file?

-Yes, I was gonna take it back to Mycroft.

Do you want to...?

-No.

-Hm.

Listen, actually -- -But I will have the camera phone, though.

-There's nothing on it anymore.

It's been stripped.

-I know, but I -- I'll still have it.

-I've got to give this back to Mycroft.

You can't keep it.

Sherlock, I have to give this to Mycroft.

It's the government's now.

I couldn't even give it -- -Please.

-Thank you.

-Well, I'd better take this back.

-Yes.

-Did she ever text you again, after...all that?

-Once, a few months ago.

-What'd she say?

-"Goodbye, Mr.

Holmes."

-Oh.

[ Melancholy tune plays ] [ Beep ] [ Music climbs ] [ Static crackles ] [ Shouting in local language ] [ Beeping ] [ Beep ] -Ahh!

[ Bright tune plays ] -When I say run, run.

[ Romantic music swells ] [ Chuckles ] [ Laughs ] The Woman.

[ Melancholy tune plays ] The Woman.

JOHN: Did you see the devil that night?

Yes.

SHERLOCK: What did you see?

HENRY: They were the footprints of a gigantic hound!

I'll take the case.

What's that?

That's Baskerville.

SHERLOCK: It's not true, is it?

There is something out there.

(howling) SHERLOCK: I saw it.

JOHN: What?

SHERLOCK: A gigantic hound!

Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable... (hound growling) ...must be true.

(animal pounds, Henry yells) ANNOUNCER: Visit our website for videos, newsletters, podcasts, and more.

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