All language subtitles for Sherlock S02-E03.srt - eng(2)

Why today?

Do you want to hear me say it?

Eighteen months
since our last appointment.

You read the papers?

- Sometimes.
- And you watch telly?

You know why I'm here.

I'm here because...

What happened, John?

Sher...

You need to get it out.

My best friend, Sherlock,

is dead.

Falls of the Reichenbach.

Turner's masterpiece,

thankfully recovered
owing to the prodigious talent

of Mr Sherlock Holmes.

A small token of our gratitude.

Diamond cufflinks.
All my cuffs have buttons.

- He means "thank you".
- Do I?

- Just say it.
- Thank you.

Ah...

Back together with my family,

after my terrifying ordeal.

And we have one person to thank
for my deliverance,

Sherlock Holmes.

- Tie pin. I don't wear ties.
- Shh.

Peter Ricoletti.

Number one on Interpol's
most wanted list since 1982.

But we got him.

And there's one person we have to thank
for giving us the decisive leads,

with all his customary
diplomacy and tact.

- Sarcasm.
- Yes.

We all chipped in.

- Oh!
- Put the hat on!

Yeah, Sherlock. Put it on.

Just get it over with.

"Boffin"? Boffin Sherlock Holmes.

- Everybody gets one.
- One what?

Tabloid nickname.

SuBo, Nasty Nick.

Shouldn't worry.
I'll probably get one soon.

Page five, column six, first sentence.

- Why is it always the hat photograph?
- "Bachelor John Watson."

- What kind of hat is it, anyway?
- Bachelor?

What the hell are they implying?

- Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?
- It's a deerstalker.

"...frequently seen in the company
of bachelor John Watson."

How do you stalk a deer with a hat?
What am I going to do, throw it?

- "Confirmed bachelor John Watson."
- Is it like some sort of death Frisbee?

Okay, this is too much.
We need to be more careful.

It's got flaps.
Ear flaps, it's an ear hat, John.

What do you mean, more careful?

I mean, this isn't a deerstalker now.
It's a Sherlock Holmes hat.

I mean that you're not exactly
a private detective any more.

- You're this far from famous.
- Oh, it'll pass.

It better pass. The press will turn,
Sherlock. They always turn.

And they'll turn on you.

- It really bothers you.
- What?

- What people say.
- Yes.

About me. I don't understand.
Why would it upset you?

Just try to keep a low profile.

Find yourself a little case this week.

Stay out of the news.

- That's your phone.
- Mmm, keeps doing that.

So, did you just talk to him
for a really long time?

Oh. Henry Fishguard
never committed suicide.

Bow Street Runners missed everything!

Pressing case, is it?

They're all pressing
till they're solved.

Put your key in there, please.

Excuse me, sir.

Any metal objects? Keys, mobile phones?

- Go through.
- Thank you.

- Fancy a cuppa, then, mate?
- Yeah, why not?

Gilts at seven.
Dutch Telecoms in freefall.

Thank you, Harvey.

What do you say? Refuse them all
parole and bring back the rope?

Let's begin.

This is an emergency. Please leave...

Sir, I'm going to have to ask you
to leave.

- Sir, there's been a break-in.
- Not our division.

You'll want it.

The vault!

Hacked into the Tower
of bloody London's security? How?

Tell them we're already on our way.

There's been another one.
Another break-in.

Bank of England!

Sir, security's down, sir.
It's failing.

- Where is it now?
- Pentonville Prison.

Oh, no!

No rush.

I'll get it, shall I?

- Here.
- Not now, I'm busy.

- Sherlock.
- Not now.

He's back.

That glass
is tougher than anything.

Not tougher
than crystallised carbon.

He used a diamond.

- Ready?
- Yes.

Let them through.

Thank you. I've got it.

- Remember...
- Yes.

- Remember...
- Yes.

Remember what they told you.

- Don't try to be clever...
- No.

And please, just keep it
simple and brief.

God forbid the star witness in the trial
should come across as intelligent.

Intelligent, fine.
Let's give smartarse a wide berth.

- I'll just be myself.
- Are you listening to me?

- So today, standing outside...
- Is this the trial of the century...

The trial of James Moriarty...

James Moriarty, early today
accused of attempting...

...of attempting to steal
the Crown Jewels.

At the Old Bailey we have
Reichenbach hero Sherlock Holmes...

Would you mind slipping your hand
into my pocket?

Thanks.

Crown versus Moriarty,
please proceed to Court 10.

You're him.

Wrong toilet.

- I'm a big fan.
- Evidently.

I read your cases. Follow them all.

Sign my shirt, would you?

- There are two types of fans.
- Oh?

- Catch me before I kill again, type A.
- Uh-huh.

- What's type B?
- Your bedroom's just a taxi ride away.

Hmm.

Guess which one I am?

- Neither.
- Really?

No, you're not a fan at all.

Those marks on your forearm.
Edge of a desk.

You've been typing in a hurry, probably.
Pressure on, facing a deadline.

- That all?
- There's a smudge of ink on your wrist

and the bulge
in your left jacket pocket.

Bit of a giveaway?

The smudge is deliberate. It's to see
if I'm as good as they say I am.

Hmm. Oil-based.
Used in newspaper print.

But drawn on with an index finger.

Your finger. Journalist.

Unlikely you get your hands dirty
at the press.

You put that there to test me.

- Wow! I'm liking you.
- You mean I'd make a great feature.

"Sherlock Holmes,
the man beneath the hat."

Kitty. Riley.

- Pleased to meet you.
- No.

I'm just saving you
the trouble of asking.

No, I won't give you an interview.
No, I don't want the money.

You and John Watson. Just platonic?

Can I put you down for a no there
as well?

There's all sorts of gossip
in the press about you.

Sooner or later, you're going to need
someone on your side.

Someone to set the record straight.

You think you're the girl
for that job, do you?

I'm smart. And you can trust me.

Totally.

Smart? Okay. Investigative journalist.

Good. Well, look at me
and tell me what you see.

If you're that skilful,
you don't need an interview,

you can just read what you need.

No? Okay, my turn.

I look at you and I see someone who's
still waiting for their first big scoop

so that their editor will notice them.

You're wearing an expensive skirt
that has been re-hemmed twice.

The only posh skirt you've got.

And your nails, you can't afford
to do them that often.

I see someone who's hungry.
I don't see smart.

And I definitely don't see trustworthy,

but I'll give you a quote, if you like.
Three little words.

You repel me.

- A consulting criminal.
- Yes.

Your words.
Can you expand on that answer?

James Moriarty is for hire.

- A tradesman?
- Yes.

But not the sort
who'd fix your heating?

No, the sort who'd plant
a bomb or stage an assassination,

but I'm sure he'd make a pretty
decent job of your boiler.

Would you describe him as...

- Leading.
- What?

Can't do that.
You're leading the witness.

He'll object and the judge will uphold.

Mr Holmes!

Ask me how. How would I describe him?

What opinion have I formed of him?
Did they not teach you this?

Mr Holmes,
we're fine without your help.

How would you describe
this man, his character?

First mistake,

James Moriarty isn't a man at all.

He's a spider.

A spider at the centre of a web.

A criminal web with a thousand threads

and he knows precisely how each
and every single one of them dances.

And how long...

No, no, don't... Don't do that.
That's really not a good question.

- Mr Holmes!
- How long have I known him?

Not really your best line of enquiry.

We met twice, five minutes in total.

I pulled a gun. He tried to blow me up.

I felt we had a special something.

Miss Sorrel, are you seriously
claiming this man is an expert?

After knowing the accused
for just five minutes?

Two minutes would have made me
an expert. Five was ample.

Mr Holmes, that's a matter for the jury.

Oh, really?

One librarian, two teachers,

two high-pressure jobs,
probably the City.

Foreman's a medical secretary,

trained abroad,
judging by her short hair.

- Mr Holmes...
- Seven are married

and two are having an affair
with each other, it would seem.

Oh, and they've just had
tea and biscuits.

Would you like to know
who ate the wafer?

Mr Holmes!

You've been called here to answer
Miss Sorrel's questions,

not to give us a display
of your intellectual prowess.

Keep your answers brief
and to the point.

Anything else will be treated
as contempt.

Do you think you could survive
for just a few minutes

without showing off?

What did I say?
I said, "Don't get clever."

I can't just turn it on and off
like a tap.

- Well?
- Well what?

You were there for the whole thing.
Up in the gallery, start to finish.

Like you said it would be.
Sat on his backside, never even stirred.

Moriarty's not mounting any defence.

Bank of England, Tower of London,
Pentonville.

Three of the most secure places
in the country

and six weeks ago, Moriarty breaks in,
no one knows how or why.

- All we know is...
- He ended up in custody.

Don't do that.

- Do what?
- The look.

- Look?
- You're doing the look again.

Well, I can't see it, can I?

- It's my face.
- Yes, and it's doing a thing.

You're doing a "we both know
what's really going on here" face.

- Well, we do.
- No, I don't.

Which is why I find the face
so annoying.

If Moriarty wanted the jewels,
he'd have them.

If he wanted those prisoners freed,
they'd be out on the streets.

The only reason he's still in a prison
cell right now

is because he chose to be there.

Somehow, this is part of his scheme.

Mr Crayhill,
can we have your first witness?

Your honour, we're not calling
any witnesses.

I don't follow.
You've entered a plea of "not guilty".

Nevertheless,
my client is offering no evidence.

The defence rests.

- Ladies and gentlemen of the jury...
- Ladies and gentlemen of the jury...

- ...James Moriarty stands accused...
- ...James Moriarty stands accused

of multiple counts
of attempted burglary.

Crimes which, if he's found guilty,

will elicit
a very long custodial sentence

and yet his legal team has...

...chosen to offer
no evidence whatsoever

to support their plea.

I find myself in the unusual position

of recommending a verdict
wholeheartedly.

You must find him guilty.

Guilty.

You must find him guilty.

Coming back.

That was six minutes.

Surprised it took them that long,
to be honest.

There was a queue for the loo.

Have you reached a verdict
on which you all agree?

Not guilty. They found him not guilty.

No defence and Moriarty's walked free.

Sherlock? Are you listening?

He's out. You know he'll be
coming after you.

Sher...

Most people knock.

But then, you're not most people,
I suppose.

Kettle's just boiled.

Johann Sebastian
would be appalled.

- May I?
- Please.

You know, while he was
on his deathbed, Bach,

he heard his son at the piano
playing one of his pieces.

The boy stopped
before he got to the end.

And the dying man jumped out of his bed,

ran straight to the piano
and finished it.

Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody.

Neither can you. It's why you've come.

But be honest,
you're just a tiny bit pleased.

- What? With the verdict?
- With me.

Back on the streets.

Every fairy tale needs
a good old-fashioned villain.

You need me or you're nothing.

Because we're just alike, you and I.

Except you're boring.

You're on the side of the angels.

You got to the jury, of course.

I got into the Tower of London,

you think I can't worm my way
into 12 hotel rooms?

Cable network.

Every hotel bedroom
has a personalised TV screen.

And every person
has their pressure point,

someone that they want
to protect from harm.

Easy peasy.

So how are you going to do it?

- Burn me?
- Oh, that's the problem.

The final problem.

Have you worked out what it is yet?

What's the final problem?

I did tell you.

But did you listen?

How hard do you find it
having to say "I don't know"?

- I don't know.
- Oh, that's clever. That's very clever.

Awfully clever.

Speaking of clever,
have you told your little friends yet?

- Told them what?
- Why I broke into all those places

- and never took anything?
- No.

- But you understand.
- Obviously.

Off you go, then.

You want me to tell you
what you already know?

No, I want you to prove
that you know it.

You didn't take anything
because you don't need to.

Good.

You'll never need to take
anything ever again.

Very good. Because?

Because nothing, nothing

in the Bank of England, the Tower
of London or Pentonville Prison

could possibly match
the value of the key

that could get you into all three.

I can open any door anywhere
with a few tiny lines of computer code.

No such thing
as a private bank account now.

They're all mine.
No such thing as secrecy.

I own secrecy.

Nuclear codes, I could blow up NATO
in alphabetical order.

In a world of locked rooms,
the man with the key is king.

And honey,
you should see me in a crown.

You were advertising
all the way through the trial.

You were showing the world
what you can do.

And you were helping. Big client list.

Rogue governments,
intelligence communities.

Terror cells.

They all want me. Suddenly I'm Mr Sex.

You can break any bank.

What do you care
about the highest bidder?

I don't.
I just like to watch them all competing.

"Daddy loves me the best!"
Aren't ordinary people adorable?

Well, you know. You've got John.

I should get myself a live-in one.

- Why are you doing all of this?
- It must be so funny.

You don't want money or power,
not really.

What is it all for?

I want to solve the problem.

Our problem. The final problem.

It's going to start very soon, Sherlock.

The fall.
But don't be scared.

Falling's just like flying except
there's a more permanent destination.

I never liked riddles.

Learn to.

Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock.

I owe you.

Uh, excuse me,

I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes.

Would you happen to know
if he's around at all?

Can you not hear me?

Yes, all right. Anyone?

Anyone at all know

where Mycroft Holmes is?

I've been asked to meet him here.

No takers. Right. Am I invisible?
Can you actually see me?

Ah, thanks, gents.
I've been asked to meet Mycroft Holmes.

Tradition, John.
Our traditions define us.

So total silence is traditional, is it?

You can't even say "pass the sugar"?

Three quarters
of the diplomatic service

and half of the Government front bench
all sharing one tea trolley?

It's for the best, believe me.

They don't want a repeat of 1972.

- But we can talk in here.
- You read this stuff?

- Caught my eye.
- Mmm-hmm.

Saturday, they're doing a big exposé.

I'd love to know
where she got her information.

Someone called Brook.
Recognise the name?

School friend, maybe?

Of Sherlock's?

But that's not why I asked you here.

- Who's that?
- Don't know him?

- No.
- Never seen his face before?

- Um...
- He's taken a flat in Baker Street,

two doors down from you.

Hmm. I was thinking of doing
a drinks thing for the neighbours.

I'm not sure you'll want to.

Sulejmani. Albanian hit squad.
Expertly trained killer,

living less than 20 feet
from your front door.

Well, it's a great location.

- Jubilee Line's handy.
- John...

- What's it got to do with me?
- Dyachenko, Ludmila.

Um, actually, I think I have seen her.

Russian killer.
She's taken the flat opposite.

Okay.

I'm sensing a pattern here.

In fact,
four top international assassins

relocate to within spitting distance
of 221b.

Anything you care to share with me?

I'm moving?

It's not hard to guess
the common denominator, is it?

You think this is Moriarty?

He promised Sherlock he'd come back.

If this was Moriarty,
he would be dead already.

If not Moriarty, then who?

Why don't you talk to Sherlock
if you're so concerned about him?

Oh, God! Don't tell me.

Too much history between us, John.

Old scores, resentments.

Nicked all his Smurfs?
Broke his Action Man?

Finished.

We both know what's coming, John.

Moriarty is obsessed,
he's sworn to destroy his only rival.

So you want me
to watch out for your brother

because he won't accept your help.

If it's not too much trouble.

- Excuse me.
- Sorry.

Sherlock, there's something weird...

- What's going on?
- Kidnapping.

Rufus Bruhl, the Ambassador to the US.

- He's in Washington, isn't he?
- Not him. His children.

Max and Claudette. Aged seven and nine.

They're at St Aldate's.

Posh boarding place
down in Surrey.

School broke up.
All the other boarders went home.

Just a few kids remained,
including those two.

The kids have vanished.

The Ambassador's asked
for you personally.

The Reichenbach hero.

Isn't it great to be working
with a celebrity?

- It's all right.
- Miss MacKenzie, House Mistress.

Go easy.

Miss MacKenzie.
You're in charge of pupil welfare,

yet you left this place
wide open last night!

What are you,
an idiot, a drunk or a criminal?

Now, quickly, tell me!

All the doors and windows
were properly bolted.

No one, not even me,
went into their room last night.

You have to believe me!

I do.
I just wanted you to speak quickly.

Miss MacKenzie will need to
breathe into a bag now.

Six grand a term, you'd expect them
to keep the kids safe for you.

So the other kids
had all left on their holidays?

They were the only two
sleeping on this floor.

Absolutely no sign of a break-in.

The intruder must have been
hidden inside someplace.

Show me where the brother slept.

Boy sleeps there every night

gazing at the only light source,
outside in the corridor.

He'd recognise every shape,
every outline.

The silhouette of everyone
who came to the door.

Okay, so?

So someone approaches the door
who he doesn't recognise.

An intruder. Maybe he can even
see the outline of a weapon.

What would he do

in the precious few seconds
before they came into the room?

How would he use them,
if not to cry out?

This little boy,
this particular little boy,

who reads all those spy books.
What would he do?

He'd leave a sign.

Get Anderson.

Linseed oil.

Not much use.
Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper.

- Brilliant, Anderson.
- Really?

Yes, brilliant impression of an idiot.

The floor.

He made a trail for us.

The boy was made to walk ahead of them.

- On tiptoe?
- Indicates anxiety.

Gun held to his head.

The girl was pulled beside him,
dragged sideways.

He had his left arm
cradled about her neck.

That's the end of it.
We don't know where they went from here.

Tell us nothing after all.

You're right, Anderson. Nothing.

Except his shoe size, his height,
his gait, his walking pace.

Having fun?

Starting to.

Maybe don't do the smiling.
Kidnapped children?

How did he get past the CCTV?
If all the doors were locked.

He walked in when they weren't locked.

A stranger can't just
walk into a school like that.

Anyone can walk in anywhere
if they pick the right moment.

Yesterday, end of term,

parents milling around,
chauffeurs, staff.

What's one more stranger
among that lot?

He was waiting for them.

All he had to do
was find a place to hide.

- Molly!
- Oh, hello. I'm just getting out.

- No you're not.
- I've got a lunch date.

- Cancel it. You're having lunch with me.
- What?

Need your help.

It's one of your boyfriends,
we're trying to track him down.

- He's been a bit naughty.
- It's Moriarty.

Of course it's Moriarty.

Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend.
We went out three times. I ended it.

Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels,
broke into the Bank of England

and organised a prison break
at Pentonville.

For the sake of law and order,

I suggest you avoid all future
attempts at a relationship, Molly.

Oil, John.

The oil in the kidnapper's footprint.
It'll lead us to Moriarty.

All the chemical traces on his shoe
have been preserved.

The sole of the shoe is like a passport.

If we're lucky, we can see everything
that he's been up to.

I need that analysis.

- Alkaline.
- Thank you, John.

- Molly.
- Yes.

IOU...

Glycerol molecule.

What are you?

What did you mean, "I owe you"?

You said, "I owe you."

You were muttering it
while you were working.

Nothing. Mental note.

You're a bit like my dad.
He's dead. Oh, sorry.

Molly, please don't feel the need
to make conversation.

It's really not your area.

When he was dying,
he was always cheerful, he was lovely.

Except when he thought no one could see.

- I saw him once. He looked sad.
- Molly...

You look sad.
When you think he can't see you.

Are you okay? Don't just say you are,

because I know what that means,

looking sad when you think
no one can see you.

- You can see me.
- I don't count.

What I'm trying to say is that
if there's anything I can do,

anything you need, anything at all,

you can have me.
No, I just mean... I mean...

If there's anything you need.
It's fine.

But what could I need from you?

Nothing. I don't know.

But you could probably say
thank you, actually.

Thank you.

I'm just going to go and get some
crisps. Do you want anything?

It's okay. I know you don't.

- Well, actually, maybe I'll...
- I know you don't.

- Sherlock?
- Hmm?

This envelope was in her trunk.

- There's another one.
- What?

On our doorstep. Found it today.

Yes, and look at that.

Look at that. Exactly the same seal.

- Bread crumbs.
- Uh-huh. It was there when I got back.

A little trace of bread crumbs,
hardback copy of fairy tales.

Two children led into the forest
by a wicked father

follow a little trail of bread crumbs.

That's Hansel and Gretel.

What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?

The sort that likes to boast.
The sort that thinks it's all a game.

He sat in our flat and he said
these exact words to me.

All fairly tales need
a good old-fashioned villain.

The fifth substance.

It's part of the tale.
The witch's house.

The glycerol molecule.

- PGPR.
- What's that?

It's used in making chocolate.

This fax arrived an hour ago.

What have you got for us?

We need to find a place in the city

where all five of these things
intersect.

Chalk, asphalt, brick dust,
vegetation...

What the hell is this? Chocolate?

I think we're looking for
a disused sweet factory.

We need to narrow that down.
A sweet factory with asphalt?

No, no, no. Too general.

Need something more specific,
chalk, chalky clay.

That's a far thinner band of geology.

Brick dust.

Building site. Bricks from the 1950s.

There's thousands of building sites
in London!

- I've got people out looking.
- So have I!

Homeless network.
Faster than the police.

Far more relaxed about taking bribes.

John.

Rhododendron ponticom.

Matches.

- Addlestone.
- What?

There's a mile of disused factories
between the river and the park.

- It matches everything.
- Come on.

Come on!

You, look over there.
Look everywhere.

Spread out, please. Spread out!

This was alight moments ago.
They're still here!

Sweet wrappers.
What's he been feeding you?

Hansel and Gretel.

- Mercury.
- What?

The papers,
they're painted with mercury. Lethal.

- The more of the stuff they ate...
- It was killing them.

It's not enough to kill them
on its own.

Taken in large enough quantities,
eventually it would kill them.

He didn't need to be there
for the execution.

Murder by remote control.
He could be 1,000 miles away.

The hungrier they got,
the more they ate,

the faster they died. Neat.

Sherlock.

Over here!

We've got you, don't worry.

Right, then.
The professionals have finished

if the amateurs want to go in
and have their turn.

Now, remember that she's in shock
and she's just seven years old so...

Anything you can do to...

- Not be myself.
- Yeah.

Might be helpful.

Claudette, I...

No, no,

I know it's been hard for you,
Claudette.

Listen to me.

Get out!

- Makes no sense.
- Kid's traumatised.

Something about Sherlock
reminds her of the kidnapper.

What's she said?

Hasn't uttered another syllable.

- And the boy?
- No, he's unconscious.

Still in intensive care.

Well, don't let it get to you,

I always feel like screaming
when you walk into a room.

In fact, so do most people.

Come on.

Brilliant work you did,
finding those kids

from just a footprint.

- It's really amazing.
- Thank you.

Unbelievable.

Ah.

You okay?

Thinking.

This is my cab, you get the next one.

- Why?
- You might talk.

What the hell is this? Chocolate?

We're looking for
a disused sweet factory.

Get out!

Problem?

...nation,
this is stunning eveningwear

- sent from us here at London...
- Could you turn that off, please?

As you can see,
the set comprises of a beautiful...

Can you turn this off?

Accompanied by four...

Hello. Are you ready for the story?

This is the story of Sir Boast-A-Lot.

A footprint, that's all he has.

A footprint.

Yeah, well, you know what he's like,
CSI Baker Street.

Well, our boys couldn't have done it.

Well, that's why we need him.
He's better.

- That's one explanation.
- And what's the other?

Sir Boast-A-Lot was the bravest and
cleverest knight at the round table.

But soon, the other knights
began to grow tired of his stories

about how brave he was
and how many dragons he'd slain.

And soon they began to wonder,

are Sir Boast-A-Lot's stories even true?

Only he could have found
that evidence.

Oh, no.

And then the girl screams
her head off when she sees him,

a man she has never seen before.

Unless she had seen him before.

- What's your point?
- You know what my point is,

you just don't want to think about it.

So one of the knights
went to King Arthur

and said, "I don't believe
Sir Boast-A-Lot's stories."

He's just a big old liar who makes
things up to make himself look good.

You're not seriously suggesting
he's involved, are you?

I say we have to entertain
the possibility.

And then even the King
began to wonder...

But that wasn't the end
of Sir Boast-A-Lot's problem.

No.

That wasn't the final problem.

The end.

Stop the cab. Stop the cab!

What was that?

What was that?

No charge.

Look out!

Thank you.

Sherlock!

That is him. It's him.

Sulejmani or something.
Mycroft showed me his files.

A big Albanian gangster
who lives two doors down from us.

He died because I shook his hand.

- What do you mean?
- Saved my life,

but he couldn't touch me. Why?

Four assassins
living right on our doorstep.

They didn't come here to kill me.

They have to keep me alive.

I've got something
that all of them want.

But if one of them approaches me...

The others kill them
before they can get it.

All of the attention
is focused on me.

There's a surveillance web
closing in on us right now.

So, what have you got
that's so important?

We need to ask about the dusting.

Precise details.
In the last week, what's been cleaned?

- Well, Tuesday I did your lino...
- No, in here. This room.

This is where we'll find it.
Any break in the dust line.

You can put back anything but dust.
Dust is eloquent.

- What's he on about?
- I don't know.

- Cameras. We're being watched.
- What?

Cameras? Here?

I'm in my nightie.

- No, Inspector.
- What?

The answer is no.

- You haven't heard the question.
- You want to take me to the station.

Just saving you the trouble of asking.

- Sherlock...
- The scream?

Yeah.

Who was it? Donovan?
I bet it was Donovan.

Am I somehow responsible
for the kidnapping?

Ah, Moriarty's smart.

He planted that doubt in her head.

That little nagging sensation you
got to have to be strong to resist.

You can't kill an idea, can you?

Not once it's made a home...

there.

- Will you come?
- One photograph, that's his next move.

Moriarty's game. First the scream,

then a photograph of me
being taken in for questioning.

He wants to destroy me inch by inch.

It is a game, Lestrade,
and not one I'm willing to play.

Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan.

- He'll be deciding.
- Deciding?

Whether to come back
with a warrant and arrest me.

- You think?
- Standard procedure.

Should have gone with him.

- People will think...
- I don't care what people think.

You'd care if they thought
you were stupid or wrong.

No, that would just make them
stupid or wrong.

Sherlock, I don't want
the world believing you're...

That I am what?

A fraud.

- You're worried they're right.
- What?

- You're worried they're right about me.
- No.

That's why you're so upset, you can't
even entertain the possibility

that they might be right, you're afraid
that you've been taken in as well.

No, I'm not.

Moriarty is playing with your mind, too.

Can't you see what's going on?

- No, I know you're for real.
- A hundred percent?

Nobody could fake being
such an annoying dick all the time.

- Sherlock Holmes?
- Yes, sir.

That bloke that's been in the press?

Mmm-hmm.

I thought he was
some sort of private eye?

- He is.
- We've been consulting with him,

that's what you're telling me?

Not used him on any proper cases,
though, have we?

Well, one or two.

Twenty or 30.

- What?
- Look, I'm not the only senior officer

- who did this...
- Shut up.

An amateur detective given access
to all sorts of classified information?

And now he's a suspect in a case?

- With all due respect...
- You're a bloody idiot, Lestrade.

Now, go and fetch him in, right now.

Do it!

Proud of yourselves?

What if it's not just this case? What if
he's done this to us every single time?

So, I've still got some friends
on the force.

It's Lestrade. Says they're all
coming over here right now.

Queuing up to slap on the handcuffs,

every single officer
you ever made feel like a tit.

Which is a lot of people.

Yoo hoo!

Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?

Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot.

Marked perishable.
I had to sign for it.

Funny name. German.
Like the fairy tales.

Burnt to a crisp.

What does it mean?

I'll go.

- Sherlock.
- Excuse me, Mrs Hudson.

We need to talk to you!

Don't barge in like that.

- Have you got a warrant? Have you?
- Leave it, John.

Me? But...

Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on
suspicion of abduction and kidnapping.

- It's all right, John.
- He's not resisting.

No, it's not all right.
This is ridiculous.

Get him downstairs, now.

- You know you don't...
- Don't try to interfere

or I shall arrest you, too.

- You done?
- Oh, I said it.

- First time we met.
- Don't bother.

Solving crimes won't be enough.

One day, he'll cross the line.

Now ask yourself, what sort of man
would kidnap those kids

just so he can impress us all
by finding them?

- Donovan? That's our man?
- Sir.

Uh, yes, sir.

Looked a bit of a weirdo,
if you ask me.

Often are, these vigilante types.

What are you looking at?

Are you all right, sir?

Joining me?

Yeah.

Apparently it's against the law
to chin the Chief Superintendent.

Bit awkward, this.

There's no one to bail us.

I was thinking more about
our imminent and daring escape.

All units to 2-7.

- What?
- All units to two...

Ladies and gentlemen,
will you all please get on your knees?

- Now would be good!
- Do as he says!

Just so you're aware,
the gun is his idea,

- I'm just, uh, you know...
- My hostage!

Hostage, yes, that works.

That works. So what now?

Doing what Moriarty wants.

Becoming a fugitive. Run.

Get after him, Lestrade!

Take my hand.

Now people will definitely talk.

- The gun!
- Leave it.

Sherlock, wait!

We're going to need to coordinate.

- Go to your right.
- Huh?

Go to your right.

Everybody wants to believe it.
That's what makes it so clever.

A lie that's preferable to the truth.

All my brilliant deductions
were just a sham.

No one feels inadequate.
Sherlock Holmes is just an ordinary man.

What about Mycroft? He could help us.

If he thinks I want a reconciliation?

Now's not really the moment.

Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock!

We're being followed.
I knew we couldn't outrun the police.

It's not the police. It's one of our
new neighbours from Baker Street.

Let's see if he can
give us some answers.

Where are we going?

We going to jump in front of that bus.

Tell me what you want from me.

Tell me!

He left it at your flat.

- Who?
- Moriarty.

What?

The computer key code.

Of course, he's selling it.

The programme he used
to break into the Tower.

He planted it when he came around.

It's a game-changer.

It's a key.
It could break into any system

and it's sitting in our flat right now.

That's why he left that message

telling everyone where to come.
"Get Sherlock."

We need to get back into the flat
and search.

CID will be camped out.
Why plant it on you?

It's another subtle way
of smearing my name,

now I'm best pals
with all those criminals.

Yeah, well, have you seen this?

A kiss and tell.
Some bloke called Rich Brook.

Who is he?

Too late to go on the record?

Congratulations.
The truth about Sherlock Holmes.

The scoop that everybody wanted
and you've got it. Bravo.

I gave you your opportunity.

I wanted to be on your side, remember?

You turned me down.

And then, lo and behold, someone
turns up and spills all the beans.

How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?

Oh, come on, Kitty. No one trusts
the voice at the end of a telephone.

There were all those
furtive little meetings in cafés,

those sessions in the hotel room
where he gabbled into your Dictaphone.

How do you know
that you can trust him, eh?

A man turns up
with the Holy Grail in his pocket.

What were his credentials?

Darling, they didn't have
any ground coffee,

so I just got normal.

You said that
they wouldn't find me here.

- You said that I'd be safe here.
- You are safe, Richard.

I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you
in front of witnesses.

So, that's your source?

Moriarty is Richard Brook?

Of course he's Richard Brook, there is
no Moriarty, there never has been.

- What are you talking about?
- Look him up.

Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes
hired to be Moriarty.

Doctor Watson, I...

I know you're a good man. Don't...
Don't... Don't hurt me.

No, you're Moriarty! He's Moriarty!

We've met, remember?
You were going to blow me up!

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

He paid me. I needed the work.

- I'm an actor, I was out of work...
- Sherlock, you'd better explain,

- 'cause I am not getting this.
- I'll be doing the explaining.

In print. It's all here.

Conclusive proof.

You invented James Moriarty,
your nemesis.

- Invented him?
- Mmm-hmm.

Invented all the crimes, actually.

And to cap it all,
you made up a master villain.

- Oh, don't be ridiculous.
- Ask him, he's right here!

Just ask him!

- Tell him, Richard.
- No, for god's sake,

- this man was on trial.
- Yes, and you paid him.

Paid him to take the rap.

Promised you'd rig the jury.

Not exactly a West End role,
but I'll bet the money was good.

But not so good
he didn't want to sell his story.

I am sorry. I am, I am sorry.

So, this is the story
that you're going to publish?

The big conclusion of it all,
Moriarty is an actor?

He knows I am. I have proof.

I have proof, show him.
Can you show them something?

Yeah, show me something.

I'm on TV, I'm on kids TV.
I'm the Storyteller.

I'm the Storyteller. It's on DVD.

Just tell him.

It's all coming out now. It's all over.

Just tell them, just tell them.
Tell him!

It's all over... No! No!
Don't you touch me.

Don't you lay a finger on me.

Stop it, stop it now!

No, no, don't hurt me.

- Don't let him get away!
- Leave him alone!

No, no, no, he'll have backup.

Do you know what, Sherlock Holmes?

I look at you now and I can read you.

And you repel me.

Can he do that?
Completely change his identity?

- Make you the criminal?
- He's got my whole life story.

That's what you do. You sell a big lie.

You wrap it up in a truth
to make it palatable.

It's your word against his.

He's been sowing doubt into
people's minds for the last 24 hours.

There's only one thing he needs to do
to complete his game and that's to...

Sherlock?

There's something I need to do.

- What, can I help?
- No, on my own.

You're wrong, you know.

You do count.

You've always counted
and I've always trusted you.

But you were right.

I'm not okay.

Tell me what's wrong.

Molly, I think I'm going to die.

- What do you need?
- If I wasn't everything

that you think I am,

everything that I think I am,

would you still want to help me?

What do you need?

You.

She has really done her homework,
Miss Riley.

There's things that only someone
close to Sherlock could know.

Ah.

Have you seen
your brother's address book lately?

There's two names, yours and mine.

And Moriarty didn't get this stuff
from me.

- John...
- So, how does it work, then?

Your relationship?
You go out for a coffee

now and then, eh? You and Jim?

Your own brother and you blabbed
about his entire life

to this maniac?

- I never intend... I never dreamt...
- This, see, this...

is what you were trying to tell me,
isn't it?

Watch his back,
'cause I've made a mistake.

How did you meet him?

People like him, we...

know about them, we watch them.

But James Moriarty,

the most dangerous criminal mind
the world has ever seen,

and in his pocket's the ultimate weapon,
a key code.

A few lines of computer code
that can unlock any door.

And you abducted him?

To try and find the key code.

- Interrogated him for weeks.
- And?

He wouldn't play along.

He just sat there,
staring into the darkness.

The only thing that made him open up...

I could get him to talk. Just a little.

But...

in return, you had to offer him
Sherlock's life story.

So there's one big lie,

Sherlock's a fraud.

But people will swallow it
because the rest of it is true.

Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed,
right?

And you have given him
the perfect ammunition.

John.

I'm sorry.

Oh, please.

Tell him, would you?

Got your message.

The computer code is key to this.
If we find it, we can use it,

beat Moriarty at his own game.

- What do you mean, use it?
- He's used it

to create a false identity.

So we can use it to break into
the records and destroy Richard Brook.

And bring back Jim Moriarty again.

Somewhere in 221b, somewhere,
on the day of the verdict,

- he left it hidden.
- Uh-huh.

- What did he touch?
- An apple, nothing else.

- Did he write anything down?
- No.

Yeah, speaking.

What? What happened? Is she okay?

Oh, my God.

Right. Yes, I'm coming.

- What is it?
- Paramedics.

- Mrs Hudson's been shot.
- What? How?

Well, probably one of the killers
you managed to attract. Jesus.

- Jesus! She's dying, Sherlock. Let's go.
- You go, I'm busy.

- Busy?
- Thinking, I need to think.

You need to...
Doesn't she mean anything to you?

You once half killed a man
because he laid a finger on her.

- She's my landlady.
- She's dying,

you machine. Sod this.

Sod this.
You stay here if you want. On your own.

Alone is what I have.
Alone protects me.

No, friends protect people.

Well.

Here we are at last.

You and me, Sherlock.

And our problem, the final problem,

stayin' alive.

So boring, isn't it?

It's just...

staying.

All my life, I've been searching
for a distraction

and you were the best distraction
and now I don't even have you.

Because I've beaten you.

And you know what?
In the end, it was easy.

It was easy.

Now I've got to go back
to playing with the ordinary people.

And it turns out you're ordinary,
just like all of them.

Oh, well.

Did you almost start to wonder
if I was real?

Did I nearly get you?

Richard Brook.

Nobody seems to get the joke.

- But you do.
- Of course.

Attaboy.

Rich Brook in German is Reichenbach.

The case that made my name.

Just trying to have some fun.

Good, you got that, too.

Beats like digits.

Every beat is a one,
every rest is a zero.

Binary code. That's why all those
assassins tried to save my life.

It was hidden on me,
hidden inside my head.

A few simple lines of computer code
that can break into any system.

Told all my clients.

- Last one to Sherlock is a sissy.
- Yes, but now that it's up here,

I can use it to alter all the records.

I can kill Rich Brook
and bring back Jim Moriarty.

No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy.

This is too easy.
There is no key, doofus!

Those digits are meaningless.
They're utterly meaningless.

You don't really think
a couple of lines of computer code

are going to crash the world
around our ears?

I'm disappointed.
I'm disappointed in you.

- Ordinary Sherlock.
- But the rhythm...

Partita No 1.
Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach.

- Then how did you...
- Now, how did I break into the bank,

to the Tower, to the prison?
Daylight robbery.

All it takes
is some willing participants.

I knew you'd fall for it.
That's your weakness.

You always want everything to be clever.
Now, shall we finish the game?

One final act.
Glad you chose a tall building.

Nice way to do it.

Do it? Do... Do what?

Yes, of course.

My suicide.

Genius detective proved to be a fraud.

I read it in the paper,
so it must be true.

I love newspapers.

Fairy tales.

And pretty grim ones, too.

Oh, God, John, you made me jump.

Is everything okay now with the police?
Has, um, Sherlock sorted it all out?

Oh, my God.

Taxi!

Taxi!

No, no, no, no, police!

Thanks, mate. Thanks a lot.

I can still prove that you created
an entirely false identity.

Oh, just kill yourself,
it's a lot less effort.

Go on.

For me.

Please?

You're insane.

You're just getting that now? Whoa!

Okay.

Let me give you
a little extra incentive.

Your friends will die if you don't.

- John?
- Not just John. Everyone.

- Mrs Hudson?
- Everyone.

- Lestrade?
- Three bullets, three gunmen,

three victims.
There's no stopping them now.

Unless my people see you jump.

You can have me arrested.
You can torture me.

You can do anything you like with me.

But nothing's going to prevent them
from pulling the trigger.

Your only three friends in the world
will die. Unless...

Unless I kill myself,
complete your story.

You've got to admit, that's sexier.

And I die in disgrace.

Of course, that's the point of this.

Look, you got an audience now.

Off you pop.

Go on.

I told you how this ends.

Your death is the only thing
that's going to call off the killers.

I'm certainly not going to do it.

Would you give me one moment, please?

One moment of privacy.

Please?

Of course.

What?

What is it?

What did I miss?

You're not going to do it?

So the killers can be called off, then,
there's a recall code

or a word or a number.

I don't have to die...

- ...if I've got you.
- Oh.

You think you can
make me stop the order?

- You think you can make me do that?
- Yes.

So do you.

Sherlock, you're big brother and all
the king's horses

couldn't make me do a thing
I didn't want to.

Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember?

I am you.

Prepared to do anything.
Prepared to burn.

Prepared to do what ordinary people
won't do.

You want me to shake hands with you
in Hell? I shall not disappoint you.

Nah.

You talk big.

Nah. You're ordinary.

You're ordinary,
you're on the side of the angels.

Oh, I may be on the side of the angels,

but don't think for one second
that I am one of them.

No.

You're not.

I see.

You're not ordinary. No.

You're me.

You're me.

Thank you,

Sherlock Holmes.

Thank you.

Bless you.

As long as I'm alive,
you can save your friends.

You've got a way out.

Well, good luck with that.

Yes, sir. Thank you. Bye.

Hello?

- John.
- Hey, Sherlock, you okay?

Turn around and walk back
the way you came.

- No, I'm coming in.
- Just do as I ask!

- Please.
- Where?

- Stop there.
- Sherlock?

Okay, look up, I'm on the rooftop.

Oh, God.

I... I... I can't come down,
so we'll just have to do it like this.

- What's going on?
- An apology.

- It's all true.
- What?

Everything they said about me.

I invented Moriarty.

Why are you saying this?

I'm a fake.

- Sherlock.
- The newspapers were right all along.

I want you to tell Lestrade.
I want you to tell Mrs Hudson.

And Molly.

In fact, tell anyone
who will listen to you

that I created Moriarty

for my own purposes.

Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up.
The first time we met.

The first time we met,
you knew all about my sister.

- Right?
- Nobody could be that clever.

You could.

I researched you.

Before we met, I discovered
everything that I could to impress you.

It's a trick. Just a magic trick.

No, all right, stop it now.

No, stay exactly where you are.

- Don't move.
- All right.

Keep your eyes fixed on me.

- Please, will you do this for me?
- Do what?

This phone call, it's, um...

It's my note.

It's what people do, don't they?

Leave a note?

Leave a note when?

- Goodbye, John.
- No, don't.

Sherlock!

Sherlock.

Sherlock.

Sherlock.

I'm a doctor. Let me come through.
Let me come through, please.

No, he's my friend.
He's my friend. Please.

Please, let me just...

Oh, Jesus, no...

God, no.

Oh, God.

There's stuff
that you wanted to say,

- but didn't say it.
- Yeah.

Say it now.

No.

I'm sorry, I can't.

There's all of this stuff.

All the science equipment.

I left it all in boxes.
I don't know what needs doing.

I thought I'd take it to a school.

- Would you...
- I can't go back to the flat again.

Not at the moment.

I'm angry.

It's okay, John.

There's nothing unusual in that.

That's the way he made everyone feel.

All those marks on my table
and the noise.

Firing guns at half past one
in the morning.

- Yeah.
- Bloody specimens in my fridge.

Imagine, keeping bodies
where there's food.

- Yes.
- And the fighting.

Drove me up the wall
with all his carryings on.

Yeah, listen,
I'm not actually that angry, okay?

Okay, I'll leave you alone to,
you know...

Um...

Mmm, right, you... You told me once...

...that you weren't a hero.

Um...

There were times I didn't even think
you were human

but let me tell you this,
you were the best man

and the most human human being

that I've ever known
and no one will ever convince me

that you told me a lie, okay? So...

there.

I was...

I was so alone.

And I owe you so much.

Oh, please, there's just one more thing,
right? One more thing.

One more miracle, Sherlock, for me.
Don't be...

dead.

Would you, just for me, just stop it?
Stop this.