All language subtitles for Sherlock S03-E01.srt - eng(2)

Sherlock!

It's a trick.

Just a magic trick.

No. All right, stop it now.

Now, stay exactly where you are.

- Don't move.
- All right.

Keep your eyes fixed on me.

Please, would you do this for me?

Do what?

This phone call, it's uh, 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!

John? John, look at me.

Look at me. And sleep.

Right the way down, right the way deep,
right the way, sound asleep.

That's real.

That's good, with my voice just there
in the centre of your head

and floating all the way around you.

And you will awaken
in three, two, one...

zero.

Let me come through, please!
He's my friend.

Bollocks!

No, no, no, no, it's obvious.

That's how he did it. It's obvious.

Derren Brown?

- Let it go, Sherlock's dead.
- But is he?

There was a body, it was him.

It was definitely him,
Molly Hooper laid him out.

No, she's lying.

It was Jim Moriarty's body
with a mask on.

A mask?

A bungee rope, a mask, Derren Brown.

Two years and the theories
keep getting more stupid.

How many more have you
got for me today?

Well, you know the paving slabs
in that whole area,

even the exact ones that he landed on,
you know they were all...

Guilt! That's all this is.

You pushed us all into thinking
that Sherlock was a fraud,

you and Donovan.

You did this and it killed him
and he's staying dead.

Do you honestly believe that if you have
enough stupid theories

it's going to change
what really happened?

I believe in Sherlock Holmes.

Yeah, well, that won't bring him back.

And that after extensive
police investigations,

Richard Brook did indeed prove to be
the creation of James Moriarty.

Amidst unprecedented scenes,
there was uproar in court

as Sherlock Holmes was vindicated
and cleared of all suspicion.

Sadly, all this comes
too late for the detective,

who became something
of a celebrity two years ago.

Questions are now being asked
as to why police let matters get so far.

Sherlock Holmes fell to his death

from the top of
London's Barts Hospital.

Although he left no note,
friends say it's unlikely...

Well, then. Absent friends.

- Sherlock.
- Sherlock.

And may God rest his soul.

Now, listen to me.

There's an underground terrorist
network active in London

and a massive attack is imminent.

Sorry but the holiday is over,

brother, dear.

Back to Baker Street,

Sherlock Holmes.

Penny for the Guy?

Oi, mate, penny for the Guy?

- Penny for the Guy, mate?
- Penny for the Guy?

- Penny for the Guy?
- Penny for the Guy?

That was the most
ridiculous thing I've ever done.

You invaded Afghanistan.

You have been busy, haven't you?

Quite the busy little bee.

Moriarty's network.
Took me two years to dismantle it.

And you're confident you have?

The Serbian side was
the last piece of the puzzle.

Yes.

You got yourself in deep there
with Baron Maupertius.

- Quite a scheme.
- Colossal.

Anyway. You're safe now.

Hmm.

A small "thank you" wouldn't go amiss.

What for?

For wading in.

In case you've forgotten,
field work is not my natural milieu.

"Wading in"?

You sat there and watched me
being beaten to a pulp.

- I got you out.
- No, I got me out.

Why didn't you intervene sooner?

I couldn't risk giving myself away,
could I?

- It would have ruined everything.
- You were enjoying it.

- Nonsense.
- Definitely enjoying it.

Listen, do you have any idea
what it was like,

Sherlock, going undercover?

Smuggling my way into
their ranks like that?

The noise, the people!

I didn't know you spoke Serbian.

I didn't.

But the language has a Slavic root.

Frequent Turkish and German loan-words.

Took me a couple of hours.

Hmm, you're slipping.

Middle age, brother mine.

Comes to us all.

Oh no, you don't take it, do you?

- No.
- You forget a little thing like that.

Yes.

You forget lots
of little things, it seems.

Uh-huh.

- Not sure about that.
- Hmm?

Ages you.

- Just trying it out.
- Well, it ages you.

- Look...
- I'm not your mother,

- I've no right to expect it.
- No.

But just one phone call, John!

Just one phone call would have done.

I know.

- After all we went through!
- Yes.

I am sorry.

Look, I understand how difficult
it was for you after...

After...

I just let it slide, Mrs Hudson,
I let it all slide.

And it just got harder and harder
to pick up the phone somehow.

Do you know what I mean?

I need you to give this matter

your full attention, Sherlock,
is that quite clear?

- What do you think of this shirt?
- Sherlock!

I will find your
underground terror cell, Mycroft.

Just put me back in London.

I need to get to know the place again,
breathe it in.

Feel every quiver of its beating heart.

One of our men died
getting this information.

All the chatter,
all the traffic concurs,

there's going to be a terrorist strike
on London, a big one.

And what about John Watson?

- John?
- Hmm. Have you seen him?

Oh yes, we meet up every Friday
for fish and chips.

I've kept a weather eye on him,
of course.

We haven't been in touch at all,
to prepare him.

No.

Well, we'll have to get rid of that.

- "We"?
- He looks ancient.

I can't be seen to be
wandering around with an old man.

I couldn't face
letting it out.

He never liked me dusting.

No, I know.

So why now? What changed your mind?

Well, I've got some news.

Oh God, is it serious?

What? No, no I'm not ill.

I've, uh, well, I'm... moving on.

You're emigrating?

Nope. Uh, no, I've, uh,

I have met someone.

Oh! Ah, lovely.

Yeah. We're getting married.
Well, I'm going to ask, anyway.

So soon after Sherlock?

Hmm, well, yes.

What's his name?

It's a woman.

- A woman?
- Yes, of course it's a woman.

You really have moved on, haven't you?

Mrs Hudson, how many times?

Sherlock was not my boyfriend.

Live and let live, that's my motto.

Listen to me. I am not gay!

I think I'll surprise John.

- He'll be delighted.
- You think so?

Hmm, pop into Baker Street,
who knows, jump out of a cake.

Baker Street? He isn't there any more.

Why would he be? It's been two years.

He's got on with his life.

What life? I've been away.

- Where's he going to be tonight?
- How would I know?

You always know.

He has a dinner reservation
in the Marylebone Road.

Nice little spot.

They have a few bottles of
the 2000 St Emilion,

though I prefer the 2001.

I think maybe I'll just drop by.

You know, it is just possible
that you won't be welcome.

No, it isn't.

Now, where is it?

- Where's what?
- You know what.

Welcome back, Mr Holmes.

Thank you,

blood.

Sir, can I help you?

Your wife just texted you,
possibly her contractions have started.

Excuse me, sir.

Oh, sir, I am so, so sorry.

Uh, please, let me just go to
the kitchen and dry that off for you.

Finished with that, sir?
Allow me to take it for you.

Madam, can I suggest you
look at this menu?

It's, uh, completely identical.

Can I help you
with anything, sir?

Hi, yeah, I'm looking
for a bottle of champagne.

A good one.

Hmm, well these are all
excellent vintages, sir.

Oh, it's not really my area,
what do you suggest?

Well, you cannot possibly go wrong

but, uh, maybe if you'd like
my personal recommendation...

Hmm?

This last one on the list
is a favourite of mine.

Uh, it is, you might in fact say,
like a face from the past.

Great. I'll have that one, please.

It is familiar
but with the quality of surprise!

Well, surprise me.

I'm certainly endeavouring to, sir.

Sorry that took so long.

- You okay?
- Yeah, yeah. Me? Fine. I am fine.

Now, then, what did you want to ask me?

- More wine?
- No, I'm good with water, thanks.

Right.

- So?
- Uh, so, Mary.

Listen, um...

I know it hasn't been long

and I know we haven't known
each other for a long time.

- Go on.
- Yes, I will.

As you know, these last couple of years
haven't been easy for me.

And meeting you,

yeah, meeting you
has been the best thing

that could have possibly happened.

- I agree.
- What?

I agree, I'm the best thing
that could have happened to you.

- Sorry.
- Well, no, it's, um,

so...

If you'll have me, Mary,
could you see your way, um...

If you could see your way to...

Sir, I think you'll find this vintage
exceptionally to your liking.

It has all the qualities of the old
with some of the colour of the new.

No, sorry, not now, please.

Like a gaze from a crowd of strangers,

suddenly one is aware of staring
into the face of an old friend.

No, look, seriously, could you just...

Interesting thing, a tuxedo.

Lends distinction to friends
and anonymity to waiters.

John?

John, what is it? What...

Well, the short version,

not dead.

Bit mean springing it on
you like that, I know.

Could have given you a heart attack,
probably still will.

But in my defence, it was very funny.

Okay, it's not a great defence.

- Oh, no, you're...
- Oh, yes.

- Oh, my God!
- Not quite.

You died, you jumped off a roof.

- No.
- You're dead.

No, I'm quite sure, I checked.
Excuse me.

Because, uh, does yours rub off, too?

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
Do you have any idea what you've done?

Okay, John,

I'm suddenly realising I probably
owe you some sort of an apology.

All right, just, John,
just keep...

Two years.

Two years! Hmm?

I thought. Mmm...

I thought...

you were dead.

Hmm?

Now, you let me grieve.

Hmm?

How could you do that?

How?

Wait, before you do anything
that you might regret, um,

one question,
just let me ask one question.

Are you really going to keep that?

I calculated that
there were 13 possibilities

once I'd invited Moriarty onto the roof.

I wanted to avoid dying,
if at all possible.

The first scenario involved
hurling myself

into a parked hospital van
filled with washing bags.

Impossible, the angle was too steep.

Secondly, a system
of Japanese wrestling.

You know, for a genius,
you can be remarkably thick.

- What?
- I don't care

how you faked it, Sherlock,
I want to know why.

Why? Because Moriarty had to be stopped.

Oh. Why, as in...

I see. Yes. Why?

That's a little more difficult
to explain.

I've got all night.

Actually, um,
that was mostly Mycroft's idea.

Oh, so it was your brother's plan?

Oh, what, he would have needed
a confidant?

Mmm-hmm.

Sorry.

But he was the only one?
The only one who knew?

A couple of others.

It was a very elaborate plan,
it had to be.

The next of the 13 possibilities was...

Who else? Who else knew?

- Who?
- Molly.

- Molly?
- John.

Molly Hooper and some of
my homeless network and that's all.

Okay.

Okay.

So just your brother, Molly Hooper
and a hundred tramps.

No! Twenty-five at most.

Seriously, it's not a joke?
You're really keeping this?

Yeah.

Sure?

Mary likes it.

- Mmm, no she doesn't.
- She does.

She doesn't.

- Oh, don't.
- Oh, brilliant!

Look, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
I didn't know how to tell you.

Right, no, no, this is charming.
I've really missed this!

One word, Sherlock,
that is all I would have needed!

One word to let me know
that you were alive!

I've nearly been in contact
so many times but...

I worried that, you know,
you might say something indiscreet.

- What?
- You know, let the cat out of the bag.

- Oh, so this is my fault!
- Oh, God!

Why am I the only one who thinks
that this is wrong?

The only one reacting
like a human being?

- Overreacting.
- Overreacting!

- John!
- Overreacting!

- So you fake your own death...
- Shh.

...and you waltz in here
large as bloody life

but I'm not supposed to
have a problem with that,

no, because Sherlock Holmes thinks
it's a perfectly okay thing to do!

Shut up, John! I don't want
everyone knowing I'm still alive!

- Oh, so it's still a secret, is it?
- Yes, it's still a secret!

- Promise you won't tell anyone?
- Swear to God!

London is in danger, John.

There's an imminent terrorist attack
and I need your help.

My help?

You have missed this, admit it.

The thrill of the chase,
the blood pumping through your veins,

just the two of us
against the rest of the world.

I don't understand. I said I'm sorry,
isn't that what you're supposed to do?

Gosh, you don't know anything
about human nature, do you?

Hmm, nature? No.

Human?

No.

I'll talk him round.

- You will?
- Oh, yeah.

Mary.

Can you believe his nerve?

I like him.

What?

I like him.

Those things will kill you.

Oh, you bastard!

It's time to come back.

You've been letting
things slide, Graham.

- Greg.
- Greg.

...with an anti-terrorism bill this important...

...the Government feels duty-bound
to push through the legislation

with all due exped...

Now, stay
exactly where you are.

Where are you?

Don't move.

Keep your eyes fixed on me.

What? What's happening?

What's going on?

Please, will you do this for me? Please.

Do what?

This phone call, it's my note.

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

Leave a note.

Leave a note when?

- Goodbye, John.
- No.

- Sherlock!
- O-ho!

What?

Are you out of your mind?

I don't see why not.

It's just as plausible
as some of your theories.

Look, if you're not going
to take it seriously, Laura, you can...

I do take it seriously.

I don't think we should wear hats.

I founded The Empty Hearse
so like-minded people could meet,

discuss theories!

Sherlock's still out there.
I'm convinced of it.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

"His movements were so silent,

so furtive, he reminded me of a trained
bloodhound picking out a scent."

You what?

"I couldn't help thinking
what an amazing criminal

he'd make if he turned
his talents against the law."

- Don't read that.
- Famous blog, finally.

- Come on, that's...
- Ancient history, yes, I know,

but it's not though, is it,
because he's...

What are you doing?

Having a wash.

You're shaving it off.

- Well, you hate it.
- Sherlock hates it.

- Apparently, everyone hates it.
- Oh?

Are you going to see him again?

No, I'm going to work.

Oh, and after work are you going
to see him again?

God, I had six months of bristly kisses
for me and then His Nibs turns up.

I don't shave for Sherlock Holmes.

Oh, you should put that on a T-shirt.

- Shut up.
- Or what?

Or I'll marry you.

London.
It's like a great cesspool

into which all kinds of criminals,

agents and drifters
are irresistibly drained.

Sometimes it's not a question of who,

it's a question of who knows.

If this man cancels his papers,
I need to know.

If this woman leaves London
without putting her dog into kennels,

I need to know.

Now, certain people, they are markers.

If they start to move,
I'll know something's up.

Like rats deserting a sinking ship.

All very interesting, Sherlock,

but the terror alert
has been raised to critical.

Boring. Your move.

We have solid information,
an attack is coming.

Solid information, a secret terrorist
organisation is planning an attack.

That's what secret terrorist
organisations do, isn't it?

It's their version of golf.

An agent gave his life to tell us that.

Oh, well, perhaps
he shouldn't have done.

He was obviously just trying
to show off.

None of these markers of yours
is behaving in any way suspiciously?

- Your move.
- No, Mycroft,

but you have to trust me.
I'll find the answer.

But it'll be in an odd phrase
in an online blog

or in an unexpected trip
to the countryside

or a misplaced lonely hearts ad.

Your move.

I've given the Prime Minister

my personal assurance
you're on the case.

I am on the case,
we're both on the case,

look at us right now.

- Oh, bugger!
- Oopsy.

Can't handle a broken heart.
How very telling.

- Don't be smart.
- That takes me back.

"Don't be smart, Sherlock,
I'm the smart one."

- I am the smart one.
- I used to think I was an idiot.

Both of us thought
you were an idiot, Sherlock.

We had nothing else to go on,
until we met other children.

Oh, yes, that was a mistake.

Ghastly. What were they thinking of?

Probably something about
trying to make friends.

Oh, yes.

"Friends". Of course, you go in
for that sort of thing now.

And you don't? Ever?

If you seem slow to me, Sherlock,

can you imagine
what real people are like?

I'm living in a world of goldfish.

- Yes, but I've been away for two years.
- So?

Oh, I don't know, I thought perhaps

you might have found yourself
a goldfish.

Change the subject, now.

Rest assured, Mycroft,

whatever this underground
network of yours is up to,

the secret will reside in something
seemingly insignificant or bizarre.

- Ooh-hoo.
- Speaking of which.

I can't believe it.

I just can't believe it!
Him sitting in his chair again.

Oh, isn't it wonderful, Mr Holmes?

- I can barely contain myself.
- Oh, he really can, you know.

He's secretly pleased to see you
underneath all that.

Sorry, which of us?

Both of you.

Let's play something different.

Why are we playing games?

London's terror alert
has been raised to critical,

I'm just passing the time.

Let's do deductions.

Client left this while
I was out, what do you reckon?

- I'm busy.
- Oh, go on, it's been an age.

- I always win.
- Which is why you can't resist.

I find nothing irresistible in the hat
of a well-travelled, anxious,

sentimental, unfit creature of habit
with appalling halitosis.

Damn!

Isolated, too, don't you think?

- Why would he be isolated?
- He?

- Obviously.
- Why? Size of the hat?

Don't be silly.
Some women have large heads, too.

No, he's recently had his hair cut,
you can see the little hairs

adhering to the perspiration stains
on the inside.

Some women have short hair, too.

Balance of probability.

Not that you've ever spoken
to a woman with short hair,

or, you know, a woman.

Stains show he's out of condition.

And he's sentimental because
the hat has been repaired three...

Five times. Very neatly.

The cost of the repairs exceeds
the cost of the hat,

so he's mawkishly attached to it.
But it's more than that.

One, perhaps two patches
would indicate sentimentality

but five? Five's obsessive behaviour.

- Obsessive-compulsive.
- Hardly. Your client left it behind.

What sort of an obsessive-compulsive
would do that?

The earlier patches are
extensively sun-bleached,

so he's worn it abroad, in Peru.

- Peru?
- This is a Chullo.

The classic headgear of Andes,
it's made of Alpaca.

- No. Icelandic sheep wool.
- No?

Similar but very distinctive,
if you know what you're looking for.

I've written a blog on the varying
tensile strengths

of different natural fibres.

I'm sure there's a crying need for that.

You said he was anxious?

The bobble on the left side
has been badly chewed,

which shows he's a man
of a nervous disposition but...

But also a creature of habit

because he hasn't chewed
the bobble on the right.

Precisely.

A brief sniff of the offending bobble
tells us everything

we need to know about
the state of his breath.

- Brilliant!
- Elementary.

But you've missed his isolation.

- I don't see it.
- Plain as day.

- Where?
- There for all to see.

- Tell me.
- Plain as the nose...

Tell me!

Well, anybody who wears a hat
as stupid as this

isn't in the habit of hanging
around other people, is he?

Not at all.

Maybe he just doesn't mind
being different.

He doesn't necessarily
have to be isolated.

Exactly.

I'm sorry?

He's different, so what?
Why would he mind?

You're quite right.

Why would anyone mind?

I'm not lonely, Sherlock.

How would you know?

Yes. Back to work, if you don't mind.

Good morning.

Right, back to work.

- Mr Summerson.
- Right.

- Undescended testicle.
- Right.

- Sherlock?
- Hmm?

Talk to John.

I've tried talking to him.
He made his position quite clear.

Just relax, Mr Summerson.

- What did he say?
- F...

- Cough.
- Oh, dear.

- Hi.
- Mrs Reeves. Thrush.

Right.

You wanted to see me?

Yes.

- Molly?
- Yes.

Would you...

- Would you like to solve crimes?
- Have dinner?

Um...

Absolutely nothing to
be ashamed of, Mrs Reeves.

It's very common, but I'm
recommending a course of...

Monkey glands, but enough
about Professor Presbury.

Tell us more about
your case, Mr Harcourt.

- You sure about this?
- Absolutely.

- Should I be making notes?
- If it makes you feel better.

It's just that
that's what John says he does.

- So if I'm being John...
- You're not being John,

you're being yourself.

Well, absolutely no one
should have been able to empty

that bank account other
than myself and Helen.

Why didn't you assume it was your wife?

Because I've always had
total faith in her.

No, it's because you emptied it.

Weight loss, hair dye, Botox, affair.

Lawyer. Next!

This is Mr Blake. Piles.

Mr Blake, hi.

And your pen-pal's emails
just stopped, did they?

And you really thought he
was the one, didn't you?

The love of your life?

Stepfather posing as online boyfriend.

- What?
- Breaks it off, breaks her heart.

She swears off relationships,
stays at home.

He still has her wage coming in.

Mr Windibank, you have
been a complete and utter...

Piss pot.

It's nothing to worry about,

just a small infection,
by the sound of it.

Uh, Dr Verner is your usual GP, yes?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
He looked after me, man and boy.

I run a little shop just on
the corner of Church Street.

- Oh.
- Magazines and DVDs.

I've brought along a few little beauties
that might interest you.

Tree Worshippers. Oh, that's a corker.

It's very saucy.

And British Birds.

- The same sort of thing.
- I'm fine, thanks.

The Holy War.

Sounds a bit dry, I know,

but there's a nun
with all these holes in her habit.

Jesus!

- Sherlock.
- What?

- What do you want?
- Huh?

Have you come to torment me?

What are you talking about?

"What are you talking?"

What, do you think I'm going
to be fooled by this bloody beard?

- You're crazy!
- No, no, no, no, no.

It's not as good as your French.

Not as good as your French.
It's not even a good disguise, Sherlock!

Where did you get it from,
a bloody joke shop?

Oh, my God! I... I am so sorry.

Oh, my God!

Please. It's fine.

- This one's got us all baffled.
- Hmm, I don't doubt it.

What is it?

You're onto something, aren't you?

Hmm, maybe.

- Show off!
- Shut up, John.

- What?
- Hmm?

Nothing.

- Hello.
- Hmm.

- You sure?
- I'm sure.

Okay. I'm late for Cath,
I'll see you later.

- Bye.
- Bye.

This going to be
your new arrangement, is it?

Just giving it a go.

Right. So, John?

Not really in the picture any more.

Trains?

Trains.

Male, 40 to 50.

- Oh, sorry, did you want to...
- Uh, no, please, be my guest.

- You jealous?
- Shut up!

- It doesn't make sense.
- What doesn't?

This skeleton,
it can't be any more than...

Six months old.

Wow!

- "How I Did It by Jack the Ripper."
- Mmm-hmm.

- That's impossible.
- Welcome to my world.

I won't insult your
intelligence by explaining it to you.

No, please, insult away.

You forgot to put your collar up.

The corpse is... is six months old.

It's dressed in a shoddy
Victorian outfit from a museum.

It's been displayed on
a dummy for many years,

in a case facing southeast,
judging from the fading of the fabric.

It was sold off in a fire
damage sale a week ago.

- So the whole thing was a fake?
- Yes.

- Looked so promising.
- Facile.

Why would someone
go to all that trouble?

Why indeed, John?

Mind the gap.

- Oh. Thanks for hanging onto it.
- No problem.

So, what's this all about, Mr Shilcott?

My girlfriend's
a big fan of yours.

Girlfriend?

Sorry. Do go on.

- I like trains.
- Yes.

I work on the Tube, on the District Line

and part of my job is to wipe
the security footage

after it's been cleared.

I was just whizzing through

and, uh, I found something
a bit bizarre.

Now, this was a week ago.

The last train on the Friday
night, Westminster Station.

Now, this man gets into the last car.

- Car?
- They're cars, not carriages.

It's a legacy of the early American
involvement in the Tube system.

He said he liked trains.

And the next stop,
St James's Park station.

And...

I thought you'd like it.

He gets into the last car
at Westminster, the only passenger,

and the car is empty
at St James's Park station.

Explain that, Mr Holmes.

Couldn't he have just jumped off?

There's a safety mechanism that prevents
the doors from opening in transit.

But there's something else. The driver
of that train hasn't been to work since.

According to his flatmate,
he's on holiday.

- Came into some money.
- Bought off?

Hmm?

So if the driver of the train
was in on it,

then the passenger did get off.

There's nowhere he could go.

It's a straight run on the District Line
between the two stations.

There's no side tunnels,
no maintenance tunnels.

Nothing on any map. Nothing.

The train never stops
and a man vanishes.

Good, innit?

I know that face.

Excuse you!

The journey between those
stations usually takes five minutes

and that journey took 10 minutes.

10 minutes to get from
Westminster to St James's Park.

So I'm going to need maps, lots of maps.
Older maps, all the maps.

Right.

- Fancy some chips?
- What?

I know a fantastic fish shop
just off the Marylebone Road,

the owner always
gives me extra portions.

Did you get him off a murder charge?

No, I helped him put up some shelves.

- Sherlock?
- Hmm?

- What was today about?
- Saying thank you.

- For what?
- For everything you did for me.

It's okay. It's my pleasure.

No. I mean it.

I don't mean pleasure,
I mean I didn't mind.

- I wanted to.
- Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake.

Because the one person he thought
didn't matter at all to me

was the one person
that mattered the most.

You made it all possible.

But you can't do this again, can you?

I had a lovely day.
I'd love to, I just, um...

And congratulations, by the way.

He's not from work.

We met through friends,
old-fashioned way.

He's nice, we... He's got a dog, we...
We go to the pub on weekends

and I've met his mum and dad
and his friends and all his family.

I've no idea
why I'm telling you any of this.

I hope you'll be very happy,
Molly Hooper.

You deserve it.

After all, not all the men you fall for
can turn out to be sociopaths.

- No?
- No.

Maybe it's just my type.

Oh, Mrs Hudson. Sorry,
I think someone's got John.

- John Watson?
- Hang on, who are you?

- Oh, I'm his fiancée.
- Oh!

Mary? What's wrong?

Someone sent me this.

At first I thought it was just a Bible
thing, you know, spam, but it's not.

It's a skip code.

First word, then every third.
"Save John Watson".

Now.

- Where are we going?
- St James The Less,

it's a church.

Twenty minutes by car.

- Did you drive here?
- Yes.

It's too slow, it's too slow.

Sherlock, what are we waiting for?

This.

What does it mean?
What are they going to do to him?

I don't know.

Damn!

Oi! Oi! You can't go down there!

No, it's not going to work. Bit damp.

I'll get something to help it along,
yeah?

Help! Ah!

- He doesn't like it, Daddy.
- Huh?

- Guy Fawkes, he doesn't like it.
- Stay back, Zoe.

Back! Now.

What does it mean?

Oh, my God!

Help!

Stand back!

Move! Move! Move! Move!

- John!
- John!

John! John!

Get up, John!

- John? John?
- Help!

John!

John? John?

- John!
- John?

It wasn't
where I'd put it at all. Silly woman.

Anyway, it was then that I first
noticed it was missing.

I said, "Have you checked down
the back of the sofa?"

He's always losing things down
the back of the sofa, aren't you, dear?

- Afraid so.
- Oh, keys,

small change, sweeties.

- Especially his glasses.
- Glasses.

Blooming things. I said,
"Why don't you get a chain,

wear 'em round your neck?"
And he says, "What?

- "Like Larry Grayson?"
- Larry Grayson?

So did you find it eventually,
your lottery ticket?

Well, yes, thank goodness. We caught
the coach on time after all.

We managed to see St Paul's, the Tower,

but they weren't
letting anyone into Parliament.

Some big debate going on.

- John.
- Sorry, you're busy.

- No, no, no, they were just leaving.
- No, oh, were we?

- Yes.
- No, no, if you've got a case...

No, not a case, no, no, no. Yeah, go.

Yeah, well, we're here
till Saturday, remember.

- Yes, great, wonderful. Just get out.
- Yes, well, give us a ring.

Very nice, yes, good. Get out.

I can't tell you how
glad we are, Sherlock.

All that time,
people thinking the worst of you.

We're just so pleased it's all over.

Ring up more often, won't you?

Mmm-hmm.

- She worries.
- Promise.

Promise. Oh, for God's...

- Sorry about that.
- No, it's fine.

- Clients?
- Just my parents.

- Your parents?
- In town for a few days.

- Your parents?
- Mycroft promised to take them

to a matinee of Les Mis.
Tried to talk me into doing it.

- Those were your parents?
- Yes.

- Well. That is not what I...
- What?

I mean, they're just so...

ordinary.

It's a cross I have to bear.

- Did they know, too?
- Hmm?

That you've spent the last two years
playing hide-and-seek?

- Maybe.
- Ah, so that's why

- they weren't at the funeral!
- Sorry, sorry again.

Sorry.

So you've shaved it off, then?

Yeah. Wasn't working for me.

- I'm glad.
- You didn't like it?

No, I prefer my doctors clean-shaven.

That's not a sentence
you hear every day.

- How are you feeling?
- Yeah, not bad. Bit smoked.

Right.

Last night, who did that?

- And why did they target me?
- I don't know.

Is it someone trying to get
to you through me?

Is it something to do with this
terrorist thing you talked about?

I don't know, I can't see the pattern.
It's too nebulous.

Why would an agent give his life to tell
us something incredibly insignificant?

- That's what's strange.
- Give his life?

According to Mycroft.

There's an underground network planning
an attack on London, that's all we know.

- These are my rats, John.
- Rats?

My markers, agents, low-lifes.

People who might find
themselves arrested

or their diplomatic immunity
suddenly rescinded.

If one of them starts acting
suspiciously, we know something's up.

Five of them are behaving perfectly
normally but the sixth...

I know him, don't I?

Lord Moran, Peer of the Realm.
Minister for Overseas Development.

- Pillar of the Establishment.
- Yes.

He's been working for
North Korea since 1996.

- What?
- He's the big rat, rat number one.

He's just done something
very suspicious indeed.

Yeah, that's odd.

There's nowhere he could have got off?

- Not according to the maps.
- Hmm.

There's something, something,
something I'm missing.

Something staring me in the face.

Any idea who they are,
this underground network?

Intelligence must have a list
of the most obvious ones.

Our rat's just come out of his den.

Al Qaeda? The IRA have been
getting restless again,

- maybe they're going to make...
- Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

- I've been an idiot, a blind idiot!
- What?

Oh, that's good.
That could be brilliant!

What are you on about?

Mycroft's intelligence
is not nebulous at all,

- it's specific, incredibly specific.
- What do you mean?

It's not an underground network,
John, it's an Underground network!

Right. What?

Sometimes a deception is so audacious,
so outrageous

that you can't see it even when
it's staring you in the face.

Look, seven carriages leave Westminster.

Hmm.

And only six carriages arrive
at St James's Park.

Ah, but that's...
I mean, it's impossible.

Moran didn't disappear.
The entire Tube compartment did.

The driver must have diverted the train
and then detached the last carriage.

Detached it where?

You said there was nothing
between those stations.

Not on the maps, but once you
eliminate all the other factors,

the only thing remaining
must be the truth.

That carriage vanished,
so it must be somewhere.

But why, though?
Why detach it in the first place?

It vanishes between St James's Park
and Westminster.

Lord Moran vanishes.

You're kidnapped and nearly burnt
to death at a fireworks party...

What's the date, John, today's date?

Hmm? November... My God!

Lord Moran, he's a Peer of the Realm.

Normally he'd sit in the House.

Tonight there's an all-night sitting to
vote on the new anti-terrorism bill.

But he won't be there, not tonight.

Not the 5th of November.

- "Remember, remember."
- "Gunpowder, treason and plot!"

There's nothing down there, Mr Holmes,

I told you. No sidings,
no ghost stations.

There has to be, check again.

This whole area is a big mess
of old and new stuff.

Charing Cross is made up
of bits of older stations,

like Trafalgar Square, Strand.

No, it's none of those,
we've accounted for those.

St Margaret Street, Bridge Street,
Sumatra Road, Parliament Street...

Hang on, hang on, Sumatra Road.

You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr Holmes.

There is something,
I knew it rang a bell!

Yes. There was a station down there.

Well, why isn't it on the maps?

Because it was closed
before it ever opened.

- What?
- They built the platforms,

even the staircases,

but it all got tied up in legal disputes

so they never built
the station on the surface.

It's right underneath
the Palace of Westminster.

So what's down there, a bomb?

Oh.

With many commentators
saying the vote on the Terrorism Bill

will be too close to call,
MPs are now making their way

into the Chamber for what
the Government is calling

the most important vote
of this Parliament.

- Over now to our...
- What freedoms exactly

are we protecting if we start
spying on our own people?

This is an Orwellian measure
on a scale unprecedented...

So it's a bomb, then? The Tube
carriage is carrying a bomb?

- Must be.
- Right.

- What are you doing?
- I'm calling the police.

What? No!

Sherlock, this isn't a game,
they need to evacuate Parliament.

They'll get in the way, they always do.

This is cleaner, more efficient.

- And illegal.
- A bit.

- What are you doing?
- Coming.

- I don't understand.
- Well, that's a first.

There's nowhere else it could be.

What?

- Hang on. Sherlock?
- What?

That's... Isn't it live?

Perfectly safe as long as
we avoid touching the rails.

Of course, yeah, avoid the rails.

- Great.
- This way.

- Are you sure?
- Sure.

Uh, look at that.

- John.
- Hmm?

Demolition charges.

It's empty. There's nothing.

Isn't there?

- This is the bomb.
- What?

It's not carrying explosives,

the whole compartment is the bomb.

We need bomb disposal.

There may not be time for that now.

- So what do we do?
- I have no idea.

- Well, think of something.
- Why do you think I know what to do?

Because you're Sherlock Holmes,
you're as clever as it gets.

It doesn't mean I know
how to diffuse a giant bomb.

- What about you?
- I wasn't in bomb disposal,

I'm a bloody doctor!

And a soldier, as you keep
reminding us all!

Can't... Can't we rip the timer off
or something?

- That would set it off.
- You see? You know things!

Oh!

Uh... My God!

Uh...

Why didn't you call the police?

- Can you just...
- Why do you never call the police?

Well, it's no use now.

So you can't switch the bomb off?

You can't switch the bomb off
and you didn't call the police!

Go, John. Go now!

There's no point now, is there, because
there's not enough time to get away

and if we don't do this,
other people will die!

- Mind palace!
- Hmm?

- Use your mind palace!
- How will that help?

You've salted away
every fact under the sun!

Oh, what, and you think I've
just got "how to defuse a bomb"

- tucked away in there somewhere?
- Yes!

Maybe.

Think! Think, please think.

- Think!
- Mmm...

I can't!

Oh, my God!

This is it.

Um, uh...

Oh, my God.

Turn that off. Oh God! Uh, um, uh...

Uh...

Uh, uh...

- I'm sorry.
- What?

I can't... I can't do it, John.

I don't know how.

Forgive me.

- What?
- Please, John, forgive me

for all the hurt that I caused you.

No, no, no, no, no, no, this is a trick.

No.

- Another one of your bloody tricks.
- No.

You're just trying to make me
say something nice.

- Not this time.
- It's just to make you look good

even though you've behaved like...

I wanted you not to be dead.

Yeah, well, be careful
what you wish for.

If I hadn't come back,
you wouldn't be standing there and...

- you'd still have a future with Mary.
- Yeah, I know.

Look, I find it difficult,
I find it difficult, this sort of stuff.

I know.

You were the best and the wisest
man that I have ever known.

Yes, of course I forgive you.

The criminal network
Moriarty headed was vast.

Its roots were everywhere, like a
cancer, so we came up with a plan.

Mycroft fed Moriarty
information about me.

Moriarty, in turn, gave us hints,

just hints as to the extent of his web.

We let him go,

because it was important to let him
believe he had the upper hand.

And then I sat back and watched Moriarty

destroy my reputation, bit by bit.

I had to make him
believe he'd beaten me,

utterly defeated me,
then he'd show his hand.

There were 13 likely scenarios
once we were up on that roof.

Each of them were rigorously
worked out and given a code name.

It wasn't just my reputation that
Moriarty needed to bury. I had to die.

Sherlock!

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...
- I kill myself

and complete your story.

You've got to admit that's sexier.

But the one thing I didn't
anticipate was just how far

Moriarty was prepared to go.

I suppose that was obvious, given our
first meeting at the swimming pool.

His death wish.

I knew I didn't have long. I contacted
my brother, set the wheels in motion.

And then everyone got to work.

It's a trick.
It's just a magic trick.

All right, stop it now.

Now,
stay exactly where you are.

Don't move!

All right.

Keep your eyes fixed on me.

Please, will you do this for me?

It was vital that John
stayed just where I'd put him

and that way his view was
blocked by the ambulance station.

Sherlock!

I needed to hit the air bag,
which I did.

Speed was paramount.

The air bag needed to be got out of the
way just as John cleared the station.

But we needed him to see a body.

That's where Molly came in.

Like figures on a weather clock,
we went one way,

John went the other.

Then our well-timed cyclist...

...put John briefly out of action,

giving me time to switch places
with the corpse on the pavement.

The rest was just window dressing.

And one final touch, a squash ball
under the armpit.

Apply enough pressure and it
momentarily cuts off the pulse.

Let me come through, please!

- It's all right.
- No, he's my friend.

- It's all right.
- No, he's my friend.

- It's all right, it's all right.
- He's my friend, please.

Everything was anticipated,
every eventuality allowed for.

It worked perfectly.

Molly. Molly Hooper? She was in on it?

Yes. You remember the little girl
who was abducted by Moriarty?

Get out!

You assumed she reacted like
that because I was her kidnapper.

But I deduced Moriarty must have found
someone who looked very like me

to plant suspicion and that that man,
whoever he was,

had to be got out of the way
as soon as his usefulness ended.

That meant there was a corpse
in the morgue somewhere

that looked just like me.

Clever.

Molly found the body, faked the records
and I provided the other coat.

I've got lots of coats.

What about
the sniper aiming at John?

Mycroft's men intervened
before he could take the shot.

He was invited to reconsider.

Is it done? Good.

And your homeless network?

As I explained, the whole street was
closed off. Like a scene from a play.

- Neat, don't you think?
- Hmm.

- What?
- Not the way I'd have done it.

Oh, really?

No, I'm not saying
it's not clever but...

What?

Bit disappointed.

Oh, everyone's a critic.

- Anyway, that's not why I came.
- No?

No, I think you know
why I'm here, Phillip.

How I Did It by Jack the Ripper?

Didn't you think it was intriguing?

Lurid. A case so sensational
you hoped I'd be interested.

But you overdid it, Phillip,
you and your little fan club.

I just couldn't live with myself,
knowing that I'd driven you to...

But you didn't. You were always right,
I wasn't dead.

No. No, and everything's
okay now, isn't it?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

Though of course
you've wasted police time.

Perverted the course of justice.

Risked distracting me
from a massive terrorist assault

that could have both destroyed
Parliament and caused the death

- of hundreds of people.
- Oh, God!

Oh, God, I'm sorry, Sherlock!
I'm so sorry.

Hang on.

That doesn't make sense.

How could you be sure
John would stand on that exact spot?

I mean, what if he'd moved?

And how did you do it all so quickly?

What if the bike hadn't hit him?

And anyway, why are you telling
me all this?

If you'd pulled that off,

I'm the last person you'd
tell the truth...

Sherlock Holmes!

Sherlock!

- You...
- Oh, your face!

- ...utter...
- Your face!

- You!
- I totally had you.

You cock! I knew it! I knew it! You...

Oh, those things you said, such sweet
things. I never knew you cared.

You know, I will kill you
if you ever breathe a word of this...

- Scout's honour.
- ...to anyone! You knew!

- You knew how to turn it off!
- There's an off switch.

There's always an off switch.

Terrorists can get into all sorts of
problems unless there's an off switch.

So why did you let me
go through all that?

I didn't lie altogether.

I've absolutely no idea how to turn any
of these silly little lights off.

- And you did call the police?
- Of course I called the police.

- I'm definitely going to kill you.
- Oh, please.

Killing me, that's so two years ago.

Do you hear the people sing?

Sherlock, please, I beg of you.

You can take over at the interval.

Oh, I'm sorry brother, dear,
but you made a promise.

Nothing I can do to help.

But you don't understand
the pain of it, the horror.

Come on, you'll have to go down,
they want the story.

In a minute.

Oh, I'm really pleased, Mary.
Have you set a date?

Well, we thought May.

- Ah, a spring wedding.
- Yeah.

- Well, once we've actually got engaged.
- Yeah.

- We were interrupted last time.
- Yeah.

- Well, I can't wait.
- You will be there, Sherlock?

Weddings, not really my thing.

- Hello, everyone.
- Hello, Molly.

This is Tom. Tom, this is everyone.

- Hi.
- Hi.

It's really nice to meet you all. Hi.

Wow! Yeah, hi, I'm John,
good to meet you.

- Ready?
- Ready.

Champagne?

Yes.

Thanks.

Thank you.

- Sit down, love.
- Oh, thanks.

So, um, is it serious, you two?

Yeah. I've moved on.

Did you, uh...

- I'm not saying a word.
- No, best not.

- But I'm still waiting.
- Hmm?

Why did they try and kill me?

If they knew you were
onto them, why come after me?

- Put me in a bonfire?
- I don't know.

I don't like not knowing.

Unlike the nicely embellished fictions
on your blog, John,

real life is rarely so neat.

I don't know who was behind all this
but I will find out, I promise you.

- Don't pretend you're not enjoying this.
- Hmm?

Being back. Being a hero again.

- Oh, don't be stupid.
- You'd have to be an idiot

not to see it. You love it.

Love what?

Being Sherlock Holmes.

I don't even know
what that's supposed to mean.

Sherlock, you are going
to tell me how you did it?

How you jumped off that
building and survived?

You know my methods, John.
I am known to be indestructible.

No, but seriously. When you were
dead, I went to your grave.

- I should hope so.
- I made a little speech.

I actually spoke to you.

I know. I was there.

I asked you for one more miracle.

I asked you to stop being dead.

I heard you.

Anyway, time to go and be
Sherlock Holmes.

John!

John!

John!

John!

John!