All language subtitles for S.S01E01.A.Study.in.Pink.1080p.NF.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

How's your blog going?

Yeah, good.
Very good.

You haven't written a word,
have you?

You just wrote,
"Still has trust issues."

And you read
my writing upside down.

You see what I mean?

John,

you're a soldier

and it's going to
take you a while
to adjust to civilian life.

And writing a blog
about everything
that happens to you

will honestly help you.

Nothing happens to me.

What do you mean
there's no ruddy car?

He went to Waterloo,
I'm sorry.

- Get a cab!
- I never get cabs!

- I love you.
- When?

Get a cab!

"My husband

"was a happy man
who lived life to the full.

"He loved his family
and his work.

"And that he should have
taken his own life in this way

"is a mystery and a shock

"to all who knew him."

Yes, yes, taxi.

Ah!

- I'll be back in
two minutes, mate.
- What?

I'm just going home
to get my umbrella.

You can share mine.

Two minutes, all right?

She still dancing?

Yeah, if you can call it that.

Did you get
the car keys off her?

Got them
out of her bag.

Where is she?

The body
of Beth Davenport,
Junior Minister for Transport,

was found late last night
on a building site
in Greater London.

Preliminary investigations
suggest that this was suicide.

We can confirm that
this apparent suicide

closely resembles
those of Sir Jeffrey Patterson
and James Phillimore.

In the light of this,
these incidents are now
being treated as linked.

The investigation is ongoing,

but Detective Inspector
Lestrade will take
questions now.

Detective Inspector,
how can suicides be linked?

Well, they all took
the same poison.

Um, they were all found
in places they had
no reason to be.

None of them had shown
any prior intentions...

But you can't have
serial suicides.

Well, apparently you can.

These three people,
there's nothing
that links them?

There's no link
we've found yet but...

We're looking for it.
There has to be one.

- If you've all got texts,
please ignore them.
- It just says "Wrong."

Yeah, well, just ignore that.

If there are no more questions
for Detective Inspector
Lestrade,

I'm going to bring
this session to an end.

If they're suicides,
what are you investigating?

As I say, these suicides
are clearly linked. Um...

It's an unusual situation,
we've got our
best people investigating.

It says "wrong" again.

One more question.
Is there any chance
that these are murders?

And if they are, is this
the work of a serial killer?

I... I know that you'd like
writing about these,

but these
do appear to be suicides.

We know the difference.
The poison was
clearly self-administered.

Yes, but if they are murders,
how do people
keep themselves safe?

Well, don't commit suicide.

Daily Mail.

Obviously, this is
a frightening time for people,

but all anyone has to do
is exercise reasonable
precautions.

We are all as safe
as we want to be.

Thank you.

You've got to stop him
doing that. He's making us
look like idiots.

If you can tell me
how he does it,
I'll stop him.

John! John Watson!

Stamford, Mike Stamford.
We were at Barts together.

Yes, sorry, yes, Mike, hello.

- Yeah, I know, I got fat.
- No, no.

I heard you were abroad
somewhere getting shot at.
What happened?

I got shot.

Hmm. Ah.

Are you still at Barts then?

Teaching now.
Yeah, bright young things
like we used to be.

God, I hate them.

What about you, just staying
in town till you get
yourself sorted?

I can't afford London
on an Army pension.

And you couldn't bear to be
anywhere else. That's not
the John Watson I know.

Yeah, I'm not the John Watson.

Couldn't Harry help?

Yeah,
like that's gonna happen.

I don't know,
get a flat share or something?

Come on, who'd want me
for a flatmate?

- What?
- You're the second person
to say that to me today.

Who was the first?

- How fresh?
-Just in.

67, natural causes.

Used to work here.
I knew him, he was nice.

Fine.

We'll start with
the riding crop.

So, bad day was it?

I need to know what bruises
form in the next 20 minutes.

A man's alibi depends on it.
Text me.

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

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

I, uh...
I refreshed it a bit.

Sorry, you were saying?

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

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

Okay.

Bit different from my day.

Oh, you've no idea!

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

And what's wrong
with the landline?

I prefer to text.

Sorry, it's in my coat.

Uh, here, use mine.

Oh, thank you.

This is an old friend of mine,
John Watson.

Afghanistan or Iraq?

Sorry?

Which was it,
Afghanistan or Iraq?

Afghanistan. Sorry,
how did you know...

Ah, Molly! Coffee, thank you.

What happened to the lipstick?

- It wasn't working for me.
- Really?

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

Okay.

How do you feel
about the violin?

Sorry, what?

I play the violin when
I'm thinking and sometimes
I don't talk for days on end.

Would that bother you?

Potential flatmates
should know the worst
about each other.

- You told him about me?
- Not a word.

Who said anything
about flatmates?

I did. I told Mike
this morning that
I must be a difficult man

to find a flatmate for.

Now here he is, just
after lunch with an old friend

clearly just home
from military service
in Afghanistan.

Wasn't a difficult leap.

How did you know
about Afghanistan?

Got my eye on
a nice little place
in Central London.

Together we ought
to be able to afford it.

We'll meet there tomorrow
evening, 7:00.

Sorry, got to dash.
I think I left my riding crop
in the mortuary.

Is that it?

Is that what?

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

Problem?

We don't know
a thing about each other.

I don't know
where we're meeting,
I don't even know your name.

I know you're an Army doctor.
And you've been invalided
home from Afghanistan.

I know you've got a brother
who's worried about you

but you won't go to him
for help 'cause you don't
approve of him,

possibly because
he's an alcoholic

and more likely because
he recently walked out
on his wife.

And I know that your therapist
thinks your limp's
psychosomatic,

quite correctly, I'm afraid.

That's enough to be going
on with, don't you think?

The name's Sherlock Holmes
and the address
is 221B Baker Street.

Afternoon.

Yeah, he's always like that.

Hello.

- Ah, Mr Holmes.
- Sherlock, please.

Well, this is a prime spot.
Must be expensive.

Oh, Mrs Hudson, the landlady,
she's given me a special deal.

Owes me a favour.

Few years back, her husband
got himself sentenced to
death in Florida.

I was able to help out.

Sorry, you stopped her husband
being executed?

Oh, no, I ensured it.

Sherlock!

Mrs Hudson, Dr John Watson.

- Hello. Come in.
- Hello. Thank you.

- Shall we?
- Yeah.

Well, this could be very nice.

Very nice indeed.

Yes.

Yes, I think so,
my thoughts precisely.

So I went straight ahead
and moved in.
- Soon as we get all this

- rubbish cleaned out.
- Oh.

So this is all...

Well, obviously I can, um,
straighten things up a bit.

- That's a skull.
- Friend of mine.

When I say friend...

What do you think,
then, Dr Watson?

There's another bedroom
upstairs, if you'll be needing
two bedrooms.

Of course
we'll be needing two.

Oh, don't worry,
there's all sorts round here.

Mrs Turner next door's
got married ones.

Oh. Sherlock,

the mess you've made.

I looked you up on
the Internet last night.

Anything interesting?

Found your website.
The Science of Deduction.

What did you think?

You said you could identify
a software designer by his tie

and an airline pilot
by his left thumb?

Yes.

And I can read
your military career
in your face and your leg,

and your brother's drinking
habits on your mobile phone.

How?

What about these suicides
then, Sherlock?

I thought that'd be
right up your street.

Three exactly the same.

Four.

There's been a fourth.
And there's something
different this time.

A fourth?

- Where?
- Brixton, Lauriston Gardens.

What's new about this one?
You wouldn't have
come to get me

if it wasn't
something different.

- You know how
they never leave notes?
- Yeah.

This one did.
Will you come?

- Who's on Forensics?
- It's Anderson.

Anderson won't work with me.

- Well, he won't
be your assistant.
- I need an assistant.

- Will you come?
- Not in a police car,
I'll be right behind.

Thank you.

Brilliant! Yes!

Ah! Four serial suicides,
and now a note.

Oh, it's Christmas.
Mrs Hudson, I'll be late.
Might need some food.

I'm your landlady, dear,
not your housekeeper.

Something cold will do.

John, have a cup of tea,
make yourself at home.

Don't wait up!

Look at him, dashing about...

My husband was just the same.

But you're more
the sitting-down type,
I can tell.

I'll make you that cuppa,
you rest your leg.

Damn my leg!
Sorry, I'm so sorry.

It's just sometimes
this bloody thing...

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

Cup of tea would be lovely.
Thank you.

Just this once, dear,
I'm not your housekeeper.

Couple of biscuits too,
if you've got 'em.

Not your housekeeper!

You're a doctor.

In fact,
you're an Army doctor.

Yes.

Any good?

Very good.

Seen a lot of injuries, then.
Violent deaths.

Well, yes.

- Bit of trouble too, I bet?
- Of course. Yes.

Enough for a lifetime,
far too much.

- Want to see some more?
- Oh, God, yes.

Sorry, Mrs Hudson,
I'll skip the tea. Off out.

Both of you?

Impossible suicides?
Four of them?

There's no point sitting at
home when there's finally
something fun going on!

Look at you, all happy.
It's not decent.

Who cares about decent?

The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!

Taxi!

- Okay, you've got questions.
- Yeah, where are we going?

Crime scene. Next?

- Who are you, what do you do?
- What do you think?

- I'd say private detective.
- But?

But the police don't go
to private detectives.

I'm a consulting detective.

- Only one in the world,
I invented the job.
- What does that mean?

Means when the police
are out of their depth,
which is always,

they consult me.

The police don't
consult amateurs.

When I met you
for the first time yesterday,
I said Afghanistan or Iraq.

- You look surprised.
- Yes, how did you know?

I didn't know, I saw.

Your haircut,
the way you hold yourself
says military.

And your conversation
as you entered the room...

Bit different from my day.

...Said trained at Barts,
so Army doctor, obvious.

Your face is tanned

but no tan above the wrists.
You've been abroad,
but not sunbathing.

Your limp's really bad
when you walk, but you don't
ask for a chair when you stand

like you've forgotten
about it,

so it's at least partly
psychosomatic.

That says the original
circumstances of the injury
were traumatic,

wounded in action then.
Wounded in action, sun tan...

Afghanistan or Iraq.

You said I had a therapist.

You've got a psychosomatic
limp, of course you've
got a therapist.

- Then there's your brother.
- Hmm?

Your phone. It's expensive,
e-mail enabled, MP3 player.

And you're looking
for a flatshare. You wouldn't
waste money on this.

It's a gift, then.

Scratches.
Not one, many over time,

it's been in the same pocket
as keys and coins.

The man sitting next to me
wouldn't treat his one luxury
item like this,

so it's had a previous owner.

Next bit's easy.
You know it already.

- The engraving?
- "Harry Watson."

Clearly a family member
who's given you his old phone.

Not your father,
this is a young man's gadget.

Could be a cousin,
but you're a war hero who
can't find a place to live.

Unlikely you've got
an extended family, certainly
not one you're close to.

So brother it is.
Now, Clara, who's Clara?

Three kisses says
it's a romantic attachment.

The expense of the phone
says wife, not girlfriend.

Must have given it
to him recently.

This model's only
six months old.

Marriage in trouble then,
six months on
he's just given it away.

If she'd left him,
he would have kept it.
People do. Sentiment.

No,
he wanted rid of it.
He left her.

He gave the phone to you.
That says he wants you
to stay in touch.

You're looking for
cheap accommodation

and you're not going
to your brother for help.

That says you've got
problems with him.

Maybe you liked his wife.

Maybe you don't
like his drinking.

How can you possibly know
about the drinking?

Shot in the dark.
Good one, though.

Power connection,
tiny little scuff marks
around the edge of it.

Every night he goes
to plug it in to charge
but his hands are shaking.

You never see those marks
on a sober man's phone,

never see a drunks'
without them.

There you go.
See, you were right.

I was right?
Right about what?

The police
don't consult amateurs.

That

was amazing.

- You think so?
- Of course it was.

It was extraordinary.
It was quite extraordinary.

That's not what
people normally say.

What do people
normally say?

Piss off!

Did I get anything wrong?

Harry and me don't get on,
never have.

Clara and Harry split up
three months ago

and they're getting a divorce,

and Harry is a drinker.

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

Harry's short for Harriet.

Harry's your sister.

Look, what exactly am I
supposed to be doing here?

Sister!

No, seriously,
what am I doing here?

There's always something.

- Hello, freak!
- I'm here to see
Detective Inspector Lestrade.

Why?

I was invited.

- Why?
- I think he wants me
to take a look.

- Well, you know what I think,
don't you?
- Always, Sally.

I even know you didn't
make it home last night.

I don't... Who's this?

Colleague of mine, Dr Watson.

Dr Watson,
Sergeant Sally Donovan.

Old friend.

A colleague?
How do you get a colleague?

Did he follow you home?

- Would it be better
if I just waited...
- No.

Freak's here. Bringing him in.

Ah, Anderson.
Here we are again.

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

Quite clear.

And is your wife
away for long?

Oh, don't pretend
you worked that out.
Somebody told you that.

Your deodorant told me that.

- My deodorant?
- It's for men.

Well, of course
it's for men.
I'm wearing it.

So's Sergeant Donovan.

Ooh...
I think it just vaporised.
May I go in?

Whatever you're
trying to imply...

I'm not implying anything.

I'm sure Sally came round
for a nice little chat,

and just happened
to stay over.

And I assume she scrubbed
your floors, going by
the state of her knees.

You'll need to wear
one of these.

Who's this?

He's with me.

- But who is he?
- I said he's with me.

Aren't you going
to put one on?

- So where are we?
- Upstairs.

I can give you two minutes.

May need longer.

Her name's Jennifer Wilson
according to her credit cards,

we're running them now
for contact details.

Hasn't been here long.

Some kids found her.

Shut up.

- I didn't say anything.
- You were thinking.
It's annoying.

Got anything?

Not much.

She's German.

Rache.
It's German for "revenge."

She could be trying
to tell us something...

Yes, thank you for your input.

-So she's German?
- Of course she's not.

She's from out of town though.

Intended to stay in London
for one night

before returning
home to Cardiff.

So far, so obvious.

- Sorry, obvious?
- What about
the message though?

Dr Watson, what do you think?

- Of the message?
- Of the body.
You're a medical man.

We have a whole
team right outside.

- They won't work with me.
I'm breaking every rule
- letting you in here...

Yes, because you need me.

Yes, I do.

God help me.

- Dr Watson!
- Hmm?

Oh, do as he says.
Help yourself.

Anderson, keep everyone out
for a couple of minutes.

- Well?
- What am I doing here?

Helping me make a point.

I'm supposed
to be helping you
pay the rent.

Yeah, well, this is more fun.

Fun? There's
a woman lying dead.

Perfectly sound analysis,
but I was hoping
you'd go deeper.

Yeah...

Asphyxiation, probably.

Passed out,
choked on her own vomit.

Can't smell
any alcohol on her.

It could have been a seizure.
Possibly drugs.

You know what it was,
you've read the papers.

Well, she's one
of the suicides.
The fourth?

Sherlock, two minutes, I said,
I need anything you got.

Victim is in her late 30s.
Professional person,
going by her clothes.

I'm guessing
something in the media,

going by the frankly
alarming shade of pink.

Travelled from Cardiff today

intending to stay in
London one night.

It's obvious from
the size of her suitcase.

- Suitcase?
- Suitcase, yes.

She's been married
at least 10 years,
but not happily.

She's had a string of lovers
but none of them knew
she was married.

Oh, for God's sake,
if you're just
making this up...

Her wedding ring.
Ten years old at least.

The rest of her jewellery
has been regularly cleaned,
but not her wedding ring.

State of her marriage
right there.

The inside
is shinier than the outside.

That means it's
regularly removed.

The only polishing it
gets is when she
works it off her finger.

It's not for work,
look at her nails.

She doesn't work
with her hands

so what or rather who
does she remove
her rings for?

Clearly not one lover,
she'd never
sustain the fiction

of being single over
that amount of time,

so more likely
a string of them.
Simple.

Brilliant.

- Sorry.
- Cardiff?

It's obvious, isn't it?

It's not obvious to me.

Dear God, what is it like
in your funny little brains,
it must be so boring.

Her coat.
It's slightly damp.

She's been in heavy
rain the last few hours.

No rain anywhere in London
in that time.

Under her coat collar
is damp too.

She's turned it up
against the wind.

She's got an umbrella in her
left hand pocket
but it's dry and unused.

Not just wind, strong wind,
too strong to
use her umbrella.

We know from her suitcase
that she was intending
to stay overnight

so she must have come
a decent distance,

but she can't have
travelled more
than two or three hours

because her coat
still hasn't dried.

So, where has there been
heavy rain and strong wind

within the radius
of that travel time?

Cardiff.

- Fantastic.
- Do you know you
do that out loud?

- Sorry, I'll shut up.
- No, it's... fine.

- Why do you keep
saying suitcase?
- Yes, where is it?

She must have had a phone
or an organiser.

- Find out who Rachel is.
- She was writing Rachel?

No, she was leaving
an angry note in German.

Of course she was
writing Rachel,
no other word it can be.

Question is, why did she wait
until she was dying
to write it?

How do you know
she had a suitcase?

Back of her right leg.

Tiny splash marks
on the right heel and calf
not present on the left.

She was dragging
a wheeled suitcase behind her
with her right hand.

Don't get that splash pattern
any other way.

Smallish case,
going by the spread.

Case that size,
woman this clothes-conscious,

could only be an overnight
bag so we know
she was staying one night.

Where is it,
what have you done with it?

There wasn't a case.

Say that again.

There wasn't a case.
There was never any suitcase.

Suitcase!
Did anyone find a suitcase?

Was there a suitcase
in this house?

Sherlock,
there's no case!

But they take
the poison themselves.

They chew,
swallow the pills themselves.

There are clear signs,
even you lot
couldn't miss them.

Right, yeah, thanks. And?

It's murder, all of them.
I don't know how.

But they're not suicides.
They're killings,
serial killings.

We've got a serial killer.
Love those.

There's always something
to look forward to.

- Why are you saying that?
- Her case!

Come on, where is her case?
Did she eat it?

Someone else was here,
and they took her case.

So the killer must have
driven here.

Forgot the case
was in the car.

She could have
checked into a hotel,
left her case there.

No, she never
got to the hotel.
Look at her hair.

She colour-coordinates
her lipstick and her shoes.

She'd never have left
any hotel with her
hair still looking...

Oh...

Oh!

- Sherlock?
- What is it, what?

Serial killers, always hard.

You have to wait for them
to make a mistake.

- We can't just wait!
- Oh, we're done waiting.
Look at her, really look!

Houston, we have a mistake.
Get on to Cardiff.

Find out who
Jennifer Wilson's
family and friends were.

Find Rachel!

Of course, yeah,
but what mistake?

Pink!

Let's get on with it.

- He's gone.
- Who, Sherlock Holmes?

Yeah, he just took off.
He does that.

- Is he coming back?
- Didn't look like it.

Right.

Right.

Yes. Sorry, where am I?

Brixton.

Uh... Do you know
where I could get a cab?

It's just uh...

Well...

My leg.

Uh...

Try the main road.

Thanks.

But you're not his friend.

He doesn't have friends.

So who are you?

I'm... I'm nobody.
I just met him.

A bit of advice then.
Stay away from that guy.

Why?

You know why he's here?

He's not paid or anything.

He likes it.
He gets off on it.

The weirder the crime,
the more he gets off.
And you know what?

One day just showing up
won't be enough.

One day we'll be standing
round a body

and Sherlock Holmes
will be the one
that put it there.

- Why would he do that?
- Because he's a psychopath.

Psychopaths get bored.

-Donovan!
- Coming.

Stay away from
Sherlock Holmes.

Taxi! Taxi!

Hello?

There is a security
camera on the building
to your left.

Do you see it?

Who's this?

Who's speaking?

Do you see the camera,
Dr Watson?

- Yeah, I see it.
- Watch...

There is another camera
on the building opposite you.
Do you see it?

Mmm-hmm.

And finally, at the top of
the building on your right.

How are you doing this?

Get into the car,
Dr Watson.

I would make
some sort of threat,

but I'm sure your situation
is quite clear to you.

- Hello.
- Hi.

What's your name, then?

Uh... Anthea.

Is that your real name?

No.

I'm John.

Yes. I know.

Any point in asking
where I'm going?

None at all...

John.

Okay.

Have a seat, John.

You know, I've got a phone.

I mean,
very clever and all that,

but uh...

You could just phone me.

On my phone.

When one is avoiding
the attention
of Sherlock Holmes,

one learns to be discreet,
hence this place.

Your leg must be hurting you.

- Sit down.
- I don't want to sit down.

You don't seem very afraid.

You don't seem
very frightening.

Yes.

The bravery of the soldier.

Bravery is by far
the kindest word for
stupidity, don't you think?

What is your connection
to Sherlock Holmes?

I don't have one.
I barely know him,
I met him...

- Yesterday.
- Mmm.

And since yesterday you've
moved in with him

and now you're
solving crimes together.

Might we expect
a happy announcement
by the end of the week?

- Who are you?
- An interested party.

Interested in Sherlock? Why?

I'm guessing
you're not friends.

You've met him.
How many friends
do you imagine he has?

I am the closest thing to
a friend that Sherlock Holmes
is capable of having.

- And what's that?
- An enemy.

An enemy?

In his mind, certainly.

If you were to ask him,
he'd probably say
his arch-enemy.

He does love to be dramatic.

Well, thank God
you're above all that.

I hope I'm not
distracting you.

Not distracting me at all.

Do you plan to continue
your association with
Sherlock Holmes?

I could be wrong,

but I think that's
none of your business.

- It could be.
- It really couldn't.

If you do move into, um...

221B Baker Street,

I'd be happy to

pay you a meaningful
sum of money on a regular
basis to ease your way.

Why?

Because you're
not a wealthy man.

In exchange for what?

Information.

Nothing indiscreet.
Nothing you'd feel...
Uncomfortable with.

- Just tell me what he's up to.
- Why?

I worry about him.

Constantly.

That's nice of you.

But I would prefer
for various reasons that
my concern go unmentioned.

We have what you
might call a...

Difficult relationship.

- No.
- But I haven't
mentioned a figure.

Don't bother.

You're very
loyal very quickly.

No, I'm not.
I'm just not interested.

"Trust issues," it says here.

What's that?

Could it be that you've
decided to trust

Sherlock Holmes
of all people?

Who says I trust him?

You don't seem
the kind to make
friends easily.

Are we done?

You tell me.

I imagine people have
already warned you to
stay away from him,

but I can see from
your left hand
that's not going to happen.

- My what?
- Show me.

Don't.

- Remarkable.
- What is?

Most people
blunder round this city,

and all they see are
streets and shops and cars.

When you walk
with Sherlock Holmes,
you see the battlefield.

You've seen it already.
Haven't you?

What's wrong with my hand?

You have an intermittent
tremor in your left hand.

Your therapist thinks
it's post-traumatic
stress disorder.

She thinks you're haunted
by memories of your
military service.

Who the hell are you?

- How do you know that?
- Fire her.

She's got it
the wrong way round.

You're under stress
right now and your hand
is perfectly steady.

You're not haunted by the war,
Dr Watson...

You miss it.

Welcome back.

Time to choose
a side, Dr Watson.

I'm to take you home.

Address?

Uh, Baker Street.

221B Baker Street.

But I need to stop off
somewhere first.

Listen, your boss.

Any chance you could
not tell him this
is where I went?

Sure.

You've told him
already, haven't you?

Yeah.

Hey um...
Do you ever get any free time?

Oh, yeah. Lots.

- Bye...
- Okay.

What are you doing?

Nicotine patch.

Helps me think.

Impossible to sustain
a smoking habit in
London these days.

Bad news for brain work.

It's good news for breathing.

Breathing! Breathing's boring.

Is that three patches?

It's a three-patch problem.

Well?

You asked me to come,
I'm assuming it's important.

Oh. Yeah, of course.
Can I borrow your phone?

- My phone?
- Don't wanna use mine.

Always a chance
that my number
will be recognised.

It's on the website.

- Mrs Hudson's got a phone.
- Yeah, she's downstairs.

I tried shouting
but she didn't hear.

I was the other
side of London...

There was no hurry.

Here.

So what's this about.
The case?

Her case...

- Her case?
- Her suitcase, yes, obviously.

The murderer took
her suitcase,
first big mistake.

Okay, he took her case. So?

It's no use,
there's no other way.
We'll have to risk it.

On my desk there's a number.
I want you to send a text.

You've brought me here
to send a text.

Text, yes.
The number on my desk.

- What's wrong?
- Just met a friend of yours.

- A friend?
- An enemy.

Oh. Which one?

Well, your arch-enemy,
according to him.

Do people have arch-enemies?

Did he offer you money
to spy on me?

- Yes.
- Did you take it?

- No.
- Pity, we could have
split the fee.

Think it through next time.

Who is he?

The most dangerous man
you've ever met, and not
my problem right now.

On my desk, the number!

Jennifer Wilson. That was...

Hang on.
Wasn't that the dead woman?

Yes. That's not important.
Just enter the number.

- Are you doing it?
- Yes.

- Have you done it?
- Yeah... Hang on!

These words exactly.

"What happened
at Lauriston Gardens?

"I must have blacked out.

"22 Northumberland St.

- "Please come."
- You blacked out?

What? No... No!

Type and send it. Quickly.

- Have you sent it?
- What's the address?

22 Northumberland St.
Hurry up!

That's...

That's the pink lady's case,
that's Jennifer Wilson's case.

Yes, obviously.

Oh, perhaps I should mention,
I didn't kill her.

- I never said you did.
- Why not?

Given that text
I just had you send

and the fact I have her
case it's a perfectly
logical assumption.

Do people usually assume
you're the murderer?

Now and then, yes.

Okay...

- How did you get this?
- By looking.

Where?

The killer must
have driven her
to Lauriston Gardens.

He could only
keep her case by accident
if it was in the car.

Nobody could be seen with
this case without drawing
attention to themselves,

particularly a man,
which is statistically
more likely.

So obviously
he'd feel compelled
to get rid of it.

The moment he noticed
he still had it,

wouldn't have taken him
more than five minutes
to realise his mistake.

I checked every backstreet
wide enough for a car

five minutes from
Lauriston Gardens,

and anywhere you could
dispose of a bulky object
without being observed.

Took me less than an hour
to find the right skip.

Pink. You got all that
because you realised
the case would be pink?

Well, it had to
be pink, obviously.

- Why didn't I think of that?
- Because you're an idiot.

No, no, no,
don't look like that.
Practically everyone is.

Now, look.
Do you see what's missing?

From the case? How could I?

Her phone.
Where's her mobile phone?

There was no phone
on the body,
there's no phone in the case.

We know she had one.
That's her number there.
You just texted it.

Maybe she left it at home.

She has a string of lovers
and she's careful about it.

She never leaves
her phone at home.

Uh...

Why did I just send that text?

Well, the question is
where is her phone now?

- She could have lost it.
- Yes, or?

The murderer...
You think the murderer
has the phone?

Maybe she left it
when she left her case.

Maybe he took it from
her for some reason.

Either way,
the balance of probability
is the murderer has her phone.

Sorry. What are we doing?

Did I just text a murderer?
What good will that do?

A few hours
after his last victim,

and now he receives a text
that can only be from her.

If somebody had just
found that phone they'd
ignore a text like that,

but the murderer...

Would panic.

Have you talked to the police?

Four people are dead,
there isn't time
to talk to the police.

So why are you talking to me?

Mrs Hudson took my skull.

So I'm basically filling in
for your skull?

Relax, you're doing fine.

- Well?
- Well, what?

Well, you could
just sit there
and watch telly.

What, you want me
to come with you?

I like company when
I go out, and I think better
when I talk aloud.

The skull just
attracts attention, so...

- Problem?
- Yeah, Sergeant Donovan.

- What about her?
- She said...

You get off on this.
You enjoy it.

And I said "dangerous,"
and here you are.

Damn it!

Where are we going?

Northumberland St's
a five minute walk from here.

You think he's stupid enough
to go there?

No, I think
he's brilliant enough.

I love the brilliant ones.
They're all so desperate
to get caught.

- Why?
- Appreciation!

Applause!
At long last the spotlight.

That's the frailty
of genius, John,
it needs an audience.

Yeah.

This is his hunting ground.
Right here
in the heart of the city.

Now that we know his
victims were abducted,
that changes everything.

Because all of his victims
disappeared from busy streets,

crowded places,
but nobody saw them go.

Think! Who do we trust,
even though
we don't know them?

Who passes unnoticed
wherever they go?

Who hunts in
the middle of a crowd?

Don't know. Who?

Haven't the faintest. Hungry?

Thank you, Billy.

22 Northumberland St.

Keep your eyes on it.

He's not just going to
ring the doorbell.
He'd need to be mad.

He has killed four people.

Okay.

Sherlock!

Anything on the menu,
whatever you want, free.

On the house, for you
and for your date.

- Do you want to eat?
- I'm not his date.

This man got me off
a murder charge.

This is Angelo.

Three years ago
I proved to Lestrade

at the time of a particularly
vicious triple murder

that Angelo was in
a completely different
part of town, house-breaking.

- He cleared my name.
- I cleared it a bit.

- Anything happening opposite?
- Nothing.

But for this man,
I'd have gone to prison.

You did go to prison.

I'll get a candle
for the table.
It's more romantic.

I'm not his date!

You may as well eat.
We might have a long wait.

Thanks.

People don't have
arch-enemies.

- I'm sorry?
- In real life.

There are no arch-enemies
in real life. Doesn't happen.

Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull.

So who did I meet?

What do real people
have, then,
in their real lives?

Friends?

People they know,
people they like,
people they don't like.

- Girlfriends, boyfriends.
- Yes, well, as I was saying...
Dull.

You don't have
a girlfriend, then.

Girlfriend?
No, not really my area.

Mmm.

Oh, right.

Do you have a boyfriend?
Which is fine, by the way.

I know it's fine.

- So you've
got a boyfriend then.
- No.

Right. Okay.

You're unattached.
Just like me.

Fine. (CLEARS THROAT) Good.

John, um...

I think you should know that
I consider myself
married to my work,

and while I'm flattered,
I'm really not looking
for any...

No, I'm... not asking. No.

I'm just saying,
it's all fine.

Good.

Thank you.

Look across the street.
Taxi. It's stopped.

Nobody getting in,
and nobody getting out.

Why a taxi?

Oh, that's clever.
Is it clever?
Why is it clever?

That's him.

- Don't stare.
- You're staring.

We can't both stare.

Sorry.

- I've got the cab number.
- Good for you.

Right turn, one way,
roadworks, traffic lights,
bus lane,

pedestrian crossing,
left turn only,
traffic lights.

Sorry.

Come on, John.

Come on, John.
We're losing him!

Oh! This way.

No, this way!

Sorry.

Police! Open her up.

No...

Teeth, tan. What, Californian?

LA, Santa Monica.
Just arrived.

- How could you
possibly know that?
- The luggage.

Ah, probably your first trip
to London, right?

Going by your final
destination and the route
the cabbie was taking you.

Sorry, are you
guys the police?

Yeah. Everything all right?

Yeah.

Welcome to London.

Uh, any problems,
just let us know.

Basically just a cab that
happened to slow down.

Basically.

- Not the murderer.
- Not the murderer, no.

Wrong country, good alibi.

- As they go.
- Hey, where did you get this?

Detective Inspector Lestrade?

Yeah. I pickpocket him
when he's annoying.

You can keep that one,
I've got plenty at the flat.

What?

Nothing, just...
"Welcome to London."

Got your breath back?

Ready when you are.

Okay.

That was ridiculous.

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

And you invaded Afghanistan.

That wasn't just me.

Why aren't we back
at the restaurant?

They can keep an eye out.

It was a long shot anyway.

So what were we doing there?

Oh, just passing the time.

And proving a point.

- What point?
- You.

Mrs Hudson! Dr Watson
will take the room upstairs.

Says who?

Says the man at the door.

Sherlock texted me.

He said you forgot this.

Ah.

Er, thank you. Thank you.

Sherlock, what have you done?

- Mrs Hudson?
- Upstairs.

What are you doing?

Well, I knew you'd find
the case, I'm not stupid.

You can't just
break into my flat.

You can't withhold evidence,
and I didn't
break into your flat.

Well, what do you
call this, then?

It's a drugs bust.

Seriously?
This guy, a junkie?

Have you met him?

John.

I'm pretty sure you could
search this flat all day,

you wouldn't find anything
you could call recreational.

John, you probably
want to shut up now.

But come on.

- No.
- What?

You?

Shut up!
I'm not your sniffer dog.

No, Anderson's my sniffer dog.

What? I...

Anderson, what are you
doing here on a drugs bust?

Oh, I volunteered.

They all did. They're not
strictly speaking
on the drug squad,

but they're very keen.

- Are these human eyes?
- Put those back!

They were in the microwave.

It's an experiment.

Keep looking, guys.

Or you could help us properly
and I'll stand them down.

- This is childish.
- Well, I'm dealing
with a child.

Sherlock, this is our case.
I'm letting you in, but you
do not go off on your own.

Clear?

What, so you set up
a pretend drugs bust
to bully me?

It stops being pretend
if they find anything.

I am clean!

Is your flat?
All of it?

Don't even smoke.

Neither do I.

So let's work together.

- We've found Rachel.
- Who is she?

Jennifer Wilson's
only daughter.

Her daughter?

Why would she write
her daughter's name? Why?

Never mind that,
we found the case.

According to someone
the murderer has the case,

and we found it in the hands
of our favourite psychopath.

I'm not a psychopath,
Anderson.

I am a high-functioning
sociopath.
Do your research.

You need to bring Rachel in,
you need to question her.
I need to question her.

- She's dead.
- Excellent. How and when, why?

Is there a connection?
There has to be.

Well, I doubt it, since
she's been dead for 14 years.

Technically
she was never alive.

Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's
stillborn daughter,
14 years ago.

No, that's...

That's not right. How?

Why would she do that? Why?

Why would she think of her
daughter in her last moments?

Yup, sociopath,
I'm seeing it now.

She didn't think
about her daughter.

She scratched her name on the
floor with her fingernails.
She was dying.

It took effort,
it would have hurt.

You said that the victims
all took the poison
themselves,

that he makes them take it.

Well, maybe he...
I don't know, talks to them.

Maybe he used the death
of her daughter somehow.

Yeah, but that was ages ago.
Why would she still be upset?

Not good?

Bit not good, yeah.

If you were dying...

If you'd been murdered
in your very last few seconds,
what would you say?

"Please, God, let me live."

Use your imagination!

I don't have to.

Yeah, but if you were clever,
really clever.

Jennifer Wilson
running all those lovers,
she was clever.

She's trying
to tell us something.

Isn't the doorbell working?
Your taxi's here, Sherlock.

I didn't order a taxi.
Go away.

Oh, dear.
They're making such a mess.
What are they looking for?

It's a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson.

But they're just for my hip.
They're herbal soothers.

Shut up, everybody! Shut up!

Don't move, don't speak,
don't breathe.
I'm trying to think.

Anderson, face the other way.
You're putting me off.

What? My face is?

Everybody quiet and still.
Anderson, turn your back.

Oh, for God's sake!

Your back, now, please!

- Come on, think. Quick!
-
What about your taxi?

Mrs Hudson!

Oh.

Ah!

She was clever. Clever, yes!

She's cleverer
than you lot and she's dead.
Do you see, do you get it?

She didn't lose her phone,
she never lost it.
She planted it on him.

When she got out of the car,
she knew that she was
going to her death.

She left the phone in order
to lead us to her killer.

But how?

What do you mean, how?

Rachel!

Don't you see? Rachel!

Oh...

Look at you lot.
You're all so vacant.

Is it nice not being me?
It must be so relaxing.

Rachel is not a name.

Then what is it?

John, on the luggage,
there's a label.
E-mail address.

Er,
jennie.pink@mephone.org.uk.

Oh, I've been too slow.
She didn't have a laptop,

which means she did her
business on her phone.

So it's a Smartphone,
it's e-mail enabled.

So those are website
for her account.

The username
is her e-mail address,

and all together now,
the password is?

Rachel.

So we can read
her e-mails. So what?

Anderson, don't talk out loud.
You lower the IQ
of the whole street.

We can do much more
than just read her e-mails.

It's a Smartphone,
it's got GPS.

Which means if you lose it
you can locate it online.

She's leading us directly
to the man who killed her.

- Unless he got rid of it.
- We know he didn't.

- Come on, come on. Quickly!
- Sherlock, dear.

This taxi driver...

Mrs Hudson, isn't it time
for your evening soother?

Get vehicles,
get a helicopter.

We're gonna have to move fast.
This phone battery
won't last forever.

We'll just have
a map reference, not a name.

It's a start!

- Sherlock?
- Narrows it down from
just anyone in London.

- It's the first proper lead
that we've had.
- Sherlock?

Where is it? Quickly, where?

Here.
It's in 221 Baker Street.

How can it be here?

How?

Well, maybe it was in the case
when you brought it back
and it fell out somewhere.

What, and I didn't notice it?
Me? I didn't notice?

Anyway,
we texted him
and he called back.

Guys, we're also looking
for a mobile somewhere here,
belonged to the victim...

"Who do we trust,
even if we don't know them?

"Who passes unnoticed
wherever they go?

"Who hunts in the
middle of a crowd?"

Sherlock, you okay?

What?

Yeah, yeah. I'm fine.

So, how can
the phone be here?

Don't know.

-I'll try it again.
- Good idea.

Hey, where are you going?

Fresh air, just popping
outside for a moment.
Won't be long.

You sure you're all right?

I'm fine.

Taxi for Sherlock Holmes.

I didn't order a taxi.

Doesn't mean
you don't need one.

You're the cabbie.

The one who stopped outside
Northumberland Street.

It was you.

Not your passenger.

See? No-one ever thinks
about the cabbie.

It's like you're invisible.

Just the back of an 'ead.

Proper advantage
for a serial killer.

- Is this a confession?
- Oh, yeah.

I'll tell you what else...

If you call the coppers now,
I won't run.

I'll sit quiet and they can
take me down, I promise.

Why?

'Cause you're not
gonna do that.

Am I not?

I didn't kill those
four people, Mr Holmes.

I spoke to 'em

and they killed themselves.

If you get the coppers now,
I'll promise you one thing.

I will never tell you
what I said.

No-one else will die, though,

and I believe
they call that a result.

And you won't ever understand
how those people died.

What kind of result
do you care about?

If I wanted to understand

what would I do?

- Let me take you for a ride.
- So you can kill me, too?

I don't want to kill you,
Mr Holmes.

I'm going to talk to ya

and then you're gonna
kill yourself.

He just got in a cab.

It's Sherlock.
He just drove off in a cab.

I told you, he does that.

He bloody left again.

We're wasting our time!

I'm calling the phone,
it's ringing out.

And if it's ringing,
it's not here.

I'll try the search again.

Does it matter?
Does any of it?

He's just a lunatic,
and he'll always let you down.

And you're wasting your time.
All our time.

Okay, everybody,

done here.

How did you find me?

Oh, I recognised ya.

Soon as I saw you
chasing my cab.

Sherlock Holmes!

I was warned about you.

I've been on your
website, too.

Brilliant stuff! Loved it.

Who warned you about me?

Just someone out there
who's noticed.

Who?

Who would notice me?

You're too modest, Mr Holmes.

I'm really not.

Got yourself a fan.

Tell me more.

That's all you're gonna know.

In this lifetime.

Why did he do that?
Why did he have to leave?

You know him better than I do.

I've known him for five years,
and no, I don't.

So why do you put up with him?

Because I'm desperate,
that's why.

And because Sherlock Holmes
is a great man,

and I think one day,
if we're very, very lucky,

he might even be a good one.

Where are we?

You know every street
in London.

You know exactly where we are.

Roland-Kerr
Further Education College.

Why here?

It's open.

Cleaners are in.

One thing about
being a cabbie,

you always know a nice
quiet spot for a murder.

I'm surprised more of us
don't branch out.

And you just
walk your victims in? How?

Oh. Dull.

Don't worry. It gets better.

You can't make people
take their own lives
at gunpoint.

I don't.

It's much better than that.

Don't need this with you.
'Cause you'll follow me.

Well, what do you think?

It's up to you.

You're the one
who's gonna die here.

No, I'm not.

That's what they all say.

Shall we talk?

Bit risky, wasn't it?

Took me away
under the eye of about
half a dozen policemen.

They're not that stupid.

And Mrs Hudson
will remember you.

You call that a risk? Nah...

This is a risk.

Oh, I like this bit.

'Cause you don't get it yet,
do ya?

But you're about to.

I just have to do this.

Weren't expecting that,
were ya?

Oh, you're going to love this.

Love what?

Sherlock Holmes! Look at you!

Here in the flesh.

That website of yours,
your fan told me about it.

My fan?

You are brilliant.

You are a proper genius.

The Science of Deduction.
Now, that

is proper thinking.

Between you and me
sitting here,
why can't people think?

Don't it make you mad?

Why can't people just think?

Oh, I see. So you're
a proper genius, too.

Don't look it, do I?

Funny little man
driving a cab.

But you'll know better
in a minute.

Chances are it'll be
the last thing you ever know.

Okay, two bottles. Explain.

There's a good bottle
and a bad bottle.

You take the pill
from the good bottle,
you live.

You take the pill
from the bad bottle, you die.

Both bottles are,
of course identical.

In every way.

- And you know which is which.
- Of course I know.

But I don't.

Wouldn't be a game
if you knew.
You're the one who chooses.

Why should I?
I've got nothing to go on.

What's in it for me?

I haven't told you
the best bit yet.

Whatever bottle you choose,

I take the pill
from the other one.

And then together

we take our medicine.

I won't cheat.
It's your choice.

I'll take whatever pill
you don't.

Didn't expect that,
did you, Mr Holmes?

This is what you did

to the rest of them,
you gave them a choice?

And now I'm giving you one.

You take your time.

Get yourself together.

I want your best game.

It's not a game, it's chance.

I've played four times.
I'm alive.

It's not chance, Mr Holmes,
it's chess.

It's a game of chess,

with one move

and one survivor.

And this... This

is the move.

Did I just give you
the good bottle
or the bad bottle?

You can choose either one.

No,
Detective Inspector Lestrade,
I need to speak to him.

It's important.
It's an emergency.

Er, left here, please.
Left here.

You ready yet, Mr Holmes?

Ready to play?

Play what?
It's a 50-50 chance.

You're not playing
the numbers,
you're playing me.

Did I just give you
the good pill or the bad pill?

Is it a bluff,

or a double bluff?

Or a triple bluff?

It's still just chance.

Four people, in a row?
It's not chance.

- Luck.
- It's genius!

I know how people think.

I know how people
think I think.

I can see it all
like a map inside my head.

Everyone's so stupid,
even you.

Or maybe God just loves me.

Either way,
you're wasted as a cabbie.

So...

You risked your life
four times just to
kill strangers? Why?

Time to play.

Oh, I am playing.

This is my turn.

There's shaving foam
behind your left ear.

Nobody's pointed it
out to you.

Traces of where it's happened
before, so obviously
you live on your own

there's no-one to tell you.

But there's a photograph
of children.

The children's mother's
been cut out of the picture.

If she'd died,
she'd still be there.

The photograph's old,
but the frame's new.

You think of your children,
but you don't get to see them.

Estranged father.

She took the kids,

but you still love them
and it still hurts.

Ah, but there's more.

Your clothes.
Recently laundered,

but everything you're wearing
is at least three years old?

Keeping up appearances,
but not planning ahead.

And here you are
on a kamikaze murder spree.
What's that about?

Ah...

Three years ago.
Is that when they told you?

Told me what?

That you're
a dead man walking.

So are you.

You don't have long, though.

Am I right?

Aneurism. Right in 'ere.

Any breath could be my last.

And because you're dying,
you've just murdered
four people.

I've outlived four people.

That's the most fun
you can have with an aneurism.

No...

No, there's something else.

You didn't just
kill four people
because you're bitter.

Bitterness is a paralytic.

Love is a much more
vicious motivator.

Somehow,
this is about your children.

Oh.

You are good, in't ya?

But how?

When I die
they won't get much, my kids.

Not a lot of money
in driving cabs.

Or serial killing.

You'd be surprised.

Surprise me.

I have a sponsor.

You have a what?

For every life I take,
money goes to my kids.

The more I kill,
the better off they'll be.

You see?
It's nicer than you think.

Who'd sponsor a serial killer?

Who'd be a fan
of Sherlock Holmes?

You're not the only one
to enjoy a good murder.

There's others out there
just like you,
except you're just a man.

And they're so much more
than that.

What do you mean,
more than a man?

An organisation? What?

There's a name,
that no-one says.

And I'm not gonna
say it either.

Now, enough chatter.

Time to choose.

Sherlock?

Sherlock!

What if I don't choose either?
I could just walk out of here.

You can take a 50-50 chance,

or I can shoot you
in the head.

Funnily enough,

no-one's ever
gone for that option.

I'll have the gun, please.

Are you sure?

Definitely. The gun.

You don't want to
phone a friend?

The gun.

I know a real gun
when I see one.

None of the others did.

Clearly.

Well, this has been
very interesting.

I look forward
to the court case.

Just before you go,
did you figure it out?

Which one's the good bottle?

Course. Child's play.

Well, which one, then?

Which one would you
have picked?

Just so I know whether
I could have beaten you.

Come on!

Play the game.

Oh!

Interesting.

So what do you think?

Shall we?

Really. What do you think?

Can you beat me?

Are you clever enough,

to bet your life?

Sherlock!

I bet you get bored,
don't you?

I know you do.

A man like you.

So clever.

But what's the point
of being clever
if you can't prove it?

Still the addict.

But this, this is what
you're really addicted to.

You'll do anything...

Anything at all,
to stop being bored.

You're not bored now, are ya?

Isn't it good?

Was I right?

I was, wasn't I?

Did I get it right?

Okay. Tell me this.

Your sponsor. Who was it?

The one who told you about me,
my fan.

I want a name.

No.

You're dying, but there's
still time to hurt you.

Give me a name.

A name! Now.

The name!

Moriarty!

Why have I got this blanket?
They keep putting
this blanket on me.

- Yeah, it's for shock.
- I'm not in shock.

Yeah, but some of the guys
want to take photographs.

So, the shooter. No sign?

Cleared off
before we got here.

But a guy like that would
have had enemies, I suppose.

One of them could have
been following him, but...

We've got nothing to go on.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.

Okay. Give me.

The bullet they just dug out
of the wall's from a handgun.

A kill shot over
that distance,
that kind of a weapon.

That's a crack shot
we're looking for.

But not just a marksman,
a fighter.

His hands couldn't have
shaken at all, so clearly
he's acclimatised to violence.

He didn't fire until I was
in immediate danger, though,
so strong moral principle.

You're looking for a man
probably with a history
of military service,

and nerves of steel...

Actually, do you know what?
Ignore me.

- Sorry?
- Ignore all of that.

It's just the, er,
the shock talking.

Where are you going?

I just need to
talk about the rent.

- I've still got questions.
- What now?

I'm in shock,
look, I've got a blanket.

Sherlock!

And, I just caught you
a serial killer.

More or less.

Okay.

We'll pull you in tomorrow,
off you go.

Erm, Sergeant Donovan
has just been
explaining everything.

The two pills.

Dreadful business, isn't it?
Dreadful.

Good shot.

Yes. Yes, must have been.
Through that window.

Well, you'd know.

Need to get the powder burns
out of your fingers.

I don't suppose
you'd serve time for this,

but let's avoid
the court case.

Are you all right?

Yes, of course I'm all right.

- Well, you have just
killed a man.
- Yes.

That's true, isn't it?

But he wasn't a very nice man.

No. No, he wasn't,
really, was he?

Frankly a bloody awful cabbie.

That's true,
he was a bad cabbie.

You should have seen the route
he took us to get here.

Stop it! We can't giggle,
it's a crime scene. Stop it.

- Well, you're the one
who shot him.
- Keep your voice down.

Sorry, it's just, erm,
nerves, I think.

Sorry.

You were gonna take
that damn pill, weren't you?

Course I wasn't.

Biding my time.
Knew you'd turn up.

No, you didn't.

That's how you
get your kicks, isn't it?

You risk your life
to prove you're clever.

- Why would I do that?
- Because you're an idiot.

Dinner?

Starving.

End of Baker Street
there's a good Chinese.
Stays open till 2:00.

You can tell
a good Chinese by the bottom
third of the door handle.

Sherlock. That's him,
that's the man I was
talking to you about.

I know exactly who that is.

So... Another case cracked.

How very public-spirited.

Though that's never really
your motivation, is it?

What are you doing here?

As ever,
I'm concerned about you.

Yes, I've been hearing
about your "concern."

Always so aggressive.

Did it never occur to you
that you and I belong
on the same side?

Oddly enough, no.

We have more in common
than you'd like to believe.

This petty feud between us
is simply childish.

People will suffer.

And you know how it always
upset Mummy.

I upset her?

Me?

It wasn't me that upset her,
Mycroft.

No. No, wait...

Mummy? Who's Mummy?

Mother. Our mother.

This is my brother, Mycroft.

Putting on weight again?

Losing it, in fact.

He's your brother?

Of course he's my brother.

- So he's not...
- Not what?

I don't know.
Criminal mastermind?

Close enough.

For goodness' sake.

I occupy a minor position
in the British government.

He is the British government,

when he's not too busy being
the British secret service

or the CIA
on a freelance basis.

Good evening, Mycroft.

Try not to start a war
before I get home,

you know what it does
for the traffic.

So, when you say
you're concerned about him,

you actually are concerned?

Yes, of course.

I mean, it actually is
a childish feud?

He's always been so resentful.

You can imagine
the Christmas dinners.

Yeah.

No... God, no.

I'd better, erm...

Hello, again.

Hello.

We met earlier on
this evening.

Oh!

Okay. Goodnight.

Goodnight, Dr Watson.

- So, dim sum.
- Mmm!

I can always predict
the fortune cookies.

- No, you can't.
- Almost can.

- You did get shot, though.
- Sorry?

In Afghanistan.
There was an actual wound.

- Oh. Yeah, shoulder.
- Shoulder! I thought so.

- No, you didn't.
- The left one.

- Lucky guess.
- I never guess.

Yes, you do.

- What are you so happy about?
- Moriarty.

- What's Moriarty?
- I've absolutely no idea.

Sir, shall we go?

Interesting,
that soldier fellow.

He could be the making
of my brother,

or make him worse than ever.

Either way, we'd better
upgrade their
surveillance status.

Grade three active.

Sorry, sir, whose status?

Sherlock Holmes,
and Dr Watson.