DAY 1

SHERLOCK: Consulting criminal 


JIM: I have loved that little game of ours. 

SHERLOCK: People have died.

JIM: Thats what people DO!

SHERLOCK: I will stop you.

JIM: If you don’t stop prying, I’ll burn you. I’ll burn the heart out of you.

SHERLOCK: Catch you later.

JIM: No, you won’t. Sorry boys, I’m so changeable. It is a weakness with me, but to be fair to myself, it is my only
weakness. You can’t be allowed to continue. You just can’t. I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say
has already crossed your mind. 

SHERLOCK: Probably my answer has crossed yours.



JIM: D’you mind if I get that?
SHERLOCK (nonchalantly): No, no, please. You’ve got the rest of your life.
JIM: Hello? ... Yes, of course it is. What do you want?

JIM (loudly into phone): SAY THAT AGAIN!
JIM (venomously, into phone): Say that again, and know that if you’re lying to me, I will find you and I will ssssskin
you.
JIM (into phone): Wait.
JIM: Sorry. Wrong day to die.
SHERLOCK (casually): Oh. Did you get a better offer?
JIM: You’ll be hearing from me, Sherlock.
JIM (into phone): So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don’t, I’ll make you into shoes.
JOHN: What happened there?
SHERLOCK: Someone changed his mind. The question is: who?
IRENE: Well now. Have you been wicked, Your Highness?

SULTRY FEMALE VOICE: Yes, Miss Adler.



DAY 2
MAN: My wife seems to be spending a very long time at the office.
SHERLOCK: Boring.

WOMAN: I think my husband might be having an affair.

SHERLOCK: Yes.

CREEPY GUY: She’s not my real aunt. She’s been replaced – I know she has. I know human ash.
SHERLOCK: Leave.

BUSINESSMAN: We are prepared to offer any sum of money you care to mention for the recovery of these files.
SHERLOCK: Boring.

GEEKY YOUNG MAN: We have this website. It explains the true meaning of comic books, ’cause people miss a lot
of the themes.
GEEKY YOUNG MAN: But then all the comic books started coming true.
SHERLOCK: Oh. Interesting.
SHERLOCK: ‘Geek Interpreter.’ What’s that?
JOHN: It’s the title.
SHERLOCK: What does it need a title for?

SHERLOCK: Do people actually read your blog?

JOHN: Where d’you think our clients come from?
SHERLOCK: I have a website.
JOHN: In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody’s reading your
website.
JOHN: Right then: dyed blonde hair; no obvious cause of death except for these speckles, whatever they are.

SHERLOCK (with his mouth full): Oh, for God’s sakes!

JOHN: What?
SHERLOCK: “The Speckled Blonde”?!

LITTLE GIRL: They wouldn’t let us see Granddad when he was dead. Is that ’cause he’d gone to heaven?
SHERLOCK: People don’t really go to heaven when they die. They’re taken to a special room and burned.
JOHN: Sherlock ...

LESTRADE: There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday. Everyone dead.

SHERLOCK: Suspected terrorist bomb. We do watch the news.
JOHN: You said, “Boring,” and turned over.
LESTRADE: Well, according to the flight details, this man was checked in on board. Inside his coat he’s got a stub
from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of those special biscuits. Here’s his passport stamped in
Berlin Airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday but instead he’s in a car boot in
Southwark.
JOHN: Lucky escape.
LESTRADE: Any ideas?
SHERLOCK: Eight, so far.
SHERLOCK: Okay, four ideas.
SHERLOCK: Maybe two ideas.

SHERLOCK: No, no, no, don’t mention the unsolved ones.

JOHN: People want to know you’re human.
SHERLOCK: Why?
JOHN: ’Cause they’re interested.
SHERLOCK: No they’re not. Why are they?
JOHN: Look at that. One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five.
SHERLOCK: Sorry, what?
JOHN: I re-set that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your
living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash.
SHERLOCK: Two hundred and forty-three.

SHERLOCK: So, what’s this one? “Belly Button Murders”?

JOHN: “The Navel Treatment”?
SHERLOCK: Eurgh!
LESTRADE: There’s a lot of press outside, guys.
SHERLOCK: Well, they won’t be interested in us.
LESTRADE: Yeah, that was before you were an internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted
photographs of you two.
SHERLOCK: For God’s sake!
SHERLOCK: John. Cover your face and walk fast.
LESTRADE: Still, it’s good for the public image, a big case like this.
SHERLOCK: I’m a private detective. The last thing I need is a public image.

IRENE: Hello. I think it’s time, don’t you?

________________________________________________________________________________

MRS HUDSON: Ooh dear! Thumbs!

MAN: The door was ... the door was ...
MRS HUDSON: Boys! You’ve got another one! Ooh!

SHERLOCK (sternly): Tell us from the start. Don’t be boring.

PHIL (calling out): Hey! Are you okay? Excuse me! Are you all right?

POLICE OFFICER: Sir. Phone call for you.

CARTER: Carter.
LESTRADE: Have you heard of Sherlock Holmes?
CARTER: Who?
LESTRADE: Well, you’re about to meet him now. This is your case. It’s entirely up to you. This is just friendly
advice, but give Sherlock five minutes on your crime scene and listen to everything that he has to say. And as far as
possible, try not to punch him.
POLICE OFFICER: Okay.
POLICE OFFICER: Sir, this gentleman says he needs to speak to you.
CARTER: Yes, I know. Sherlock Holmes.
JOHN: John Watson. Are you set up for Wi-Fi?

JOHN: You realise this is a tiny bit humiliating?

SHERLOCK: It’s okay, I’m fine. Now, show me to the stream.
JOHN: I didn’t really mean for you.
SHERLOCK: Look, this is a six.
SHERLOCK: There’s no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven. We agreed. Now, go back. Show
me the grass.
JOHN: When did we agree that?
SHERLOCK: We agreed it yesterday. Stop! Closer.
JOHN: I wasn’t even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin.
SHERLOCK: Well, it’s hardly my fault you weren’t listening.
SHERLOCK: SHUT UP!
JOHN: D’you just carry on talking when I’m away?
SHERLOCK: I don’t know. How often are you away? Now, show me the car that backfired.
JOHN: It’s there.
SHERLOCK: That’s the one that made the noise, yes?
JOHN: Yeah. And if you’re thinking gunshot, there wasn’t one. He wasn’t shot; he was killed by a single blow to the
back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That’s gotta be an
eight at least.
CARTER: You’ve got two more minutes, then I want to know more about the driver.
SHERLOCK: Oh, forget him. He’s an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?
CARTER: I think he’s a suspect!
SHERLOCK: Pass me over.
JOHN: All right, but there’s a Mute button and I will use it.
SHERLOCK: Up a bit! I’m not talking from down ’ere!
JOHN: Okay, just take it, take it.
SHERLOCK: Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness,
why would he then call the police and consult a detective? Fair play?
CARTER: He’s trying to be clever. It’s over-confidence.
SHERLOCK: Did you see him? Morbidly obese, the undisguised halitosis of a single man living on his own, the
right sleeve of an internet porn addict and the breathing pattern of an untreated heart condition. Low self-esteem,
tiny IQ and a limited life expectancy – and you think he’s an audacious criminal mastermind?!
SHERLOCK: Don’t worry – this is just stupid.
PHIL: What did you say? Heart what?
SHERLOCK: Go to the stream.
CARTER: What’s in the stream?
SHERLOCK: Go and see.

MRS HUDSON: Sherlock! You weren’t answering your doorbell!

PLUMMER: His room’s through the back. Get him some clothes.
SHERLOCK: Who the hell are you?
PLUMMER: Sorry, Mr Holmes. You’re coming with us.
JOHN: Sherlock, what’s going on? What’s happening?
JOHN: I’ve lost him. I don’t know what ...
POLICE OFFICER: Doctor Watson?
JOHN: Yeah.
POLICE OFFICER: It’s for you.
JOHN: Okay, thanks.
POLICE OFFICER: Uh, no, sir. The helicopter.






DAY 3
JOHN: Are you wearing any pants?
SHERLOCK: No.
JOHN: Okay.

JOHN: At Buckingham Palace, fine. Oh, I’m seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray. What are we doing
here, Sherlock? Seriously, what?
SHERLOCK: I don’t know.
JOHN: Here to see the Queen?
SHERLOCK: Oh, apparently yes.
MYCROFT: Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?
JOHN: We solve crimes, I blog about it and he forgets his pants, so I wouldn’t hold out too much hope.
SHERLOCK: I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft.
MYCROFT: What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report. Bit obvious, surely?
SHERLOCK: Transparent.
MYCROFT: Time to move on, then.
MYCROFT: We are in Buckingham Palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers
on.
SHERLOCK: What for?
MYCROFT: Your client.
SHERLOCK: And my client is?
EQUERRY: Illustrious ... in the extreme. And remaining – I have to inform you – entirely anonymous. Mycroft!
MYCROFT: Harry. May I just apologise for the state of my little brother?
EQUERRY: Full-time occupation, I imagine. And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth
Northumberland Fusiliers.
JOHN: Hello, yes.
EQUERRY: My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog.
JOHN: Your employer?
EQUERRY: Particularly enjoyed the one about the aluminium crutch.
JOHN: Thank you!
EQUERRY: And Mr Holmes the younger. You look taller in your photographs.
SHERLOCK: I take the precaution of a good coat and a short friend. Mycroft, I don’t do anonymous clients. I’m used
to mystery at one end of my cases. Both ends is too much work. Good morning.
MYCROFT: This is a matter of national importance. Grow up.
SHERLOCK: Get off my sheet!
MYCROFT: Or what?
SHERLOCK: Or I’ll just walk away.
MYCROFT: I’ll let you.
JOHN: Boys, please. Not here.
SHERLOCK: Who. Is. My. Client?
MYCROFT: Take a look at where you’re standing and make a deduction. You are to be engaged by the highest in the
land. Now for God’s sake ... put your clothes on!

MYCROFT: I’ll be mother.

SHERLOCK: And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell.
EQUERRY: My employer has a problem.
MYCROFT: A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of
need, dear brother, your name has arisen.
SHERLOCK: Why? You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?
EQUERRY: People do come to you for help, don’t they, Mr Holmes?
SHERLOCK: Not, to date, anyone with a Navy.
MYCROFT: This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust.
JOHN: You don’t trust your own Secret Service?
MYCROFT: Naturally not. They all spy on people for money.
EQUERRY: I do think we have a timetable.
MYCROFT: Yes, of course. Um ... What do you know about this woman?
SHERLOCK: Nothing whatsoever.
MYCROFT: Then you should be paying more attention. She’s been at the centre of two political scandals in the last
year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately.
SHERLOCK: You know I don’t concern myself with trivia. Who is she?
MYCROFT: Irene Adler, professionally known as The Woman.
JOHN: Professionally?
MYCROFT: There are many names for what she does. She prefers ‘dominatrix.’
SHERLOCK: Dominatrix.
MYCROFT: Don’t be alarmed. It’s to do with sex.
SHERLOCK: Sex doesn’t alarm me.
MYCROFT: How would you know? She provides – shall we say – recreational scolding for those who enjoy that
sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it. These are all from her website.
SHERLOCK: And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs.
EQUERRY: You’re very quick, Mr Holmes.
SHERLOCK: Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?
EQUERRY: A person of significance to my employer. We’d prefer not to say any more at this time.
JOHN: You can’t tell us anything?
MYCROFT: I can tell you it’s a young person. A young female person.
SHERLOCK: How many photographs?
MYCROFT: A considerable number, apparently.
SHERLOCK: Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photographs together?
MYCROFT: Yes, they do.
SHERLOCK: And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios.
MYCROFT: An imaginative range, we are assured.
SHERLOCK: John, you might want to put that cup back in your saucer now.
EQUERRY: Can you help us, Mr Holmes?
SHERLOCK: How?
EQUERRY: Will you take the case?
SHERLOCK: What case? Pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, “Know when you are
beaten.”
MYCROFT: She doesn’t want anything. She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she
indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour.
SHERLOCK: Oh, a power play. A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix.
Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn’t it?
JOHN: Sherlock ...
SHERLOCK: Hmm.Where is she?
MYCROFT: Uh, in London currently. She’s staying ...
SHERLOCK: Text me the details. I’ll be in touch by the end of the day.
EQUERRY: Do you really think you’ll have news by then?
SHERLOCK: No, I think I’ll have the photographs.
EQUERRY: One can only hope you’re as good as you seem to think.

SHERLOCK: I’ll need some equipment, of course.

MYCROFT: Anything you require. I’ll have it sent to ...
SHERLOCK: Can I have a box of matches?
EQUERRY: I’m sorry?
SHERLOCK: Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do.
EQUERRY: I don’t smoke.
SHERLOCK: No, I know you don’t, but your employer does.
EQUERRY: We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr Holmes.
SHERLOCK: I’m not the Commonwealth.
JOHN: And that’s as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you.
(He follows after Sherlock as he strolls out of the room.)
SHERLOCK: Laters!

JOHN: Okay, the smoking. How did you know?

SHERLOCK: The evidence was right under your nose, John. As ever, you see but do not observe.
JOHN: Observe what?
SHERLOCK: The ashtray.

IRENE: Kate!
IRENE: We’re going to have a visitor. I’ll need a bit of time to get ready.
KATE: A long time?
IRENE: Ages!





DAY 4


SHERLOCK: Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I’ve just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they ... they took my
wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?
KATE: I can phone the police if you want.
SHERLOCK (tearfully): Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?
SHERLOCK: Oh, would you ... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so
much.
SHERLOCK (still in character): Thank you. (He briefly looks around the large entrance hall.) Er, ooh!
JOHN (closing the door): I – I saw it all happen. It’s okay, I’m a doctor.
JOHN: Now, have you got a first aid kit?
KATE: In the kitchen.
KATE: Please.
SHERLOCK: Oh! Thank you!
JOHN: Thank you. 


IRENE: Hello. Sorry to hear that you’ve been hurt. I don’t think Kate caught your name.
SHERLOCK: I’m so sorry. I’m ...
IRENE: Oh, it’s always hard to remember an alias when you’ve had a fright, isn’t it?
IRENE: There now – we’re both defrocked ...
IRENE: ... Mr Sherlock Holmes.
SHERLOCK: Miss Adler, I presume.
IRENE: Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face. Would you like me to try?
JOHN: Right, this should do it.
JOHN: I’ve missed something, haven’t I?
IRENE: Please, sit down.
IRENE: Oh, if you’d like some tea I can call the maid.
SHERLOCK: I had some at the Palace.
IRENE: I know.
SHERLOCK: Clearly.
JOHN: I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone’s interested. 



IRENE: D’you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr Holmes?
IRENE: However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.
SHERLOCK: You think I’m a vicar with a bleeding face?
IRENE: No, I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it’s yourself.
IRENE: Oh, and somebody loves you. Why, if I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.
JOHN: Could you put something on, please? Er, anything at all. A napkin.
IRENE: Why? Are you feeling exposed?
SHERLOCK: I don’t think John knows where to look.
IRENE: No, I think he knows exactly where.
IRENE (taking the coat from him): I’m not sure about you.
SHERLOCK: If I wanted to look at naked women I’d borrow John’s laptop.
JOHN: You do borrow my laptop.
SHERLOCK: I confiscate it.
IRENE: Well, never mind. We’ve got better things to talk about. Now tell me – I need to know.
IRENE: How was it done?
SHERLOCK: What?
IRENE: The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?
SHERLOCK: That’s not why I’m here.
IRENE: No, no, no, you’re here for the photographs but that’s never gonna happen, and since we’re here just chatting
anyway ...
JOHN: That story’s not been on the news yet. How do you know about it?
IRENE: I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes.
JOHN: Oh. And you like policemen?
IRENE: I like detective stories – and detectives. Brainy’s the new sexy.
SHERLOCK: Positionofthecar ...
SHERLOCK: Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the
death blow was to the back of the head. That’s all you need to know.
IRENE: Okay, tell me: how was he murdered?
SHERLOCK: He wasn’t.
IRENE: You don’t think it was murder?
SHERLOCK: I know it wasn’t.
IRENE: How?
SHERLOCK: The same way that I know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel
and that the photographs I’m looking for are in this room.
IRENE: Okay, but how?
SHERLOCK: So they are in this room. Thank you. John, man the door. Let no-one in.
SHERLOCK (starting to pace again): Two men alone in the countryside several yards apart, and one car.
IRENE: Oh. I – I thought you were looking for the photos now.
SHERLOCK: No, no. Looking takes ages. I’m just going to find them but you’re moderately clever and we’ve got a
moment, so let’s pass the time.
SHERLOCK: Two men, a car, and nobody else.
SHERLOCK: The driver’s trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere.
SHERLOCK: And the hiker’s taking a moment, looking at the sky.
SHERLOCK: Watching the birds?
SHERLOCK: Any moment now, something’s gonna happen. What?
IRENE: The hiker’s going to die.
SHERLOCK: No, that’s the result. What’s going to happen?
IRENE: I don’t understand.
SHERLOCK: Oh, well, try to.
IRENE: Why?
SHERLOCK: Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop
boring me and think. It’s the new sexy.
IRENE: The car’s going to backfire.
SHERLOCK: There’s going to be a loud noise.
IRENE: So, what?
SHERLOCK: Oh, noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance ... SHERLOCK: Thank you. On
hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look towards her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.
SHERLOCK: Really hope you don’t have a baby in here.
SHERLOCK: All right, John, you can turn it off now.
SHERLOCK (loudly): I said you can turn it off now.
JOHN: Give me a minute.
JOHN: Thank you.
SHERLOCK: Hmm. Should always use gloves with these things, you know. Heaviest oil deposit’s always on the first
key used – that’s quite clearly the three – but after that the sequence is almost impossible to read. I’d say from the
make that it’s a six digit code. Can’t be your birthday – no disrespect but clearly you were born in the eighties; the
eight’s barely used, so ...
IRENE: I’d tell you the code right now but you know what? I already have.
IRENE: Think.
NEILSON: Hands behind your head. (To Irene) On the floor. Keep it still.
JOHN: Sorry, Sherlock.
NEILSON: Ms Adler, on the floor.
SHERLOCK: Don’t you want me on the floor too?
NEILSON: No, sir, I want you to open the safe.
SHERLOCK (clocking his accent): American. Interesting. Why would you care?
NEILSON: Sir, the safe, now, please.
SHERLOCK: I don’t know the code.
NEILSON: We’ve been listening. She said she told you.
SHERLOCK: Well, if you’d been listening, you’d know she didn’t.
NEILSON: I’m assuming I missed something. From your reputation, I’m assuming you didn’t, Mr Holmes.
JOHN: For God’s sake. She’s the one who knows the code. Ask her.
NEILSON: Yes, sir. She also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm. I’ve
learned not to trust this woman.
IRENE: Mr Holmes doesn’t ...
NEILSON: Shut up. One more word out of you – just one – and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your
head. That, for me, will not be a hardship.
NEILSON: Mr Archer. At the count of three, shoot Doctor Watson.
JOHN: What?
SHERLOCK: I don’t have the code.
NEILSON: One.
SHERLOCK (emphatically): I don’t know the code.
NEILSON: Two.
SHERLOCK: She didn’t tell me. (Raising his voice) I don’t know it!
NEILSON: I’m prepared to believe you any second now.
NEILSON: Three.
SHERLOCK: No, stop! 

NEILSON: Thank you, Mr Holmes. Open it, please.
SHERLOCK (urgently): Vatican cameos.
SHERLOCK: D’you mind?
IRENE: Not at all. 

JOHN: He’s dead.
IRENE: Thank you. You were very observant.
JOHN: Observant?
IRENE: I’m flattered.
SHERLOCK: Don’t be.
JOHN: Flattered?
SHERLOCK: There’ll be more of them. They’ll be keeping a eye on the building.
JOHN: We should call the police.
SHERLOCK: Yes.
SHERLOCK: On their way.
JOHN: For God’s sake!
SHERLOCK: Oh shut up. It’s quick.
SHERLOCK (to John): Check the rest of the house. See how they got in.
(John heads off and Sherlock takes the item which he just stole from the safe out of his pocket and flips it nonchalantly
into the air before catching it again.)
SHERLOCK: Well, that’s the knighthood in the bag.
IRENE: Ah. And that’s mine.
SHERLOCK: All the photographs are on here, I presume.
IRENE: I have copies, of course.
SHERLOCK: No you don’t. You’ll have permanently disabled any kind of uplink or connection. Unless the
contents of this phone are provably unique, you wouldn’t be able to sell them.
IRENE: Who said I’m selling?
SHERLOCK: Well, why would they be interested? Whatever’s on the phone, it’s clearly not just photographs.
IRENE: That camera phone is my life, Mr Holmes. I’d die before I let you take it. It’s my protection.
JOHN (calling out): Sherlock!
JOHN: It’s all right. She’s just out cold.
IRENE: Well, God knows she’s used to that. There’s a back door. Better check it, Doctor Watson.
JOHN: Sure. 

SHERLOCK: You’re very calm.
SHERLOCK: Well, your booby trap did just kill a man.
IRENE: He would have killed me. It was self defence in advance.
SHERLOCK: What? What is that? What ...?
IRENE: Give it to me. Now. Give it to me.
SHERLOCK: No.
IRENE: Give it to me.
SHERLOCK: No.
IRENE: Oh, for goodness’ sake.
IRENE: Drop it.
IRENE: I ... ... said ... drop it.
IRENE: Ah. Thank you, dear.
IRENE: Now tell that sweet little posh thing the pictures are safe with me. They’re not for blackmail, just for
insurance.
IRENE: Besides, I might want to see her again.
IRENE: Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. It’s been a pleasure. Don’t spoil it.
IRENE: This is how I want you to remember me. The woman who beat you.
IRENE: Goodnight, Mr Sherlock Holmes.
JOHN: Jesus. What are you doing?
IRENE: He’ll sleep for a few hours. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive
corpse.
JOHN : What’s this? What have you given him? Sherlock!
IRENE: He’ll be fine. I’ve used it on loads of my friends.
JOHN: Sherlock, can you hear me?
IRENE: You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look.
JOHN : For what? What are you talking about?
IRENE: The key code to my safe.
JOHN: What was it?
IRENE: Shall I tell him?
IRENE: My measurements.
IRENE: Got it!
IRENE: Oh, shush now. Don’t get up. I’ll do the talking.
IRENE: So the car’s about to backfire ...
IRENE: ... and the hiker, he’s staring at the sky. Now, you said he could be watching birds but he wasn’t, was he?
IRENE: He was watching another kind of flying thing. The car backfires and the hiker turns to look ...
IRENE: ... which was his big mistake.
IRENE: By the time the driver looks up, the hiker’s already dead. What he doesn’t see is what killed him because it’s
already being washed downstream.
IRENE: An accomplished sportsman recently returned from foreign travel with ... a boomerang. You got that from one
look? Definitely the new sexy.
SHERLOCK (vaguely): I ...
SHERLOCK: I ...
IRENE (softly): Hush now.
IRENE (softly): It’s okay. I’m only returning your coat. 

SHERLOCK: John?
SHERLOCK (louder): John!
JOHN: You okay?
SHERLOCK: How did I get here? 







DAY 5 



MRS HUDSON: Lovely! Sherlock, that was lovely!
JOHN: Marvellous!
MRS HUDSON: I wish you could have worn the antlers!
SHERLOCK: Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson.
SHERLOCK (politely): No thank you, Sarah. 

JOHN: Uh, no, no, no, no, no. He’s not good with names.
SHERLOCK: No-no-no, I can get this.
SHERLOCK: No, Sarah was the doctor; and then there was the one with the spots; and then the one with the nose;
and then ... who was after the boring teacher?
JEANETTE: Nobody.
SHERLOCK: Jeanette!
SHERLOCK: Oh, dear Lord.
MOLLY: Hello, everyone. Sorry, hello.
MOLLY: Er, it said on the door just to come up.
SHERLOCK: Oh, everybody’s saying hullo to each other. How wonderful!
JOHN: Let me, er ... holy Mary!
LESTRADE: Wow!
MOLLY: Having a Christmas drinkies, then?
SHERLOCK: No stopping them, apparently.
MRS HUDSON: It’s the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me, so it’s almost worth it! 

JOHN: Have a seat.
SHERLOCK: John?
JOHN: Mmm?
Molly? (She turns to him.) Want a drink?
SHERLOCK: The counter on your blog: still says one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five.
JOHN (pulling a mock-angry face): Ooh, no! Christmas is cancelled!
SHERLOCK: And you’ve got a photograph of me wearing that hat!
JOHN: People like the hat.
SHERLOCK: No they don’t. What people?
MOLLY: How’s the hip?
MRS HUDSON: Ooh, it’s atrocious, but thanks for asking.
MOLLY: I’ve seen much worse, but then I do post-mortems.
MOLLY: Oh, God. Sorry.
SHERLOCK: Don’t make jokes, Molly.
MOLLY: No. Sorry. 

MOLLY: Thank you. I wasn’t expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas.
LESTRADE: That’s first thing in the morning, me and the wife. We’re back together. It’s all sorted.
SHERLOCK No, she’s sleeping with a P.E. teacher.
MOLLY: And John. I hear you’re off to your sister’s, is that right?
JOHN: Yeah.
MOLLY: Sherlock was complaining.
MOLLY: ... saying.
JOHN: First time ever, she’s cleaned up her act. She’s off the booze.
SHERLOCK: Nope.
JOHN: Shut up, Sherlock.
SHERLOCK: I see you’ve got a new boyfriend, Molly, and you’re serious about him.
MOLLY: Sorry, what?
SHERLOCK: In fact, you’re seeing him this very night and giving him a gift.
JOHN (quietly, exasperated): Take a day off.
LESTRADE : Shut up and have a drink.
SHERLOCK: Oh, come on. Surely you’ve all seen the present at the top of the bag – perfectly wrapped with a bow.
All the others are slapdash at best.
SHERLOCK: It’s for someone special, then.
SHERLOCK: The shade of red echoes her lipstick – either an unconscious association or one that she’s deliberately
trying to encourage. Either way, Miss Hooper has lurrrve on her mind. The fact that she’s serious about him is clear
from the fact she’s giving him a gift at all.
SHERLOCK: That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn; and that she’s seeing him tonight is evident
from her make-up and what she’s wearing.
SHERLOCK: Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her mouth and breasts ...
MOLLY: You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always. Always.
SHERLOCK: I am sorry. Forgive me.
SHERLOCK (softly): Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper.
MOLLY: No! That wasn’t ... I – I didn’t ...
SHERLOCK: No, it was me.
LESTRADE: My God, really?!
MOLLY: What?!
SHERLOCK: My phone.
JOHN: Fifty-seven?
SHERLOCK: Sorry, what?
JOHN: Fifty-seven of those texts – the ones I’ve heard.



SHERLOCK: ’Scuse me.

JOHN: What – what’s up, Sherlock?
SHERLOCK (continuing walking): I said excuse me.
JOHN (calling after him): D’you ever reply?
MYCROFT: Oh dear Lord. We’re not going to have Christmas phone calls now, are we? Have they passed a new
law?
SHERLOCK: I think you’re going to find Irene Adler tonight.
MYCROFT: We already know where she is. As you were kind enough to point out, it hardly matters.
SHERLOCK: No, I mean you’re going to find her dead.
JOHN: You okay?
SHERLOCK: Yes. 

MYCROFT (to Sherlock): The only one that fitted the description. Had her brought here – your home from home.
SHERLOCK: You didn’t need to come in, Molly.
MOLLY: That’s okay. Everyone else was busy with ... Christmas. 

MOLLY: The face is a bit, sort of, bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult.
MYCROFT: That’s her, isn’t it?
SHERLOCK (to Molly): Show me the rest of her.
SHERLOCK: That’s her.
MYCROFT: Thank you, Miss Hooper.
MOLLY: Who is she? How did Sherlock recognise her from ... not her face?
MYCROFT: Just the one.
SHERLOCK: Why?
MYCROFT: Merry Christmas.
SHERLOCK: Smoking indoors – isn’t there one of those ... one of those law things?
MYCROFT: We’re in a morgue. There’s only so much damage you can do.
MYCROFT: How did you know she was dead?
SHERLOCK: She had an item in her possession, one she said her life depended on. She chose to give it up.
MYCROFT: Where is this item now?
SHERLOCK: Look at them. They all care so much. Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?
MYCROFT: All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock.
SHERLOCK: This is low tar.
MYCROFT: Well, you barely knew her.
SHERLOCK: Huh!
SHERLOCK: Merry Christmas, Mycroft.
MYCROFT: And a happy New Year. я



DAY 6
JOHN: Couldn’t we just go to a café? Sherlock doesn’t follow me everywhere.
WOMAN: Through there.
WOMAN: He’s on his way. You were right – he thinks it’s Mycroft.
JOHN: He’s writing sad music; doesn’t eat; barely talks – only to correct the television. I’d say he was heartbroken
but, er, well, he’s Sherlock. He does all that anyw...
IRENE: Hello, Doctor Watson.
JOHN: Tell him you’re alive.
IRENE: He’d come after me.
JOHN: I’ll come after you if you don’t.
IRENE: Mmm, I believe you.
JOHN: You were dead on a slab. It was definitely you.
IRENE: DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep.
JOHN: And I bet you know the record-keeper.
IRENE: I know what he likes, and I needed to disappear.
JOHN: Then how come I can see you, and I don’t even want to?
IRENE: Look, I made a mistake. I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping and now I need it back, so I need your
help.
JOHN: No.
IRENE: It’s for his own safety.
JOHN: So’s this: tell him you’re alive.
IRENE: I can’t.
JOHN: Fine. I’ll tell him, and I still won’t help you.
IRENE: What do I say?
JOHN: What do you normally say? You’ve texted him a lot.
IRENE: Just the usual stuff.
JOHN: There is no ‘usual’ in this case.
IRENE: “Good morning”; “I like your funny hat”; “I’m sad tonight. Let’s have dinner”. “You looked sexy on
‘Crimewatch.’ Let’s have dinner”; “I’m not hungry, let’s have dinner”.
JOHN: You ... flirted with Sherlock Holmes?!
IRENE: At him. He never replies.
JOHN: No, Sherlock always replies – to everything. He’s Mr Punchline. He will outlive God trying to have the last
word.
IRENE: Does that make me special?
JOHN: ... I don’t know. Maybe.
IRENE: Are you jealous?
JOHN: We’re not a couple.
IRENE: Yes you are. There ... “I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner.”
JOHN: Who ... who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes, but – for the record – if anyone out there still cares, I’m
not actually gay.
IRENE: Well, I am. Look at us both.
IRENE: I don’t think so, do you?

MRS HUDSON: Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock!

SHERLOCK: Don’t snivel, Mrs Hudson. It’ll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet. What a tender world that
would be.
MRS HUDSON: Oh, please, sorry, Sherlock.
NEILSON: I believe you have something that we want, Mr Holmes.
SHERLOCK: Then why don’t you ask for it?
MRS HUDSON: Sher...
NEILSON: I’ve been asking this one. She doesn’t seem to know anything. But you know what I’m asking for, don’t
you, Mr Holmes?
SHERLOCK: I believe I do.
MRS HUDSON: Oh, please, Sherlock.
SHERLOCK: First, get rid of your boys.
NEILSON: Why?
SHERLOCK: I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room.
NEILSON: You two, go to the car.
SHERLOCK: Then get into the car and drive away. Don’t try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn’t work. Next,
you can stop pointing that gun at me.
NEILSON: So you can point a gun at me?
SHERLOCK: I’m unarmed.
NEILSON: Mind if I check?
SHERLOCK: Oh, I insist.
MRS HUDSON: Don’t do anything.
SHERLOCK: Moron.
MRS HUDSON: Oh, thank you.
SHERLOCK: You’re all right now, you’re all right.
MRS HUDSON: Yes.

JOHN: What’s going on? Jeez. What the hell is happening?

SHERLOCK: Mrs Hudson’s been attacked by an American. I’m restoring balance to the universe.
JOHN: Oh, Mrs Hudson, my God. Are you all right? Jesus, what have they done to you?
MRS HUDSON: Oh, I’m just being so silly.
JOHN: No, no.
SHERLOCK: Downstairs. Take her downstairs and look after her.
JOHN: All right, it’s all right. I’ll have a look at that.
MRS HUDSON: I’m fine, I’m fine.
JOHN: Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?
SHERLOCK: I expect so. Now go.

SHERLOCK: Lestrade. We’ve had a break-in at Baker Street. Send your least irritating officers and an ambulance.
Oh, no-no-no-no-no, we’re fine. No, it’s the, uh, it’s the burglar. He’s got himself rather badly injured. Oh, a few
broken ribs, fractured skull ... suspected punctured lung. He fell out of a window.

MRS HUDSON: Ooh, it stings. Ooh. That was right on my bins.

LESTRADE: And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?
SHERLOCK: It’s all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector. I lost count.
JOHN: She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her.
MRS HUDSON: No.
SHERLOCK: Of course, but she’s fine.
JOHN: No, she’s not. Look at her. She’s got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her
sister. Doctor’s orders.
SHERLOCK: Don’t be absurd.
JOHN: She’s in shock, for God’s sake, and all over some bloody stupid camera phone. Where is it, anyway?
SHERLOCK: Safest place I know.
MRS HUDSON: You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot. I managed to sneak it out
when they thought I was having a cry.
SHERLOCK: Thank you. Shame on you, John Watson.
JOHN: Shame on me?!
SHERLOCK: Mrs Hudson leave Baker Street? England would fall.



DAY 7

SHERLOCK: We have a client.
JOHN: What, in your bedroom?!
JOHN: Ohhh. 


SHERLOCK: So who’s after you?

IRENE: People who want to kill me.
SHERLOCK: Who’s that?
IRENE: Killers.
JOHN: It would help if you were a tiny bit more specific.
SHERLOCK: So you faked your own death in order to get ahead of them.
IRENE: It worked for a while.
SHERLOCK: Except you let John know that you were alive, and therefore me.
IRENE: I knew you’d keep my secret.
SHERLOCK: You couldn’t.
IRENE: But you did, didn’t you? Where’s my camera phone?
JOHN: It’s not here. We’re not stupid.
IRENE: Then what have you done with it? If they’ve guessed you’ve got it, they’ll be watching you.
SHERLOCK: If they’ve been watching me, they’ll know that I took a safety deposit box at a bank on the Strand a few
months ago.
IRENE: I need it.
JOHN: Well, we can’t just go and get it, can we?
JOHN: Molly Hooper. She could collect it, take it to Bart’s; then one of your homeless network could bring it here,
leave it in the café, and one of the boys downstairs could bring it up the back.
SHERLOCK (smiling): Very good, John. Excellent plan, with intelligent precautions.
JOHN: Thank you. (He picks up his phone.) So, why don’t ... Oh, for ...
SHERLOCK: So what do you keep on here – in general, I mean?
IRENE: Pictures, information, anything I might find useful.
JOHN: What, for blackmail?
IRENE: For protection. I make my way in the world; I misbehave. I like to know people will be on my side exactly
when I need them to be.
SHERLOCK: So how do you acquire this information?
IRENE: I told you – I misbehave.
SHERLOCK: But you’ve acquired something that’s more danger than protection. Do you know what it is?
IRENE: Yes, but I don’t understand it.
SHERLOCK: I assumed. Show me.
SHERLOCK: The passcode. 

IRENE: It’s not working. 

SHERLOCK: I assumed you’d choose something more specific than that but, um, thanks anyway.
IRENE: I told you that camera phone was my life. I know when it’s in my hand.
SHERLOCK: Oh, you’re rather good.
IRENE: You’re not so bad.

JOHN (abruptly): Hamish.

JOHN: John Hamish Watson – just if you were looking for baby names.
IRENE: There was a man – an MOD official. I knew what he liked.
IRENE: One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this email was going to save the world. He didn’t
know it, but I photographed it. He was a bit tied up at the time. It’s a bit small on that screen – can you read it?
SHERLOCK: Yes.
IRENE: A code, obviously. I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it – though he was
mostly upside down, as I recall. Couldn’t figure it out.
IRENE: What can you do, Mr Holmes?
IRENE: Go on. Impress a girl.
SHERLOCK: There’s a margin for error but I’m pretty sure there’s a Seven Forty-Seven leaving Heathrow tomorrow
at six thirty in the evening for Baltimore. Apparently it’s going to save the world. Not sure how that can be true but
give me a moment; I’ve only been on the case for eight seconds.
SHERLOCK: Oh, come on. It’s not code. These are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look ...
SHERLOCK (quick fire): There’s no letter ‘I’ because it can be mistaken for a ‘1’; no letters past ‘K’ – the width of
the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence but the letters have little runs of
sequence all over the place – families and couples sitting together. Only a Jumbo is wide enough to need the letter ‘K’
or rows past fifty-five, which is why there’s always an upstairs. There’s a row thirteen, which eliminates the more
superstitious airlines. Then there’s the style of the flight number – zero zero seven – that eliminates a few more; and
assuming a British point of origin, which would be logical considering the original source of the information and
assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the
criteria and departs within the week is the six thirty to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow Airport.
SHERLOCK: Please don’t feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John’s expressed the same
thought in every possible variant available to the English language.
IRENE (intensely): I would have you right here on this desk until you begged for mercy twice.
SHERLOCK (with his eyes still locked on Irene’s): John, please can you check those flight schedules; see if I’m right?
JOHN: Uh-huh. I’m on it, yeah. 

SHERLOCK: I’ve never begged for mercy in my life.
IRENE (emphatically): Twice.
JOHN: Uh, yeah, you’re right. Uh, flight double oh seven.
SHERLOCK : What did you say?
JOHN: You’re right.
SHERLOCK: No, no, no, after that. What did you say after that?
JOHN: Double oh seven. Flight double oh seven.
SHERLOCK (quietly to himself): Double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven, double oh seven ...
SHERLOCK: ... something ... something connected to double oh seven ... What?
SHERLOCK (quietly): Double oh seven, double oh seven, what, what, something, what?
MYCROFT (in flashback): Bond Air is go.




DAY 8
SHERLOCK: There’s going to be a bomb on a passenger jet. The British and American governments know about it
but rather than expose the source of that information they’re going to let it happen. The plane will blow up.
Coventry all over again. The wheel turns. Nothing is ever new.

SHERLOCK: Well, you’re lookin’ all better. How ya feelin’?

NEILSON: Like putting a bullet in your brain ... sir. They’d pin a medal on me if I did ... sir.

MYCROFT: The Coventry conundrum. What do you think of my solution? The flight of the dead.
SHERLOCK: The plane blows up mid-air. Mission accomplished for the terrorists. Hundreds of casualties, but
nobody dies.
MYCROFT: Neat, don’t you think? You’ve been stumbling round the fringes of this one for ages – or were you too
bored to notice the pattern?

LITTLE GIRL: They wouldn’t let us see Granddad when he was dead.
CREEPY GUY: She’s not my real aunt. I know human ash.

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

MYCROFT: But that’s the deceased for you – late, in every sense of the word.
SHERLOCK: How’s the plane going to fly? Of course: unmanned aircraft. Hardly new.
MYCROFT: It doesn’t fly. It will never fly. This entire project is cancelled. The terrorist cells have been informed
that we know about the bomb. We can’t fool them now. We’ve lost everything. One fragment of one email, and
months and years of planning finished.
SHERLOCK: Your MOD man.
MYCROFT: That’s all it takes: one lonely naive man desperate to show off, and a woman clever enough to make him
feel special.
SHERLOCK: Hmm. You should screen your defense people more carefully.
MYCROFT: I’m not talking about the MOD man, Sherlock; I’m talking about you. The damsel in distress. In the
end, are you really so obvious? Because this was textbook: the promise of love, the pain of loss, the joy of
redemption; then give him a puzzle ... and watch him dance.
SHERLOCK: Don’t be absurd.
MYCROFT: Absurd? How quickly did you decipher that email for her? Was it the full minute, or were you really
eager to impress?
IRENE: I think it was less than five seconds.
MYCROFT: I drove you into her path. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.
IRENE: Mr Holmes, I think we need to talk.
SHERLOCK: So do I. There are a number of aspects I’m still not quite clear on.
IRENE: Not you, Junior. You’re done now. There’s more ... loads more. On this phone I’ve got secrets, pictures and
scandals that could topple your whole world. You have no idea how much havoc I can cause and exactly one way to
stop me – unless you want to tell your masters that your biggest security leak is your own little brother.



DAY 9



MYCROFT: We have people who can get into this.
IRENE: I tested that theory for you. I let Sherlock Holmes try it for six months.
IRENE: Sherlock, dear, tell him what you found when you X-rayed my camera phone.
SHERLOCK : There are four additional units wired inside the casing, I suspect containing acid or a small amount of
explosive.
SHERLOCK: Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive.
IRENE: Explosive. (She looks at Mycroft.) It’s more me.
MYCROFT: Some data is always recoverable.
IRENE: Take that risk?
MYCROFT: You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you.
IRENE (calmly): Sherlock?
SHERLOCK: There will be two passcodes: one to open the phone, one to burn the drive. Even under duress you can’t
know which one she’s given you and there will be no point in a second attempt.
IRENE: He’s good, isn’t he? I should have him on a leash – in fact, I might.
MYCROFT: We destroy this, then. No-one has the information.
IRENE: Fine. Good idea ... unless there are lives of British citizens depending on the information you’re about to
burn.
MYCROFT: Are there?
IRENE: Telling you would be playing fair. I’m not playing any more.
IRENE: A list of my requests; and some ideas about my protection once they’re granted.
○ IRENE: I imagine you’d like to sleep on it.
MYCROFT (still reading): Thank you, yes.
IRENE: Too bad.
IRENE (to Mycroft): Off you pop and talk to people.
MYCROFT: You’ve been very ... thorough. I wish our lot were half as good as you.
IRENE: I can’t take all the credit. Had a bit of help. 

IRENE: Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love.
MYCROFT: Yes, he’s been in touch. Seems desperate for my attention ... (his voice becomes more ominous) ... which
I’m sure can be arranged.
IRENE: I had all this stuff, never knew what to do with it. Thank God for the consultant criminal. Gave me a lot of
advice about how to play the Holmes boys. D’you know what he calls you? (Softly) The Ice Man... and the Virgin.
IRENE: Didn’t even ask for anything. I think he just likes to cause trouble. Now that’s my kind of man.
MYCROFT: And here you are, the dominatrix who brought a nation to its knees.
MYCROFT: Nicely played.
SHERLOCK: No.
IRENE: Sorry?
SHERLOCK: I said no. Very very close, but no.
SHERLOCK: You got carried away. The game was too elaborate. You were enjoying yourself too much.
IRENE: No such thing as too much.
SHERLOCK: Oh, enjoying the thrill of the chase is fine, craving the distraction of the game – I sympathise entirely
– but sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.
IRENE: Sentiment? What are you talking about?
SHERLOCK: You.
IRENE : Oh dear God. Look at the poor man. You don’t actually think I was interested in you? Why? Because you’re
the great Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat?

SHERLOCK: No.
SHERLOCK: Because I took your pulse.
SHERLOCK: Elevated; your pupils dilated.
SHERLOCK: I imagine John Watson thinks love’s a mystery to me but the chemistry is incredibly simple, and very
destructive.
SHERLOCK: When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait. How true of you: the combination
to your safe – your measurements; but this .. this is far more intimate.
SHERLOCK: This is your heart ...
SHERLOCK: ... and you should never let it rule your head.
SHERLOCK: You could have chosen any random number and walked out of here today with everything you’ve
worked for ...
SHERLOCK: ... but you just couldn’t resist it, could you?
SHERLOCK: I’ve always assumed that love is a dangerous disadvantage ...
SHERLOCK: Thank you for the final proof.
IRENE (softly): Everything I said: it’s not real. (In a whisper) I was just playing the game.
SHERLOCK: I know. 

SHERLOCK: And this is just losing.
SHERLOCK: There you are, brother. I hope the contents make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you
tonight.
MYCROFT: I’m certain they will.
SHERLOCK: If you’re feeling kind, lock her up; otherwise let her go. I doubt she’ll survive long without her
protection.
IRENE: Are you expecting me to beg?
SHERLOCK: Yes.
IRENE: Please.
IRENE: You’re right.
IRENE : I won’t even last six months.
SHERLOCK: Sorry about dinner.