Ariane DeVere (arianedevere) wrote,
Ariane DeVere
arianedevere

Sherlock, Season 3, episode 1 transcript: The Empty Hearse, part 3

Sherlock, Season 3, episode 1 transcript: The Empty Hearse, part 3

Well, that was fun – writing five days’ worth of transcript in three and a half days. *wobbles unsteadily on her chair and adds another matchstick to each eyelid* Now I’m looking forward to a nice long slee... Oh.

Still, at least I’ll have five days (or even longer) to do the next one! But I doubt I’ll be putting out updates as rapidly next time, so please be patient!

verityburns’ patient and rapid cross-checking of my typing against the recording has been indispensable, as has her diplomatic quashing of my fanwriterly instinct to put my own emotional interpretations onto people’s expressions or attitudes. Thank you so much, Verity. *hugs you – and passes you a fresh set of matchsticks* xx



Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan.

Polite request: If you take extracts from this transcript for use elsewhere, and especially if you repost my own words, it would be kind if you would acknowledge the source and/or give a link back to this transcript. Thanks.

Sherlock, Season 3, episode 1 transcript: The Empty Hearse, part 3


Return to part 1 / Return to part 2


Shortly afterwards Howard Shilcott – sitting in his living room and wearing his bobble hat – is Skypeing with the boys on the laptop while Sherlock and John frantically search through maps and papers on the kitchen table at 221B.
HOWARD: There’s nothing down there, Mr Holmes, I told you. No sidings, no ghost stations.
SHERLOCK (turning the laptop around so that John can see the screen): There has to be. Check again.
(Howard leans offscreen. John is looking through a book.)
JOHN: Look – this whole area is a big mess of old and new stuff. Charing Cross is made up of bits of older stations like Trafalgar Square, Strand ...
SHERLOCK: No, it’s none of those. We’ve accounted for those.
(He looks closer at an old map.)
SHERLOCK: St Margaret’s Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street ...
HOWARD (taking the pom pom that he’s been chewing out of his mouth): Hang on, hang on. Sumatra Road. You mentioned Sumatra Road, Mr Holmes. (He leans offscreen.) There is something. I knew it rang a bell. (Muttering) Where is it? (He comes back into view.) There was a station down there.
JOHN: Well, why isn’t it on the maps?
HOWARD: ’Cause it was closed before it ever opened.
JOHN: What?
HOWARD (holding up a book to the camera to show the relevant page): They built the platforms, even the staircases, but it all got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface.
(Grinning, he points to the appropriate spot on the page. Sherlock has been slowly straightening up while Howard spoke.)
SHERLOCK: It’s right underneath the Palace of Westminster.
JOHN: And so what’s down there? A bomb?
(Sherlock walks away.)
JOHN: Oh ...
(He hurries after him, grabbing his coat as he goes.)

NEWSREADER (on the television): With many commentators saying the vote on the terrorism Bill will be too close to call, MPs are now making their way into the Chamber for what the government is calling the most important vote of this parliament. Over now to our ...
(In a hotel room, Lord Moran is lying fully dressed on the bed watching the TV. He points the remote control at the television and changes to a different channel.)
MALE VOICE (on the TV): What freedoms exactly are we protecting if we start spying on our own people? This is an Orwellian measure on a scale unprecedented ...

Sherlock and John walk briskly along the road near the Houses of Parliament and head to the stairs leading down into Westminster station. They walk across the concourse, past the fangirls, through the ticket barriers and along the corridors.
JOHN: So it’s a bomb, then? A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb.
SHERLOCK: Must be.
JOHN: Right.
(Taking off his glove, he gets his phone from his pocket.)
SHERLOCK: What are you doing?
JOHN: Calling the police.
SHERLOCK: What? No!
JOHN: Sherlock, this isn’t a game. They need to evacuate Parliament.
SHERLOCK: They’ll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient.
(Stopping at a locked maintenance entrance, he reaches into his coat, takes out a crowbar and starts to force the gate open.)
JOHN: And illegal.
SHERLOCK: A bit.
(The gate opens and the boys go inside. Sherlock pulls the gate closed behind them and they take out flashlights and start to walk down into the maintenance tunnels. A couple of paces behind Sherlock, John checks his phone, which reads, “NO SERVICE”. Sherlock raises his head as if sensing what John’s doing.)
SHERLOCK (not even looking round): What are you doing?
JOHN (sighing): Coming.
(He puts his phone away. They continue onwards for a long time, walking along narrow tunnels and walkways and climbing down steep metal ladders. Your transcriber sits back and flexes her aching fingers for a few blissful moments, secure in the knowledge that there’s no need to transcribe this bit in detail. At long last they walk onto the platform of Sumatra Road station. Sherlock shines his torch along the length of the track but there is no sign of a train.)
SHERLOCK: I don’t understand.
JOHN: Well, that’s a first!
SHERLOCK: There’s nowhere else it could be.
(He turns to face the track and brings his hands up to either side of his head, screwing his eyes shut and concentrating. In his mind, he finds himself sitting on a seat inside the missing Tube car/carriage. He is the only passenger. At the far end, smoke comes under the bottom of the cab door and pours towards him. He turns his head to look and a fireball ignites behind the smoke and then races along the carriage, engulfing Sherlock’s position and continuing onwards.
Sherlock’s mental image of himself relocates to the tunnel about a hundred yards away from the front of the carriage. The inferno billows out of the carriage towards him but just before it reaches him it is sucked up a large open vent in the tunnel’s roof.
At ground level above the Tube line, heated gas shimmers as it is forced through various air vents inside the Houses of Parliament. Outside, the perspective shifts to the opposite side of the River Thames ... and the entire Palace of Westminster goes up in a massive explosion.
Sherlock’s eyes snap open.)

SHERLOCK: Oh!
(Turning to the left, he runs towards the end of the platform.)
JOHN (chasing after him): What?
(Sherlock carefully jumps off the end of the platform onto the tracks.)
JOHN: Hang on. Sherlock?
SHERLOCK (turning back): What?
JOHN: That’s ... Isn’t it live?
SHERLOCK (setting off along the tracks): Perfectly safe as long as we avoid touching the rails.
JOHN: ’Course, yeah(!) Avoid the rails. Great(!)
(He jumps down onto the tracks.)
SHERLOCK: This way.
JOHN: You sure?
SHERLOCK: Sure.
(They don’t have to walk far before the missing carriage is revealed partway round a gentle bend.)
JOHN: Ah. Look at that.
(They continue on, then Sherlock looks up and sees the large open vent which he just saw in his mind. He shines his flashlight into it.)
SHERLOCK: John.
JOHN: Hmm?
(They both stop and shine their torches upwards, realising that there are several small explosive devices attached to the sides of the vent.)
JOHN: Demolition charges.
(They continue towards the carriage, John ducking down and shining his light underneath and around it as they approach. He blows out a long breath as they get close and again he squats down to check the underside while Sherlock looks along the side. Sherlock opens the door to the driver’s cab and they climb in and then go carefully through the opposite door into the carriage itself. Slowly they work their way along it, looking at every seat, every corner, shining their torches along the ceiling and the floor. At the second set of side doors, Sherlock slows down, paying particular attention to something. John progresses on to the very end.)
JOHN: It’s empty. There’s nothing.
(Unfortunately, he’s wrong. Sherlock has already spotted a pair of intertwined black and red cables strung along the wall and down to one of the seat backs.)
SHERLOCK: Isn’t there?
(John turns back and points his torch where Sherlock is gently lifting the cushion, bending low to shine his light underneath. Sherlock lifts his head and looks round at him.)
SHERLOCK: This is the bomb.
JOHN: What?
(Sherlock stands up and lifts the cushion all the way up. The cavity underneath is full of wired-up explosives.)
SHERLOCK: It’s not carrying explosives. The whole compartment is the bomb.
(He and John work their way along the carriage, lifting other cushions at random. Each one has an identical explosive device under it.)

In his hotel room, Moran opens a briefcase and lifts the lid. Inside is what is clearly a detonator – it has a small screen, a number pad, a slot for a key, and a Let’sSendTheWorldToHell button which almost disappointingly is neither very big nor painted red. A couple of keys lie beside the device.

While John continues lifting seat cushions, Sherlock looks around the carriage and then takes a few steps along the aisle before realising that a floor panel is loose. As John looks down at the latest batch of explosives, Sherlock takes off his gloves and bends to the panel, forcing his fingers into the gap and lifting it. Underneath is what can only be described as the ‘mother bomb’ – a device massively larger than the ones under the cushions. While John takes several deep nervous breaths, Sherlock props the panel up against the wall of the train. They both look down at the massive device, then John looks up at Sherlock.

JOHN: We need bomb disposal.
SHERLOCK: There may not be time for that now.
JOHN: So what do we do?
SHERLOCK (after a brief pause): I have no idea.
JOHN (sternly): Well, think of something.
SHERLOCK: Why d’you think I know what to do?
JOHN: Because you’re Sherlock Holmes. You’re as clever as it gets.
SHERLOCK: Doesn’t mean I know how to defuse a giant bomb. What about you?
JOHN: I wasn’t in bomb disposal. I’m a bloody doctor.
SHERLOCK (angrily pointing his torch at him): And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all.
(John looks down at the countdown clock currently frozen at 2:30.)
JOHN: Can’t-can’t we rip the timer off, or something?
SHERLOCK: That would set it off.
JOHN: You see? You know things.
(Sherlock turns away, sighing.)

In his room, Moran types the code 051113 onto the number pad. He inserts one of the keys into its slot and turns it. The device beeps. He releases the key, then reaches to the Not Big Red Button and presses it.

In the Tube carriage, all the lights come on and the countdown clock on the mother bomb begins to tick down. The boys look around in shock, and John groans.

SHERLOCK: Er ...
JOHN (breathing fast): My God!
(Sherlock paces away from him.)
SHERLOCK: Er ...
JOHN: Why didn’t you call the police?
SHERLOCK: Please just ...
JOHN (furiously): Why do you never call the police?
SHERLOCK: Well, it’s no use now.

2:15

JOHN (angrily): So you can’t switch the bomb off. You can’t switch the bomb off and you didn’t call the police.
(He turns away for a moment, then turns back again. Sherlock looks at him.)
SHERLOCK: Go, John. (He points towards the driver’s cab.) Go now.
JOHN: There’s no point now, is there, because there’s not enough time to get away; and if we don’t do this ... (he gestures down to the mother bomb) ... other people will die!

1:57

(He looks down at the clock for a moment, then points at Sherlock.)
JOHN: Mind Palace.
SHERLOCK: Hmm?
JOHN: Use your Mind Palace.
SHERLOCK: How will that help?
JOHN: You’ve salted away every fact under the sun!
SHERLOCK: Oh, and you think I’ve just got “How To Defuse A Bomb” tucked away in there somewhere?
JOHN: Yes!
(Sherlock thinks about it for a second.)

SHERLOCK: Maybe.
(He brings his fingers up to the sides of his face and screws his eyes shut.)
JOHN (intensely): Think.
(Sherlock lifts his head a little, still concentrating.)

JOHN (softly): Think. Please think.
(Sherlock groans.)
JOHN: Think!
(Sherlock’s hands come away from his face and flail, while his eyes remain closed and he continues to make groaning noises. John closes his eyes, shaking his head as the noises get louder and finally Sherlock lets out a cry and opens his eyes. He breathes heavily for a moment, then he lowers his hands and looks at John with a blank but apologetic look on his face. John stares at him in disbelief.)

JOHN: Oh my God.
(He turns away. Sherlock tears his scarf from around his neck and doubles over, burying his head in his hands, still making incoherent groaning noises. He drops to his knees next to the bomb while John wanders a little way down the carriage.)
JOHN: This is it.
(Behind him, Sherlock is flailing uselessly over the bomb.)
SHERLOCK: Um, er ...
(John stops and stares into space.)
JOHN (softly): Oh my God.
SHERLOCK (still patting around the device and mumbling vaguely): Turn that off. Oh God! Er, um, er ...

1:29

(John turns back towards him, and Sherlock raises his head.)
SHERLOCK (softly): I’m sorry.
(John screws his eyes closed for a moment, then looks at him again.)
JOHN: What?
SHERLOCK (softly, his eyes starting to fill with tears): I can’t ... I can’t do it, John. I don’t know how.
(He straightens up on his knees.)
SHERLOCK: Forgive me?
JOHN (tightly, furiously): What?
SHERLOCK (bringing his hands up into a praying position): Please, John, forgive me ... for all the hurt that I caused you.
JOHN (waving a finger at him): No, no, no, no, no, no. This is a trick.
SHERLOCK: No.
JOHN: Another one of your bloody tricks.
SHERLOCK: No.
JOHN: You’re just trying to make me say something nice.
(Sherlock chuckles briefly.)
SHERLOCK: Not this time.
JOHN: It’s just to make you look good even though you behaved like ...
(He grimaces, fighting back tears, and turns away as he tries to steady his breathing. Sherlock moves away from the bomb and sits on the edge of one of the nearby seats. John grips one of the handrails, looking down at the floor, then stamps his foot furiously. His voice is low but savage when he speaks.)
JOHN: I wanted you not to be dead.
SHERLOCK: Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for.
(John sighs.)
SHERLOCK: If I hadn’t come back, you wouldn’t be standing there and ...
(Baring his teeth, John turns away, shaking his head.)
SHERLOCK: ... you’d still have a future ... with Mary.
JOHN (turning and pointing at him): Yeah. I know.
(He grimaces and turns away again. Sherlock clenches his fist against his mouth, then wipes his nose, his face full of despair. Finally John turns back.)
JOHN (his voice low and tight): Look, I find it difficult.
(Sherlock nods, his head lowered.)
JOHN: I find it difficult, this sort of stuff.
SHERLOCK (looking up at him): I know.
(John blows out a breath, lowering his head, then he straightens up and looks at Sherlock.)
JOHN (his voice not much more than a whisper): You were the best and the wisest man ... (he sniffs) ... that I have ever known.
(Sherlock looks at him, his eyes wide and tear-filled. John sighs, lowering his head again before raising it once more.)
JOHN: Yes, of course I forgive you.
(Sherlock gazes at him. John meets his eyes for a moment, then he takes in a deep breath through his nose, closes his eyes, raises his head and braces himself for death.)

The scene whites out.

From the point of view of a video camera, Sherlock is sitting on a sofa in front of a window and looking directly into the camera.

SHERLOCK: The criminal network Moriarty headed was vast.
(Cutaway shot of Sherlock standing beside Mycroft as he sits in his office in the Diogenes Club. Mycroft appears to be reading a report; Sherlock is looking at his phone.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): Its roots were everywhere like a cancer, so we came up with a plan.
(Mycroft starts to type on his laptop. Sherlock leans down to look at the screen.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): Mycroft fed Moriarty information about me.
(Flashback to Mycroft walking into Jim’s cell, and Jim closing his eyes delightedly.)
SHERLOCK (part voiceover, part into the camera): Moriarty in turn gave us hints – just hints – as to the extent of his web. We let him go ...
(Flashback to Jim being taken into court for his trial.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): ... because it was important to let him believe he had the upper hand. (Into camera) And then I sat back and watched Moriarty destroy my reputation bit by bit.
(Flashback to Sherlock sitting on the floor in the lab at Bart’s, repeatedly bouncing a small ball off the cupboard in front of him.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): I had to make him believe he’d beaten me, utterly defeated me, and then he’d show his hand.
(Various flashbacks of Sherlock and Jim on the rooftop, interspersed with Sherlock continuing to bounce the ball in the lab, and shots of Sherlock on the roof looking around the area surrounding Bart’s as if calculating escape routes.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): There were thirteen likely scenarios once we were up on that roof. Each of them were rigorously worked out and given a code name. It wasn’t just my reputation that Moriarty needed to bury – I had to die.
(Brief shot of Sherlock falling from the roof and John’s anguished cry of his name.)
(Flashback to the roof.)

JIM: You can have me arrested ...
(Flashback to Mrs Hudson in the hallway of 221, bringing a mug of tea to the workman which he gratefully accepts, then – out of her sight – puts one of his tools into his toolbox, revealing the pistol and silencer lying inside.)
JIM: ... you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me ...
(Flashback to the plain clothes police officer looking ominously round to Greg in his office.)
JIM: ... but nothing’s gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger.
(Flashback to the sniper assembling his rifle in a building overlooking the pavement outside Bart’s, while John is in a taxi on his way back to the hospital.)
JIM: Your only three friends in the world will die ... unless ...
SHERLOCK: ... unless I kill myself – complete your story.
(Jim nods and smiles ecstatically.)
JIM: You’ve gotta admit that’s sexier.
(Flashback to Sherlock shaking Jim’s hand.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): But the one thing I didn’t anticipate was just how far Moriarty was prepared to go. I suppose that was obvious, given our first meeting at the swimming pool – his death wish.
(Flashback to Moriarty shoving the pistol into his mouth and pulling the trigger, and Sherlock’s cry of alarm as he recoils in shock, then looks around and slowly goes to the edge of the roof.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): I knew I didn’t have long. I contacted my brother; set the wheels in motion.
(On the roof, Sherlock types a single word – LAZARUS – into his phone and sends the message.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): And then everyone got to work.
(On the ground, a group of men carry a giant airbag – currently deflated – out into the street. Molly looks out of the window. Sherlock steps up onto the ledge. Beside the ambulance station, on the other side to where John will later stand, the team is rolling out the airbag. Molly closes her eyes briefly, then looks upwards. Standing a short distance away from the hospital, a woman looks up towards the roof as if awaiting a signal. John’s taxi continues on its way to the hospital. As the airbag team continue their work, other people are standing and waiting. One of them has a stethoscope around his neck. The first woman looks around and sees the man on the cycle waiting nearby, one foot on a pedal and ready to go. A few feet away a second cyclist pushes his bike into position. The first cyclist has an earpiece in his ear, and many of the others – possibly all of them – do too. A faint male voice can be heard, presumably relaying instructions through the earpieces. John’s taxi turns into the road near the ambulance station, and a large group of men comes around the corner behind it. The taxi pulls up. Sherlock takes his phone from his pocket and sees a reply to his earlier text:

LAZARUS IS GO

John gets out of the taxi and heads towards the hospital, taking Sherlock’s phone call as he goes. Unseen by John – whose view is blocked by the ambulance station – the truck full of rubbish bags is in position by the bus stop, several people are waiting by the wall of the ambulance station, and the airbag is inflating at the other side of the station.)
SHERLOCK (over phone): It’s a trick. Just a magic trick.
JOHN (into phone): All right, stop it now.
SHERLOCK: No, stay exactly where you are. Don’t move.
(On the far side of the station, the team is carrying the airbag forward with blowers still attached to it as it continues to inflate.
John’s attention is fully focussed on Sherlock.)

JOHN (into phone): All right.
(The team puts the airbag down on the road just behind the truck.)
SHERLOCK: Keep your eyes fixed on me. (His voice becomes frantic.) Please, will you do this for me?
(The woman takes a phone call, and the second cyclist gets onto his bike.
Sherlock lowers his phone to his side, then drops it onto the roof.)

SHERLOCK (voiceover): It was vital that John stayed just where I put him. That way, his view was blocked by the ambulance station.
(John lowers his own phone and screams upwards.)
JOHN: SHERLOCK!
(Sherlock spreads his arms to either side and falls forward, plummeting towards the ground. Inside the building, Molly gasps as he falls past her window. We see from John’s point of view that the last thirty feet or so of the fall are blocked from his view by the station.
Unseen by him, Sherlock is plunging towards the airbag, twisting as he goes.)

SHERLOCK (voiceover): I needed to hit the airbag – which I did.
(He has turned himself onto his back in mid-air and makes a perfect landing in the centre of the airbag. Immediately everyone else springs into action, starting to run into position.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): Speed was paramount.
(He scrambles towards the edge, the team pushing the bag down to help him get off quickly.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): The airbag needed to be got out of the way just as John cleared the station.
(The moment Sherlock is on the ground, the team picks up the airbag and starts to run towards the left-hand side of the station. John starts to run along the right-hand side of the station. More extras are running into position.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): But we needed him to see a body.
(Inside the hospital, a body is lying on a stretcher dressed in a Belstaff coat and a blue scarf. Molly and two male team members haul the body up and shove it out of the open window. The body impacts the ground directly below where Sherlock fell.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): That’s where Molly came in.
(He runs with the airbag team as they head around the left side of the station. On the other side of the station, the cyclist is pedalling after John.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): Like figures on a weather clock, we went one way, John went the other.
(John runs to the corner of the station, then slows down and stops in the middle of the road as he gets his first glimpse of the still figure lying on the pavement. The extras are already starting to gather around it, and the truck drives away.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): Then our well-timed cyclist ...
(The cyclist slams into John and sends him crashing to the ground.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): ... put John briefly out of action ...
(At the other side of the station, a man is applying fake blood to Sherlock’s head. Two men come out of the hospital gates and race towards the body.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): ... giving me time to switch places with the corpse on the pavement.
(The two men pick up the body and drag it away. While John lies on the ground struggling to remain conscious, Sherlock races in and lies on the pavement, while the extras run in to surround him. The body is dragged back into the hospital grounds and the gates are closed.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): The rest was just window dressing.
(A woman kneels down and pours a bag of blood onto the pavement around Sherlock’s head, and the man with the stethoscope applies more blood to Sherlock’s face. Grimacing with pain, John rolls onto his side and looks across to the pavement.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): And one final touch ...
(While the extras finish applying blood to him, Sherlock reaches into his coat pocket and takes out the rubber ball he was playing with earlier.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): ... a squash ball under the armpit.
(He reaches inside his shirt and pushes the ball under his right arm.)
SHERLOCK (voiceover): Apply enough pressure and it momentarily cuts off the pulse.
(Slowly John hauls himself to his feet and stumbles across the road, while one of the extras checks Sherlock’s right wrist to make sure there’s no pulse. John finally reaches the crowd.)
JOHN: Let me come through, please.
(The bystanders try to hold him back.)
WOMAN: It’s all right ...
JOHN: No, he’s my friend.
WOMAN: It’s all right, it’s all right.
JOHN: No, he’s my friend.
(The woman continues trying to reassure him as John pushes forward to take hold of Sherlock’s wrist.)
JOHN: He’s my friend. Please, let me just check ...
(The bystanders pull him away. A stretcher is wheeled over and, while John watches in anguish, the body is lifted onto it.)

In front of the video camera, Sherlock looks dispassionately into the lens. Anderson is sitting on a chair on the other side of the camera. They are in Anderson’s living room.

SHERLOCK: Everything was anticipated; every eventuality allowed for. It worked ... (he smiles slightly) ... perfectly.
ANDERSON: Molly? Molly Hooper? She was in on it?
SHERLOCK: Yes. You remember the little girl who was abducted by Moriarty?
(Flashback to Claudette Bruhl screaming at the sight of Sherlock and pointing at him, and Lestrade dragging him out of the room.)
LESTRADE: Get out!
(Brief flashback of Anderson and Sally Donovan standing in front of Lestrade while they made him consider Sherlock’s guilt.)
SHERLOCK: You assumed she reacted like that because I was her kidnapper. But I deduced Moriarty must have found someone who looked very like me to plant suspicion, and that that man – whoever he was – had to be got out of the way as soon as his usefulness ended. That meant there was a corpse in a morgue somewhere that looked just like me.
(Anderson nods.)
ANDERSON: Clever.
SHERLOCK: Molly found the body, faked the records, and I provided the other coat. I’ve got lots of coats.
ANDERSON: And what about the sniper aiming at John?
SHERLOCK: Mycroft’s men intervened before he could take the shot. He was invited to reconsider.
(Cutaway shot to Mycroft answering his ringing phone.)
MYCROFT: Is it done?
(He listens for a moment.)
MYCROFT: Good.
(He hangs up.)
ANDERSON: And your homeless network?
SHERLOCK: As I explained, the whole street was closed off ... (he smiles) ... like a scene from a play.
(Anderson looks at him thoughtfully.)
SHERLOCK: Neat, don’t you think?
(Anderson looks off to the side.)
ANDERSON: Hmm.
SHERLOCK: What?
(Anderson shrugs.)
ANDERSON: Not the way I’d have done it.
SHERLOCK (folding his arms): Oh really?
ANDERSON: No, I’m not saying it’s not clever, but ...
SHERLOCK (sternly): What?
(Anderson shrugs again and waves his arm about as if he’s searching for the right words.)
ANDERSON: ... Bit ... disappointed.
(Sherlock sighs.)
SHERLOCK: Everyone’s a critic. Anyway, that’s not why I came.
ANDERSON: No?
SHERLOCK: No. I think you know why I’m here, Phillip. “How I Did It” by Jack the Ripper?
(Anderson looks at him wide-eyed, his mouth opening but no words coming out for a moment. He lowers his head.)
ANDERSON: Didn’t you think it was intriguing? (He looks up hopefully.)
SHERLOCK (standing up): Lurid. A case so sensational, you hoped I’d be interested. But you overdid it, Phillip – you and your little ‘fan club.’
(He starts to pace around him.)
ANDERSON: I just couldn’t live with myself, knowing that I’d driven you to ... (He stops.)
SHERLOCK: But you didn’t. You were always right. I wasn’t dead.
ANDERSON (staring up at him while he continues to pace): No. No, and everything’s okay now, isn’t it?
SHERLOCK: Yeah.
(Anderson laughs in a relieved way.)
SHERLOCK (stopping and looking down at him): Of course you’ve wasted police time, perverted the course of justice, risked distracting me from a massive terrorist assault that could have both destroyed Parliament and caused the death of hundreds of people.
ANDERSON (tearfully): Oh, God.
(He breaks down in tears, grabbing Sherlock and pulling him close.)
ANDERSON: Oh, God, I’m sorry, Sherlock. I’m so sorry.
(He hangs on to him and weeps against his coat. Looking uncomfortable, Sherlock tentatively pats him on the shoulder a couple of times.)
ANDERSON (abruptly stopping crying and looking round): Hang on.
(He stands up and walks over to his wall of papers.)
ANDERSON: That doesn’t make sense.
(Behind him Sherlock rolls his eyes and quietly sighs with an exasperated sound.)
ANDERSON: How could you be sure John would stand on that exact spot? I mean, what if he’d moved?
(Sherlock turns and quietly leaves the room.)
ANDERSON (oblivious to his departure): Hey – how did you do it all so quickly? What if the bike hadn’t hit him? (Suspiciously) And anyway, why are you telling me all this? (He chuckles.) If you’d pulled that off, I’m the last person you’d tell the truth ...
(Turning around, he trails off when he realises that he’s alone in the room. He stares for a moment, then chuckles. He switches between looking at all his paperwork and looking to where Sherlock had been standing.)
ANDERSON (quietly, sounding amused): Sherlock Holmes!
(He chuckles again, pointing to the spot where Sherlock had just been standing.)
ANDERSON (even softer, with a combination of amusement and exasperation): Sherlock!
(His chuckle slowly develops into laughter, and then into hysterical laughter as he starts tearing at the papers on the wall, ripping them off and whooping and giggling. Eventually he collapses in the corner, rising up onto his knees to continue clawing at the papers and still laughing hysterically until he slumps back down again.)

The whited-out scene fades back in again and John is standing in the Tube carriage with his eyes closed and his head raised. He grips the handrail and lowers his head, blowing out a long breath. Nearby it sounds as if Sherlock is crying. His head is lowered and the back of his hand is across his mouth while his body shakes with what seem to be sobs. John screws his eyes even more tightly closed. Sherlock lowers his hand and turns his head away, then turns back, hooting with laughter. John opens his eyes and looks across to him as Sherlock giggles in high-pitched hilarity. Staring at him, John steps forward and looks down at the countdown clock on the mother bomb. It is repeatedly flicking back and forth between 1:28 and 1:29. John turns away as if he can’t believe it.
Flashback to Sherlock frantically staring down at the bomb while John turns away. Sherlock’s gaze immediately falls on a small switch on the side of the bomb. He grins, then squeezes his fingers down the side of the device to flick the switch.
In the present, John turns back to look at the clock again and then stares upwards in disbelief.

JOHN: You ...
(Sherlock stands up, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks.)
SHERLOCK (laughing hysterically): Oh, your face!
JOHN: ... utter ...
SHERLOCK: Your face!
JOHN: You ...
(Sherlock grins.)
SHERLOCK: I totally had you.
JOHN: You cock! I knew it! I knew it! You f...
SHERLOCK (simultaneously): Oh, those things you said – such sweet things! I-I never knew you cared(!)
JOHN (glaring at him): I will kill you if you ever breathe a word of this ...
SHERLOCK (grinning while holding up two fingers in a Boy Scout’s salute): Scout’s honour.
JOHN: ... to anyone. You KNEW!
SHERLOCK: Ahh. (He squats down to the bomb.)
JOHN (furiously): You knew how to turn it off!
SHERLOCK: There’s an Off switch.
JOHN: What?
SHERLOCK: There’s always an Off switch.
(John bends down to look at the switch.)
SHERLOCK (standing up again): Terrorists can get into all sorts of problems unless there’s an Off switch.
JOHN (tightly): So why did you let me go through all that?
SHERLOCK: I didn’t lie altogether. I’ve absolutely no idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off.
(He chuckles and wipes the tears off his cheeks.)
SHERLOCK: Oh!
(Through the open door of the driver’s cab, a voice over a walkie-talkie radio can be heard, and flashlight beams are approaching along the tunnel. John stares, then points towards them.)
JOHN: And you did call the police.
SHERLOCK: ’Course I called the police.
(Three armed officers are approaching, flashlights shining from their raised rifles.)
JOHN: I’m definitely gonna kill you.
SHERLOCK: Oh, please(!) Killing me – that’s so two years ago.
(Quirking a smile at John, he turns and heads towards the driver’s cab. Despite himself, John lets out a silent laugh. Sherlock chuckles as he continues on, and John lets out an exasperated sigh.)

HOTEL. A uniformed female member of staff wheels a trolley along the corridor, presumably on her way to deliver a meal to one of the rooms. She passes Room 305 and the camera stops and focuses on the door. Your transcriber – exhausted and almost delirious by now – raises her eyebrows and hopes very much that this is the room in which Sherlock and John are celebrating their reunion. Sadly, it’s Lord Moran who opens the door and looks cautiously up and down the corridor before picking up his briefcase and leaving the room. When he gets to the lift he presses the Down button repeatedly, clearly not understanding that, like traffic lights, pushing the button more than once will never make things happen more quickly. It doesn’t matter anyway, because almost immediately a gun is cocked behind his head and the muzzle held to the back of his neck. The gun is being held by the uniformed woman we just saw. As Moran raises his hands, two men run towards him from opposite directions, also aiming pistols at him.

BAKER STREET. DAY TIME. Outside the door to 221, reporters and photographers are milling around in the road. Over a phone can be heard the song
“Do you hear the people sing?” from ‘Les Miserables.’ Mycroft’s voice comes over the phone, his tone desperate.
MYCROFT’s VOICE: Sherlock, please. I beg of you. You can take over at the interval.
(Sherlock is in his bedroom, walking over to the wardrobe mirror and one-handedly buttoning his jacket over the Purple Shirt of Sex™.)
SHERLOCK (into phone): Oh, I’m sorry, brother dear, but you made a promise. There’s nothing I can do to help.
MYCROFT (over phone): But you don’t understand the pain of it – the horror!
(Grinning, Sherlock ends the call and turns to John who is approaching along the corridor.)
JOHN: Come on. You’ll have to go down. They want the story.
(Rolling his eyes, Sherlock walks past him.)
SHERLOCK: In a minute.
(They walk into the living room where Mary is sitting on the sofa holding a glass of champagne. Mrs Hudson sits in the nearby chair and Greg is sitting in John’s chair, also holding a champagne glass. Sherlock pops the cork on a new bottle and walks across the room with the bottle and a glass, kneeling down beside the coffee table to pour.)
MRS HUDSON: Oh, I’m really pleased, Mary. Have you set a date?
MARY: Er, well we thought May.
MRS HUDSON: Oh! Spring wedding!
MARY: Yeah. Well, once we’ve actually got engaged.
JOHN: Yeah.
MARY (looking pointedly at Sherlock): We were interrupted last time.
JOHN: Yeah.
(Sherlock smiles at her.)
LESTRADE: Well, I can’t wait.
(He raises his glass in a toast. John, who has just put his jacket on, smiles round at him. Putting down the glass he just poured, Sherlock stands up and walks towards the far window.)
MARY: You will be there, Sherlock?
SHERLOCK: Weddings – not really my thing.
(He looks across and winks at her. She smiles.
The door opens.)

MOLLY: Hello, everyone.
JOHN: Hey, Molly.
MOLLY (holding hands with the man accompanying her): This is Tom.
(John stares at her boyfriend, almost does a double-take and then looks across the room to where Sherlock is looking out of the window.)
MOLLY: Tom, this is everyone.
TOM: Hi.
(John continues to look at him in surprise. The man could practically cosplay Sherlock at any respectable fandom convention. He is tall and slender, has dark curly hair – a little shorter than Sherlock’s – and has large pale blue eyes and prominent cheekbones. He is wearing a dark coat with the collar turned up and the scarf around his neck is tied the same way that Sherlock ties his.)
LESTRADE: Hi.
TOM: It’s really nice to meet you all. (He looks at John.) Hi.
(John looks him up and down, grinning, then finally pulls himself together.)
JOHN: Wow. Yeah, hi. I’m John. (He shakes his hand.) Good to meet you.
(He looks across to Sherlock, who turns round from the window.)
SHERLOCK: Ready?
JOHN: Ready.
(Tom turns to meet Sherlock, who smiles down at Greg as he walks past him, then catches sight of Tom for the first time. He stops dead and his eyes widen. Tom looks at him equally wide-eyed as Sherlock gives him the once-over from his feet upwards.)
LESTRADE (walking across the room behind them): Champagne?
MOLLY: Yes.
(Sherlock’s jaw drops open a little and he turns his eyes towards John, who grins back at him expectantly. Finally Sherlock holds out his hand to Tom, and they shake hands. Glancing down at Molly, Sherlock walks in between the couple and out of the door. Tom turns to watch him go.
Greg hands Molly a glass of champagne.)

MOLLY: Thanks.
(John starts to follow Sherlock, but stops briefly to take another look at Tom, who is taking a glass from Greg.)
TOM: Thank you.
(Still apparently not quite able to take in the similarity, John heads out of the room and closes the door behind him. Mrs Hudson gestures Tom towards the sofa.)
MRS HUDSON: Sit down, love.
TOM: Oh, thanks.
(As he walks over there, Greg turns to Molly.)
LESTRADE: So, um, is it serious, you two?
MOLLY (smiling): Yeah! I’ve moved on!
(A little doubtfully, Greg looks across to Tom who is already being chatted to by Mary and Mrs H.
Outside on the landing, John walks over to Sherlock, who is looping his scarf around his neck. John points back towards the door.)

JOHN (quietly): Did you, er ...?
SHERLOCK (quietly): I’m not saying a word.
JOHN: No, best not.
(Sherlock looks down at how he has just tied his scarf, then throws up his hands with an exasperated expression and sighs. John looks at the door again, then turns back to Sherlock.)
JOHN: I’m still waiting.
SHERLOCK: Hmm?
JOHN: Why did they try and kill me? If they knew you were on to them, why go after me – put me in the bonfire?
SHERLOCK (picking up his coat): I don’t know. I don’t like not knowing.
(He trots down the stairs, John following.)
SHERLOCK: Unlike the nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat.
(He stops at the bottom of the stairs to put on his coat. John stops a couple of steps from the bottom.)
SHERLOCK: I don’t know who was behind all this, but I will find out, I promise you.
JOHN: Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.
SHERLOCK (not looking round): Hmm?
JOHN: Being back. Being a hero again.
SHERLOCK: Oh, don’t be stupid.
JOHN: You’d have to be an idiot not to see it. You love it.
SHERLOCK (turning to face him): Love what?
JOHN: Being Sherlock Holmes.
SHERLOCK: I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.
(He turns and walks down the hall, putting on his gloves.)
JOHN: Sherlock, you are gonna tell me how you did it? How you jumped off that building and survived?
SHERLOCK (stopping but not turning round): You know my methods, John. I am known to be indestructible.
JOHN: No, but seriously. When you were dead, I went to your grave.
SHERLOCK: I should hope so.
JOHN: I made a little speech. I actually spoke to you.
SHERLOCK (turning to look at him): I know. I was there.
JOHN: I asked you for one more miracle. I asked you to stop being dead.
SHERLOCK (softly): I heard you.
(They look at each other for a moment, then Sherlock draws in a sharp breath and turns round.)
SHERLOCK: Anyway, time to go and be Sherlock Holmes.
(He smiles and starts towards the door, then hesitates for a moment and grimaces slightly before reaching to the coat rack. Taking his deerstalker from its peg, he puts it onto his head and tugs it into position, then opens the front door and goes out to meet the reporters as they gather round him, taking photos and shouting questions. John closes the door and steps to his side.)

Somewhere in a creepy-looking storage room, or laboratory, or warehouse, many rows of shelves are filled with files and folders. Displayed around the room are grotesque dolls, stuffed animals and unpleasant-looking sculptures. At the end of the room, a man wearing thin-rimmed glasses is watching film or CCTV footage displayed on the wall. It shows several angles of John being rescued from the bonfire. Some of it is on a loop, and Mary’s anguished cry of “John!” repeats several times while Sherlock drags John out from underneath the bonfire. The man watches intently as the footage repeats over and over again, and his gaze finally settles on a freeze-frame of Sherlock leaning down to the fire just before he pulls John free. The man looks fixedly at Sherlock’s image ... and his pupils rapidly contract.





For a partial transcript of the DVD commentary for this episode, click here.

A full list of episode transcripts, DVD commentary summaries/transcripts, and transcripts of the DVD special features can be found here.

Direct links to episode transcripts:
A Study in Pink (pilot) / A Study in Pink (broadcast) / The Blind Banker / The Great Game
A Scandal in Belgravia / The Hounds of Baskerville / The Reichenbach Fall
Many Happy Returns / The Empty Hearse / The Sign of Three / His Last Vow
The Abominable Bride
The Six Thatchers / The Lying Detective / The Final Problem


Or, to download the Episode Transcripts in Word or PDF, click here.



Tags: sherlock, sherlock episode transcript, transcript
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