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[Cuts to Holmes retelling the story to Clarkie in a carriage]
Sherlock Holmes: Of course, she misinterpreted my meaning entirely.
Constable Clark: Naturally, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: That's why I find this modern religious fervor so troubling. There's no room for misunderstanding.
Constable Clark: Faith runs right over reason, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Indeed. And chamber maids were once such a liberal breed.
Constable Clark: My wife's a chamber maid, sir. [pause] Anyhow, it's a good thing she was offended, sir. Otherwise we'd never have found you. The Inspector's been over to Baker Street himself twice this morning, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, yes.
[Another pause]
Constable Clark: Just joking about the wife, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Of course, she misinterpreted my meaning entirely.
Constable Clark: Naturally, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: That's why I find this modern religious fervor so troubling. There's no room for misunderstanding.
Constable Clark: Faith runs right over reason, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Indeed. And chamber maids were once such a liberal breed.
Constable Clark: My wife's a chamber maid, sir. [pause] Anyhow, it's a good thing she was offended, sir. Otherwise we'd never have found you. The Inspector's been over to Baker Street himself twice this morning, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, yes.
[Another pause]
Constable Clark: Just joking about the wife, sir.
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[Dredger grabs the taser from Holmes after Holmes accuses him of working for Blackwood]
Dredger: Cours, petit lapin, cours. ["Run, little rabbit, run."]
Holmes: Avec plaisir. ["With pleasure."]
Dredger: Cours, petit lapin, cours. ["Run, little rabbit, run."]
Holmes: Avec plaisir. ["With pleasure."]
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[Holmes & Watson are searching Luke Reordan's apartment]
Sherlock Holmes: There's one odour I can't put my finger on. Is it candy floss, molasses… maple syrup? Ah! Barley sugar. [Watson turns around to see two of Blackwood's henchmen enter, one holding a …]
John Watson: Toffee apple.
Sherlock Holmes: [eyes the second thug's gasoline can] Let me guess … judging by your arsonist's tool kit, you're here to burn down the building, and extinguish all evidence therein.
First Thug: Just one minute, boys! [calls] Oh, Dredger!
[Dredger enters, Holmes and Watson look up … and up]
Dredger: Il y a un problème? ["Is there a problem?"]
Sherlock Holmes: [pointing his cane to Dredger and then to the thugs] Meat … or potatoes?
John Watson: My ten minutes are up.
[The three thugs attack them; Watson takes on the two short thugs while Holmes engages Dredger; Dredger grabs Holmes by the neck and throws him across a table into a wall; after this, Holmes staggers to his feet]
Sherlock Holmes: Un moment, s'il vous plaît … ["One moment, please."]
Dredger: Je ne suis pas pressé. ["I'm in no hurry."]
[Holmes whacks Dredger with a pipe until he accidentally strikes a column; Holmes manages to grab an odd copper wand-like object; when he puts the tips to Dredger's chest, it sends Dredger flying backwards and straight through a wall; Holmes gets to his feet, and after recharging the taser-wand, he hears sounds from behind the wall; eventually, we hear a few crashes, and Dredger shoves open two other doors, carrying a small knife]
Dredger: [rising unsteadily to his feet] Un moment, s'il vous plaît … ["One moment, please …"]
[Holmes uses the taser to send an electric shock through a pipe to a knife that Dredger is holding, causing him to go flying backwards against the thug that is holding Watson at knifepoint, crushing the thug; Holmes then blows out a bit of smoke from the taser]
John Watson: [in surprise] Holmes, what is that?
Sherlock Holmes: Je ne sais pas. ["I don't know."]
Sherlock Holmes: There's one odour I can't put my finger on. Is it candy floss, molasses… maple syrup? Ah! Barley sugar. [Watson turns around to see two of Blackwood's henchmen enter, one holding a …]
John Watson: Toffee apple.
Sherlock Holmes: [eyes the second thug's gasoline can] Let me guess … judging by your arsonist's tool kit, you're here to burn down the building, and extinguish all evidence therein.
First Thug: Just one minute, boys! [calls] Oh, Dredger!
[Dredger enters, Holmes and Watson look up … and up]
Dredger: Il y a un problème? ["Is there a problem?"]
Sherlock Holmes: [pointing his cane to Dredger and then to the thugs] Meat … or potatoes?
John Watson: My ten minutes are up.
[The three thugs attack them; Watson takes on the two short thugs while Holmes engages Dredger; Dredger grabs Holmes by the neck and throws him across a table into a wall; after this, Holmes staggers to his feet]
Sherlock Holmes: Un moment, s'il vous plaît … ["One moment, please."]
Dredger: Je ne suis pas pressé. ["I'm in no hurry."]
[Holmes whacks Dredger with a pipe until he accidentally strikes a column; Holmes manages to grab an odd copper wand-like object; when he puts the tips to Dredger's chest, it sends Dredger flying backwards and straight through a wall; Holmes gets to his feet, and after recharging the taser-wand, he hears sounds from behind the wall; eventually, we hear a few crashes, and Dredger shoves open two other doors, carrying a small knife]
Dredger: [rising unsteadily to his feet] Un moment, s'il vous plaît … ["One moment, please …"]
[Holmes uses the taser to send an electric shock through a pipe to a knife that Dredger is holding, causing him to go flying backwards against the thug that is holding Watson at knifepoint, crushing the thug; Holmes then blows out a bit of smoke from the taser]
John Watson: [in surprise] Holmes, what is that?
Sherlock Holmes: Je ne sais pas. ["I don't know."]
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[Holmes and Watson arrive at the graveyard.]
Lestrade: We're just in the process of bringing up the casket.
Holmes: [looks at the constables, all of whom seem rooted to the ground] Indeed? What stage of the process? Contemplative?
Lestrade: We're just in the process of bringing up the casket.
Holmes: [looks at the constables, all of whom seem rooted to the ground] Indeed? What stage of the process? Contemplative?
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[Holmes confronts Blackwood with his actions on the uncompleted Tower Bridge, Blackwood's foot tied to a yoke, threatening to pull him off. Blackwood desperately hangs on to a plank on the scaffolding]
Sherlock Holmes: There was never any magic. Only conjuring tricks. The simplest involved paying people off, like the prison guard who pretended to be possessed outside your cell. Your reputation and the immense fear did the rest. Others required more elaborate preparations, like the sandstone slab that covered your tomb. You had it broken before your burial, then put back together using a mild adhesive. An ancient Egyptian recipe, I believe. A mixture of egg and honey, designed to be washed away by the rain. [The plank Blackwood is holding on to breaks, pulling him further to the edge of the scaffolding. He manages to grab another plank, stopping his fall]
Lord Blackwood: Holmes!
Sherlock Holmes: Arranging for your own father to drown in his own bathtub required ... more modern science. Very clever of Reordan to find a paralytic that was activated by the combination of copper and water and was, therefore, undetectable once the bathwater was drained. It might've been quite a challenge for me, had he not also tested it on some unfortunate amphibians. [Another plank breaks, causing Blackwood to fall a few more feet before he grabs another plank] The death of Standish was a real mystery until you used the same compound to blow up the wharf: an odorless, tasteless, flammable liquid, yet it burned with an unusual pinkish hue. did Standish mistake it for rain as he entered the temple? All it took was a spark, a simple rigged bullet in his gun. Ingenius. Like all great performances, you saved your piece de resistance for the end: a chemical weapon distilled from cyanide and refined in the bellies of swine. Had it worked, your followers in Parliament would've watched, unharmed, as their colleagues were dying around them. They didn't know that you'd given them the antidote. Instead, they would've believed it was magic and that you'd harnassed the ultimate power, and that the world would've fallen to you, fear being the most powerful weapon of all. You better hope that it's nothing more than superstition as you performed all the rituals perfectly. The devil's due a soul, I'd say.
Lord Blackwood: For God's sake, Holmes, cut me loose! [The plank breaks just as Holmes grabs an ax and throws it at the rope, severing Blackwood from the yoke as it falls to the Thames below.]
Sherlock Holmes: There was never any magic. Only conjuring tricks. The simplest involved paying people off, like the prison guard who pretended to be possessed outside your cell. Your reputation and the immense fear did the rest. Others required more elaborate preparations, like the sandstone slab that covered your tomb. You had it broken before your burial, then put back together using a mild adhesive. An ancient Egyptian recipe, I believe. A mixture of egg and honey, designed to be washed away by the rain. [The plank Blackwood is holding on to breaks, pulling him further to the edge of the scaffolding. He manages to grab another plank, stopping his fall]
Lord Blackwood: Holmes!
Sherlock Holmes: Arranging for your own father to drown in his own bathtub required ... more modern science. Very clever of Reordan to find a paralytic that was activated by the combination of copper and water and was, therefore, undetectable once the bathwater was drained. It might've been quite a challenge for me, had he not also tested it on some unfortunate amphibians. [Another plank breaks, causing Blackwood to fall a few more feet before he grabs another plank] The death of Standish was a real mystery until you used the same compound to blow up the wharf: an odorless, tasteless, flammable liquid, yet it burned with an unusual pinkish hue. did Standish mistake it for rain as he entered the temple? All it took was a spark, a simple rigged bullet in his gun. Ingenius. Like all great performances, you saved your piece de resistance for the end: a chemical weapon distilled from cyanide and refined in the bellies of swine. Had it worked, your followers in Parliament would've watched, unharmed, as their colleagues were dying around them. They didn't know that you'd given them the antidote. Instead, they would've believed it was magic and that you'd harnassed the ultimate power, and that the world would've fallen to you, fear being the most powerful weapon of all. You better hope that it's nothing more than superstition as you performed all the rituals perfectly. The devil's due a soul, I'd say.
Lord Blackwood: For God's sake, Holmes, cut me loose! [The plank breaks just as Holmes grabs an ax and throws it at the rope, severing Blackwood from the yoke as it falls to the Thames below.]
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[Holmes confronts Irene about her employer]
Irene Adler: Why are you always so suspicious?
Sherlock Holmes: Should I answer chronologically or alphabetically?
Irene Adler: Why are you always so suspicious?
Sherlock Holmes: Should I answer chronologically or alphabetically?
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[Holmes has just spoken with Blackwood, who has warned him about three impending deaths that he cannot prevent]
Inspector Lestrade: What did he want?
Sherlock Holmes: Not sure … [sees a priest] But I don't think you're needed, Father. Not for this one.
Inspector Lestrade: What did he want?
Sherlock Holmes: Not sure … [sees a priest] But I don't think you're needed, Father. Not for this one.
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[Holmes is spying on Blackwood's sacrifice. One of Blackwood's henchmen tries to sneak up on him, but Watson grabs him and chokes him in a hold]
Dr. John Watson: I like the hat.
Sherlock Holmes: Thanks, I just picked it up.
Dr. John Watson: You remember your revolver?
Sherlock Holmes: Oh, knew I forgot something. Thought I left the stove on.
Dr. John Watson: You did.
Sherlock Holmes: I think that's quite enough. You are a doctor, after all. [Watson feels the henchman's pulse and lets him fall to the floor. Holmes & Watson shake hands]
Sherlock Holmes: Always nice to see you, Watson. Where's the Inspector?
Dr. John Watson: He's getting his troops lined up.
Sherlock Holmes: That could be all day. [They run down the stairs and attack the other henchmen who are standing guard]
Dr. John Watson: I like the hat.
Sherlock Holmes: Thanks, I just picked it up.
Dr. John Watson: You remember your revolver?
Sherlock Holmes: Oh, knew I forgot something. Thought I left the stove on.
Dr. John Watson: You did.
Sherlock Holmes: I think that's quite enough. You are a doctor, after all. [Watson feels the henchman's pulse and lets him fall to the floor. Holmes & Watson shake hands]
Sherlock Holmes: Always nice to see you, Watson. Where's the Inspector?
Dr. John Watson: He's getting his troops lined up.
Sherlock Holmes: That could be all day. [They run down the stairs and attack the other henchmen who are standing guard]
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[Holmes is standing in front of a glass containing a group of flies, strumming chords on his violin as he observes them]
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, what started merely as an experiment has led me to the brink of a remarkable discovery.
Dr. John Watson: You do realize that what you're drinking is meant for eye surgery?
Sherlock Holmes: If I play a chromatic scale, there's no measurable response. Now, and this is remarkable, I switch to atonal clusters …
[The flies start flying in neat circles]
Sherlock Holmes: Voilà ! They fly in synchronized, counterclockwise, concentric circles, as though a regimented flock. Watson, this is extraordinary. I, using musical theory, have created order … out of chaos.
Dr. John Watson: How did you lure them in?
Sherlock Holmes: Excellent question. Individually. I've been at it for six hours.
Dr. John Watson: And what happens if I do this?
[He takes the lid off the glass and taps the glass with his cane, letting all the insects fly out]
Sherlock Holmes: … Right.
Dr. John Watson: Get yourself cleaned up. You are Blackwood's last request.
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, what started merely as an experiment has led me to the brink of a remarkable discovery.
Dr. John Watson: You do realize that what you're drinking is meant for eye surgery?
Sherlock Holmes: If I play a chromatic scale, there's no measurable response. Now, and this is remarkable, I switch to atonal clusters …
[The flies start flying in neat circles]
Sherlock Holmes: Voilà ! They fly in synchronized, counterclockwise, concentric circles, as though a regimented flock. Watson, this is extraordinary. I, using musical theory, have created order … out of chaos.
Dr. John Watson: How did you lure them in?
Sherlock Holmes: Excellent question. Individually. I've been at it for six hours.
Dr. John Watson: And what happens if I do this?
[He takes the lid off the glass and taps the glass with his cane, letting all the insects fly out]
Sherlock Holmes: … Right.
Dr. John Watson: Get yourself cleaned up. You are Blackwood's last request.
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[Holmes is summoned to the scene of Sir Thomas's death]
Sherlock Holmes: Why did you drain the bathwater?
Constable Clarkie: Out of common decency, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Crime is common, logic is rare. The decent thing is to catch the killer, not provide comfort for the corpse.
Sherlock Holmes: Why did you drain the bathwater?
Constable Clarkie: Out of common decency, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Crime is common, logic is rare. The decent thing is to catch the killer, not provide comfort for the corpse.
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[Holmes is visiting Blackwood in his cell and has noticed various occult carvings in the walls; Blackwood himself is reading from the Book of Revelation]
Sherlock Holmes: I love what you've done with the place.
Lord Blackwood: So glad you could accept my invitation.
Sherlock Holmes: I just have a small point of concern.
Lord Blackwood: How can I help?
Sherlock Holmes: I'd already followed the murders with some interest, and while my heart went out primarily to the families of the victims, I couldn't help but notice a criminal mastery in the stroke of your brush.
Lord Blackwood: You're too kind.
Sherlock Holmes: However, by comparison, your work in the crypt was more akin to a finger painting.
Sherlock Holmes: I love what you've done with the place.
Lord Blackwood: So glad you could accept my invitation.
Sherlock Holmes: I just have a small point of concern.
Lord Blackwood: How can I help?
Sherlock Holmes: I'd already followed the murders with some interest, and while my heart went out primarily to the families of the victims, I couldn't help but notice a criminal mastery in the stroke of your brush.
Lord Blackwood: You're too kind.
Sherlock Holmes: However, by comparison, your work in the crypt was more akin to a finger painting.
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[In a bare-knuckle boxing match, Holmes sees Irene and tries to forfeit and leave]
Sherlock Holmes: That's it, big man. You've won, congratulations.
McMurdo: Oi, we ain't done yet!
[McMurdo spits at the back of Holmes's head. Holmes stops]
Sherlock Holmes: [voice-over] This mustn't register on an emotional level … [in slow motion] First, distract target … [Holmes flicks a handkerchief in front of his opponent's face] Then block his blind jab, counter with cross to left cheek. Discombobulate. [Holmes claps his hands over his opponent's ears] Dazed, will attempt wild haymaker. Employ elbow block, and body shot. [blocks with his elbow and delivers a body blow] Block feral left, weaken right jaw, now fracture. [a cross to the jaw fractures the bone] Break cracked ribs, traumatize solar plexus, dislocate jaw entirely. [two more body blows, and a right hook to the jaw hinge] Heel kick to diaphragm … [a heel kick to the opponent's chest sends him crashing out of the ring] In summary: ears ringing, jaw fractured, three ribs cracked, four broken, diaphragm hemorrhaging. Physical recovery: six weeks. Full psychological recovery: six months. Capacity to spit at back of head: neutralized. [Back in real time, Holmes picks up the handkerchief, as though wiping the back of his neck, then proceeds to do all of the foregoing in approximately six seconds, and kicks McMurdo out of the ring, before calmly walking away]
Onlooker: Where did that come from?! [Those who place their bets realize that they've lost their money]
Sherlock Holmes: That's it, big man. You've won, congratulations.
McMurdo: Oi, we ain't done yet!
[McMurdo spits at the back of Holmes's head. Holmes stops]
Sherlock Holmes: [voice-over] This mustn't register on an emotional level … [in slow motion] First, distract target … [Holmes flicks a handkerchief in front of his opponent's face] Then block his blind jab, counter with cross to left cheek. Discombobulate. [Holmes claps his hands over his opponent's ears] Dazed, will attempt wild haymaker. Employ elbow block, and body shot. [blocks with his elbow and delivers a body blow] Block feral left, weaken right jaw, now fracture. [a cross to the jaw fractures the bone] Break cracked ribs, traumatize solar plexus, dislocate jaw entirely. [two more body blows, and a right hook to the jaw hinge] Heel kick to diaphragm … [a heel kick to the opponent's chest sends him crashing out of the ring] In summary: ears ringing, jaw fractured, three ribs cracked, four broken, diaphragm hemorrhaging. Physical recovery: six weeks. Full psychological recovery: six months. Capacity to spit at back of head: neutralized. [Back in real time, Holmes picks up the handkerchief, as though wiping the back of his neck, then proceeds to do all of the foregoing in approximately six seconds, and kicks McMurdo out of the ring, before calmly walking away]
Onlooker: Where did that come from?! [Those who place their bets realize that they've lost their money]
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[Irene fires two shots at Dredger, before her pistol clicks empty. Dredger examines a bullet hole in his bowler hat.]
Dredger: Tu m'a manqué? ["Did you miss me?"]
Holmes: I rather wish you hadn't done that, Irene.
Dredger: Tu m'a manqué? ["Did you miss me?"]
Holmes: I rather wish you hadn't done that, Irene.
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[Irene makes her way to the carriage]
Irene Adler: He'll do it.
Irene's Employer: Well done, Miss Adler. That's precisely why I hired you.
Irene Adler: I wager he will have our man in the next 24 hours.
Irene's Employer: He'd better. Reordan is the key to what Blackwood was doing. He's essential to my plan.
[Further conversation is interrupted when some idiotic street bum (later revealed to be Holmes in disguise) suddenly rams into the side of the carriage]
Sherlock Holmes (dressed as street bum): [slurring, as if drunk] A little rifle range could go a long way, sir. Rubbin' the calluses off these German bands – [Irene's employer brandishes a wrist-mounted gun. The bum backs off] God save the Queen. God save the Queen. [He tips his hat and walks away]
Irene Adler: He'll do it.
Irene's Employer: Well done, Miss Adler. That's precisely why I hired you.
Irene Adler: I wager he will have our man in the next 24 hours.
Irene's Employer: He'd better. Reordan is the key to what Blackwood was doing. He's essential to my plan.
[Further conversation is interrupted when some idiotic street bum (later revealed to be Holmes in disguise) suddenly rams into the side of the carriage]
Sherlock Holmes (dressed as street bum): [slurring, as if drunk] A little rifle range could go a long way, sir. Rubbin' the calluses off these German bands – [Irene's employer brandishes a wrist-mounted gun. The bum backs off] God save the Queen. God save the Queen. [He tips his hat and walks away]
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[Lestrade brings Holmes, handcuffed, before the Home Secretary, Lord Coward]
Inspector Lestrade: Excuse me, my lord. I know it's unorthodox, but Mr. Holmes here has been making some serious accusations about you … [lifts his lapel, showing a membership pin from the Temple of the Four Orders] … and the Order, sir.
Lord Coward: I see.
Sherlock Holmes: Well, at least that solves the great mystery of how you became Inspector.
Inspector Lestrade: [turns and punches Holmes in the stomach] Begging your pardon, my lord, but I've been wanting to do that for a long time.
Inspector Lestrade: Excuse me, my lord. I know it's unorthodox, but Mr. Holmes here has been making some serious accusations about you … [lifts his lapel, showing a membership pin from the Temple of the Four Orders] … and the Order, sir.
Lord Coward: I see.
Sherlock Holmes: Well, at least that solves the great mystery of how you became Inspector.
Inspector Lestrade: [turns and punches Holmes in the stomach] Begging your pardon, my lord, but I've been wanting to do that for a long time.