Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

What have you got for us?
What the hell are they implying?
Sod this.
- What, can I help? - No, on my own.
(TEXT ALERT CHIMES)
I should get myself a live-in one.
- PGPR. - What's that?
If this was Moriarty, he would be dead already.
- Go to your right. - Huh?
Sooner or later, you're going to need someone on your side.
Would you happen to know if he's around at all?
I'm not sure you'll want to.
- Pleased to meet you. - No.
The intruder must have been hidden inside someplace.
Well, you know. You've got John
(MUFFLED SHOUTS)
Eighteen months since our last appointment.
Would you like to know who ate the wafer?
You've been typing in a hurry, probably. Pressure on, facing a deadline.
What opinion have I formed of him? Did they not teach you this?
You're wearing an expensive skirt that has been re-hemmed twice.
No, I won't give you an interview. No, I don't want the money.
- Not be myself. - Yeah.
Precise details. In the last week, what's been cleaned?
Your honour, we're not calling any witnesses.
And the dying man jumped out of his bed,
MRS HUDSON: (KNOCKING) Yoo hoo!
Lea las instrucciones de éste medicamento y consulte al farmacéutico
The silhouette of everyone who came to the door.
who reads all those spy books. What would he do?
- What? - All units to two...
(MRS HUDSON SOBBING)
Just get it over with.
- Wow! I'm liking you. - You mean I'd make a great feature.
Neat.
You don't really think a couple of lines of computer code
Fairy tales.
Go on.
Thinking.
What about Mycroft? He could help us.
Unless she had seen him before.
All the chemical traces on his shoe have been preserved.
Matches.
Well, our boys couldn't have done it.
- (SINGING) ...if I've got you. - Oh.
do what?
Tell me!
You think this is Moriarty?
We both know what's coming, John.
- You're this far from famous. - Oh, it'll pass.
And I owe you so much.
- I never intend... I never dreamt... - This, see, this...
Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville.
Back on the streets.
Very good. Because?
How do you know that you can trust him, eh?
He had his left arm cradled about her neck.
It's not the police. It's one of our new neighbours from Baker Street.
It's not enough to kill them on its own.
Funny name. German. Like the fairy tales.
Are you okay? Don't just say you are,
The sole of the shoe is like a passport.
Of course it's Moriarty.
You're not.
No such thing as a private bank account now.
But that wasn't the end of Sir Boast-A -Lot's problem.
You've got to admit, that's sexier.
The defence rests.
This was alight moments ago. They're still here!
(SING-SONG) But did you listen?
- What kind of hat is it, anyway? - Bachelor?
Yeah, show me something.
Need something more specific, chalk, chalky clay.
No.
that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me
and half of the Government front bench all sharing one tea trolley?
Told all my clients.
JUDGE: Mr. Holmes, we're fine without your help.
I am you.
- (SCREAMING) - No, no,