Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Would it be better if I just waited...? - No.
She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service.
- I'll be back in two minutes, mate. - What?
Er, Baker Street.
This is my brother, Mycroft. Putting on weight again?
We ought to be able to afford it.
You're looking for a flatshare. You wouldn't buy this - it's a gift.
What about you? Just staying in town till you get yourself sorted?
- Get a cab! - I never get cabs!
I must have blacked out.
- They consult me. - The police don't consult amateurs.
Who'd be a fan of Sherlock Holmes?
Your mouth's too small now.
What happened at Lauriston Gardens?
I am clean!
- Who are you? What do you do? - What do you think?
would panic.
Haven't the faintest. Hungry?
- Come on, come on. Quickly! - Sherlock, dear. This taxi driver...
Mmm, and since yesterday, you've moved in with him
Three exactly the same.
or make him worse than ever.
But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned.
It was a long shot anyway.
You think he's stupid enough to go there?
but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now.
Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?
Four serial suicides and now a note.
On my phone.
It's up to you. You're the one who's going to die here.
That wasn't just me. Why aren't we back at the restaurant?
What do you mean, there's no ruddy car?
no-one's ever gone for that option.
He's not just going to ring the doorbell. He'd need to be mad.
You did get shot, though.
Donovan! - Coming.
She's got an umbrella in her pocket, but it's dry and unused.
Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious -
for one night from the size of her suitcase.
Grade 3 active.
You haven't written a word, have you?
Marriage in trouble, then - six months on he's given it away.
Says the man at the door.
they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer...
or the CIA on a freelance basis.
Are you clever enough...
That... was amazing.
How?
and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan.
- Sure. - You've told him already, haven't you?
Well, this could be very nice.
Though that's never really your motivation, is it?
I'm surprised more of us don't branch out.
That's how you get your kicks, isn't it?
Welcome to London.
On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text.
- What are you doing? - Nicotine patch.
A man's alibi depends on it. Text me.
Come on, where is her case?
- So I went straight ahead and moved in. - Soon as we get this rubbish cleaned up.
In exchange for what?
I've played four times. I'm alive.
But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned.
...and then you're going to kill yourself.
Did he follow you home?
well...
- OK. Good night. - Good night, Dr. Watson.
- An enemy? - In his mind, certainly.
What's that?
You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand.
- You blacked out? - What? No... No!
He has killed four people.
Not distracting me at all.
Not much.
You take the pill from the good bottle, you live.
Who do we trust, even if we don't know them?
Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?
Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones.
One day just showing up won't be enough.
Cleared off before we got here.