“Sherlock” The Hounds of Baskerville – 2012

Posted by on January 10, 2012

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Hello.
Are you all right?
What is it, dear? Are you lost?
Sync and corrected by font color=”#ffff00″APOLLO/font
Well, that was tedious.
You went on the tube like that?
None of the cabs would take me.
Nothing?
Military coup in Uganda.
Another photo of you
with the…
Well, um, Cabinet reshuffle?
Nothing of importance?
John, I need some. Get me some.
No. Get me some.
No. Cold turkey we agreed,
no matter what.
Anyway, you’ve paid
everyone off, remember?
No-one within a two-mile radius
will sell you any.
Stupid idea. Whose idea was that?
Mrs Hudson!
Look, Sherlock, you’re doing
really well, don’t give up now!
Tell me where they are!
Please, tell me.
Please.
Can’t help, sorry. I’ll let you know
next week’s lottery numbers.
It was worth a try.
My secret supply, what have you done
with my secret supply?
Cigarettes, what have you done
with them?
You never let me touch your things!
Chance would be a fine thing.
I thought you weren’t
my housekeeper. I’m not.
How about a nice cuppa and perhaps
you could put away your harpoon?
I need something stronger than tea.
Seven percent stronger.
You’ve been to see Mr Chatterjee
again. Pardon?
Sandwich shop. That’s a new dress,
but there’s flour on the sleeve.
You wouldn’t dress
like that for baking.
Sherlock…
Thumbnail. Tiny traces of foil.
Been at the scratch cards again.
We all know where that leads.
Kasbah Nights. Racy for a
Monday morning, wouldn’t you agree?
I wrote a blog on the identification
of perfumes. You should look it up!
Please! Don’t pin your hopes
on that cruise with Mr
Chatterjee, he’s got a wife
nobody knows about. Sherlock!
Well, nobody except me.
I don’t know what
you’re talking about,
I really don’t!
What the bloody hell was all
that about? You don’t understand.
Go after her and apologise.
Apologise?
John, I envy you so much.
You envy me?
Your mind, it’s so placid,
straight-forward, barely used.
Mine’s like an engine,
racing out of control.
A rocket, tearing
itself to pieces,
trapped on the launch pad.
I need a case!
You’ve just solved one, by harpooning
a dead pig, apparently!
That was this morning.
When’s the next one?
Nothing on the website?
“Dear Mr Sherlock Holmes.
I can’t find Bluebell anywhere.
“Please, please,
please can you help?”
Bluebell? A rabbit, John!
But there’s more.
Before Bluebell disappeared,
it turned luminous.
“Like a fairy,” according
to little Kirsty.
Then the next morning,
Bluebell was gone.
Hutch still locked,
no sign of a forced entry.
What am I saying, this is brilliant!
Phone Lestrade.
Tell him there’s an escaped rabbit.
Are you serious? It’s this or Cluedo.
We are never playing that again.
Why not? It’s not possible
for the victim to have done it.
It was the only possible solution.
It’s not in the rules.
Well, then, the rules are wrong!
A single ring.
Maximum pressure,
just under the half second.
Client!
Dartmoor, it’s always been
a place of myth and legend,
but is there something else
lurking out here?
Something very real.
Dartmoor is also home to one the
government’s most secret of operations,
the chemical and biological weapons
research centre,
which is said to be even more
sensitive than Porton Down.
Since the end of
the Second World War,
there have been persistent stories
about the Baskerville experiments.
Genetic mutations,
animals grown for the battlefield.
There are many who
believe that within this
compound, in the heart of
this ancient wildness,
there are horrors beyond imagining.
But the real question is,
are all of them still inside?’
I was just a kid.
It was on the moor.
It was dark, but I know what I saw.
I know what killed my father.
What did you see?
I was just about to say.
Yes, in a TV interview.
I prefer to do my own editing.
Yes. Sorry, yes, of course.
Excuse me.
In your own time.
But quite quickly.
Do you know Dartmoor, Mr Holmes? No.
It’s an amazing place,
it’s like nowhere else,
it’s sort of bleak, but beautiful.
Not interested. Moving on.
We used to go for walks,
after my mum died, my dad and me.
Every evening,
we’d go out onto the moor.
Good. Skipping to the
night that your dad was
violently killed, where
did that happen?
There’s a place,
it’s a sort of local landmark,
called Dewer’s Hollow.
That’s an ancient name
for the devil.
Did you see the devil that night?
It was huge.
Coal-black fur with red eyes.
It got him.
Tore at him, tore him apart.
I can’t remember anything else.
They found me the next morning,
just wandering on the moor.
My dad’s body was never found.
Red eyes, coal-black fur,
enormous…
A dog? Wolf?
Or a genetic experiment.
Are you laughing at me, Mr Holmes?
Why, are you joking?
My dad was always going on about the
things they were doing at Baskerville.
About the type of monsters
they were breeding there.
People used to laugh at him.
At least the TV people
took me seriously.
And I assume did wonders
for Devon tourism. Yeah…
Henry, whatever did happen
to your father, it was 20 years ago.
Why come to us now?
Not sure you can help me, Mr Holmes,
since you find it all so funny!
Because of what happened last night.
Why, what happened last night?
How… How do you know?
I didn’t know, I noticed.
You came up from Devon
on the first train this morning.
You had a disappointing
breakfast and a black coffee.
The girl across the
aisle fancied you.
Though initially keen,
you’ve changed your mind.
You are anxious to have
your first cigarette of the day.
Sit down, Mr Knight, and do
please smoke. I’d be delighted.
How on Earth did you notice
all that? It’s not important…
Punched out holes where your
ticket’s been checked. Not now.
I’ve been cooped-up for ages!
You’re showing off.
I am a show-off,
that’s what we do.
Train napkin you used to mop up
the spilled coffee.
Strength of the stain shows
that you didn’t take milk.
There are traces of ketchup on it
and on your lips and sleeve.
Cooked breakfast, or the nearest
thing those trains manage. Sandwich.
How did you know
it was disappointing?
Is there any other type of breakfast
on a train? The girl.
Female handwriting’s distinctive,
wrote her number on the napkin.
I can tell from the angle she wrote
at that she was sat across from you.
After she got off, I
imagine you used the
napkin to mop up
your spilled coffee,
accidentally smudging the numbers.
You’ve been over the
last four digits in
another pen, so you wanted
to keep the number.
You used the napkin to blow your
nose, so you’re not that into her.
Then there’s the nicotine stains on
your shaking fingers. I know the signs.
No chance to smoke
when on the train, no
time to roll one before
you got a cab here.
It’s just after 9.15,
you’re desperate.
The first train from Exeter
to London leaves at 5.46am.
You got the first one,
so something important
must have happened last night.
Am I wrong?
You’re right.
You’re completely, exactly right.
Bloody hell, I heard you were quick.
It’s my job. Now shut up and smoke.
Henry, your parents both died
and you were what, seven years old?
I know, that…
That must be quite a trauma.
Now, have you ever thought that maybe
you invented this story, this…
to account for it?
That’s what Dr Mortimer says.
Who? His therapist. My therapist.
Obviously.
Louise Mortimer.
She’s the reason
I came back to Dartmoor.
She thinks I have to face my demons.
What happened when you went back
to Dewer’s Hollow last night?
You went there on the
advice of your therapist
and now you’re
consulting a detective.
What did you see that
changed everything?
It’s a strange
place, the Hollow.
It makes you feel
so cold inside, so afraid.
Yes, if I wanted poetry,
I’d read John’s emails to
his girlfriends, much funnier.
What did you see?
Footprints.
On the exact spot
where I saw my father torn apart.
Man’s or a woman’s?
Neither. They were… Is that it?
Nothing else? Footprints, is that all?
Yes. But they were…
Dr Mortimer wins. It’s a childhood
trauma masked by an invented memory.
Boring. Goodbye, Mr Knight,
thank you for smoking.
What about the footprints?
They’re probably paw prints, could
be anything, therefore nothing.
Off to Devon with you
and have a cream tea on me.
Mr Holmes, they were
the footprints of a gigantic hound.
Say that again.
I found footprints, they were big…
No, no, no, your exact words.
Repeat your exact words from a moment
ago, exactly as you said them.
Mr Holmes,
they were
the footprints of a gigantic hound.
I’ll take the case. Sorry, what?
Thank you for bringing
this to my attention,
it’s very promising.
Sorry, what?
A minute ago, footprints were boring,
now they’re very promising?
It’s got nothing to do
with footprints, you
weren’t listening.
Baskerville, heard of it?
Vaguely. It’s very hush-hush.
Sounds like a good place to start.
You’ll come down?
I can’t leave London
at the moment, far too busy.
But don’t worry,
I’m putting my best man onto it.
I can always rely on John
to send me the relevant
data, as he never
understands a word of it.
What are you talking about?
You don’t have a case!
You were complaining…
I’ve got Bluebell!
The case of the vanishing
glow-in-the-dark rabbit.
NATO’s in uproar.
You’re not coming, then?
I don’t need those any more,
I’m going to Dartmoor.
You go on ahead, Henry, we’ll follow
later. Sorry, so you are coming?
20-year-old disappearance,
a monstrous hound?
I wouldn’t miss this for the world!
..cruise together, you had
no intention of taking me on a boat!
Looks like Mrs Hudson
finally got to the wife in Doncaster.
Wait until she finds out
about the one in Islamabad.
Paddington Station, please.
There’s Baskerville.
That’s Grimpen Village.
So that must be…
Yes, Dewer’s Hollow.
What’s that?
A mine field?
Technically,
Baskerville’s an army base,
so I guess they’ve always been keen
to keep people out.
Clearly.
Right, three tours a day.
Tell your friends, tell anyone.
Don’t be strangers. And remember,
stay away from the moor at night,
if you value your lives!
Take care.
It’s cold.
That part doesn’t change.
What does?
There’s something else.
It’s a word.
Liberty.
Liberty?
And there’s another word.
I. N.
Liberty In.
What do you think it means?
Sorry we couldn’t do
a double room for you boys.
That’s fine. We’re not…
There you go.
Ta. I’ll just get your change.
There you go.
I couldn’t help noticing, on the map
of the moor, a skull and crossbones?
That.
Pirates? No. The Great Grimpen
Minefield, they call it. Right.
It’s not what you think.
It’s the Baskerville testing site.
It’s been going for 80-odd years.
I’m not sure anyone really knows
what’s there any more.
Explosives? Not just explosives.
Break into that place
and if you’re lucky,
you just get blown
up, so they say.
In case you’re planning
a wee stroll. Ta. I’ll remember.
Aye. No, it buggers up tourism a bit,
so thank God for the demon hound.
Did you see that show? The
documentary? Quite recently, yeah.
God bless Henry Knight
and his monster from hell.
Ever seen it? The hound?
Me? No, no.
Fletcher has.
He runs the walks, the monster walks for
the tourists, you know. He’s seen it.
That’s handy for trade.
I’m just saying we’ve been
rushed off our feet, Billy.
Yeah, lots of monster hunters.
It don’t take much these days,
one mention on Twitter and whoomph!
We’re out of WKD.
Right. What with the monster
and the ruddy prison,
I don’t know how we sleep nights.
Do you, Gary? Like a baby.
That’s not true. He’s a snorer.
Hey, ssh.
Is yours a snorer? Got any crisps?
Yeah. No. All right? Right,
take care. Bye. Take care, bye.
Mind if I join you?
It’s not true, is it, you haven’t
actually seen this hound thing?
Are you from the papers? No,
nothing like that, just curious.
Have you seen it? Maybe.
Got any proof?
Why would I tell you if I did?
Excuse me.
I called Henry. Bet’s off John,
sorry. What? Bet?
My plan needs darkness.
We’ve got another
half an hour of light.
Wait, wait, what bet?
I bet John here 50 quid that you
couldn’t prove you’d seen the hound.
Yeah, the guys in the pub
said you could.
Well, you’re going to lose
your money, mate. Yeah?
Yeah. I seen it.
Only about a month ago.
Up at the Hollow.
It was foggy, mind,
couldn’t make much out.
I see. No witnesses, I suppose.
No, but… Never are.
No, wait. There.
Is that it? It’s not exactly proof,
is it? Sorry, John, I win.
Wait, wait, that’s not all. People
don’t like going up there, you know.
To the Hollow.
Gives them a bad sort of feeling.
Is it haunted?
Is that supposed to convince me?
Nah, don’t be stupid!
Nothing like that.
But I reckon
there is something out there.
Something from Baskerville, escaped.
A clone? A super-dog? Maybe.
God knows what they’ve
been spraying on us
all these years, or
putting in the water.
I wouldn’t trust them
as far as I could spit.
Is that the best you’ve got?
I had a mate once
who worked for the MOD.
One weekend we were meant to go
fishing, but he never showed up.
Well, not till late.
When he did,
he was white as a sheet.
I can see him now.
“I’ve seen things today,
Fletcher,” he said,
“that I never want to see again.
“Terrible things.”
He’d been sent to some secret
army place. Porton Down, maybe.
Maybe Baskerville,
or somewhere else.
In the labs there,
the really secret labs,
he said he’d seen terrible things.
Rats as big as dogs, he said.
And dogs, dogs the size of horses.
We did say 50.
Pass, please.
Thank you.
You’ve got ID for Baskerville?!
It’s not specific to this place.
It’s my brother’s.
Access all areas. I, um, ahem,
acquired it ages ago. Just in case.
Brilliant. What’s the matter?
We’ll get caught. We won’t!
Well, not yet.
Caught in five minutes.
“Hi, we thought we’d have a wander
around your top secret weapons base.”
“Really? Great. Come in, kettle’s
boiled.” That’s if we don’t get shot.
Clear. Thanks very much. Thank you.
Straight through, sir.
Mycroft’s name literally opens doors.
I’ve told you, he practically is
the British Government.
I reckon we’ve got about 20 minutes
before they realise something’s wrong.
What is it? Are we in trouble?
Are we in trouble, sir.
Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.
You were expecting us?
Your ID showed up straight away,
Mr Holmes. Corporal Lyons, security.
Is there something wrong, sir?
I hope not,
Corporal, I hope not.
We don’t get inspected here.
Ever heard of a spot check?
Captain John Watson,
Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Sir.
Major Barrymore won’t be pleased,
sir. He’ll want to see you both.
I’m afraid we won’t have time.
We need the full tour.
Right away. Carry on.
That’s an order, Corporal. Yes, sir.
Nice touch.
Haven’t pulled rank in ages.
Enjoy it? Yeah.
How many animals do you keep down
here? Lots, sir.
Any ever escape? They’d have to know
how to use that lift, sir.
We’re not breeding them that clever.
Unless they have help.
And you are? It’s all right,
Dr Frankland,
I’m just showing these gentlemen
around. New faces, how nice.
Careful you don’t get stuck here,
though, I only came to fix a tap.
How far down does that lift go?
Quite a way, sir.
And what’s down there?
Well, we have to keep
the bins somewhere, sir.
This way please, gentlemen.
So what exactly is it that you do
here?
I thought you’d know, sir,
this being an inspection.
Well, I’m not an expert, am I?
Everything from stem cell research to
trying to cure the common cold, sir.
But mostly weaponry?
Of one sort or another, yes.
Biological, chemical? One war ends,
another begins, sir.
New enemies to fight.
We have to be prepared.
OK, Michael,
let’s try Harlow 3 next time.
Dr Stapleton… Stapleton?
Yes? Who’s this?
Priority ultra, ma’am, orders from
on high. An inspection. Really?
We are to be accorded every
courtesy, Dr Stapleton.
What’s your role at Baskerville?
Accorded every courtesy,
isn’t that the idea?
I’m not free to say.
Official secrets.
You most certainly are free,
and I suggest you remain that way.
I have a lot of fingers
in a lot of pies.
I like to mix things up.
Genes, mostly.
Now and again, actual fingers.
Stapleton! I knew I knew your name.
I doubt it.
People say there’s no such thing
as coincidence.
Dull lives they must lead.
Have you been talking
to my daughter?
Why did Bluebell have
to die, Dr Stapleton?
The rabbit?
Disappeared from inside a locked
hutch, which was always suggestive.
The rabbit?
Clearly an inside job.
You reckon?
Why? Because it glowed in the dark.
I have absolutely no idea what
you’re talking about. Who are you?
We’ve seen enough for now.
Thank you so much. That’s it?
That’s it. It’s this way, isn’t it?
Just a minute!
Did we just break into a military
base to investigate a rabbit?
Ha! 23 minutes.
Mycroft’s getting slow.
Hello, again.
Major…
This is bloody outrageous!
Why wasn’t I told?!
Major Barrymore, is it?
Yes, well, good.
Very good, we’re very impressed.
Aren’t we, Mr Holmes?
Hugely. The point of
Baskerville was to eliminate
bureaucratic nonsense!
Sorry, Major. Inspections!
Can’t remain unmonitored
for ever, goodness
knows what you’d get up to.
Keep walking. Sir!
ID unauthorised, sir. What?
I’ve just had the call.
Is that right? Who are you?
Look, there’s obviously been
some kind of mistake.
Clearly not, Mycroft Holmes.
Computer error.
It’ll all have to go in the report.
What the hell’s going on?
It’s all right, Major,
I know who these gentlemen are.
You do? Yeah,
I’m getting a little slow on faces,
but Mr Holmes here isn’t someone
I expected to show up in this place.
Well… Good to see you again,
Mycroft.
I had the honour of
meeting Mr Holmes at
the WHO conference in…
Brussels, was it?
Vienna. Vienna, that’s it.
This is Mr Mycroft Holmes, Major.
There’s obviously been a mistake.
On your head be it, Dr Frankland.
I’ll show them out, Corporal.
Very well, sir.
Thank you.
This is about Henry Knight,
isn’t it? I thought so.
I knew he wanted help,
but I didn’t realise
he was going to contact
Sherlock Holmes!
Don’t worry, I know
who you really are.
I’m never off your website.
I thought you’d be wearing the hat.
That wasn’t my hat.
I hardly recognise him
without the hat. It wasn’t my hat.
I love the blog, too, Dr Watson.
Cheers.
The pink thing. And that one about
the aluminium crutch. Yes.
You know Henry Knight?
Well, I knew his dad better.
He had all sorts of mad theories
about this place.
Still, he was a good friend.
Listen, I can’t really talk now.
Here’s my cell number.
If I can help with Henry,
give me a call.
I never did ask, Dr Frankland,
what exactly is it that you do here?
Mr Holmes,
I would love to tell you,
but then, of course,
I’d have to kill you.
That would be tremendously ambitious
of you. Tell me about Dr Stapleton.
I never speak ill of a colleague.
But you’d speak well of one,
which you’re clearly omitting to do.
I do seem to be, don’t I?
I’ll be in touch. Any time.
So? So?
What was all that about the rabbit?
Please,
can we not do this, this time?
Do what? You being all mysterious
with your… cheekbones,
and turning your coat collar up
so you look cool.
I don’t do that. Yeah, you do.
So, the email from Kirsty.
The missing luminous rabbit.
Kirsty Stapleton, whose mother
specialises in genetic manipulation.
She made her daughter’s rabbit
glow in the dark?
Probably a fluorescent gene.
Removed and spliced into the
specimen. Simple enough, these days.
So we know that Dr Stapleton performs
secret genetic experiments on animals.
The question is, has she been working
on something deadlier than a rabbit?
To be fair,
that is quite a wide field.
Hi. Hi.
Come in, come in.
This is…
Are you, um, rich?
Yeah. Right.
There’s a couple of words,
it’s what I keep seeing.
Liberty.
Liberty? Liberty. And…
It’s just that.
Have you finished?
Mean anything to you?
Liberty in death, isn’t
that the expression?
The only true freedom.
What now, then?
Sherlock’s… got a plan? Yes.
Right. We take you back out
onto the moor.
OK… And see if
anything attacks you. What?
That should bring things to a head.
At night?
You want me to go out there
at night? That’s your plan?
Brilliant! Got any better ideas?
That’s not a plan.
If there is a monster out
there, John, there’s
only one thing to do.
Find out where it lives.
(Sherlock.)
(U, M, Q, R, A. Umqra?)
(Sherlock.)
(Sherlock.)
(Sherlock?)
Met a friend of yours? What?
Dr Frankland?
Right. Bob, yeah.
He seems pretty concerned about you.
He’s a worrier, bless him.
He’s been very kind to me
since I came back.
He knew your father? Yeah.
But he works at Baskerville. Didn’t
your dad have a problem with that?
Well, mates are mates, aren’t
they? I mean, look at you and John.
What about us?
Well, I mean, he’s a pretty
straightforward bloke and you…
Well, they agreed never to talk
about work, Uncle Bob and my dad.
Dewer’s Hollow.
(Sherlock.)
My god, my god,
my god! My god! My god!
Did you see it?
Did you hear that? We saw it.
We saw it!
No, I didn’t see anything.
What? What are you talking about?
I didn’t see anything.
Look, he must have seen it.
I saw it. He must have.
He must have.
I… Why? Why?
Why would he say that?
It was there, it was.
Henry, Henry, I need you
to sit down. Try and relax, please.
I’m OK, I feel OK. I’m going to give you
something to help you sleep. All right?
This is good news, John.
It’s… it’s… it’s good.
I’m not crazy.
There is a hound there, there is.
And Sherlock, he saw it too.
No matter what he says, he saw it.
Well, he’s in a pretty bad way.
He’s manic.
Totally convinced there’s some
mutant super-dog roaming the moors.
And there isn’t, though, is there?
If people knew how to make
a mutant super-dog, we’d know.
It’d be for sale.
I mean, that’s how it works.
Listen, on the moor I saw
someone signalling, Morse.
I guess it’s Morse.
It doesn’t seem to make much sense.
U, M, Q, R, A,
does that mean anything?
So, OK, what have we got?
We know there’s footprints,
because Henry found them,
and so did the tour guide bloke.
We all heard something.
Maybe we should just look for
whoever’s got a big dog.
Henry’s right. What?
I saw it, too.
What? I saw it too, John.
Just… just a minute, you saw what?
A hound. Out there in the Hollow.
A gigantic hound.
Look, Sherlock,
we have to be rational about this.
OK, now you,
of all people, can’t just…
Let’s just stick to what we know,
yes? Stick to the facts.
Once you’ve ruled out the
impossible, whatever
remains, however
improbable, must be true.
What does that mean?
Look at me, I’m afraid, John.
Afraid.
Sherlock.
I’ve always been able to
keep myself distant.
Divorce myself from feelings.
But look, you see,
body’s betraying me.
Interesting, yes, emotions.
The grit on the lens,
the fly in the ointment.
Yeah, all right, Spock,
just… take it easy.
You’ve been pretty wired lately,
you know you have.
I think you’ve just gone out there
and got yourself a bit worked up.
Worked up?
It was dark and scary.
Me? There’s nothing wrong with me.
Sherlock…
Sherl… There is nothing wrong
with me! Do you understand!?
You want me to prove it, yes?
We’re looking for a dog, yes?
A great big dog,
that’s your brilliant theory.
Cherchez le chien!
Where shall we start?
How about them?
The sentimental widow and her son,
the unemployed fisherman.
The answer’s yes. Yes?
She’s got a West Highland
Terrier called Whisky, not
what we’re looking for!
For God’s sake!
Look at his jumper, hardly worn.
Clearly he’s uncomfortable.
Could be the material or the hideous
pattern, suggests it’s a present.
He wants into his mother’s
good books. Why? Probably money.
He’s treating her to a meal,
but his own portion is small.
He wants to impress her,
but he’s trying to
economise on his own food.
Maybe he’s not hungry.
No, small plate, starter.
He’s practically licked it clean.
She’s nearly finished
her pavlova.
If she’d treated him,
he’d have had as much as he wanted.
He’s hungry and not well-off, you
can tell by his cuffs and shoes.
Only a mother would give him
a Christmas present like that.
It could be an aunt or older
sister, but mother’s more likely.
He was a fisherman, the scarring on
his hands is distinctive, fish hooks.
They’re old,
suggesting long-term unemployment.
Not much industry here, so he’s turned
to his widowed mother for help. Widowed?
She’s got a man’s
wedding ring on a chain
around her neck, clearly
her late husband’s
and too big for her finger.
She’s well-dressed, but
her jewellery is cheap.
She could afford better,
but she’s kept it, sentimental.
The dog? There are tiny hairs on her
leg but none above the knees,
suggesting it’s a small dog,
probably a terrier.
It is a West Highland Terrier called
Whisky. “How do you know that?”
She was on the same
train as us and I heard
her call its name.
That’s listening.
I use my senses, unlike some people,
so you see, I am fine.
In fact, I’ve never been better,
so just leave me alone!
Yeah, OK.
Why would you listen to me? I’m just
your friend. I don’t have friends.
I wonder why.
Mr Selden,
you’ve done it again!
I keep catching it with my belt.
You’re a bad man.
That’s so mean!
More wine, doctor? Are you
trying to get me drunk, doctor?
The thought never occurred.
Because a while ago I thought
you were chatting me up.
Where did I go wrong?
When you started asking
about my patients.
Well, I am one of
Henry’s oldest friends.
Yeah, and he’s one of my
patients, so I can’t talk about him.
Although he has told me
about all his oldest friends.
Which one are you? A new one?
OK, what about his father?
He wasn’t one of your patients.
Wasn’t he some sort of
conspiracy nutter… theorist?
You’re only a nutter if
you’re wrong. And was he wrong?
I should think so. But he got
fixated on Baskerville, didn’t he?
With what they were doing in there.
Couldn’t Henry have gone the
same way, started imagining a hound?
Why do you think
I’ll talk about this?
Because I think you’re worried about
him and because I’m a doctor too.
And because I have another friend
who might be having the same problem.
Dr Watson! Hi. Hello.
How’s the investigation going?
Hello.
What, investigation?
Didn’t you know? Don’t you read
the blog? Sherlock Holmes.
It’s… Sherlock who?
Private detective. This is his PA.
PA? Well, live-in PA. Perfect!
Live-in..?
This is Dr Mortimer,
Henry’s therapist.
Hello. Bob Frankland.
Listen, tell Sherlock I’ve been
keeping an eye on Stapleton.
Any time he wants a little chat.
All right?
Why don’t you buy him a drink?
I think he likes you.
Morning!
How are you feeling?
I didn’t sleep very well.
That’s a shame.
Shall I make us some coffee?
Look, you’ve got damp!
Listen, last night…
Why did you say
you hadn’t seen anything?
I mean, I only saw the hound
for a minute, but… Hound?
What? Why do you call it a hound?
Why a hound?
Why? What do you mean?
It’s odd, isn’t it?
It’s a strange choice of words,
archaic.
That’s why I took the case.
“Mr Holmes, they
were the footprints
of a gigantic hound.”
Why say “hound”?
I don’t know, I’ve never…
Actually, I’d better skip
the coffee.
Did you get anywhere
with that Morse code?
U, M, Q, R, A, wasn’t it? Umqra.
Nothing. Qra…
Look, forget it. I thought
I was onto something, I wasn’t.
Sure? Yeah.
How about Louise Mortimer,
did you get anywhere with her? No.
Too bad.
But did you get any information?
You’re being funny now?
Thought it might break the ice,
a bit.
Funny doesn’t suit you.
Let’s stick to ice.
John… It’s fine.
Wait, something happened
to me last night,
something I’ve not
experienced before.
Yes, you said. Fear, Sherlock
Holmes got scared, you said.
It was more than that, John.
It was doubt.
I felt doubt.
I’ve always been able
to trust my senses, the
evidence of my own eyes,
until last night.
You can’t actually believe
that you saw some
kind of monster?
No, I can’t believe that.
But I did see it,
so the question is, how? How?
Yeah, right, good.
So you’ve got something to
go on, then. Good luck with that.
Listen, what I said before, John,
I meant it.
I don’t have friends.
I’ve just got one.
Right.
John.
John! You are amazing!
You are fantastic!
Yes, all right,
you don’t have to overdo it.
You may not be the most
luminous of people, but as a
– conductor of light, you are unbeatable.
– Cheers What?
Some people who aren’t
geniuses have an ability
to stimulate it in others.
You were saying sorry.
Don’t spoil it. So what have I done
that’s so bloody stimulating?
Yeah?
What if it’s not a word,
what if it is individual letters?
You think it’s an acronym?
Absolutely no idea, but…
– What the hell are you doing here?!
– Nice to see you too
I’m on holiday, would you believe?
No, I wouldn’t.
Hello, John. Greg.
I heard you were in the area.
What are you up to?
Are you after this Hound of Hell,
like on the telly?
I’m waiting for an explanation,
Inspector, why are you here?
I’ve told you, I’m on holiday.
You’re brown as a nut.
You’re clearly just back
from your holidays.
I fancied another one.
This is Mycroft, isn’t it?
Now, look… Of course it is.
One mention of Baskerville and he sends
down my handler to spy on me, incognito.
Is that why you’re calling
yourself “Greg”? That’s his name.
Is it? Yes.
If you’d ever bothered to find out.
Look, I’m not your handler.
And I just don’t do
what your brother tells me.
Actually, you could be just the man
we want. Why?
Well, I’ve not been idle, Sherlock.
I think I might have found something.
Here.
I didn’t know if it was relevant.
Starting to look
like it might be.
That is an awful lot of meat
for a vegetarian restaurant.
Excellent.
A nice, scary inspector
from Scotland Yard, who
can put in a few calls,
might come in very handy.
Shop.
What’s this?
Coffee. I made coffee.
You never make coffee.
Don’t you want it?
You don’t have to keep apologising.
Thanks.
I don’t take sugar.
These records go back
nearly two months.
That’s nice. It’s good.
Is that when you had the idea,
after the TV show went out?
It’s me. It was me.
I’m sorry, Gary. I couldn’t help it.
I had a bacon sandwich at Cal’s wedding
and one thing led to another. Nice try.
Look, we were just trying to give
things a bit of a boost, you know?
Let a great big dog run wild up
on the moor, it was heaven-sent.
It was like us
having our own Loch Ness monster.
And where do you keep it? There’s
an old mine shaft. It’s not too far.
He was all right there. Was?
We couldn’t control
the bloody thing. It was vicious.
And then, a month ago,
Billy took him to the vet
and, you know…
He’s dead?
Put down.
Yeah. No choice.
So it’s over.
It was just a joke, you know.
Yeah, hilarious
You’ve nearly driven
a man out of his mind.
You know he’s actually pleased
you’re here? Secretly pleased.
Is he?
That’s nice.
I suppose he likes having
all the same faces back together.
Appeals to his… his…
Asperger’s?
So, you believe them about having
the dog destroyed? No reason not to.
Well, hopefully
there’s no harm done.
I’m not quite sure what I’d
charge them with, anyway.
I’ll have a word with
the local force.
Right, that’s that, then.
Catch you later.
I’m enjoying this. It’s nice
to get London out of your lungs.
So that was their dog that people
saw out on the moor? Looks like it.
But that wasn’t what you saw,
that wasn’t just an ordinary dog.
No. It was immense.
It had burning red eyes,
and it was glowing, John,
its whole body was glowing.
I’ve got a theory, but I need to get
back into Baskerville to test it.
How? Can’t pull off
the ID trick again.
Might not have to.
Hello, brother, dear. How ARE you?
Afternoon, sir.
Can you turn the engine off?
Thank you.
I need to see Major Barrymore
as soon as we get inside.
Right. Which means you’ll have to
start the search for the hound. OK.
In the labs.
Stapleton’s first.
It could be dangerous.
You know I’d love to
I’d love to give you unlimited
access to this place. Why not?
It’s a simple enough request, Major.
I’ve never heard of anything so bizarre.
You’re to give me 24 hours, it’s what
I negotiated, not a second more.
I may have to comply with this
order, but I don’t have to like it.
I don’t know what the hell you
expect to find here, anyway.
Perhaps the truth. About what?
I see.
The big coat should have told me.
You’re one of the conspiracy lot,
aren’t you?
Well, then, go ahead, seek them out,
the monsters, the death rays,
the aliens.
Have you got any of those?
Just wondering.
A couple.
Crash landed here in the ’60s.
We call them Abbott and Costello.
Good luck, Mr Holmes.
Come on.
Hello?
No, come on. Come on.
(No… Don’t be ridiculous.)
(Pick up.)
Damn it.
(Right.)
(It’s here. It’s in here with me.)
‘Where are you?’
(Get me out, Sherlock,
you’ve got to get me out.)
(The big lab,
the first lab that we saw.)
‘John… John?’
(Now, Sherlock! Please!)
‘All right, I’ll find you.
Keep talking.’
(I can’t, it’ll hear me.)
‘Keep talking. What are you seeing?
‘John?’
(Yes, I’m here.)
‘What can you see?’
(I don’t know. I don’t know,
but I can hear it now.)
(Did you hear that?)
‘Stay calm, stay calm.
Can you see it?
‘Can you see it?’
(No, I can’t.)
I can see it.
(I can see it.)
(It’s here.)
Are you all right? John?
Jesus Christ! It was the hound!
Sherlock, it was here, I swear it,
Sherlock, it must, it must…
Did-did you see it? You must have!
It’s all right, it’s OK now.
NO, IT’S NOT! IT’S NOT OK!
I saw it, I was wrong!
Well, let’s not jump
to conclusions. What?
What did you see? I told you, I saw
the hound? Huge, red eyes? Yes.
Glowing? Yeah.
No. What?
I made up the bit about glowing.
You saw what you expected to see
because I told you.
You have been drugged.
We have all been drugged. Drugged?
Can you walk?
Of course I can walk.
Come on, then.
It’s time to lay this ghost.
Back again?
What’s on your mind this time?
Murder, Dr Stapleton.
Refined, cold-blooded murder.
Will you tell little Kirsty what
happened to Bluebell, or shall I?
OK. What do you want?
Can I borrow your microscope?
Are you sure you’re OK?
You look very peaky.
No, I’m all right.
It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish,
in case you’re interested. What?
In the rabbits. Right, yeah.
Aequorea victoria,
if you really want to know.
Why? Why not?
We don’t ask questions like that
here. It isn’t done.
It was a mix-up, anyway. My daughter
ended up with one of the lab specimens,
so poor Bluebell had to go.
Your compassion is overwhelming!
I know.
I hate myself sometimes.
So, come on, then, you can trust me,
I’m a doctor,
what else have you got
hidden away up here?
Listen, if you can imagine it,
someone is probably doing it
somewhere. Of course they are.
Cloning? Yes, of course.
Dolly the Sheep, remember?
Human cloning? Why not?
And what about animals? Not sheep.
Big animals.
Size isn’t a problem. Not at all.
The only limits are
ethics and the law and
both those things can
be very flexible.
But not here, not at Baskerville.
It’s not there!
Jesus! Nothing there!
It doesn’t make any sense!
What were you expecting to find?
A drug, of course.
It has to be a drug.
An hallucinogenic
or a deliriant of some kind.
There’s no trace of anything
in the sugar. Sugar? Sugar, yes.
A simple process of elimination.
I saw the hound,
saw it as my imagination
expected me to see it.
A genetically engineered monster.
I knew I couldn’t believe my eyes, so
there were seven possible reasons,
the most possible being narcotics.
Henry Knight, he saw it too, but
you didn’t, John. You didn’t see it.
We have eaten and drunk
the same things since
we got to Grimpen,
apart from one thing.
You don’t take sugar in your coffee.
I see, so?
I took it from Henry’s kitchen,
his sugar.
It’s perfectly all right.
But maybe it’s not a drug.
No, it has to be a drug.
How did it get into our systems?
There has to be something,
something…
Something…
Something buried deep.
Get out. What?
Get out, I need to go to
my mind palace. Your what?
He’s not going to be doing much talking
for a while, we may as well go.
His what? His “mind palace”.
It’s a memory technique,
a sort of mental map.
You plot a map with a location,
it doesn’t have to be a real place.
You deposit memories there.
Theoretically, you
never forget anything.
All you do is find
your way back to it.
So this imaginary location could be
anything, a house or a street? Yeah.
But he said “palace”, he
said it was a palace?
Yeah, well, he would,
wouldn’t he?
♪ You ain’t nothing… ♪
Hound.
My god!
My god! My god! I am so…
I am so sorry. I am so sorry.
John? Yeah, I’m on it.
Project HOUND. I must have
read about it, stored it away.
An experiment in
a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana.
H-O-U-N-D.
That’s as far as my access goes,
I’m afraid.
There must be an override,
a password?
I imagine so,
but that’d be Major Barrymore’s.
Password, password. Password.
He sat here when he thought it up.
Describe him to me? You’ve seen him.
But describe him.
He’s a bloody martinet, a throw-back,
the sort they’d have sent into Suez.
Good, excellent, old-fashioned.
Traditionalist.
Not the sort to use his
children’s name as a password.
He loves his job, proud of it and this
is work-related. So what’s at eye level?
Books.
Jane’s Defence Weekly, bound copies.
Hannibal.
Wellington. Rommel.
Churchill’s History of the
English-Speaking Peoples,
all four volumes.
Churchill, he’s fond of Churchill.
Copy of The Downing Street
Years, one to five.
Separate biographies
of Thatcher.
Mid-1980s, at a guess.
Father and son.
Barrymore Senior, medals,
Distinguished Service Order.
That date, I’d say
Falklands veteran.
Right, Thatcher’s a more likely bet
than Churchill. That’s the password?
No! With a man like Major Barrymore,
only first name terms would do.
Hound.
Jesus.
Project HOUND.
A new deliriant drug which
rendered its users
incredibly suggestible.
They wanted to use it
as an anti-personnel
weapon, to totally
disorientate the enemy
using fear and stimulus.
But they shut it down and
hid it away in 1986.
Because of what it did to the
subjects they tested it on.
And what they did to others.
Prolonged exposure
drove them insane.
Made them almost
uncontrollably aggressive.
So, someone’s been doing it again?
Carrying on the experiments?
Attempting to refine it, perhaps.
For the last 20 years. Who?
Those names mean anything to you?
No, not a thing.
Five principal scientists.
20 years ago.
Maybe our friend’s somewhere
in the back of the picture?
Someone old enough to be there at
the time of the experiments in 1986?
Maybe somebody who says
“cell phone” because of
time spent in America?
You remember, John? -mm.
Here’s my, cell number.
He gave us his number,
in case we needed him.
My god, Bob Frankland.
But Bob doesn’t work on…
He’s a virologist.
This is chemical warfare.
That’s where he started, though.
He’s never lost the
certainty, the obsession
that that drug
really could work.
Nice of him to give us his number.
Let’s arrange a little meeting.
Hello?
Who’s this? You’ve got to find Henry.
It’s Louise Mortimer.
Louise, what’s wrong?
Henry was, was remembering. Then…
He tried…
He’s got a gun, he went
for the gun and tried to… What?
He’s gone. But you’ve got to stop
him, I don’t know what he might do.
Where, where are you?
His house. I’m OK. I’m OK.
Right, stay there.
We’ll get someone to you, OK?
Henry? He’s attacked her. Gone?
There’s only one place he’ll go,
back to where it started.
Lestrade? Get to the Hollow. Dewer’s
Hollow, now! And bring a gun.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry, Dad.
No, Henry, no, no! Get back!
Get away from me!
Easy, Henry, easy. Just relax.
I know what I am,
I know what I tried to do.
Just put the gun down, it’s OK.
No, no! I know what I am!
Yes, I’m sure you do, Henry.
It’s all been explained to you,
hasn’t it?
Explained very carefully. What?
Someone needed to keep you quiet,
needed to keep you as a child, to
reassert the dream you both clung on to,
because you had started to remember.
Remember now, Henry,
you’ve got to remember
what happened here when
you were a little boy.
I thought it had got my dad.
The hound. I thought… Jesus!
I don’t… I don’t know any more!
I don’t!
No, Henry!
Henry, for God’s sake!
Henry, remember.
“Liberty In.” Two words.
Two words a frightened little
boy saw here 20 years ago.
You’d started to piece
things together.
Remember what happened here
that night.
It wasn’t an animal, was it, Henry?
Not a monster.
A man.
You couldn’t cope.
You were just a child.
So you rationalised it
into something very different.
Then you started to remember,
so you had to be stopped.
Driven out of your mind so that no-one
would believe a word that you said.
Sherlock!
It’s OK.
It’s OK, mate.
But we saw it, the hound,
last night. We did, we s…
No, but there was a dog, Henry,
leaving footprints, scaring witnesses,
but nothing more than an ordinary dog.
We both saw it, saw it as our
drugged minds wanted us to see it.
Fear and stimulus,
that’s how it works.
But there never was any monster.
Sherlock?
No! No, no, no, no!
Henry, Henry… Sherlock!
No, no! No, no, no, noooo!
Henry.
Sherlock, are you seeing this?
Right, he is not drugged,
Sherlock, so what’s that?
No! What is it?!
All right, it’s still here.
But it’s just a dog, Henry. It’s
nothing more than an ordinary dog.
My god!
Christ!
No. No!
It’s not you, not you!
.. Urgh…
The fog. What? It’s the fog,
the drug, it’s in the fog!
Aerosol dispersant, that’s
what it said in the records.
Project HOUND, it’s the fog!
A chemical minefield.
For God’s sake, kill it! Kill it!
Look at it, Henry.
No, no, no. Come on, look at it!
You bastard.
You… bastard!
20 years! 20 years of my
life, making no sense!
It’s all over now, come on.
Why didn’t you just kill me?
Because dead men get listened to,
he needed to do more than kill you.
He had to discredit every word
you ever said about your father.
And he had the means
right at his feet.
A chemical minefield,
pressure pads in the ground,
dosing you up every time
that you came back here.
Murder weapon
and scene of the crime all at once.
This case, Henry.
Thank you.
It’s been brilliant! Sherlock. What?
Timing.
Not good? No, no, it’s OK.
It’s fine. Because this means…
this means that my dad was right.
He’d found something out, hadn’t he?
And that’s why you killed him,
because he was right,
and he’d found you right
in the middle of an experiment!
Frankland!
Frankland! Keep running.
Come on, keep up!
It’s no use, Frankland.
Thanks, Bill.
So they didn’t have it put down
then, the dog? Obviously.
I suppose they just couldn’t
bring themselves to do it.
I see.
No, you don’t.
No, I don’t. Sentiment? Sentiment.
Listen, what happened to me
in the lab?
Do you want some sauce with that?
I hadn’t been to the Hollow.
How come I heard
those things there?
Fear and stimulus, you said?
You must have been dosed with it
elsewhere. In the lab, maybe?
You saw those pipes,
pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve.
And they were carrying the gas, so…
Ketchup was it, or brown? Hang on.
You thought it was in the sugar. You
were convinced it was in the sugar.
I’d better get going,
there’s a train
leaving in half an hour,
so if you want…
God! It was you.
You locked me in that bloody lab.
I had to, it was an experiment.
An experiment?! Ssh.
I was terrified, scared to death!
I thought the drug
was in the sugar, so I
put some in your coffee.
Then I arranged everything
with Major Barrymore.
Totally scientific, laboratory
conditions, literally.
(It’s in here with me.) All right,
keep talking, I’ll find you.
Keep talking. (I can’t, it’ll hear
me.) Tell me what you’re seeing.
I don’t know, but I can hear it now.
I knew what effect it
had had on a superior
mind, so I needed to try
it on an average one.
You know what I mean.
But it wasn’t in the sugar. No, well,
I wasn’t to know you’d already
been exposed to the gas.
So you got it wrong. No.
You were wrong. It wasn’t in
the sugar, you got it wrong. A bit.
It won’t happen again.
Any long-term effects?
None at all. You’ll be fine once
you’ve excreted it. We all will.
I think I might have taken care
of that already.
Where are you going?
I won’t be a minute.
Got to see a man about a dog.
All right, let him go.
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