Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Mr and Mrs Welsborough, this is Mr Sherlock Holmes.
No, we, we agreed we would never bring Rosie out on a case.
Sorry, no, no, because we... we were family.
Oh, God! I'm... I-I don't feel so good.
And a codeword.
Will you two please keep it down?!
Tbilisi. Batch of six. One to Welsborough. One to Hassan.
No. No, no, it's not, but then what's the use in complaining?
What would you do to a traitor?
I swear I will.'
Why am I looking at this?
Rosamund Mary.
- Like I'm some kind of credit junkie. - Definitely a sore spot.
They'll send someone soon.
Because, said Death,
It's nothing. I mean it's nothing serious.
'To settle a bet. The guys here don't believe
- Catherine. - Uh, yeah, we've gone off that.
They're two different things.
Miss me?
- 'Listen, Dad, could you do me a favour?' - What?
- Fascinating. - Oh!
You think you can go on saving her forever?
Betrayed us all. Mary.
Ow! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
the fake seat had melted in the fire, revealing Charlie,
always sure that each will be your last. Anything to add, John?
- They hate the titles. - Give the people what they want.
It's obvious though, isn't it, what happened?
Is that sentiment talking?
Slow but lucky, very lucky.
Oh, you're sweet. You have a very kind face.
'I'm in Tibet. Didn't you see the mountains?'
- No, it does not. - Well, who else am I missing?
You're out of time.
There was a coup in Georgia.
That's when it happened.
Right, yes.
- You thought that?! - Ha, I know.
'Oh, Mary, motherhood's slowing you down.'
You know perfectly well who she is.
I know for a fact I was only 21 this time last week.
Sorry, you were saying?
I'm not running, I promise you that,
Intuitions are not to be ignored, John.
Why is it rubbish? Where are you?
I'd better finish this, hadn't I?
Where is he? I need to see him, now!
Yeah, but some people have that complex, don't they? An idee fixe.
Everything about who I was is on there.
Team of agents, the best. But you know all that.
'And what does he think? Any theories?'
Or blood in a butcher's.
- Oh, God... - Love ginger nuts.
Thatcher's like, I dunno, Napoleon now.
and he's already killed looking for the Thatcher bust.
Could you take a photo and send it?
- 'Bloody hell! Is that a guess?' - I never guess.
Of course she's better. Yeah, OK. Nothing personal.
and way beyond, Charles Augustus...
because we had everything we needed to destroy the other.