Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- Ah, Mr. Prince, isn't it? - Yes.

It's your brother.

- Please! - I want to know.

it was botulinum toxin.

Oh, I'm sure something will turn up, Sherlock.

We grew up together.

Pointless, you'll never find him, but I know a man who can.

Excuse me, can I get through? Excuse me. Can I get through?

that, um... you offered to do... that was, um... good.

I'll give you...

He wasn't meant to...

Just tell me what happened from the beginning.

Just saving her time. Isn't that kinder?

- Is there? - Yes. Why is he doing this, the bomber?

Stuff I've got on is just too big. I can't spare the time.

- Who was it from? - I can play it for you, if you like.

The shoes are well worn, more so on the inner side,

so somebody sent the Golem to take care of him. Was it you?

That... That's the phone. The pink phone.

I'll do my best.

What's he like to live with?

- Or if you hadn't solved the case. - Oh... Elegant!

Then at Westie's engagement do, he starts talking about his job.

He organises these things, but no-one ever has direct contact.

It's a countdown. We've only had four.

It's the only possible explanation.

Seems the logical assumption.

- Did you ever see her show? - Not until now.

He sounded so soft.

"You do see, you just don't observe!"

I don't want to rush it, though.

All your little puzzles, making me dance.

All to distract me from this.

The killer kept the shoes all these years.

- What? - Sherlock.

painted in the 1640s?

- You can't just ignore it. - I'm not ignoring it.

- The fan site's indispensable for gossip. - ...really only one thing we can do

- You haven't opened it? - It's addressed to you, isn't it?

All right? Are you all right?

I don't think he ever mentioned you.

she cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden.

You solved my last puzzle in nine hours.

Not a patch on Connie Prince.

Then we must assume that some poor bugger's primed to explode, yeah?

- Sorry, what? - I referred to her husband

I saw it on the telly. Are you OK?

But there it was. And I thought...

We've found it.

He kept scratching it. Obviously irritating him, and bleeding.

- No, there's a head in the fridge. - Yes?

- Who are you? - Sherlock Holmes.

Yeah, speaking of strawberry jam, there's no blood on the line.

- Oh, yes? - Yes.

Two hours later he comes up to London,

...and you know me old man was a butcher, so I know how to handle knives.

- Bloody hell! What are you playing at? - Sorry!

Over and over and over, and I looked down, and she weren't...

- That was Ian all over. - No, it wasn't.

Don't you see? We're one up on him.

- Sacked on the spot. - Not a problem.

bad marriage, whatever - Janus Cars will help you disappear.

I noticed one on the way in and I haven't got any change. I'm gasping.

He was involved in the Bruce-Partington Program in a minor capacity.