Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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