BBC Sherlock S1E2 The Blind Banker

By Shirley Shaw,2014-03-30 22:20
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BBC Sherlock S1E2 The Blind Banker


    BBC Sherlock S01E02 The Blind Banker

YSL: The great artisans say - the more the tea pot is used, the more beautiful it becomes.

    The pot is seasoned by repeatedly pouring tea over the surface. The deposit left on the clay

    creates this beautiful patina, over time. Some pots - the clay has been burnished by tea made

    over four hundred years ago.

    M: Four hundred years old. And they’re letting you use it to make yourself a brew. YSL: Some things aren’t supposed to sit behind glass. They’re made to be touched - to be

    handled. These pots need attention. The clay is cracking. M: Well, I can’t see how a tiny splash of tea is gonna help.

    YSL: Sometimes you have to look hard at something - to see its value. See? This one shines a

    little brighter.

    M: I don’t suppose... I mean, er... I don’t suppose you want to have a drink, perhaps. Not tea!

    I mean a pub. With me. Tonight. Um?

    YSL: You wouldn’t like me all that much.

    M: Can I maybe decide that for myself?

    YSL: I can’t. I’m sorry. Please stop asking.

YSL: Is that security? ... Hello?

ELECTRONIC VOICE: Please place your items in the bag provided.… Item not scanned.

    Please try again.

    JW: You think maybe you could keep your voice down?

    ELECTRONIC VOICE: Card not authorised.

    JW: Yeah. I’ve got it. Alright!

    ELECTRONIC VOICE: Please use an alternative method of payment. Card not authorised. JW: Keep it. Keep that.

SH: You took your time.

    JW: Yeah, I didn’t get the shopping.

    SH: What? Why not?

    JW: I had a row in the shop. With the chip and pin machine. SH: You…you had a row with a machine?

    JW: Well, sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash? SH: Take my card.

    JW: You could always go yourself, you know. You’ve been sitting there all morning - you

    haven’t moved since I left. What happened about that case you were offered? The Jaria diamond.

    SH: Not interested. I sent them a message.

    JW: Dont worry about me, I can manage. …Is that my computer?

    SH: Of course.

    JW: What?



    SH: Mine is in the bedroom.

    JW: What? And you couldn’t be bothered to get up. It’s password protected.

    SH: In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours. Not exactly Fort Knox.

    JW: Right. Thank you. I need to get a job.

    SH: Oh. Dull!

    JW: Listen; umif youd be able to lend me some…Sherlock, are you listening?

    SH: I need go to the bank.

JW: Yes, when you said we were going to the bank...

    SH: Sherlock Holmes

    M: Sherlock Holmes!

    SH: Sebastian.

    M: How are you, buddy? How long’s it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?

    SH: This is my friend John Watson.

    M: Friend?

    JW: Colleague.

    M: Right. Grab a pew. Do you need something? Coffee? Water? No. We’re all sorted here


    SH: So you’re doing well. Youve been abroad a lot.

    M: Well, so?

    SH: Flying all the way round the world. Twice a month.

    M: Right. You're doing that thing. We were at uni together, and this guy here had a trick he used to do.

    SH: It's not a trick.

    M: He could look at you and tell you your whole life story.

    JW: Yes, I've seen him do it.

    M: Put the wind up everybody, we hated him. We'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night. SH: I simply observed.

    M: Go on, enlighten me. Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world, you're quite right. How could you tell? Are you going to tell me there's a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan?

    SH: No, I...

    M: Is it the mud on my shoes?

    SH: I was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told me.

    M: I'm glad you could make it over, we've had a break-in. Sir William's office - the bank's former chairman. The room's been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night.

    JW: What did they steal?

    M: Nothing. Just left a little message. 60 seconds apart. So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around and left within a minute.

    SH: How many ways into that office?

    M: Well, that's where this gets really interesting. Every door that opens in this bank, it gets



    locked right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet.

    SH: That door didn't open last night?

    M: There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you - five figures. This is an advance. Tell me how he got in. There's a bigger one on its way.

    SH: I don't need an incentive, Sebastian.

    JW: He's, er... ..he's kidding you, obviously. Shall I look after that for him? Thanks.

    JW: Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary, you said that just to irritate him. How did you know?

    SH: Did you see his watch?

    JW: His watch?

    SH: The time was right, but the date was wrong. Said two days ago. Crossed the date line twice and he didn't alter it.

    JW: Within a month? How did you get that?

    SH: New Breitling. Only came out this February.

    JW: OK. So do you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer? SH: Got everything I need to know already, thanks. That graffiti was a message. Someone at the bank, working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and... JW: They'll lead us to the person who sent it?

    SH: Obvious.

    JW: Well, there's 300 people up there, who was it meant for?

    SH: Pillars.

    JW: What?

    SH: Pillars and the screens. Very few places you could see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And, of course, the message was left at 11.34 last night. That tells us a lot.

    JW: Does it?

    SH: Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for somebody who came in at midnight. Not many Van Coons in the phone book. Taxi!

JW: So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?

    SH: Just moved in.

    JW: What?

    SH: Floor above, new label.

    JW: Could have just replaced it.

    SH: No-one ever does that.

    W: Hello?

    SH: Hi, um, I live in the flat just below you. I don't think we've met. W: No, well, er, I've just moved in.

    SH: Actually, I've just locked my keys in my flat.

    W: Do you want me to buzz you in?

    SH: Yeah. And can we use your balcony?

    W: What?!



    JW: Sherlock?! Sherlock, are you OK? Yeah, any time you feel like letting me in(!)Do you think he'd lost a lot of money? Suicide is pretty common among City boys. SH: We don't know that it was suicide.

    JW: Come on. The door was locked from the inside, you had to climb down the balcony. SH: Been away three days judging by the laundry. Look at the case, there was something tightly packed inside it.

    JW: Thanks. I'll take your word for it.

    SH: Problem?

    JW: Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's dirty underwear. SH: Those symbols at the bank, the graffiti, why were they put there?

    JW: Some sort of code?

    SH: Obviously. Why were they painted? Want to communicate, why not use e-mail? JW: Well, maybe he wasn't answering.

    SH: Oh, good, you follow.

    JW: No.

    SH: What kind of a message would everyone try to avoid?

    JW: What about this morning?

    SH: Those letters you were looking at?

    JW: Bills?

    SH: Yes. He was being threatened.

    JW: Not by the Gas Board.

    M: ...see if we can get prints off this glass.

    SH: Sergeant, we haven't met.

    M: Yeah, I know who you are and I would prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence.

    SH: I phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?

    M: He's busy. I'm in charge. And it's not Sergeant, it's Detective Inspector Dimmock. We're obviously looking at a suicide.

    JW: It does seem the only explanation of all the facts.

    SH: Wrong, it's one possible explanation of some of the facts. You've got a solution that you like, but you are choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it. M: Like?

    SH: Wound's on the right side of his head.

    M: And?

    SH: Van Coon was left-handed. Requires quite a bit of contortion.

    M: Left-handed?

    SH: I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat.Coffee table on the left-hand side, coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets, habitually used the ones on the left. Pen and paper on the left of the phone. Picked up with his right, took messages with his left. D'you want me to go on?

    JW: No, I think you've covered it.

    SH: I might as well, I'm almost at the bottom of the list. There's a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left. It's highly unlikely



    that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right of his head. Conclusion, someone broke in here and murdered him -only explanation of all of the facts. M: But the gun?

    SH: He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened.

    M: What?

    JW: Today at the bank, sort of a warning.

    SH: He fired a shot when his attacker came in.

    M: And the bullet?

    SH: Went through the open window.

    M: Oh, come on(!)What are the chances of that?!

    SH: Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun, I guarantee it.

    M: If his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in? SH: Good, you're finally asking the right questions.

    M: He's left trying to sort of cut his hair with a fork, which of course can never be done. SH: It was a threat, that's what the graffiti meant.

    M: I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary? SH: I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian. One of your traders, someone who worked in your office, was killed.

    M: What?

    JW: Van Coon. The police are at his flat.

    M: Killed?!

    SH: Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion. Still want to make an appointment (?) Would maybe nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?

    M: Harrow, Oxford...very bright guy. Worked in Asia for a while, so... JW: You gave him the Hong Kong accounts?

    M: Lost 5 million in a single morning, made it all back a week later. Nerves of steel, Eddie had.

    JW: Who'd want to kill him?

    M: We all make enemies.

    JW: You don't all end up with a bullet through your temple.

    M: Not usually. Excuse me. It's my chairman. Police have been on to him. Apparently they're telling him it was a suicide.

    SH: Well, they've got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered.

    M: Well, I'm afraid they don't see it like that.

    SH: So?

    M: And neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don't get sidetracked. JW: I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards.

    W: I need you to get over to Crispians. Two Ming vases up for auction - Chenghua. Will you appraise them?

    M: Soo Lin should go - she's the expert.

    W: Soo Lin has resigned her job. I need you.



W: Just locum work.

    JW: No, that's fine.

    W: You're, um... Well, you're a bit over-qualified.

    JW: Er, I could always do with the money.

    W: Well, we've got two away on holiday this week and one's just left to have a baby. It might be a bit mundane for you.

    JW: Er, no, mundane is good, sometimes. Mundane works.

    W: It says here you were a soldier.

    JW: And a doctor.

    W: Anything else you can do?

    JW: I learned the clarinet at school.

    W: Oh..well, I'll look forward to it.

SH: I said, could you pass me a pen?

    JW: What? When?

    SH: About an hour ago.

    JW: Didn't notice I'd gone out then? I went to see about a job at that surgery. SH: How was it?

    JW: Great. Shes great.

    SH: Who?

    JW: The job.

    SH: She?

    JW: It.

    SH: Yeah, have a look.

    JW: "The intruder who can walk through walls."

    SH: It happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat. Doors locked, windows bolted from the inside. Exactly the same as Van Coon.

    JW: God! You think...?

    SH: He's killed another one.

    SH: Brian Lukis, freelance journalist, murdered in his flat. Doors locked from the inside. JW: You've got to admit, it's similar. Both men killed by someone who can walk through solid walls.

    SH: Inspector, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another city suicide? You have seen the ballistics report, I suppose? And the shot that killed him. Was it fired from his own gun?

    M: No.

    SH: No. So this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel. I've just handed you a murder inquiry. Five minutes in his flat.

    SH: Four floors up. Put a chain across the door, bolt it shut, think they're impregnable. They don't reckon for one second that there's another way in.

    M: I don't understand.



    SH Dealing with a killer who can climb.

    M: What are you doing?

    SH: Clings to the walls like an insect. That's how he got in.

    M: What?!

    SH: He climbed up the side of the walls, ran along the roof, dropped in through this skylight. M: You're not serious?! Like Spider-Man?

    SH: He scaled six floors of a Docklands apartment building, jumped the balcony and killed Van Coon.

    M: Oh, hold on(!)

    SH: That's how he got into the bank - ran along the window ledge onto the terrace. I have to find out what connects these two men.

SH: Date stamped on the book is the same day that he died.

    JW: Sherlock?

    SH: So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher at the bank. Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks himself in. Hours later, he dies.

    JW: The killer finds Lukis at the library, he writes the cipher on the shelf where he knows it'll be seen. Lukis goes home.

    SH: Late that night, he dies too.

    JW: Why did they die, Sherlock?

    SH: Only the cipher can tell us.

    SH: The world's run on codes and ciphers, John. From the million-pound security system at the bank to the PIN machine you took exception to. Cryptography inhabits our every waking moment.

    JW: Yes, OK, but...

    SH: But it's all computer generated -electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It's an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel it. JW: Where are we headed?

    SH: I need to ask some advice.

    JW: What?! Sorry?

    SH: You heard me perfectly. I'm not saying it again.

    JW: You need advice?

    SH: On painting. Yes, I need to talk to an expert.

    M: Part of a new exhibition.

    SH: Interesting.

    M: I call it...Urban Bloodlust Frenzy.

    JW: Catchy(!)

    M: I've got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes around that corner.Can we do this while I'm working?

    SH: Know the author?

    M: I recognise the paint. It's like Michigan...hard-core propellant. I'd say zinc. SH: And what about the symbols? Do you recognise them?



    M: I'm not even sure it's a proper language.

    SH: Two men have been murdered, Raz.Deciphering this is the key to finding out who killed them.

    M: And this is all you've got to go on(?)It's hardly much, is it?

    SH: Are you going to help us or not?

    M: I'll ask around.

    SH: Somebody must know something about it.

    POLICE: Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing? This gallery is a listed public building.

    JW: No, no. Wait, wait. It's not me who painted that. I was just holding this for... POLICE: Bit of an enthusiast, are we?

    M: She was right in the middle of an important piece of restoration. Why would she suddenly resign?

    W: Family problems. She said so in her letter.

    M: But she doesn't have a family. She came to this country on her own. W: Andy!

    M: Look, those teapots, those ceramics. They've become her obsession. She's been working on restoring them for weeks. I can't believe that she would just...abandon them. W: Perhaps she was getting a bit of unwanted attention?

SH: You've been a while.

    JW: Yeah, well, you know how it is. Custody sergeants don't really like to be hurried, do they? Just formalities. Fingerprints, charge sheet, and I've got to be in magistrates' court on Tuesday.

    SH: What?

    JW: Me, Sherlock! In court, on Tuesday! They're giving me an ASBO!

    SH: Good, fine.

    JW: You want to tell your little pal, he's welcome to go and own up any time. SH: This symbol, I still can't place it. No, I need you to go to the police station and ask about the journalist. The personal effects will have been impounded. Get hold of his diary, or something that will tell us his movements. Go and see Van Coon's PA. If you retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide.

    JW: Scotland Yard.

    W: Flew back from Dalian Friday. Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team.

    SH: Can you print me up a copy?

    W: Sure.

    SH: What about the day he died? Can you tell me where he was?

    W: Sorry, I've got a gap.I have all his receipts.

M: Your friend...

    JW: Listen, whatever you say, I'm behind you 100 per cent.



    M: ...he's an arrogant sod.

    JW: Well, that was mild. People say a lot worse than that.

    M: This is what you wanted, isn't it? The journalist's diary?

SH: What kind of a boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?

    W: Um, no. That's not a word I'd use. The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag. SH: Like that hand cream. He bought that for you, didn't he? Look at this one.Got a taxi from him on the day he died, 18.50.

    W: That would get him to the office.

    SH: Not rush hour. Check the time. Mid-morning. 18 would get him as far as... .. W: The West End. I remember him saying.

    SH: Underground, printed at one in Piccadilly.

    W: So he got a Tube back to the office. Why would he get a taxi into town, and then the Tube back?

    SH: Because he was delivering something heavy. You wouldn't lug a package up the escalator.

    W: Delivering?!

    SH: To somewhere near Piccadilly Station. Dropped the package, delivered it, and then... Stopped on his way. He got peckish.

    SH: So you bought your lunch from here en route to the station but where were you headed from? Where did the taxi drop you?

    JW: Oof! Right.

    SH: Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died. Whatever was hidden inside that case...I've managed to piece together a picture, using scraps of information - credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here.

    JW: Sherlock.

    SH: Somewhere in this street, somewhere near. I don't know where, but... JW: That shop, over there.

    SH: How could you tell?

    JW: Lukis' diary. He was here too. He wrote down the address.

    SH: Oh.

JW: Hello.

    W: You want...lucky cat?

    JW: No, thanks, no.

    W: 10! 10 pounds. I think your wife, she will like.

    JW: Um, thank you. Sherlock... The label there.

    SH: Yes, I see it.

    JW: It's exactly the same as the cipher.

    SH: It's an ancient number system - Hang Zhou. These days only street traders use it. Those were numbers written on the wall at the bank and at the library.Numbers written in an ancient Chinese dialect.

    JW: It's a 15. What we thought was the artist's tag, it's a number 15.



    SH: And the blindfold, the horizontal line. That was a number as well. The Chinese number one, John.

    JW: We found it. …Two men travel back from China, both head straight for the Lucky Cat

    emporium. What did they see?

    SH: It's not what they saw. It's what they both brought back in those suitcases. JW: And you don't mean duty free. Thank you.

    SH: Think about what Sebastian told us. About Van Coon, about how he stayed afloat in the market.

    JW: Lost 5 million.

    SH: Made it back in a week. That's how he made such easy money.

    JW: He was a smuggler. Mm.

    SH: Cover would have been perfect. Businessman, making frequent trips to Asia. Lukis was the same, a journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff about. The Lucky Cat was their drop-off.

    JW: But why did they die? It doesn't make sense. If they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they'd finished the job?

    SH: What if one of them was light-fingered?

    JW: How do you mean?

    SH: Stole something. Something from the hoard.

    JW: The killer doesn't know which of them took it so threatens them both. Right. SH: Remind me. When was the last time that it rained? It's been here since Monday. No-one's been in that flat for at least three days.

    JW: Could have gone on holiday.

    SH: Do you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?

    JW: Sherlock!

    SH: Someone else has been here. Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase, just like I did.

    JW: Do you think maybe you could let me in this time? Can you not keep doing this, please? SH: I'm not the first.

    JW: What?

    SH: Somebody's been in here before me.

    JW: What are you saying?

    SH: Size eight feet. Small, but...athletic.

    JW: I'm wasting my breath.

    SH: Small, strong hands. Our acrobat. Why didn't he close the window when he lef...? Oh, stupid, stupid! Obvious. He's still here.

    JW: Any time you want to include me...

    SH: John...John!

    JW: Oh, I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no-one else can compete with my massive intellect(!)

    SH: The milk's gone off and the washing's started to smell. Somebody left here in a hurry three days ago.

    JW: Somebody?


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