All That I Have to Say Has Already Crossed Your Mind

“'All that I have to say has already crossed your mind,' said he.

“'Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,' I replied. 

And This Was How I First Met :

Tyler Durden.

“'You stand fast?' 

“'Absolutely.' 

“He clapped his hand into his pocket, and I raised the pistol from the table. But he merely drew out a memorandum-book in which he had scribbled some dates. 

“'You crossed my path on the 4th of January,' said he. 'On the 23d you incommoded me; by the middle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an impossible one.' 

“'Have you any suggestion to make?' I asked. 

“'You must drop it, Mr. Holmes,' said he, swaying his face about. 'You really must, you know.'

“'After Monday,' said I. 

“'Tut, tut,' said he. 'I am quite sure that a man of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair. It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have worked things in such a fashion that we have only one resource left. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I say, unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take any extreme measure. You smile, sir, but I assure you that it really would.' 

“'Danger is part of my trade,' I remarked. 

“'That is not danger,' said he. 'It is inevitable destruction. 

You stand in the way not merely of an individual, but of a mighty organization, the full extent of which you, with all your cleverness, have been unable to realize. 

You must stand clear, Mr. Holmes, or be trodden under foot.' 

“'I am afraid,' said I, rising, 'that in the pleasure of this conversation I am neglecting business of importance which awaits me elsewhere.' 

“He rose also and looked at me in silence, shaking his head sadly. 

“'Well, well,' said he, at last. 'It seems a pity, but I have done what I could. I know every move of your game. You can do nothing before Monday. It has been a duel between you and me, Mr. Holmes. 

You hope to place me in the dock. I tell you that I will never stand in the dock. 

You hope to beat me. I tell you that you will never beat me. 

If you are clever enough to bring destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall do as much to you.' 

“'You have paid me several compliments, Mr. Moriarty,' said I. 'Let me pay you one in return when I say that if I were assured of the former eventuality I would, in the interests of the public, cheerfully accept the latter.' 

“'I can promise you the one, but not the other,' he snarled, and so turned his rounded back upon me, and went peering and blinking out of the room. 

“That was my singular interview with Professor Moriarty. 

I confess that it left an unpleasant effect upon my mind. His soft, precise fashion of speech leaves a conviction of sincerity which a mere bully could not produce. Of course, you will say: 'Why not take police precautions against him?' the reason is that I am well convinced that it is from his agents the blow will fall. 

I have the best proofs that it would be so.” 

“You have already been assaulted?” 

“My dear Watson, Professor Moriarty is not a man who lets the grass grow under his feet. I went out about mid-day to transact some business in Oxford Street. 

As I passed the corner which leads from Bentinck Street on to the Welbeck Street crossing a two-horse van furiously driven whizzed round and was on me like a flash. I sprang for the foot-path and saved myself by the fraction of a second. 

The van dashed round by Marylebone Lane and was gone in an instant. I kept to the pavement after that, Watson, but as I walked down Vere Street a brick came down from the roof of one of the houses, and was shattered to fragments at my feet. I called the police and had the place examined. 

There were slates and bricks piled up on the roof preparatory to some repairs, and they would have me believe that the wind had toppled over one of these. 

Of course I knew better, but I could prove nothing. 

I took a cab after that and reached my brother's rooms in Pall Mall, where I spent the day. Now I have come round to you, and on my way I was attacked by a rough with a bludgeon. 

I knocked him down, and The Police have him in custody; but I can tell you with the most absolute confidence that no possible connection will ever be traced between the gentleman upon whose front teeth I have barked my knuckles and the retiring mathematical coach, who is, I dare say, working out problems upon a black-board ten miles away. 

You will not wonder, Watson, that my first act on entering your rooms was to close your shutters, and that I have been compelled to ask your permission to leave the house by some less conspicuous exit than the front door.” 

Mycroft :

Do you? 

Sherlock :

Do I what? 

H-how did you get that? 

I left it at the crime scene. 

Mycroft :

"Crime scene"? 

Where do you pick up these extraordinary expressions? 

Do you miss him? 

Sherlock :

Moriarty is dead.

Mycroft :

And yet...? 

Sherlock :

His body was never recovered. 

Mycroft :

To be expected when one pushes a maths professor over a waterfall. 

Pure reason toppled by sheer melodrama. 

Your life in a nutshell. 

Sherlock :

Where do you pick up these extraordinary expressions? 

(HE SNIFFS) 

Sherlock :

Have you put on weight? 

Mycroft :

You saw me only yesterday. 

Does that seem possible? 

Sherlock :

No. 

Mycroft :

Yet, here I am, increased. 

What does that tell the foremost criminal investigator in England? 

Sherlock :

In England? 

Mycroft :

You're in deep, Sherlock, deeper than you ever intended to be. 

Have you made a list? 

Sherlock :

Of what? 

Mycroft :

Everything. We will need a list. 

Good boy. 

Sherlock :

No, I haven't finished yet. 

Mycroft :

Moriarty may beg to differ. 

(HE SIGHS) 

Sherlock :

He's trying to distract me. 

To derail me. 

Mycroft :

Yes. He's the crack in the lens, the fly in the ointment

The virus in the data. 

Sherlock :

I have to finish this. 

Mycroft :

If Moriarty has risen from the Reichenbach cauldron, he will seek you out. 

Sherlock :

I'll be waiting.

Mycroft :

Yes. I'm very much afraid you will..... 

Mrs. Hudson : 

Two days he's been like that. 

Lestrade :

Has he eaten? 

Mrs. Hudson : 

No, not a morsel. 

Lestrade :

Press are having a ruddy field day. 

There's still reporters outside. 

Mrs. Hudson : 

Oh, they've been there all the time, I can't get rid of them. 

I've been rushed off my feet making tea. 

Lestrade :

Why do you make him tea? 

Mrs. Hudson : 

I dunno, I just sort of — do. 

Lestrade :

He said, "There's only one suspect," and then he just walks away and now he won't explain. 

Which is strange, because he likes that bit. 

Said it was so simple I could solve it. 

Mrs. Hudson : 

I'm sure he was exaggerating. 

Lestrade :

What's he doing, do you think? 

Mrs. Hudson : 

He says he's waiting. 

Lestrade :

For what? 

Mrs. Hudson : 

The Devil. 

I wouldn't be surprised. 

We get all sorts here. 

Well, wire me if there's any change. 

Mrs. Hudson : 

Yeah. 

(CREAKING) 

(FOOTSTEPS) 

Lucifer :

Everything I have to say has already crossed your mind. 

Sherlock :

Then possibly my answer has crossed yours. 

Lucifer :

Like a bullet. 
. It's a dangerous habit, to finger loaded firearms in the pocket of one's dressing gown. 
Or are you just pleased to see me? 
(NECK CREAKS) 


Sherlock :
You'll forgive me for taking precautions. 

Lucifer : 
I'd be offended if you didn't. 
Obviously, I've returned the courtesy. 
(BARREL CLICKS) 
I like your rooms. 
They smell so... ..manly. 

Sherlock :
I'm sure you acquainted yourself with them before now. 

Lucifer :

Well, you are always away, 
on your little adventures for The Strand. 
Tell me, does the illustrator travel with you?
 Do you have to pose... during your deductions? 

Sherlock :
I'm aware of all six occasions you have visited these apartments during my absence. 

 Lucifer :
I know you are. 
By the way, you have a surprisingly comfortable bed. 

Sherlock :
Did you know that dust is largely composed of human skin? 

Lucifer :
Yes. Doesn't taste the same, though, you want your skin fresh. 
Just a little crispy. 

Sherlock :
Won't you sit down? 


Lucifer :
That's all people really are, you know, dust waiting to be distributed. 
And it gets everywhere. Ugh. 
In every breath you take, dancing in every sunbeam, all the used-up people. 

Sherlock :
Fascinating, I'm sure. 
Won't you sit... 

Lucifer :
People, people, people! 
Can't keep anything shiny. 

Do you mind if I fire this? 
Just to clean it out. 

Exactly, let's stop playing. 
We don't need toys to kill each other. 
Where's the intimacy in that? 

Sherlock :
Sit down. 

Lucifer :
Why? What do you want? 

Sherlock :
You chose to come here. 

Lucifer :
Not true, you know that's not true.
What do you want, Sherlock? 

Sherlock :
The Truth. 

Lucifer :
That. Truth's boring! 

You didn't expect me to turn up at the scene of the crime, did you? 
Poor old Sir Eustace. 
He got what was coming to him. 

Sherlock :
But you couldn't have killed him. 

Lucifer :
Oh, so what? Does it matter? 

Sherlock :
Stop it. Stop this. 

Lucifer :
You don't care about Sir Eustace, or the Bride, or any of it. 

There's only one thing in this whole business that you find interesting. 

Sherlock :
I know what you're doing. 
(RATTLING) 

Lucifer : 

The Bride put a gun in her mouth and shot the back of her head off and then she came back. 

Impossible. But she did it. 

And you need to know how. 
How? Don't you? 
It's tearing your world apart, not knowing. 

Sherlock :
You're trying to stop me... 
To distract me, derail me. 

Lucifer : 
Because doesn't this remind you of another case? 
Hasn't this all happened before? 
There's nothing new under the sun. What was it? 

What was it? What was that case? 
Huh? Do you remember? 
It's on the tip of my tongue. 
It's on the tip of my tongue. 
It's on the tip of my tongue. It's on the tip... ..of my tongue. 

Sherlock :
For the sake of Mrs. Hudson's wallpaper, I must remind you that one false move with your finger and you will be dead. 
(HE MUMBLES) 
I'm sorry? 

Lucifer : 
Dead... is the new sexy. 
(RUMBLING) 
(GUNSHOT) 

Well, I'll tell you what, that rather blows the cobwebs away. 

Sherlock :
How can you be alive? 

How do I look? Huh? 
You can be honest, is it noticeable? 

Sherlock :
You blew your own brains out, 

how could you survive? 

Lucifer : 
Or maybe I could backcomb. 


Sherlock :
I Saw You Die. 
Why aren't You dead? 

Because it's not The Fall that kills you, Sherlock. 
Of all people, you should know that, 

it's not The Fall, it's never The Fall. 
It's The Landing!