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| - The screen moves from the sign on the building that reads Baker Street up to a blinded window, where Sherlock Holmes was playing his violin. Down below, Olivia and Dawson have arrived at 221 1/2 Baker Street. Dawson knocks, and Mrs. Judson, the housekeeper, opens the door, her arms full of books, blankets and pillows, as well as a teacup and medieval mace. Dawson removes his hat courteously. Dawson: Good evening, Madam. Is this the residence of Basil of Baker Street? Mrs. Judson: I'm afraid it is. He's not here at the moment, but you're welcome to come in and wait. Dawson: Oh, I-I don't want to impose. It's just...the girl. He gestures towards his side, but Olivia isn't there. Dawson and Mrs. Judson look inside, where Olivia is already seated by the fireplace examining a magnifying glass with interest. Mrs. Judson thrusts her load into Dawson's arms and rushes to her side. Mrs. Judson: (Concerned) Oh my! You poor dear! You must be chilled to the bone! She takes off Olivia's hat and wrings it dry, then removes the girl's scarf. Mrs. Judson: Oh, but I know just the thing. Let me fetch you a pot of tea and some of my fresh cheese crumpets. Mrs. Judson rushes to the kitchen and shuts the door. Olivia looks around the room, fascinated by what she sees. A small propeller is operating a bellow, and attached to that are several cigarettes and a pipe, all of which are puffing. On another table, four different pairs of shoes are being turned in a circular motion, first being brushed with black paint, and then setting a print on a stack of paper. Dawsonis hanging up his coat, but a voice coming from the front door distracts him. Basil's Voice: (Triumphantly) Ah-ha! The villain's slipped this time! I shall have him! The door bursts open to reveal a large mouse dressed in Chinese robes. He smiles triumphantly with a pistol in his hand as lightning strikes. Dawson was petrified as the mouse bursts inside, rushing towards one of the many tables. Basil's Voice: Out of my way! Out of my way! Dawson: I say- Dawson was about to ask him a question, but his question was cut short as the mouse's hat was thrown directly on his own head. He takes it off and addresses him once more. Dawson: Who are you? Basil's Voice: (Speaking more normally) What? He pauses and turns to Dawson. Basil's Voice: Who? He reaches up and pulls off what turns out to be a mask to reveal the one and only Basil. Basil: (Formally) Basil of Baker Street, my good fellow. Basil smiles and Dawson stared at him confusing. Basil pulls at a tab on his robe, which lets air escape to reveal his slender form, surprising Dawson even more. Olivia, on the other hand, is relieved to see him and approaches eagerly. Olivia: Mr. Basil! I need your help, and I- Basil was clearly not listening to her as puts on his smoking jacket. Basil: All in good time. Basil tosses a dart over his shoulder, scoring a direct bullseye on the dartboard. Olivia: (More desperately) But-but you don't understand. I'm in terrible trouble. Basil: (Ignores Olivia) If you'll excuse me. Basil walks by, and Olivia sighs. Dawson: (Impatiently) Here, now, now. Now see here! He shakes a finger at Basil, who once more rushes right by the two of them. Dawson pauses momentarily, but soon regains his wind. Dawson: This young lady is in need of assistance. I think you ought... Basil interrupts him by handing him the pistol. Basil: Will you hold this, please, Doctor? Dawson accepts gracefully... Dawson: Of course. ...but with his eyes closed, Dawson doesn't realize at first what he's holding and points the pistol at his head. He opens his eyes, and then nervously holds it out at arms length until Basil retrieves it. Dawson: (Puzzled) Ah, wait just a moment. How did you know I was a doctor? Basil picks up a single bullet and places it in the pistol, all the meanwhile answering Dawson without interruption.↲Basil: A surgeon, to be exact. Just returned from military duty in Afghanistan. Am I right? Dawson: Why...(Chuckles) Oh, yes. Major David Q. Dawson. But how could you possibly- Basil: Quite simple, really. He holds up Dawson's arm to reveal a stitch mark on his jacket. Basil: You've sewn your torn cuff together with the Lembert stitch, which of course, only a surgeon uses. He continues speaking as he gathers several pillows. Basil: And the thread is a unique form of catgut distinguished by its... Basil whispers to Olivia: Basil: ...peculiar pungency... Olivia was befuddled. Basil: ...found only in the Afghan provinces. One by one, Basil tosses the three pillows at Dawson, who holds them against his body, his face mostly covered. Dawson: (Muffled) Amazing! Basil spins the revolver. Basil: (Simply) Actually it's...elementary, my dear Dawson. Basil aims it at the pillows. Dawson looks around in terror and throws the pillows onto an armchair. As Basil calmly readjusts his aim, Dawson jumps behind the opposite chair, seizing Olivia's arm and bringing her behind it. The pistol fires, and pillow feathers fly as they cautiously peek out. Mrs. Judson rushes back out at the stentorian report. Mrs. Judson: (Panicking) What in heaven's name? Soon, she discovers her pillows are nothing but feathers. Mrs. Judson: (Distraught) Oh! Oh! My... She spits out several feathers. Mrs. Judson: MY GOOD PILLOWS! She glares angrily in Basil's direction. He is kneeling in the chair, tossing the feathers aside. Mrs. Judson: MR. BASIL! He pops his head above the chair as she spits out more feathers. Mrs. Judson: How many times have I told you not to... Basil interrupts Mrs. Judson Basil: There, there, Mrs. Judson, it's quite all right. Basil smells cheese crumpets from the kitchen. Basil: Ah...(Sniffs) Mmm! I believe I smell some of those delightful cheese crumpets of yours. He gently pushes Mrs. Judson back to the kitchen.↩Basil: Why don't you fetch our guests some? Mrs. Judson: But, ah, but, but... Basil shuts the door, silencing her. Basil: Now... (He gets on his hands and knees and searches on the floor) I know that bullet's here somewhere. Olivia has found it and was holding it up for him. He snatches it. Basil: (Grudgingly) Thank you, Miss... Olivia: Flaversham. Olivia Flaversham. Basil: (Distracted) Whatever. Olivia: Yes, but you don't understand-- Basil: Shhh! Basil opens a small box and pulls out another bullet. Taking the one he just fired, he puts them under a microscope and compares their markings. The first reading matches... Basil: Yeah... ...so does the second one. Basil: Yes! However, from the third direction, the markings go off in separate directions. Basil: (Yells) NOOOOOOOOOO! Drat! (Depressed) Another dead end. Dejected, Basil tosses the extra bullet aside and slowly walks over to his chair. Basil: He was within my grasp.
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