Upstairs in the living room of the flat, Sherlock is lying stretched out on the sofa with his head towards the window and resting on a cushion. With his jacket off and his shirt sleeves unbuttoned and pushed up his arms, he has his eyes closed and he is pressing the palm of his right hand firmly onto the underside of his left arm just below the elbow. After some seconds his eyes snap open wide and he stares fixedly up towards the ceiling, then he sighs out a noisy breath and relaxes. John comes through the door, then stops and stares as Sherlock repeatedly clenches and unclenches his left fist.
JOHN: What are you doing?
SHERLOCK (calmly): Nicotine patch. Helps me think.
(He lifts his right hand to show that he has three round nicotine patches stuck to his arm and it was these which he was pressing against his skin to release the substances more quickly.)
SHERLOCK: Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work.
(He loudly clicks the ‘k’ on ‘work’. Your transcriber dutifully wibbles.)
JOHN (walking further into the room): It’s good news for breathing.
SHERLOCK (dismissively): Oh, breathing. Breathing’s boring.
(John frowns as he looks more closely at Sherlock’s arm.)
JOHN: Is that three patches?
SHERLOCK (pressing his hands together in the prayer position under his chin): It’s a three-patch problem.
(He closes his eyes. John looks around the room for a moment, then looks down at Sherlock again.)
JOHN: Well?
(Sherlock doesn’t respond.)
JOHN: You asked me to come. I’m assuming it’s important.
(Sherlock still doesn’t respond instantly, but after a couple of seconds his eyes snap open. He doesn’t bother turning his head to look at John.)
SHERLOCK: Oh, yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?
JOHN: My phone?
SHERLOCK: Don’t wanna use mine. Always a chance that the number will be recognised. It’s on the website.
JOHN: Mrs Hudson’s got a phone.
SHERLOCK: Yeah, she’s downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn’t hear.
JOHN (beginning to get angry): I was the other side of London.
SHERLOCK (mildly): There was no hurry.
(John glares at him as he gazes serenely at the ceiling before closing his eyes again. Eventually John digs his phone out of his jacket pocket and holds it towards him.)
JOHN: Here.
(Without opening his eyes, Sherlock holds out his right hand with the palm up. John glowers at him for a moment, then steps forward and slaps the phone into his hand. Sherlock slowly lifts his arm and puts his hands together again, this time with the phone in between his palms. John turns and walks a few paces away before turning around again.)
JOHN: So what’s this about – the case?
SHERLOCK (softly): Her case.
JOHN: Her case?
SHERLOCK (opening his eyes): Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase. First big mistake.
JOHN: Okay, he took her case. So?
