MINSK, BELARUS. In a prison visitors’ room, Sherlock – wearing the Coat with a fur collar attached – is sitting at one of the many tables in the room. Sitting on the other side of the table is Barry ‘Bezza’ Berwick, a young Englishman who is wearing an orange jumpsuit and who is obviously a prisoner. With the exception of a uniformed guard who stands some distance away, they are the only people in the room. It’s very cold in the room, as signified by the steam coming from their breath as they speak. Sherlock sounds bored.
SHERLOCK: Just tell me what happened, from the beginning.
BERWICK: We’d been to a bar – a nice place – and, er, I got chattin’ with one of the waitresses, and Karen weren’t ’appy with that, so ... when we get back to the ’otel, we end up havin’ a bit of a ding-dong, don’t we?
(Sherlock sighs out a deliberate and noisy breath.)
BERWICK: She was always gettin’ at me, sayin’ I weren’t a real man.
SHERLOCK: Wasn’t a real man.
BERWICK: What?
SHERLOCK: It’s not “weren’t”; it’s “wasn’t”.
BERWICK: Oh.
SHERLOCK: Go on.
BERWICK: Well, then I dunno how it happened, but suddenly there’s a knife in my hands. And, you know, me old man was a butcher, so I know how to handle knives.
(Sherlock’s gaze lowers to look at Barry’s hands which are resting on the table.)
BERWICK: He learned us how to cut up a beast.
SHERLOCK: “Taught.”
BERWICK (starting to get angry): What?
SHERLOCK: Taught you how to cut up a beast.
BERWICK: Yeah, well, then-then I done it.
SHERLOCK: “Did it.”
BERWICK (losing his temper): Did it! Stabbed her ... (he repeatedly slams his hand down on the table) ... over and over and over, and I looked down and she weren’t ...
(Sighing out a loud breath through his nose, Sherlock turns his head away. Getting control of his temper, Barry immediately corrects himself.)
BERWICK: ... wasn’t movin’ no more.
(Sherlock, who had just turned his head back towards Barry, now turns it away again with an annoyed look.)
BERWICK: ... any more.
(He lets out a shaky breath and lowers his head.)
BERWICK (softly): You’ve gotta help me. I dunno how it happened, but it was an accident. I swear.
(Sherlock gets to his feet and starts to walk away. Barry calls after him frantically.)
BERWICK: You’ve gotta help me, Mr. Holmes!
(Sherlock stops.)
BERWICK: Everyone says you’re the best. Without you, I’ll get hung for this.
(Sherlock looks over his shoulder at the young man.)
SHERLOCK: No, no, no, Mr. Berwick, not at all.
(He looks away thoughtfully for a second.)
SHERLOCK: Hanged, yes.
(He quirks a smile at the man, then turns and walks away.)
