***Recap***
(Mycroft places his phone number down on the table near where Nikki slept. Rebekah smiled at the man as she showed him the way out. After Mycroft left, Rebekah took a seat across from her sister and watched her. When Nikki called her saying that she needed her assistance Rebekah was tempted to not help. The young female Mikaelson was mad that her sister and best friend had left. But now Rebekah was happy that she had come to London, for she had just met her mate.)
***Now***
(PLANETARIUM. Professor Cairns is alone in the planetarium's theatre. As Gustav Holst's "Mars" plays over the sound system, she is standing at the mixing desk in front of a huge screen and watching footage of a film which is played to visitors. Other than the light coming from the screen, the room is in darkness.)
Narrator (over the footage): Jupiter, the fifth planet in our solar system and the largest. Jupiter is a gas giant. Planet Earth would fit into it eleven times.
Cairns (bored): Yes, we know that.
(She stops the recording and fast-forwards it for a moment because starting the playback again.)
Narrator: Titan is the largest moon.
Cairns (fast-forwarding again): Come on, Neptune, where're you hiding?
(Behind her, a hand pushes open the door to the theatre. A moment later, just as Cairns starts the playback again, the door bangs shut. She looks round.)
Narrator: Many are actually long dead ...
(Cairns peers up to the projection room.)
Cairns: Tom? Is that you?
Narrator: ... exploded into supernovas.
(She turns back to the desk. Behind her a long arm reaches out towards her.)
Narrator: ... discovered by Urbain Le Verrier in 1846.
(A tall figure steps up behind Cairns and clamps one hand over her mouth and nose, pulling her backwards.)
Cairns (muffled): Oh my God!
(She claws at the hand, crying out in muffled panic, and her other hand flails out and drags several of the sliders down the mixing desk. The footage begins to jump randomly as Cairns' attacker continues to suffocate her.)
Narrator: ... composed mainly of hydrogen. Their light takes so long to reach us ...
(Sherlock and John race into the theatre through another door. As John stops and aims his pistol towards the attacker, Sherlock yells at the top of his voice.)
Sherlock: Golem!
Narrator ... many are actually long-dead, exploded into supernovas.
(The Golem looks up, grunts in surprise, then snaps Cairns' neck and drops her to the floor. Her fingers drag along the mixing desk and the footage goes into fast-forward again, plunging the theatre into darkness. The Golem ducks down out of sight.)
Sherlock: John!
John: I can't see him. I'll go round. I'll go!
(As the footage continues spooling and then stopping and playing before spooling again, light comes and goes in the room. Sherlock stares around as John hurries off.)
Sherlock (loudly): Who are you working for this time, Dzundza?
(Behind him, the Golem steps out of the fluctuating darkness and clamps one hand around Sherlock's mouth and nose while gripping his neck with the other. Sherlock grabs at the hand on his face, struggling to pull it free as he is slowly suffocated. John races over and stops in front of them, his pistol held in both hands.)
John: Golem!
(He cocks the gun and points it at the Golem's face, his hands and voice steady. At seeing his flatmate in trouble, John wished that Nikki was here.)
John: Let him go, or I will kill you.
(Sherlock, whimpering in his efforts, continues trying to pull the man's hand from his face. The Golem swings him around to the left and lashes out with his long right leg during a moment of darkness, kicking the pistol from John's hands. Dropping Sherlock to the ground, he surges forward and wrestles with John. As Sherlock gets to his feet, the Golem shoves John into him, sending both of the boys tumbling to the floor.)
(Sherlock scrambles up again and takes up a boxing stance in front of him, holding up his clenched fists. He swings a punch at the man but Dzundza grabs his hand and swings his other arm down heavily onto Sherlock's shoulder, dropping him to the floor yet again. The Golem follows him down and clamps both hands over his face, leaning his weight onto them. Behind him, John throws himself onto his back.)
(The Golem roars, releasing Sherlock as he claws at the hobbit on his back. He stands up with John still clinging to his back and spins around several times before finally managing to shake him off onto the floor. As John groggily tries to get up, the Golem turns, picks up Sherlock and skims him across the floor towards John. Sliding across the floor, Sherlock grabs at the pistol and manages to pick it up. The Golem runs for the doors. Sherlock rolls over onto his back and fires twice towards him but the Golem makes it to the doors and disappears through them.)
Narrator: ... long dead, exploded into supernovas.
(As the image of a supernova dramatically explodes on the screen behind him, Sherlock angrily slams his hand down on the floor in front of him.)
(MORNING. HICKMAN GALLERY. Sherlock is standing in front of the Vermeer painting, looking up information on his phone. Nikki has fully recovered stands at her mates side, studying the painting. He calls up subjects such as "Vermeer brush strokes," "Pigment analysis," "Canvas degradation," "UV Light damage," "Delft Skyline, 1600," and "Vermeer influences." John, Lestrade and Miss Wenceslas are standing behind the mates.)
Sherlock: It's a fake. It has to be.
Miss Wenceslas: That painting has been subjected to every test known to science.
Nikki: It's a very good fake, then.
(The mates spins around and glares at her.)
Sherlock: You know about this, don't you? This is you, isn't it?
(Miss Wenceslas turns to Lestrade, looking exasperated.)
Miss Wenceslas: Inspector, my time is being wasted. Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?
(The pink phone rings. Sherlock snatches it from his pocket and switches on the speaker.)
Sherlock: The painting is a fake.
(There's a faint sound of breathing over the speaker but otherwise there is no response.)
Nikki: It's a fake. That's why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed.
(Still there's nothing more than breathing.)
Sherlock: Oh, come on. Proving it's just the detail. The painting is a fake. We've solved it. We've figured it out. It's a fake! That's the answer. That's why they were killed.
(When the phone remains silent, Sherlock takes a deep breath to calm himself.)
Nikki: Okay, we can prove it. Give us time. Will you give us time?
(After a moment, the tremulous voice of a very young boy comes over the phone's speaker.)
Boy's Voice: Ten ...
(Instantly Nikki and Sherlock spins and looks closely at the painting.)
Lestrade (shocked): It's a kid. Oh, God, it's a kid!
John: What did he say?
Sherlock: "Ten."
Boy's Voice: Nine ...
Sherlock (narrowing his eyes as he scans every inch of the painting): It's a countdown. He's giving me time.
Lestrade: Jesus!
Nikki: The painting is a fake, but how can we prove it? How? How?
Boy's Voice: Eight ...
Sherlock (turning and glaring at Miss Wenceslas, while Nikki continues to study the painting): This kid will die. Tell us why the painting is a fake. Tell us!
(Miss Wenceslas flinches and opens her mouth, but Sherlock immediately holds up his hand to stop her.)
Boy's Voice: Seven ...
Sherlock: No, shut up. Don't say anything. It only works if we figure it out.
(Sherlock turns back to the painting again, briefly looking at his mate. Unable to stand the tension, John turns and walks away a few paces. Lestrade turns to watch him, probably wanting to join in the pacing as well.)
Sherlock (to himself, continuing to scan the painting): Must be possible. Must be staring me in the face.
Boy's Voice: Six ...
John (urgently under his breath as he turns back): Come on.
Sherlock: Woodbridge knew, but how?
Boy's Voice: Five ...
Lestrade: It's speeding up!
John (urgently): Nichole, Sherlock.
(Nikki's gaze falls on three tiny white dots of paint in the night sky. Her mouth falls open as the penny finally drops.)
Nikki: Oh!
Boy's Voice: Four ...
Sherlock (seeing what his mate sees): In the planetarium! (looks at John) You heard it too. Oh, that is brilliant! That is gorgeous!
(Turning and shoving the pink phone into John's hands, he walks away from the painting, grinning as he pulls out his own phone from his pocket.)
Boy's Voice: Three ...
John: What's brilliant? What is?
(Sherlock rapidly types "Astronomers" and "Supernovas" into his phone, then turns back and walks towards the others, laughing in delight.)
Sherlock: This is beautiful. I love this!
Boy's Voice: Two ...
Lestrade (furiously): Sherlock!
(Nikki grabs the pink phone from John and yells into it.)
Nikki: The Van Buren Supernova!
(There's a short pause, then the boy's plaintive voice comes from the speaker.)
Boy's Voice: Please. Is somebody there?
(Sherlock and Nikki sigh out a relieved breath.)
Boy's Voice: Somebody help me!
Nikki (turning and handing the phone to Lestrade): There you go. Go find out where he is and pick him up.
(The mates gives John a long look, then turns and points to one of the dots in the sky of the painting.)
Nikki: The Van Buren Supernova, so-called. (Sherlock holds up his phone over his shoulder so that Miss Wenceslas can see the screen.) Exploding star, only appeared in the sky in eighteen fifty-eight. A great year (Nikki mumbles.)
(The mates turns and throws her a triumphant look, then walks away. John drags in a relieved breath, then walks closer to look at the painting.)
John: So how could it have been painted in the sixteen forties?
(He grins over his shoulder at Miss Wenceslas, then looks back to the picture again. His phone trills a text alert.)
John: Oh.
(He digs out his phone, still breathing heavily, and looks at the message which reads:
My patience is
wearing thin.
Mycroft Holmes
He growls slightly, then looks up at the painting one last time.)
John: Oh Sherl...
(He switches off the phone and walks away. Miss Wenceslas stares at the painting in shock.)
(NEW SCOTLAND YARD. Nikki and Miss Wenceslas are sitting side by side in front of Lestrade's desk while the inspector sits in a chair to the side of the desk. Sherlock standing just behind his mate, his hands caressing her shoulders, trying to ease the stress this case has brought on them. Ever since she was attacked, Sherlock had become over protective of her. He continues to gently messaging her shoulders in a calming manner.)
Sherlock: You know, it's interesting. Bohemian stationery, an assassin named after a Prague legend, and you, Miss Wenceslas. This whole case has a distinctly Czech feeling about it. Is that where this leads?
(She looks down and doesn't answer.)
Nikki (looking at Lastrade): What are we looking at, Inspector?
Lestrade (thoughtfully): Well, um, criminal conspiracy, fraud, accessory after the fact at the very least. The murder of the old woman, all the people in the flats ...
Miss Wenceslas (panicked, to Lestrade): I didn't know anything about that! All those things! Please believe me.
(As she continues to stare at Lestrade, Sherlock gives him a tiny nod to confirm that she's telling the truth.)
Miss Wenceslas: I just wanted my share - the thirty million.
(She looks across to Nikki and Sherlock, then sighs and lowers her head again.)
Miss Wenceslas: I found a little old man in Argentina. Genius. I mean, really: brushwork immaculate, could fool anyone.
Nikki/Sherlock (sarcastically): Hm!
Miss Wenceslas (looking at him briefly): Well, nearly anyone. (she turns back to Lestrade.) But I didn't know how to go about convincing the world the picture was genuine. It was just an idea - a spark which he blew into a flame.
Sherlock (sharply): Who?
Miss Wenceslas (shaking her head): I don't know.
(Lestrade gives a disbelieving laugh.)
Miss Wenceslas: It's true! I mean, it took a long time, but eventually I was put in touch with people ... his people.
(Nikki began to get irritated wanting to know who' was behind this.)
Miss Wenceslas: Well, there was never any real contact; just messages ... whispers.
(Nikki leans closer to her, her eyes boring into Miss Wenceslas before compelling her to answer.)
Nikki (holding the woman's gaze with her own): And did those whispers have a name?
(She gazes ahead of herself for a moment, then looks across to Lestrade before nodding. She turns her head to the mates.)
Miss Wenceslas: Moriarty.
(Slowly Nikki sinks back in her chair. As Miss Wenceslas looks anxiously at Lestrade again, Sherlock squeezes his mates shoulders as he gazes into the distance, his eyes full of thought. Eventually he raises his hands into the prayer position in front of his mouth, then grins.)