[Sherlock impatiently steps into the road to wave it down, and they're finally both ensconced in the back seat and heading towards Caroline's house. Sherlock is deep in thought, trying to pull the clues from the conversation with Moriarty about where Molly would be.
The morgue, of course. But it would never be so simple, that would be a poor clue to be spelled out for them so cleanly. A different morgue? Perhaps. No. He refused to believe she was dead-- what was that noise? It's cutting through his thoughts and scrambling his deductions. He glares over at John, because it's his phone ringing with an unknown number.]
Shut that up.
[Or he will throw it out of the window. This is why his phone is so often off at inopportune moments, or why the doorbell ends up in the fridge.]
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The morgue, of course. But it would never be so simple, that would be a poor clue to be spelled out for them so cleanly. A different morgue? Perhaps. No. He refused to believe she was dead-- what was that noise? It's cutting through his thoughts and scrambling his deductions. He glares over at John, because it's his phone ringing with an unknown number.]
Shut that up.
[Or he will throw it out of the window. This is why his phone is so often off at inopportune moments, or why the doorbell ends up in the fridge.]