"Mr. Cranston." The name was unfamiliar but one mystery at a time. Watson could look it up later.

Sherlock seems to not mind the extra hands on the situation, pleased that Mr. Cranston was taking an interest. He paces the room with distracted thoughts of his own, stopping now and again to crouch to the floor and follow a clue with his magnifying glass. "I have my suspicions but nothing more at this point."

Are you familiar with detective work, Mr. Cranston? Watson asks, sounding genuinely interested. While he is a robot, it is easy to think of him as more than that. Whatever glitch had turned the compu-droid into Watson had humanized him.

Sherlock had walked over closer to observe and answers before Lamont can, "He is a scientist from New York that was pulled here by forces unknown...and, I suspect like myself, he has been pulled away from his own time." A stretch of a deduction perhaps even for Sherlock, but he has had a bit of time to catch up on modern science fiction. Time travel, while it was still in the realm of fiction was not entirely un-attainable.