When we talk about Sherlock Holmes, we are referring to a person who lives in another possible world. Actually we are referring to a lot of people in lots of different possible worlds. Whether they are the same person or merely counterparts of each other (or not even that if you're strict with accessibility relations) is a question for another day.

The people we are referring to are all those Sherlock Holmeses that fit the exact description given to them by Conan Doyle. There are even more people who resemble Sherlock Holmes than there are people who are Sherlock Holmes as we know him. Again some of these people that merely resemble Sherlock Holmes might share personal identity with the Sherlock Holmes as we know him, or they may not. We only talk about these other Sherlock Holmeses in statements of the form "could have", "possibly" etcetera. There are lots of Sherlock Holmeses that live at 221a Baker Street or 222b Baker Street (are these equal in number?) We might think of those Sherlock Holmeses, what bad luck for them! That they were described so accurately except for one small detail which stops them from being the Sherlock Holmes we refer to in actuality.

But really: the Sherlock Holmes we refer to is not special. He is only special relativized to our world. There are lots of worlds where somebody wrote a book about the character Sherlock Holmes that lived at 222b baker Street. There are lots of worlds where I am the most-loved fictional character. The books and films in those worlds portray me exactly as I really am. There are even worlds where a documentary is made that basically shows my whole life unedited and everybody loves this film. There are worlds where everybody hates this film and the people asked the film-maker why he made such a pointless and boring film that lasted 21 years to watch. There are infinite worlds like those. Worlds that differ only in the camera angles the film was shot at. Infinite worlds for each camera angle combination over the 21 years of film.

There is no strange link between those worlds and this world whereby those worlds somehow pick me out. Or rather, there is, but it is trivial because those worlds pick out me in infinite other worlds as well.

So I'm not that special after all, and neither is Sherlock Holmes.