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With an hour before boarding, there's only one place to go, the Chase Sapphire Lounge by the club. There, you can recharge before the big adventure or enjoy a locally inspired dish. You can recline in a comfy chair to catch up on your favorite show or order a craft cocktail at the bar.
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For just £6 a month, you can get early access to ad-free episodes. Now just binge those full adventures immediately. And that is just the tip of the iceberg. There's so much more over at patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co. Just £6 a month. £6. Yeah, that is cheaper than parking at Heathrow for 29 minutes. Do you know that? Yeah. 29 minutes in a Heathrow car park or Sherlock and Co. Members Club. You decide.
patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co. Previously on Sherlock and Co. This is Maud. Oh, you're visiting on holiday? No, she's not. No, I'm not. So what brings you across the border down into the big smoke? Across the sea and across the border. My fiancé is dead. My name is Maud Elspeth Bellamy. I'm 20 and I live on Fiarra. Fiarra?
Wow. Fyara? Aye, so Fyara is a wee island between Orkney and Shetland, very north. Everybody kind of knows everybody. Things tangle together a wee bit, you know. Big tentacles of gossip and scandal and chatter can kind of run between everybody. OK, so my fiancé is Harris Staghurst. Six years older than me. He worked for my dad and brother. I got a call. Found his boat way out at sea. And he was in it. Dead. I looked in the boat and there he was. Bloody...
The wetsuit was all torn and his skin, it was like these thick purple lashes against them, like he'd been whipped and burned. It was swollen and inflamed, these giant welts and blisters leaking with pus and blood and it was just, it was awful. He had started to engrave a message on the side of the boat. What did it say? Lion. Lion. Lion.
Do you believe it to be murder, Maud? He'd been scuba diving since he was ten. This ain't no accident. This part of the North Sea, they call it the Viking Bank. Ancient hills and mountains that may have even held people once upon a time, swallowed by the sea. Look. Wow. Wow what? Aye. Oh my word. That is something.
Welcome to Fjara. Hey, crime solvers. Welcome back to the adventure of The Lion's Mane. Please take a seat, put your seatbelt on, put any valuables in this bag, arms and legs inside the vehicle, and, yeah, don't throw up. Well, here we are. It's very homely. Character. Character.
Sort of vintage look to it, this. Probably a real hit with the tourists. What do we say we are? I sense they don't take too kindly to visitors. Here on business? I like it. Me too. The lion's mane. Ready to go in? After you. MUSIC
I can carry these bags, honestly. It's no problem. You staying long? I haven't quite decided yet. See how things pan out. But we'll be up early each day, I expect. Why? What are you here for? Um, just business matters. But up early every morning, is it? Yeah, yeah. Going to see a man about a dog sort of thing. Oh!
Keep your secrets then. A man about a dog? It's an expression. Something British thing. Being vague about your business. Do you know why the pub's called the Lion's Mane? I don't. Are you sure you don't want us to carry our bags? Long ago, a myth told people on this island became a fact of science. They used to speak of the lion.
A cat-like beast that would stalk across the mainland until... One day, Hanum, a young laddy of Fyara, fancied himself as a wee bit of an expert, a sceptic of all things mystical. I know the sort. Why are you looking at me? We challenged the islanders to prove this mythical creature existed. So, in 1240...
Bjorgen of the Cove set sail and after nearly two years he came back sailed into the Fullworth Bay pulled his cargo up the banks and threw the body of a lion down at the feet of Hannum at this very spot a myth shattered a legend born and a pub founded here's your room aww I like it
The story, I mean. Yeah, very cool. Very nice. Room is satisfactory. And unlike the story, very much real. Lions are real, mate. That was the point of the story. Would you be wanting anything before you go to bed? A table in the pub downstairs. We're meeting somebody. I'll get that set for you. Who are we meeting? We're going to see a man about a corpse. Oh, lovely.
Oh, a nice dark pub. It's my kind of place. Yeah, I like the murals on the walls. Yeah, yeah. Let me just give the listeners the rundown in here. Yeah, so, in the Lion's Mane Inn. Pretty dark, low ceilings. Looks like some proper ales behind the bar. Going to have to get stuck into them, let me tell you. Then the murals. Creepy stuff. Lots of mythical creatures and vikings and longboats all over the walls. Um...
A few tables dotted around, candles burning. No TV or anything. And a bloke staring at us. Good evening. You must be Inspector Barle. Sherlock Holmes? Yes, that's right. Good to meet you, Inspector Barle. Call me Fergus, please. Fergus, this is Dr Watson and Mrs Hudson. Hi, how are you? Fergus Barle is of the Highlands and Islands Constabulary.
He was dispatched here following the discovery of Harris Stackhurst's body. Oh, okay. That makes sense. I thought you suddenly knew some Fiora locals. No, I'm certainly not a local, as they have made very clear during my stay. Fergus, tell us everything you know and, most importantly, feel about this case. Certainly. Well, seeing as it's the evening, you can join me in the local delicacy.
Oh, that's strong. That's strong whiskey. It's smooth, though. I'd say that's quite smooth. I feel like my throat's on fire. I've got myself a couple of bottles of this to take back. What do you think, Watson? Shall we purchase some Lyona's Song? Lyona's Song. Yeah, good. Good idea. Good idea. Oh, my eyes are watering. In a good way. Good way. Lyona. That's Scottish, right? Scottish Gaelic? No. It's a local word. A mythological creature type thing.
Bitch of the sea, as some people call her. Nice. You can see her on there. On the walls. The murals. So she's like a sea creature? She's on the bottle too, so it looks like a sexy octopus. Don't let them hear you talk of Lyona like that, mate. Oh, they take the sea very seriously, huh? It's the whole ecosystem of their island. That and Bellamy's barnacles, eh? They say that if you set sail with guilt in your heart...
Leona will call you over. Like a siren? Or a mermaid? That's right. You see the face of a beautiful woman in the water. Ghostly white. Lush green eyes. Thick black hair. At least, you think it's hair. What... what is it? Long black tentacles. They come writhing out of the water, reaching higher than a ship's mast, and pull you under.
She wraps you up like a spider does a fly, and sticks you to the bottom of the sea. She sounds nice. It would seem there is plenty to fear under those waters already. No need for myth or legend. Here. What? Picture of the boat we found Harrison. Yes, we know this. Know what? Oh crap. What? Iona. L-I-O-N.
Oh my god, that's what Harris scratched into the boat. Try telling the islanders she's just a myth now, eh? Inspector, you said the locals haven't made you feel welcome. They're messing with you. Someone must have tampered with his boat before he was found. Maud said it too, Sherlock. Nice to meet someone as sceptical as me. But look, there's no murder I can see. How so? I've looked at this case closely, alright?
I try and shut out the locals and focus on what I see, not what I hear. And what do you see? I see the Martini effect. Nitrogen Narcosis. The marks on his skin. The tearing of his wetsuit. Look, the lad was scuba diving damn near every night. He's not getting sleep, he's breathing in this stuff. Constantly compressing, decompressing. It sends you nutty.
Ask any accomplished diver, right? But how did he end up like that? His wetsuit, his skin, on the boat? The martini effect. And sorry to interrupt, what is that exactly? Divers consume very dense concentrations of nitrogen as part of their breathing apparatus. Too much nitrogen in the body can affect the nervous system, like having a martini on an empty stomach, they say. But go deep enough for long enough...
And that tipsy euphoria turns to fuzzy thinking, exasperation and derangement. Exactly. But what was he doing out there? Every night. I mean, swimming in pitch black in the North Sea. It sounds like hell. He was probably getting off on it. As your man says, euphoria. There are easier ways to get high. Be seen as a waster and face the judgement of this island. I'd like to see him. To see Harris? Yes, tonight, before you leave.
They don't have much internet on the island. They've got one road. Just about got gas and all sorts pumped to them from undersea pipes. They don't have a football team or a cinema or a supermarket. But if you want a place to be able to store a corpse before burial... A fish freezer. Fiarra is that place. Whole island full of them. This funeral director bought some for himself. Whole basement of them. Harris has been sent back here after his post-mortem in Inverness. He's getting buried in a few days.
Here we are. Oh, wow. Ah, man, that's brutal. What do you see, Sherlock? He did carve the letters. Leona, he actually did. Well, he did L-I-O-N. I don't wish to disappoint, but that does not spell Leona. Pretty close, though, mate. How can you tell he carved it? There's very fine fractures of wood under his fingernails here. He was right-handed, but he used his left hand.
Right arm must be broken or wounded somehow. Out of its socket. Shoulder. No, it's back in. He probably did it himself. Got some sinking by the rotator cuff. Yeah, and there's that crunch. So he's put that back in after whatever happened, happened. OK, OK, but why would a man in the bout of some sort of...
Scuba-induced psychosis put his shoulder back into its socket. Good question. Tooth missing. Lateral incisor. Some dry blood in the gum. Root has come out with it. Dental health is always very solid.
Interesting. Bruising on the lip as well. It's puffy. From the devil's mouthpiece? Not sure about that. That's a knuckle, I'd say, landing on his lips. A knuckle? Yeah. Yeah, looks like Harris has had a bit of a fight. Not just shunned by the community, but attacked. Not really looking like the martini effect right now.
More like the eight cans of Stellar Effect at the moment. Listen, if you can show me how he was murdered, I'm happy to take the best current thesis off the table. Alright? I can show you, yes. But I'd need a submersible. Excuse me? Like, a submarine? Only a small, leisurely one.
Here's a pamphlet. I picked it up in Inverness. Sorry, a private hire submarine, like the ones that people go missing on and die? Do they? Why do you need a submersible? To take your best current thesis off the table, as you said. When could we arrange for that, do you think, Inspector Barl? I mean, not until at least Monday, but at considerable cost, I might add. Lovely.
Gives us time to establish just what Harris was up to, eh? And why, of course, his fellow islanders have turned so thoroughly against him. We can't just magic up some cash for a submersible hire. We'll cover it. If I'm right, you can refund us. Um, Sherlock? Inspector Barle, are you confident enough in your thesis to take my offer? Uh, suppose it can't hurt. Especially if you're paying. Ugh. Ooh.
Good night's sleep? It was okay. You? It's windy on this island, isn't it? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I thought the inn was going to get blown into the sea. Cockle. What? Cockle. What is that? It's an edible burrowing marine mollusk and it's pickled. You've been on Wikipedia? Yeah. Wait. Oh, yeah, we have those. Yeah.
I don't like the look of them in Spain and I don't like the look of them here. Ew. Yeah, they look terrible, obviously, but they are good, good stuff. Bellamy's Barnacles, the best. Morning. Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock. Can I talk to you? Not right now. Doing research. Sherlock, a submarine hire from the mainland is £3,000. Ah, lovely. Is that lovely? Er, no.
No, it's not lovely. Why not? Because that's a lot of money. Can I come in on this?
Sorry, excuse me, there's too many cockles. Money aside, this is a submarine you're hiring. Submersible? Yeah, whatever. So you drive it around at the bottom of the sea? That's correct. Yeah, no. No what? No, absolutely not. Why not? Because that is terrifying. It's necessary. Are you telling me that being confined into a tiny steel tube at the bottom of the North Sea doesn't scare you? No. Does it scare you? Well, yeah. Why?
What are you afraid of? Well, death.
Mm-hmm. Sharks? Very unlikely. Sexy murderous sea demons, apparently? Very, very unlikely. It's also 3,000 pounds. I appreciate your concern, but it's really nothing to worry about. I'm reverse-engineering the practices of Arthur A. Allen, the oceanographer. Oh, Arthur A. Allen, the oceanographer. All right, cool, great, yeah, cool. How is that supposed to help us? People that are lost at sea are notoriously difficult to find. Oceans are vast. People are tiny.
That's how things were, until Alan came along and worked with all the things I'm going to work with. Which is? Data. Data. Indeed. I know where Harris was found, at what time and in what vessel. The vessel's weight. I even know when he was wounded, thanks to the pathology report. And therefore, I know when he climbed into his boat. I know the fullness of the moon that night, the strength of the tides. I know the wind speed, the weather.
He wasn't rowing. We know that much as he had dislocated his shoulder. Work backwards from that final location, utilising those data points, put it in the machine, and you'll find where he descended that night. And the machine is...? Me. Great. Now for your task. Yeah, go on. Find out what Harris Stackhurst was up to out here every night. And why the locals were so upset with it. Exactly. Right, sure, will do. Aye aye, Captain.
You sure you don't want a cockle? Look at the size of that one. You're disgusting. Are you talking to me or the cockle?
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or enjoy a locally inspired dish. You could recline in a comfy chair to catch up on your favorite show or order a craft cocktail at the bar. Whatever you're in the mood for, find the detail that moves you with curated touches at the Chase Sapphire Lounge by the club. Chase, make more of what's yours. Learn more at chase.com slash sapphirereserve. Cards issued by JPMorgan Chase Bank and a member FDIC. Subject to credit approval. This is an ad by BetterHelp. What are your self-care non-negotiables?
It's hard to make time for the things that keep you healthy, but being consistent with self-care is like working a muscle. And when life gets crazy, that muscle keeps you strong. Therapy is the ultimate self-care, and BetterHelp makes it easy to get started with affordable online sessions you can do from anywhere. Never skip therapy day with BetterHelp. Visit BetterHelp.com to learn more. That's BetterHelp.com.
Well, we spoke to some people in the pub we're staying at, the Lion's Mane. Sure. And they said to go and see Olaf Staghurst. That's, um... Is that Scottish Gaelic? Icelandic. Right, cool. Very cool. Ice. Cool. Thank you, Olaf. I just... I know I said it on your doorstep, but I just want to... I almost can't believe what you've had to go through with the passing of your son.
I am amazed at your strength, quite frankly, and that you can even sit here and talk to us. And if at any point this is too much, please, please just say. Thank you. I think where the investigation is struggling, Mr. Stackhurst, we can't quite understand what Harris was doing out there every night.
Is that something you would be able to tell us more about? Who says he was out there every night? Sorry? Where does that come from exactly? I, uh... I suppose initially... Maud? Maud Bellamy. Yes. Yeah. Is that a bad thing? She seems very nice. The Bellamys run this island, Dr. Watson. You do know that, don't you? It's a successful business. It's the only business...
It's well over half of the economy of this place. And it's pretty much all the jobs too. What are you getting at? I'm not getting at anything. I'm just offering some local context. There's a feeling, Olaf, that in the weeks leading up to his death, Harris was shunned by the community. And that's not just local gossip. I've got it here.
In Inspector Barle's reports, no longer attended town meetings, stopped going to church, didn't turn up for football, didn't go to the pub. Harris had plenty of interests outside of the pub and football. Like what? He was studying. In what sense? Marine biology. Wow. Okay. He had some idea that he'd get that degree and he'd be posted out here with some grant. He'd never have to leave the island, but he'd be better than some oyster farmer. People...
They don't take too kindly to that kind of thinking. It's complicated out here. No, no, no. We understand that. We just want to get a broader picture of Harris. You can start by getting a broader picture of Maude Bellamy. Why? Because her last two boyfriends are dead, Dr. Watson. What? I'm not saying anymore. Was she with Fitzy McPherson? Olaf, is that what you're saying?
Fitzy that went missing a few months ago. I think I've said enough. Did Harris say something about Bellamy's barnacles? Is that why the island turned on him? You're not bad. Thanks. Was he... Was he whistleblowing, Olaf? It would be unwise for me to say much more. Who punched him? The night he died, who punched him? That's easy. Is it? His best friend, Ian Murdoch. Any reason? You'd have to ask Ian Murdoch.
Olaf, did you turn on your son? I doubted his cause. So did his mother. What was his cause? The sea. The vitality of the sea, always. So what was Haris doing out there each night? He was busy. Yes, but busy doing what? Tell you. Why not? Is... was he hiding something? Did he discover...
Is he guilty of something? I don't... I can't work out what you're saying. The Bellamy's are guilty. Murdoch is guilty. Of what? Of what, Olaf? Balsanna. Mr. Sackhurst? Balsanna, yeah. Balsanna? Did he expand on that? No, no, he...
He left? He left his own house. Yeah, that's right. We repelled him out of his own house, mate. That's just how charming we are. They don't take kindly to tourists. Yeah. Wait, why? What have you been doing? Oh, nothing. I can see you, by the way.
Where are you? That's you on top of the cliff, isn't it? Yeah, yeah, you can see us. In the rock pools, down on the beach. Oh, hello. What, where? Where? I can't see. That little speck in the distance with his trousers rolled up. Oh, yes, hi, hi. Yeah, I can see you, I can see you. Is that...
Wait, is that a children's bucket and a spade? Yeah, as well. It's important I sift carefully through these rock pools. Why is that? Looking for something. Traces of a sea goddess? I have no time for this silliness. OK, well, Sherlock, we're going to see Ian Murdoch now. Local gossip has it, and Olaf kind of confirmed it.
That he was the one that attacked Harris that night on the beach. Excellent, Watson. Albeit they are best friends. Even a best friend isn't immune from a physical assault. Lovely. Definitely keep my wits about me in the flat then. Cheerio. OK, bye. Look at this place. Yeah, yeah, I know. Like another world. You can see why they have all these tales and legends, can't you? And you live in a place that looks like this. Yeah, exactly.
Breathe in that sea air, blow out those cobwebs, eh? We should probably keep heading up the cliff. Yeah, agreed. Off we go. Hello everyone. Currently walking up a cliff. Well, not up a cliff. Walking on top of a cliff that is still quite steep and winding. If we look down over the side you can see a bloody big drop and then the sparkle of the North Sea
lashing at the toes of Mr Cliff here, who is a bloody big bloke. Oh my God. How can you talk and walk like this at the same time? Well, I come from a long line of wafflers. It's natural. It's like breathing. Any sign of the house? Yes, actually. Oh, wait, really? Yeah, I can see it up here now. The footpath evens out a bit and I can see it's just over on the left. It's still near the cliff edge, the...
The garden. The front fence of the place. It's nearly fallen into the sea. Oh, wow. What a way to live. You won't get a mortgage on that, let me tell you. Yeah, because it's unsafe. No insurance. Yeah, that. And the house will be in the sea in 15 to 20 years' time. You can see where the cliffs are coming away. Yeah. Huh. What are you thinking? How old is Ian Murdoch? Same age as Harris. And Fitzy. Yeah, so...
27-ish. And he bought that with no mortgage. Oh. Oh. Yeah. Oh, come on then. Let's go ask some questions. No answer. I never know how long you have to wait between knocks. You come in too quick and you just seem impatient and rude. John? What? Don't look now, but he's in the top window. Are you serious? Yeah.
He's looking at us. Okay, okay. I'm gonna... I'll knock again. We may want to come up with a decent story. Why? Because he's obviously bloody suspicious, isn't he? Thought of anything? No. You? Well, I was busy knocking. Oh, God. Oh, God. He's coming to answer the door. Shit, shit, shit. Hello there. I am... Well, I'm English, as you can tell. Hello. I claim this land for England. No, that's...
That's inappropriate, given the history. We're not colonisers, although she is from Spain. Hola. Hola, señor. What a pair, eh? Although Scotland, not colonised at all, was it? A political union between the two countries. No, so we're Britain, aren't we, both of us? You're as guilty as we are in the colonising game. Anyway, we are... we're tourists...
That's who we are. And we're actually... We need help. You need help? We do, yeah. With what? With my dog. Where's your dog? He's lost at sea. He's lost at sea? He's lost at sea. Yep. Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Yeah, we just... We're asking a few of the locals who may know more than us about how to...
go about searching for him? How would we do that? We're very worried. Well, where'd you lose him? Fullworth Bay, with the rock pools. Oh, those things are deadly. I dare say he's injured himself. You know, dogs will toddle off in solitude after things like that. Yeah, yeah, awful. Well, come in. I can make some calls for you. Fast.
Thank you. Thank you so so much
This place is massive. I know, right? And just him. That's what the local gossip tells me. It's impressive that you retained that knowledge after half a bottle of Lyonna's song. Yeah. What's that now? Oh, yeah, we had some of Lyonna's song last night. Didn't manage to finish a whole bottle, but we gave it a good go, didn't we? We did, yes. And you know the folklore, do you? You tourists tend to know more than myself half the time. Ha ha.
Yes, Leona the Sea Demon. Sea Demoness. Do you believe it? Yes. No. Oh, do you? I mean, I definitely would like to believe it. And maybe in Viking times. Who knows what kind of creatures were transposed into legend. Mm-hmm. How is a sea witch with tentacles any different to, say, a whale or a shark or even a big...
big jellyfish or octopus. Yeah, no, I mean, I guess that's where these stories arise from, right? Get lodged into the hearts of the locals, like the lion, right? Passed down through generations. Do you believe it? I know enough about that sea to not go diving down to the bottom of it. Mm-hmm. Like Fitzy. Excuse me? And Harris. Now, how is it
that two fellas not even known to mainlanders are well known in Spain. So we live together in London? We're investigators. You're damn rude! Hey, hey, okay. You want to help. By lying to me.
stepping into my home and taking advantage of my good nature. You were seen on the beach with Harris that night. Shut up! If you let us help, we can eliminate you as a suspect and... Eliminate me as a suspect? Oh, do me a fucking favour. Ian, this is serious. A man is dead. Aye, and he'd be alive if he'd listen to me that night, eh? You think I do that, do you? You think I go around killing my best friends?
Dragging them into the sea and blaming some ancient creature of the deep? You know, I always thought the islanders were dumb as shite. I didn't know it was everybody down in London, too. You're not going to prove anything by losing your temper. Oh, am I not? No, in fact, it only makes you look worse. Get out. What were you doing there that night? Marion. Get out my house before I throw you out. Maude Bellamy sent us. What? Maude Bellamy, she came to London.
You're lying. I'm not. No, she wouldn't do that. Why? No, she wouldn't do that. Her dad, her brother. No, no, no way. Is she okay? She wants this resolved. She wants to know what happened to Harris. And she, she told us you went down to the bay with him.
Why did the islanders turn on Harris Stackhurst, Ian? Where is Maude? Look, she needs us to figure this thing out. We can only figure it out if you help us. You don't understand. But you can help us too, Ian. What do you do, Ian? And how do you have this big home? Don't. You bought it not long after Fitzy died. I'm telling you to shut up, mate. Did someone pay you off? Stop it! Just stop!
I went to warn Harris, all right? I went to tell him to stay away from the breach, OK? Ian, just calm down. What happened to Harris that night? He got aggressive with me. Cos he knew what I'd done. That I kept quiet and they paid for... I was just towing the line. Everyone does it round here, all right? I...
I just wanted something out of it. Towing the line for what? Get out. Ian, what is going on? Ian, are you guilty? Are the Bellamy's of Balsanna, right? Get out. Get out of my house. I didn't kill Hannes. And I didn't kill Fitzy. It was the Bellamy. Get out.
♪♪
Hello everybody, Tom Holland here, the co-host of The Rest is History with some very, very exciting news. Now to celebrate this year's Olympic Games, which of course are being held in Paris, we thought that we would dive into the story of another period when incredible spectacles were being staged in the French capital to much bloodier effect than anything we will see in the Olympics. And this is the story of the French Revolution.
Over the span of eight episodes running throughout the duration of the Olympics, we'll be looking at the incredible life of Marie Antoinette, the storming of the Bastille, King Louis XVI's attempted escape from Paris with the rest of the royal family, and many more seismic events. So to hear our series on the French Revolution, simply search for The Rest Is History wherever you get your podcasts.
