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Booyah, homies! J-Dog here! No, no, can't use that. J-Dog, what on earth? Hello, listeners. Dr. John Watson, your ENT physician. That's a joke. I'm not actually an ear, nose and throat doctor. I just meant, like, I'm a doctor and I'm in your ears. So, yeah, not in your nose, obviously, or your throat, but...
Yeah, Ear Doctor was the joke I was kind of... Anyway, it's new adventure time. The Golden Pantsnay. Spelt Pinsnay's, but pronounced Pantsnay. A bit of the old Francais for you. For those of you who are, well, normal and don't know what a Pantsnay is, it's a pair of glasses without the arms. You know, so like the little ones that sit on your nose. Um.
Yeah. So, I'm sad to say that this adventure is regarding a murder. Yeah, so there will be some distressing scenes, depictions of violence, and... Yeah. Minimal swearing in this one. A teeny-weeny bit of religious intolerance. Mocking scepticism at worst, I promise. And, um...
Yeah, well, enjoy. Well, no, don't enjoy. It is a murder. Just, yeah, you know, just listen to it. OK, cheers. Bye. Pint the Guinness, please, mate. Hi there. Was going to upload the episode today, The Golden Pantsnay, but thought I should just flag that this will be a three-parter. I know, I know, I know, I know. I'm not doing that Netflix thing where I just drag a story out
unnecessarily. I tried to find a place to cut it for it to have been two, but the episode would have been like, you know, 40 minutes each. And yeah, attention spans are a troublesome beast. So there you go. And yeah, it begins with the impending visit of my mum when Sherlock and I were Christmas shopping. Well, he wasn't. I was. So yeah, three-parter. Apologies. Thank you.
But, you know what they say, good things come to those who wait. Cheers. Seriously, why aren't they sponsoring this show? That was absolutely perfect. No, Watson, please, I can't. Come on. Not another shot. Christmas shopping, mate. This is it. Regent Street. Piccadilly. Yeah, no, but this, you know, it's kind of Regent Street. But it's Piccadilly. Yeah, all right. Oh, look at that.
Big sparkly Christmas presents to spend over the street. That's cool, isn't it? Those decorations won't last. Won't last what? The storm tonight. Yeah, it is a bit on the humid side, isn't it? Those plastic reindeer will be massacred. Every last one of them. Well, let's take that negative outlook and turn it upside down with this place. Ta-da! Too busy. Bye-bye. Look, look, look. This is called Fortnum and Mason.
I know what it is Watson. This is posh central. Yeah, this is like Waitrose on steroids, you know, organic artisan steroids from the Cotswolds. But it's, you know, look, there they are. Going to get my mum a Christmas hamper for when she gets here. Look at that. Oh, I mean, look, they're a little bit on the expensive side, but they are so worth it, you know, because they have all of the, Jesus Christ, 125 quid. We're leaving. Yeah, we're leaving.
My name is Dr John Watson, once of the British Army Northumberland Fusilier Regiment, now a true crime podcaster based in central London. I don't have much experience in criminology, so this is mostly a record of how I met possibly the most brilliant and bizarre person I have ever and will ever know. Join me as I document the adventures of
of Sherlock Holmes. John, can you just re-read this, please? Sure, sure. What's this for? Oh, for the company's bank account. Right, yeah, yeah. Um...
I think probably just have a separate account if we're saying their expenses. No? No, no, I can sort that. We don't need... Oh, hold on. Sherlock and Co., Marina speaking. Uh-huh, yes. Uh, Adelton. Right. It was an accident. What? A tragic accident, nothing more. Um, Mr. Holmes said it was an accident. Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.
Hm.
Would be nice if we had actually opened it to begin with. Come on, it's easy peasy. Easy peasy. It's a phrase. Yeah, I know. I'm also now using lovely and jubbly. Yeah, well, it's lovely jubbly, not lovely and jubbly. And how is the Adalton tragedy easy peasy? Solvable from the 400-word article I read this morning. Right. Okay.
There you go, Watson. All done. What? What are you doing with my medical license? Nothing now. I've finished. Finished what? The transaction. Oxymorphone. Two months worth. You're gonna get me struck off! No, I'm not. Yes, you are. You cannot use my medical license to procure heroin. It's not heroin. It's oxymorphone. Jesus Christ. Oh, God, I've got to head out and meet my mum. But listen, okay, this is unacceptable. Watson, you're disturbing Mrs Hudson.
Sherlock, can we talk about this? My name is... That was quick. ...Parsu for Miss Mariana Amachizurra. Mariana Amachizurra. Yes, it is. No, sorry, nobody of that name resides here. Bye-bye. No, no, wait. Sherlock. Back at London Paddington, my friends. Just waiting for my mum, Carol Watson, the one and only. I mean, there's probably loads of them, isn't there?
very common name. Anyway, she's in Scotland this Christmas with friends, I think. Or Christmas Carol. So, yeah, going to do some gift exchanging and... Ah, here she is. Oh, my darling! Hi, Mum.
Oh, what did those naughty Russians do to you? Nothing, Mum. We've done this. I've seen you twice since... Oh, look at you. It's so humid. Isn't it humid? Yeah, really muggy. Yeah, yeah. There's a storm on the way. You can tell. Yes, so I've heard. We need it.
We need the storm, John. It shouldn't be this humid in December. It's still November, Mum. It's too warm. The air's too close. Oh, look at you. So, good journey, then. It's a bit shorter than that trip to Scotland you got coming up. Oh, I'll be in the car for that. Car? Who's driving you? Charlie. I... Who's... Charlie? That's who I'm going to Scotland with. Right. Like... Yeah, Charlie. Is she...
He... a friend. Your generation are obsessed with pronouns, John. Obsessed. No, I'm not obsessed with pronouns. I just want to know if... No, actually, no, I don't want to know. Good journey. Oh, fantastic. I had my headphones on the whole time. It was lovely. Ah, great, great. Have you listened yet? Listened?
to the show, to my podcast. What's that? My microphone for the podcast. Oh, I thought it was a book. No, it's a podcast. I put it in the WhatsApp to you. Oh, sorry, love. No, I was listening to... All right, let me take your bag. We'll go this way because it's quicker for the bacon. Thank you, love. Oh, look at you, John the Londoner. Are the army looking after you? No, again, we've done this. Oh, why? Because I'm not in the army, mother.
Why not? You're in Ukraine. Yes, but the British Army weren't. So you quit? It's not like I quit. I chose a humanitarian cause that they disagree with me choosing. Oh, did they sack you? I mean, well, yeah, they did, yeah. Oh, no. Well, they'll take you back.
I don't want to go back. Why not? Because I make my podcast now and, you know, I run a company, actually. You should become a GP, you know. There's hardly any GPs these days. And you can do it all on Zoom. I had to show my GP my mole on Zoom. In fact, I had to show the reception staff first. Can you believe that? I said, Angela, I'm not going to get my bum out to a receptionist. It'll be all over the internet before you know it. Right, yeah. My company...
Do you know what? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.
So what were you listening to on the train? Fifty Shades Freed, it's called. It's a sequel. Sorry, what? Fifty Shades Freed. It's about this young couple... No, no, I know what it's about, Mum. Oh, it's brilliant, isn't it? No, it isn't. They're so in love. I feel so, so sorry for him, you know. He's got ever so many issues in the bedroom. Mum! It's so raunchy, John. He's always strutting around with his bits out. Right, OK, turning this off. Turning this off now. Jesus Christ.
OK, and here we are. This is the flat. Oh, it's lovely. Who was that nice girl? That's Mariana. She's nice, isn't she, John? Yeah, she's nice, yeah. Beautiful hair. It's, yep, yep, lovely hair. Yep, yep, it's... Oh, there's Archie boy. Oh, hello, you. Oh, Archie.
He's getting fat. Why is he getting fat? He's not getting fat. What does that girl do? The one with the nice hair? She works in our office downstairs. She runs the business. So, anyway, this is the lounge. You can have my bedroom just through there. Mrs Watson! Right, so this guy is... I've heard so much about you. Your wit and charm have been so highly touted by your exceptional son.
He didn't, however, mention your glowing beauty. What a careless omission, Doctor. What? Oh, you're a charmer. Isn't he a charmer, John? Not at all, actually. Lovely to meet you. You're Sherlock. That I am, Mrs Watson. I'm the man charged with looking after this fine fellow. You look after me? Oh, it's quite a task, believe me. I did it for 34 years. 18 years, then I left. And what wonderful work you have done.
Mrs Watson, I have made the bed in there. Anything you need, please, just let me know. Oh, thank you, Sherlock, darling. I'm just going to use the toilet quickly. Absolutely. Lovely and jubbly. It's just in there. Goodness, that was exhausting. Yeah, I bet it was. And what do you mean you made the bed? I made the bed, mate. MUSIC
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He's snoring. He's a bulldog, Sherlock. Yes, and? They snore. Do they do anything else? I'm sorry about the snoring, Sherlock, mate. I'm just having a doze. Sorry about the farts and all. What are you doing? Just doing an archy, little archy voice. That's how he talks. How are the listening figures for the podcast? Very good, thanks. Surprising. Are you going to go to bed?
Anytime soon, mate. No. Why? Because it's 11. Then go to bed. The couch is my bed tonight, so now you have to listen to me do my shout-outs. Oh, well, Mum's asleep, so my reasonable volume out. Yeah. Adri Pereira Nunes sends her thanks for helping her country in the Thorbridge case. Sherlock?
OK, no probs, Adri. Shout out to her and her friend, Zera. Maren Paulson. Kaiser, the London Hackney carriage driver. Be lucky, says Kaiser, as they say in the cabbies trade. Oh, God. Sorry at my attempt at this name. August Neuschwander. Hello. Grave Raven asks, how is Archie getting along with Sherlock? Erm...
Yeah, they're cordial. They're on speaking terms. Well, you know, the noise term. Also, Grave Raven asks, what do I do if I have a painful lump under my armpit? Had that once myself. It was an ingrown hair. But, you know, do check with your doctor, please, Grave Raven.
Heather from Turkey, Wengel from Sweden, Alphonse from Wisconsin and their horse, the 20-year-old Chili Bean. Good for you, Chili Bean, who is also a fan of the show, so that's good. Right, that's horses done. Now ducks. Apologies to the duck community. Krona has pointed out on X following Noble Bachelor, I shouldn't have been feeding them bread.
Waterfowl should not eat material that soaks like bread as it muddies their gizzards. So there you go. Corn or peas are a friendly substitute. So sorry, um...
Ducks. Hala hala to Butler. Hi, Amy in Seattle. Hi, Raphael Del Rey. Hey, Micah and Crystal from Los Angeles. Lainey, Denise, Pete, Ray, Chris. Coogan Cardella. Oh, what a name. Coogan Cardella. Kevin, Sophia, Christopher in Jakarta. Tony, Shiroki in Germany. I missed you out last week. Sorry. And Simon Ashby. Was that a knock? I think so.
It could just be. Is that a heroin delivery service? It's not heroin, it's oxymorphone. Would a delivery driver be so persistent, Watson? No. It's the police. The police? Oh, Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ, I knew it. I bloody knew it. You and your bloody heroin, mate. Oxymorphone. Oh.
That's it. I'm done for. Okay, I should... I'll go speak to... To your lawyer? No, my mum. Is she a lawyer? No, she's a midwife. Are you having contractions? No, but I am having a panic attack, though. So why are we speaking to your mum? Because I'm scared. Yeah? And I want to break the news to her that I'm going to be arrested and have my medical licence taken away before she watches me get dragged into a police car. Mrs Hudson has led him into the office. Ah, damn it, Mariana. Mariana!
It's a job. Wait, what? The squad car. It's not a Metropolitan Police vehicle. It's come from another constabulary. There's been a murder. What? Watson, chop chop. Yes, just grabbing the mic. Hey, be a good boy, Archie. Okay, bye mate. Bye bye. Bye. Bye bye.
Here they are. Sherlock, Dr. John Watson. This is Officer Hopkins. I'm a PCSO, actually. A community support officer? Yeah, that's right. Oh. Is this going to be about a parking ticket or something? We don't own a vehicle. Bugger. I must be tired. My mind caught the scent of a murder. We all make mistakes. Even I. I'm off to bed. Night night. A boy. A man. I mean, murdered.
19 years old. Willoughby Smith. He's been found dead at Yoxley Old Place, Mr Holmes. It's very complicated and I shouldn't have raced over here, but I did because I don't want them to cover it up because I know they will. Who to cover it up? The police? No. The saviours of God. Tell me everything. Would you...
Like a cup of tea? Oh, I can make it, Marianna, it's no problem. I'm fine. I don't think we can waste any more time. Go. Call me if you need anything, John. Will do. Hopkins, I suggest you fire up the siren. Get us to Chatham as quick as possible. It's not really allowed because... How long until, what's it called, the Oxley Old Place? This time of night? Probably doing about 55 minutes. Great. So ETA about midnight? Yeah. My shift ends at 5am. That's when the rest of the force will be back.
We, or you, just need to work out everything you can in that time. Watson, set an alarm for 4:55 AM. Er, yep, just... Okay, what sort of alarm sound do you want? Er, what about this one? It's a bit too happy, isn't it? Er, more like this. No, that's rubbish. Er, this one. Just, please. Yes, done, yep, done, set. Tell me about Yoxley Old Place.
It's, um... Well, it was a stately home. About ten years ago, a, uh... I don't know what you call him, really. Evangelical preacher, I suppose. Sebastian Coram moved to the area from London. Everyone calls him Elder Coram, whether you're a believer or not. Anyway, he buys up York's the old place and converts all the grounds to essentially houses. Faith would be a kind word. Cult would be more accurate. These are the saviours of God. Yeah, yeah.
They believe that Coram is enshrined with some sort of authority from God. Heaven has been invaded by the forces of hell, apparently. Oh, yeah? Since when? 2011, I think it was. Right. OK. Must have missed that on the news. Yeah. So, Coram and his believers see themselves as the...
Yeah, the saviours of God. They practice a very strict way of life, closed off from the outside world, no girls, no temptation, no society. Why? Well, because they are recruits for the armies of heaven, I suppose. Can't get into heaven unless... You do what Elder Coram says. Something like that. But anyway, it's in my village, Holton Green. It's a big village, near enough of town. Seven miles outside of Chatham. Yoxley Old Place probably has about...
80 worshippers or saviours as they call themselves. Wow. Yeah, lots of boys. Some young lads, some older. Elder Coram, much, much older than most. No women? No women, that's right. Anyway, as you can imagine, since they moved into the area, the locals haven't taken too kindly to them. They see Coram's influence on some of the vulnerable young'uns as a poison. Willoughby Smith is a good example.
Our victim? Yeah, it's... it's hard. He was a friend from school. I know his mum and dad really well and... yeah, when he got converted it was... it was hard, obviously, but now this... I just... I hate them so... I just... And your concern is that the saviours of God will cover up this murder? I'm not certain of it, no. But it's... it's a risk I won't bloody take. How do you know of it then?
This murder? I was there at the station when the call came through. A couple of officers went to attend but... But what? Well, one of them was a saviour once. I mean, he still could be. See, this is what Coram does. He reaches into every community centre, every friendship group, public service, anything you can imagine. School boards, sports teams, local shops. I mean, they're in my parents' book club. Book club? Jesus Christ, they banned The Great Gatsby last week.
Why? Oh, the subject matter. Reading material not suitable for the recruits of the heavenly forces, I guess. Yeah, well, my mum's reading Fifty Shades of Grey, mate. I'll have a mind to ban that, to be honest. Well, that's nice, isn't it? A big secluded manor house at midnight in a storm. Great, what's next? Just be careful of the graveyard at the front. Oh, for God's sake. We won't take the main entrance. Tell me of the murder.
From what I know about it, shortly after the call from the residents. Who made it? Xavier Tulton. Is he from Halton Green? Yeah, I see his mum quite a lot. Anyway, two officers went there. I stayed at the station. Then about 45 minutes later, a forensics officer arrived at the front desk from London and I was asked to drive him to the location. Why don't you have any available SOCOs? What's a SOCO? Scene of Crime Officer.
Forensics, basically. Yeah, we do have one, but she wasn't allowed. Oh. Why? Because she's a she. I see. So the Saviors put a stop to her being on the premises. And that was my first inclination that poor Willoughby wasn't going to get the justice he deserved. Anyway, I made it to the crime scene and, yeah, he, yeah, stabbed in the neck in Elder Coram's bedroom. Jesus. Elder Coram's bedroom?
Well, that's pretty damning. It's an open and shut case, no? Not quite. Coram is ill. Very ill. He can't really get out of bed. With what? Something with his lungs. Cancer? No, no, it's a disease. It's got the word disease in it. Pulmonary? COPD? Yeah, that's it. COPD. What is it?
Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Must have been a heavy smoker. Or just very unlucky. Sounds like Coram is late stage. Yeah. So he's bed bound. Almost entirely. But for a wheelchair, every now and again. He's a witness. Conveniently for him. Coram says that Willoughby said, as he was dying, Elder Coram, it was she. Elder Coram, it was she. Yep. Very convenient, if you ask me.
You believe Coram is protecting his flock? Well, if it's a she, then it can't be any of them lot, can it? Right. Sherlock, shall we? Wait. There's... Coram is planning something with all the saviours. Planning what? Human sacrifice. Wow. The plot thickens. It certainly does. Lovely and indeed jubbly.
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