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Previously on Sherlock and Co. What is it? It's a cardboard box containing around a kilogram of coarse salt and a pair of human ears. You want to do your thing? Right, yes. Lestrade has very kindly sent these on. She sent these to you for your birthday? I suspect for two reasons. First, the case makes very little sense to Scotland Yard. And second, yes, for my birthday. Let us start with the address. Miss S. Cushing, 44 Cross Street, Croydon. Done.
Done with pencil. Looks like the word Croydon has initially been spelt with an R which has been erased and changed to a Y. Handwriting is scrawny. Masculine. But diesel. Two thumb marks, bottom left hand corner tied with tarred string twine. Knot still intact. Clove hitch knot. Interesting. Could you please...
Just tell me what's going on. Miss Cushing, was Mary married? She's married, yes. They live on a canal boat, don't they? Her and her husband. The package was processed at Brentford Post Office, right next to the canal engaging lock. The whiff of diesel on the parcel matches that of Mary's hat. We will track down Jim Browner. Bring him to justice for the murder of his wife Mary, your beloved sister.
We'll find out what he wants with Sarah and why he sent such a gruesome message. Someone has just reported a missing person in Croydon, Jamie Dyer. Same age as Mary and pictured with her on Instagram five years ago. Well, Watson, we've found their ears. Let's go find the rest of them. Okay, we are record... Yeah, hi, mate. No, don't want anything. No, not even yak meat. Why...
Why would I want yak meat? Right, I'm sure it is. Yeah, yeah. No, no, I appreciate you asking if I want anything. Yes, it... Yeah, yeah, it shows selflessness and thinking about others. Sherlock, I'm just in... Yeah, fine, no, fine, I'll have some yak meat. Fine, curry, yes, sounds lovely. Yeah, thank you. Yeah, just recording. The intro for part two. Well, violence, sexual references, swearing. No, that's about it. Yeah.
No, they won't sell swan meat. Yep, that's illegal. Yeah, well, take it up with that. Okay, right, now. Going now. Yep. Bye-bye. Bye. Bye. Okay, stop audio. New file. Take two. Oh, what? Stop audio. No, stop. Ah, stop.
You know, I could get used to this. Glorious, isn't it? Absolutely glorious. Crisp winter's day, soft mist rising from the water, sun shining, birds singing. And look at that beauty. Wow.
Right, that's the Chiswick flyover. Yes, stunning. 110 tonnes of concrete in each pillar, and they say, Watson, some victims of the Cray Twins entombed within them. Completed in 1959, not initially built as a gateway to the M4, but to relieve congestion on the Chiswick roundabout, and boy did it do so, Watson. It was opened and unveiled by Jane Mansfield, of course. What?
The Chiswick Flyover was opened by Jane Mansfield. Wait, how do you know who Jane Mansfield is? Eight years later, Mansfield was dead in an automobile accident in Mississippi and the Chiswick Flyover was declared the most dangerous road in Britain. Funny, these things, eh? Marvel at it, Watson. Marvel at its beauty.
Yeah, the M4 isn't really known for its beauty, Sherlock. And look down there, Watson. Oh, what is that? The industrial and human waste, along with that pigeon carcass, has triggered a thick algal bloom, like a glowing green soup. Oh, God, that... Breathtaking. That is awful. Steer straight, Watson. No, I'm going to avoid the sludge. Thanks. It's an algal bloom. Yeah, whatever. No, get off. Steer. Get off. Let me... No. Steer.
What was that? Crowbar? No, it was not a crowbar. That was our windlass. How are we meant to unwind the lock gates now? It was just an iron stick. Just get off and let me steer. No, I'm in charge. I'm... Ah, my knees. Oi, do you want a cup of tea? How do you intend to do that? What, make a cup of tea? Where's the kettle? There's no electricity on it.
Sorry? There's no electricity. Why not? There's no mains supply. And aside from the battery that operates the bilge pump, there simply isn't the power. Oh. Great. Oh, and if you need to poo, use the sawdust to cover it. There's no flush. Tell you what, if I need to go, mate, I'll run to a cafe or something. So why do you have a bilge? Gift client. Sherlock Holmes speaking. Sarah. Yeah. I'm really sorry.
Don't be sorry, I'm having a fabulous time. What do you know of Jim Browner? He's... Oh, shit, I can't do this! Who is the lover, Miss Cushing? Mary was telling me about what Jim was doing to her, how he was treating her, how he was manipulating their relationship, sleeping with other... Yeah, so I confronted him. I said I was going to break them up, put her in touch with her old boyfriend, Jamie, because I knew that... Would his name be Jamie Dyer by any chance? No.
He's just been reported as a missing person in Croydon. Jesus! Thank you, Sarah. I've heard enough. He lives on an island. He planned to send me the ears because he's not trying to silence me. Yeah, I worked all that out. Bye. What do you call it when you put a large amount of effort into being on your best behaviour socially? Masking. Right, yeah, masking. Wouldn't mind slipping that mask back on every now and again for a bit. Just when we're speaking to people whose lives have completely fallen apart.
I'll try my best. That's all I ask. Just a favour for me. Only when dealing with victims
That's all. That would be Fab. Fabby, Fabby. That was Sarah, wasn't it? Mm-hmm. The woman that was supposed to receive the cardboard box? Indeed. But why... OK, we're nearly there. Right, and where are we? Not far. Not far from where? From the Fox Inn at Hanwell. OK. Why are we going to the Fox Inn at Hanwell? It's a popular pub for the narrowboat community, and we're going to be asking some questions of its patrons.
So you can stop asking questions of me? Well, it's better than standing in diesel fumes I suppose. Excuse me sir! What are you doing? Conversing with the Waterfolk. Waterfolk? It's a middle-aged bloke on his iPad. Hiya there gents, you alright? Ship shape sir. And your good self? Yeah alright, what you got there? You're a 55 footer. Indeed. And I see you're atop a 40 foot Dutch barge. Is it a Bramston? Yeah, I think so. Splendid vessel. Goodness sake. Do you have a spare windlass?
My idiotic first mate knocked ours overboard. Er, I don't mate, sorry. Bugger. Not to worry. Where are you guys headed? To the Fox at Hanwell. Ah yeah, good place to stop before the locks, yeah. We're meeting friends of ours actually, the Browners, Jim and Mary. Yeah, I know them, yeah. You do? I do, yeah. Have fun, yeah? Give them our best. Good scene for that, at the Fox, sort of thing. How do you know them? They're good fun, they're good fun.
But Jim might want a girl and all, not just you two. Alright? See you then. See ya. That was odd. Yeah, that was. "Jim might want a girl." What does that mean? And good scene for what at the Fox? And why was that gentleman's wedding ring on the wrong hand? What? His wedding ring was on his right hand. What an idiot. Oh God. What? Oh no. Weird fellow. Who grows Cortadaria salawana this time of year? Wait, what is that? Pampas grass.
I think we should increase to five miles an hour. Sherlock, right, listen... All right, fine, we'll stay at 4.5, but it's getting late. Sherlock. What? I think Jim and Mary might be swingers. Swingers? Swingers. I don't follow. They are involved with other couples. Oh, I don't follow. You know, they sleep with other people, but willingly. How do you know this? Well...
The swinging community use a number of codes and gestures, secret messages and all sorts of things to, you know, identify others that might want to, yeah, get stuck in. Codes? Gestures? Secret messages?
Sounds fantastic. No, it's not. Pampas grass, the wedding ring on the wrong hand, the fact his face lit up when we mentioned Jim and Mary, bring a girl and all that. In that case, Watson, we must embed ourselves into the community and find Jim Browner.
It's not that straightforward, is it? Watson, it took me many years to understand neurotypical speaking patterns, conversational implicature, cooperative principle, the Gricean maxims, natural language and logical formalism. You know the ones.
What the hell are you talking about? Gricean maxims. Rational concepts observed by people who follow the cooperative principle in pursuit of effective communication. Right, I'm lost here, babe. If I can crack the ludicrous codes of society, then I can crack the codes of the swingers. The moment we shy away from challenges like this, Watson, is the moment our entire venture begins to collapse into slippery soap. Right, OK. So, see, there is the problem. What?
What? It's slippery slope, not slippery soap. No it isn't. Yes it is. Soap is slippery. I know soap is slippery but the phrase is "it's a slippery slope". Ah, right. Swingers are going to use a lot of figurative language, a lot of gesture, insinuation, innuendo. Sounds dreadful. Exactly. Is there an app that translates this sort of language yet? No. But there probably is a forum for swingers, isn't there? Er... ah!
Ah, yeah. Here we go. Ah, Jesus, why don't they blur that out? Um, oh, right. Yeah, er, well, I think this could help. He's right. The fox at handwell seems to be a bit of a thing for them. All hands on deck, Watson. Pabba hoi. Oh, right. We're there. Er, what do you want me to do? As I approach the towpath, head to the bow, lower the fender, hold the fiddle until we reach the dolly.
Sorry, what? You heard me, Watson. How about I steer and you do all the stuff you just said? Righto. You are aware we have no thrusters? Thrusters? Sorry, I didn't realise we were in outer space. This is very serious, Watson. We're not hurtling towards an asteroid belt. We're in Hanwell, going three miles an hour. Get on with it. Indeed. Approach with caution. Cut your speed around two feet towards impact, then reverse to counter the drift. Yeah, yeah. Nice and easy, Watson.
Steady now. Cutting the engine and now reverse. Terrific, Watson. Well, maybe we should, you know, move out of Baker Street, save on rent, move into this old girl. Yes, quite an excellent idea, Watson. Give me a hand here. I need to pump out the sewage. Oh, Jesus, that stinks.
Yeah, hiya mate. We'll have two pints of Guinness, please. Oh, and maybe a Malbec, please. Just a regular glass. I'm a living in a box. I'm a living in a cardboard box. I'm a living in a box. I'm a living in a cardboard box. Sorry about that. I forgot that I was a professional podcaster for a second. Sorry, award-winning podcaster.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Did I not mention? That's right, my friends. Thank you to Podbible for the award. And thank you to those who voted. Yeah, you know, trying not to be too smug about it. So, award-winning but magnanimous Watson. Yeah, yeah. But here and now, here we are, the Fox at Hanwell. Hanwell being West London, very far west. One on from Ealing. Yeah, yeah.
Nice. Big pub. Dark corners for dark deeds, as the creepy homewrecker girl from Love Actually says. Shoutouts. Shoutouts. Right, yes. I meant to do shoutouts earlier, but I didn't. So quick ones at random, my lovely listeners. Andrew Hoover, thank you for recommending noise-cancelling headphones for Sherlock. I will let him know.
Uh, Kolotta from Germany. Thanks a lot to Kolotta. Uh, yeah. To Lexi and Isabella in Hanmer Springs, New Zealand. To Eddie. Uh, to Alex from down the road. Oh, and from Alex down the road to Alexandria from Kentucky. Very much not down the road. Jason Painter. That's either his surname or his profession.
Or both, actually. Yeah, who knows? Maybe both. Mallory from Ohio. Oh, hi. Oh. Hi. Yeah, Ariane and her sister Sophie from Baden-Baden in Germany. Baden-Baden, of course, being the location of England's training camp for the 2006 World Cup. So...
Sven, you're at Ericsson and all that. Shout out to Mox and Dot. Ooh, drinks are ready. OK, let the adventure continue. There we go. Thank you, Watson. I... What? Thirsty? No, so I have a plan and in order to pull it off I kind of need some additional help. From who? Hola.
Hi! I got you... I don't know if this is sexist or Spanish-ist, but I just assumed you'd want red wine, so I got you a Malbec. Thank you. Yeah, there you go. No, that's perfect. Cheers. Cheers? Cheers. Yes. Cheers. So, pork drinks. This is so unexpected, especially in Hanwell. Yeah, I just thought it's such a lovely day, we're doing so well. Ah, I see.
You wish to present Mrs Hudson as your sexual partner and trade her off with other men in an effort to find the murderer. Excellent, Watson. What? Er, right, yeah, so, um... Just a quick bit of business before work. Drinks. There's a tissue. Thanks. So, we're hunting down the person that cut off and posted the ears. And we believe it's a man called Jim Browner who killed his wife and lover and sent the ears to his wife's sister.
In Croydon? No, different sister. But that sister in Croydon received the ears by mistake because the sister that was supposed to receive them used to live there with the sister that received them. You look confused, Mrs Hudson. Are you making this clear for the listeners? Yeah, of course I am. Are you? Because I will review this episode and if it doesn't make sense, it can't go out.
It makes sense, doesn't it, Sherlock? Perfect sense, Doctor. Everything makes sense to him. You'd be surprised. Look, right now we need to find a murderer. We know he lives on a barge. Narrowboat. Narrowboat. Because of the knot and the diesel, right? We know he was a swinger, based on a weird interaction we just had. He and his wife Mary were, but it looks like she tried to escape from it. Now she's dead. And her lover is as well.
And that other sister, Sarah, has basically confirmed it to us, but she's completely petrified of the guy now, especially after that threat. And what about the Croydon situation? Susan was just unfortunate enough to receive the package. We've got confirmation that Mary was involved with a Jamie Dyer from Croydon, who's been reported missing. He and Mary were once an item. We have to find Jim Browner, OK? We have to, Mariana, we have to. OK, OK. What... what do we need to do?
So I said, honey, those aren't bottle stoppers. Not my husband, honestly. Oh, what are we like, eh? What are we like? Can I get either of you another drink? No, no, no, don't worry. We're circling, we're mingling. But it was great to meet you both. Of course, you too. We'll both be here tonight. Yeah, yeah, if we want to do that thing you described. Yeah, of course. Do you...
Do you happen to know if Jim Browner is around at all? Oh, Jim and Mary, yeah. But no, they're not in here. They're just up by 96. 96, yeah. Great. Cool. Um, what is 96? Ha ha ha.
My wife, eh? Not a fan of the canal life then, are we? She's just not bloody interested, mate. No matter how hard I try. Go on, tell her what 96 is. No problem. Lock 96. Second one along in this flight. I'm so silly. Of course. See? Thanks, guys. Speak soon, hopefully. Night, guys. Nighty-night.
90 night. Remind me never to marry you. Hey, that was me playing an obnoxious husband. Mmm, sure. I was in character. Well, yeah, we've got him. Lock 96. We should speak to the police. Absolutely not. He's a murderer. It's pitch black out there. You've had, like, four pints of Guinness? And what time even is it? It's time to catch a murderer. Ooh, hoo-hoo-hoo. Good line. MUSIC PLAYS
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Sherlock and I are just climbing aboard Jim Browner's boat as delicately as we can. Ah, yeah, I can see light on in there. And there's a TV. Hey, he's got electricity. Yes, well, he's got solar panels and batteries. Why doesn't your boat have that? If you love his boat so much, then I'll leave you here. What are you doing? Taking a closer look. We're currently on the back of the boat. Sherlock has his torchlight on and is looking for blood.
Everywhere. Look! Jesus Christ! Splatters on here and on this door into the boat and the tiller. Is that a trapdoor? It's a hatch to the engine sump. The bilge is where most water will drain off and... Good God. What is it? Mr. Browner needs a new pump, I think. Why? Because right now he has a six-inch puddle consisting of water
diesel and lots of blood. Come down here, look. Oh my God! Mary and her partner were murdered here on this deck at the stern of the boat with this. Hey, a windlass! Eesh, a very bloody windlass. After the murder, while he planned his next move, their bodies drained blood into the engine sump. No, wait. He stored them in there. Under that hatch? With the engine?
Indeed. Hence the amount of blood. Hence the broken pump. Hence, I suspect, a clean, blood-free interior where Mr. Browner dwells. So under the floor of the boat, there is basically a cavity, a kind of basement under the waterline. It's called the bilge, right, Sherlock? Correct. And at the back, where the engine is, the bilge goes pretty deep, I guess, so you can climb in and fix it or whatever, but
Yeah, right now this boat is sloshing around with litres and litres of blood in its bilge. So where are the bodies? The ballast. What? The what? Shh! Go around the front. Get yourself invited in. Ah, right, yeah. Easy peasy. Can I just climb aboard, please, Mr Murderer? Do it, Watson, now. Don't rush me when I'm near the water. Go, do it. It's my birthday. What, are you 12? Watson. Fine, fine. Just, all right, whatever. I'll bloody do it. Ah, OK. OK, just keep...
Hey, Jim. Jim Browner. Can I ask what exactly you're doing? Yeah, we were... My wife and I, that is. She's shy. She sent me to scout ahead, as it were. Yeah, anyway, we were just at the Fox, you know, trying to make a few connections. Sorry, I'm not very good at winking. Basically... Sure.
Yeah, I'll get you. Yeah. We heard a bit about you and wondered, yeah, maybe if I could have a chat with you first and, you know, see if you're like, I don't know, what we're looking for in our relationship. Let's have a chat. Okay. Right. Yeah. Won't take long. Just want to dig the vibe, you know. Oh, hey. Nice. Nice little setup you've got here.
Take a seat. There's the couch. Just a little one, I'm afraid. Ooh, a couchette. Sorry? No, nothing. It's just such a little couch. Yeah, it's intimate, I find. Yeah, yeah, good point. Beer? Tea? Or... No, honestly, no, it's fine. I won't take up much of your time, honest. Wash your light, then. Hmm?
Your wife? Oh, she's great, really. A world-class wife. Worldy. 10 out of 10. Would recommend to a friend. Or you, in this instance. I'll be honest, I didn't know my reputation was so strong that I'd come up in conversation at the Fox. That's good to know. Can't say I've had many visitors come right onto my boat. What was... What was what? That noise.
Didn't hear anything. So, yeah, the fox, that's a pretty hip happening place, right? For us, for our sort, our gang. Yeah, always has been. No, yeah, I know. And the canal life just lends itself so well to it, you know.
No nosy neighbours, no fixed address if anyone gets too attached or too weird about the whole thing. Jesus! But that's exactly what happened, was it not Mr Browner? Hey, hey, hey, hey, easy now, easy now. Get off me! Don't try it mate, alright? What do you want? Nothing is still, look. Well actually I wouldn't mind this. We dropped our windlass in the canal earlier. Take it, yeah, take it. Have you got a newer one? This one seems to be covered in blood.
Please, please, just... Why is that, Mr. Browner? There's a nasty splatter or two on your deck too. In fact, your bilge pump has blown after working overtime. There seems to be gallons and gallons of blood in your engine sump. You're hurting me. Mr. Browner, I have a hypothesis that I'd like to throw at you. Now, no pressure, but it is my birthday and I would really, really like to be correct.
Not long ago, you married a Miss Mary Cushing, sister of Sarah and Susan Cushing. You both had a fondness for sexual exploration, but it had to be on your terms. The overbearing man calling the shots on the sexual undertakings of the relationship. No surprise there. You and Mary embarked on your swinging endeavors and Mary, understandably, began to feel the arrangement was a little one-sided.
i suspect she told her sister sarah her concerns in a moment of vulnerability in hope for some helpful words of advice perhaps a shoulder to cry on what she got instead was an elaborate plan to break you apart sarah told you that the marriage to her sister mary was over and she would make it so by any means one of those means was reuniting mary with jamie dyer an old flame
You found out and couldn't cope with her seeking sexual satisfaction without you. So you made a plan of your own. You fooled Mary into thinking you wanted to include Jamie into the relationship and lured them onto this boat. When they began their romantic evening together on the deck, you bludgeoned them to death with this windlass. Cut off their ears with that marine knife and sent them to Sarah to traumatise her into silence. Yet.
You weren't completely in the loop regarding Sarah's residence at the time. As well as being a terrible husband, you were also a terrible brother-in-law, not once joining Mary on her visits to her sisters, not even knowing how to spell where they lived. Croydon. And even forgetting the fact that there are two S Cushings. You addressed the parcel and it found Miss S Cushing, but not Sarah, who has long since vacated, but Susan.
Your postal threat was inadvertently exposed to the police and, unfortunately for you, me. Now, with the blood, the ears, the missing people and the fact that your boat is listing to the right-hand side, I'd say that you have removed some ballast. In this instance, heavy slabs of concrete. And tied them to the bodies of Mary and Jamie and put them somewhere in London's canal system. Quite the mess, Mr. Browner. So much so, my companion here will struggle to document it.
Quite the tricky tale. Tangled in knots. But when you know how a knot has been formed, you know how to break it apart. All you have to do to untangle is twist and twist and pull until something that seemed so rigid and resistant eventually... Islington Tunnel. They're in the Islington Tunnel. At the bottom. Oh!
Hello, this is Mariana Mechazurra. I am in the Islington Tunnel with the police. Sherlock and John are on their way from Hanwell or maybe Ealing, I'm not sure. So, Islington Tunnel is a... It's like, I don't know, nearly a kilometre long, maybe? It's a canal tunnel. Like a tunnel, but not for buses or trains, but yeah, for boats.
I'm rambling a bit, sorry. It's kind of terrifying in here, except for the police touches. It is so dark and it feels super enclosed. I can hear some traffic overhead. - Yeah, both right, both right. - Oh my God, okay, okay, okay. - Two bodies. Mary and Jamie.
Preparing for mission launch. Preparing for mission launch. Preparing for mission launch. Oh, oh, oh. Maybe. Something like The Adventure of the Dark Water. It's a bit dramatic, isn't it? It has to be dramatic, otherwise people don't listen. Hey, people listen. You know, they're in it for... For Sherlock. For me and Sherlock, thank you. But, yeah. But also, you know, the drama. So...
What about the adventure of the three sisters? It's okay. Well, it's better than the cardboard box. Yes, which is why you're going to change the name before you upload. No, yeah, I know. Ah, here he is. Right. What is this place? Prepare to embark. Okay, birthday boy. Looks like we're ready. Ready for what? Oh, you will love it. It's called an escape room. Mm-hmm. What's the concept? We'll come through and see. Shh. Shh. Shh.
Space Marines, the Zeelons are attacking. You must escape on the last solar fleet. Self-destruct has been activated. Oh, hey. Wow. This is so cool. Look, Sherlock. Ooh, alien attack imminent. We've got one hour. Ooh, right. Okay, so there's a code we need to break there. Um...
So, we are, oh, astronauts on an alien planet and we need to find a way to open this hatch to return. Mission complete. Mission complete. Mission complete. Mission complete. Mission complete. Hey everybody, you know the drill, get in touch at DocJWatsonMD on Twitter.
Give us a follow, subscribe and, you know, give five stars and all that. So get your questions in and yeah, you'll hear from me next time. But thanks for listening to the adventure of the... Oh, God. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. God, I've uploaded it with the cardboard box title. Oh, bugger. Right, I'm going to see if I can get this taken down. I'll re-upload. I need to contact Goalhanger. How do I contact Goalhanger? I could tweet Gary Lineker, but that's a bit weird, isn't it?
Oi! Ah! Ah, why won't this stop recording? Oh, come on now, for heaven's sake! Just... Oh, bloody stop! MUSIC PLAYS
