cover of episode 46 - The Three Students - Part Two

46 - The Three Students - Part Two

2024/8/13
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Sherlock & Co.

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Sherlock Holmes is tasked with speaking at Oxford University but discovers a leaked assessment, prompting an investigation into the students involved.

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Previously on Sherlock and Co. So, Sherlock Holmes. This guy here. Watson, please. He's been asked to speak at Oxford University. Oh, no way! To criminology undergrads. Sherlock, that is so cool. It is not cool. I think it's a nice way to give back to the next generation of crime solvers, personally. John, that is such a good way of looking at it. He is merely regurgitating the clichéd arguments of the Met. Oh, so the Met want this. I'm not doing it. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

I've got it.

I can write your speech. You've got it? No, that's not it. Thank you, Mrs Hudson. Here we are. Oxford, baby. Wow, this brings back memories. You didn't go to Oxford. No, but, like, university. You know, I mean, it's got that uni energy to the whole place. Hello, Professor. How are you doing? Somewhat better than I deserve, I must say. Now... Professor Soames? Just down this way and we'll fill you in, OK? Professor Soames! The speech doesn't have to be any more than 45 minutes, just so you know. Have you been robbed?

In criminology here at the law faculty, we evaluate a student using a number of methods. We have presentations, we have study notes, we have dissertations. We do not have exams, okay? But what we do have are controlled assessments. You no longer wish to use it? Correct, yeah. The information has been leaked. Exactly. You were planning on what?

Police intervention. Difficult one for them to take all that seriously, I'm afraid. I can imagine. It's an uncomfortable thought, I'm afraid. Maybe I'm just unwilling to accept that one of our students would do this.

Watson, I'll need your laptop to begin my comprehensive research. Tonight, I will get to know every single student in that class. Cool. We heading out to meet them? Oh, I will be doing so through their online activity. Obtaining details, cross-referencing, harvesting vital nuggets of information that will lead us to our culprit. Ah, right, fine. I'm going to head out. Okay. And, uh, yeah. Try not to behave like a student. Try not...

I'm not gonna behave like a student, am I, Mariana? Come on. Oh, God. Did you do the work? What work? Oh, you are in so much trouble. I just... There's no easy way of asking this. What? Can I be sick in your bathroom, please? You should all be very proud for... Should be very proud for being... For... What is he doing? Hmm...

I can't do this. Welcome, listener. I hope you're enjoying your commute or household chore. Or maybe I've got your complete attention. Who knows? Listen, I hope you enjoy this second part of the three students. I will see you after class if you have any questions. Currently lying in my dorm bed. Had a bit of a boozy night out.

It's fine, though. I'm... It's... I can't believe so many people listened to the show. I love all of you, basically. I mean, I... Do you know what I'm going to do? Do you know what I'm... I'm going to do every damn shout-out possible because that is what you guys deserve. It's what you deserve. Shout-outs. So, shout-out to Lev.

Shout out to Ezra. Shout out to... To happy 14th birthday. It's August. In Medway. Massachusetts. In August. Happy... Happy shout out. Shout out to...

I saw your T-shirt and I was like, ah, that is from the tour. It is, yeah. I haven't seen it yet. I've got the tickets, though. Ooh, for when? Two weeks tomorrow. Two weeks tomorrow? Oh, sorry, Sherlock. This won't interest you. Are we talking about anything relevant? Taylor Swift. OK. I'm going to a gig. Is that important, is it? Oh, yeah. It's...

Very special. Very special, yeah, but maybe not relevant to the case. So yeah, the assessment was postponed literally right away. So what's their plan now? I don't know. I don't think we'll know anything anymore. Why do you say that? They won't share this kind of information again, will they? Not after what's happened. We betrayed, or somebody betrayed the trust of Professor Soames and his team. Indeed. What's that smell? Sigh.

He may have overdone it on the alcohol and frivolities...

I fear I may have overdone it on this case. How so? The information I was given by Professor Soames. Student profiles, summaries, grades, activities. I went beyond that, even delving into Instagrams and Twitters and TikToks.

I looked at relatives and friends and former employers and teachers of the students. I couldn't stop myself. The more I indulged, the frantically obsessive I became about finding out more, cramming more names and places and timetables and everything into my brain, causing the case to balloon from this tiny little incident into a vast complex of motive and opportunity and method. And now I... My head and...

"'I feel so exhausted by the whole thing.'

You have a work hangover. I fear I might. You should have paced yourself last night. What were you thinking? I was up until 5am. Oh, you're as bad as him. Pass it, man. On. Miss Gilchrist. You can call me Kayleigh. I realise you have athletics practice shortly. You really did research deeply, didn't you? Have you had any interaction with any students outside of your friendship group after you informed the professor about the leak?

In what way? I think Sherlock wants to know, has anyone given you a hard time about your decision to expose the truth that, you know, the students knew the details of the upcoming assessment? I mean, there's Miles, but that's just him. Miles. Miles McLaren, yes. What did he say to you? It wasn't like a rant or anything. He just said, lamp post to Snitch, but made sure I heard it. Lamp post. Yeah, yeah.

He calls me lamppost. I guess because I'm tall and skinny. Hmm. Nice. Yeah, that's Miles. Miles McLaren, from Buckinghamshire. Boarded from the age of three. Three? He went to boarding school at three? Mediocre grades somehow ticked upwards in the final moments of schooling, and he achieved enough to gain entry to Oxford. Almost expelled last year for a fight in a nightclub that went viral.

met Professor Soames three times this term alone to discuss his falling grades. No extracurricular activities surrounding the field of criminology, unlike most of the students, but he does spend a lot of time in the gym on Manor Road. Yeah, that's true. I've seen him there a lot. You have? Yeah, it's by the athletics club. I go there like four or five times a week and he's nearly always at that gym. Very, very interesting. What, you think on his way to the gym he...

broke in. We have motive. He would be dreading this examination. If he had been meeting Soames often in that office, it may give us method. He'd note the office is never locked, as he would be most familiar with it. But do we have opportunity? Was he on Manor Road for that window of time? I think he would be. Oh, God. Oh, Sleeping Beauty. What's, um...

What's going on? The consequences of your actions are what is going on. Hello. Hi. Kayleigh Gilchrist. John Watson. Enjoying Oxford, then? Yeah, very much so. Mariana, if this is about the case, could you switch my mic on, please? Oh, it's been on for a while. Great. Lovely. Does, um...

Does anyone know where my shoes are? No. Master Detective? No. Cool. Cool. Ah. That's great. Then we have Daulat Rass, of course. I love Daulat. Yeah, as well.

You'd be one of the very few. Yeah, he's quite quiet. Down that rags. You can go back to sleep, John. I'm just messing with you. No, no, he... I, um... I met him. What? When? Last night. Where? He was in one of the pubs. Who, Down that? Yeah. Yeah, he, um... I... Where's my phone? Let me, um... Have a look. Oh, God. Oh, looking at these pictures makes me want to throw up. Mm-hmm.

There he is.

Right? That's it. That confirms my findings. Findings that seem particularly curious. Why is this all curious? Dalit Ras, Indian-born, moved to the United Kingdom when he was eight, attended a Birmingham grammar school following a referral from his primary school who was so impressed with his academic performance they admitted him a year early. Chess champion, Go champion, spelling champion, maths champion.

but a penchant for criminology admitted to oxford university with a full scholarship academic prowess has continued albeit at a cost of popularity and social activity or so i thought until watson's excellent detective work last night

Sure. You're welcome. Oh, he suddenly found a group of friends. Yes, a girlfriend too, I would venture, judging by the lip gloss printed over his face. Yeah, he was definitely snogging some girl at one point. And there was another one, I think. Years of ostracism amongst his peer group, then seemingly instant popularity. What are you thinking? I'm thinking...

We need to speak to our suspects. Crime is bad. Okay. And it's important to stop crime. Because crime is... Okay, what does this bit even say? I can tweak the speech. Okay, do you mind? I'm trying to wallow in self-pity here. Good. Because you are not getting any pity from me or him. Who's him? She means me. Where have you been?

Did you get them? Nike, on sale, size 8. Don't say my shoe size on the podcast. You were in there for some time. I was examining their array of a very particular shoe. Okay, did you know when to buy it? No. Why? Not my thing. What is it? Shoes? Ah, there we go. I've got to find a sponsor, haven't we? Can't be burning through shoes at this rate. There he is. One of our possible suspects.

Sipping on his medium unsweetened oat milk extra hot cappuccino with chocolate dusting. Who we looking at? Sorry? Your friend, Mr. Dowlett Rass. Yeah, he really doesn't seem the type now I see him up close. Little guy drinking coffee all alone. Alone? For now. Why, who's joining him? We are. Chop chop! Mr. Rass. Hi?

I'm... Sherlock Holmes. Yes, and this is... I know who they are. Hey, mate. Never mind that. Are you not concerned with how I know who you are? Well, not really. You're Sherlock Holmes. It is your business to know. I'm glad we agree on that, at least. What's that exactly? That you have become my business. Guys, can you keep the mic here for a bit? I'm going to run to the toilet. Again? Again.

I'm a bit confused. On Tuesday between 10am and 11.10am, Professor Soames' office was broken into. I use that term in a legal sense, as there was no lock to actually break open. And shortly afterwards, a new phone number is added to the class group chat and an image is posted. I saw it. Yes, I'm sure.

Why would you post that image into the group? I didn't. I believe I know why. But I didn't. Academia is in of itself a competition and one you are excelling at, judging by your current grading. Yet, so is popularity. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Raths?

I dunno. For a boy like me, this was rather a tricky concept, as you can imagine. Rather like two magnets pushing academia would merely repel popularity, pushing popularity would repel academia. It was only when I would invert the concept and bring them together would they snap. Lockstep with one and another.

I don't know what you're talking about. Neither do I. Oh, but you do, Mrs Hudson, for you did the same. You tried many times in your schooling to trick the system. Stunts and bold moves to redress the failing standards of your popularity. Thank you, Sherlock. I cut the power for an assembly. I shouldn't have done it. It was pathetic and I thought it would get me noticed. And maybe...

Maybe you felt the same, right? Look, I didn't take the photo. Your professor seems rather keen on ancient Greece, Mr. Rass. I don't particularly enjoy myth and story, but I do quite like the tale of Prometheus. Do you know it? Sure. He stole fire from the gods and gave it to mankind. Yes. It has been professed that Prometheus did such an act due to his own altruism, his belief and love for mankind.

I think, however, it was to be immortalised. To be loved. To be popular. Quite the gift he gave to them after all. Wait, wait, wait, just, just, please. But you play with fire. You get burnt. Isn't that right, Mr. Rass? I have to... Don't worry, my colleague will be done in there soon. He tells me that you were out as well last night. Yeah, I think... Oh, you don't need to think.

I can tell. I can tell plenty, in fact. One thing sticking out at me right now is the redness on your lips and tongue. You've consumed lots of cranberry juice. Either you have a urinary tract infection or you're quite partial to a vodka cranberry juice. Or is it both, I wonder? Sherlock. How your fortunes have turned, Mr. Rass. Once a loner, and now, sleeping around, drinking until the early hours...

How did you secure such a social position so fast? Stop it! The gift of fire. In exchange for worship. Quite the deal. You enjoy the rest of your coffee. Careful. It looks rather hot. Wouldn't want you to get burnt. See you in the lecture hall. Oof, that was brutal. You're telling me. I had a chicken madras last night. Feels like lava coming out my nose. Still...

Starbucks toilets have seen worse, I'm sure. I was talking about Sherlock attacking that little student. Yes, little. A little too little, perhaps. We shall go on and find the next suspect. Sorry, what? You don't think it's Daulat or you do?

Or there's multiple suspects? Of course. So we just cooked that guy for no reason. When you say too little, what is too short for a man? Asking for a friend.

A very hungover friend, yes. Oh, and also he used my story. What story? My high school story that I'm very embarrassed about. A story that my parents still don't know about, by the way. Do they listen to the show? No, they don't speak English. And what were you worried about? It was important to illustrate the two ladders that these educational institutions have. Popularity and academia.

We've climbed to the top of one and visited Mr. Dowlet-Rass. It's time to see who sits atop the other ladder. Mr. Popular? Mr. Popular, indeed. Or, in this case, Mr. Miles McLaren. Ah, no, hold on. You can't just... Come along. Sherlock, you're being a little...

Sporadic. Not at all, Watson. No, we should get to the faculty, speak with Soames, have more of a battle plan, set a means for your suspects to come forward, not just chasing them around town. No, this is more fun. This is a gym that we're going to get chucked out of. John is right. You've built your web last night. Let them fly into it. Ooh, I like that. Oh, you do? Not the approach. No, we're still doing it my way. Got the spider and fly analogy.

Very good. Put that in the speech. Here we go. Miles McLaren. Not now, mate. Two secs. I can see why the strain arching your back too excessively. You're flaring your elbows and your forearms are tilted inwards. And your shoulder mobility is non-existent. Fortunately for you, you're 22. If you were trying that technique at 32, you'd be an A&E. Ah!

He's recording a case. This is Dr John Watson. I'm Mariana Mechazurra and that...

That is Sherlock Holmes. Wow, yeah, cool story. Quite the part you're playing, Mr McLaren. Miles. Miles? What part is that, mate? The arrogance, the confidence and lashing out with light mockery. Don't play parts, mate.

I speak my mind. I don't waltz around campus with a filter on thinking the sun shines out my arse. Fabulous. Someone who speaks their mind. Just what I need. Righto. Your grades, Miles. What's your honest, unfiltered assessment? Who are you? We've done the introductions, but you clearly weren't listening. My grades are shit, mate. And what? Lovely.

Drug habit? No comment. You don't really need to, in truth. Dilated pupils, restless energy, signs of atrophic rhinitis. Wouldn't you agree, Watson? I certainly would. Looks sore. Bloody tissues by your water bottle as well there, mate. You've been having nosebleeds. Right, I'm off, gents. Nice little laugh and all that, but I've got a lecture on, so... Where's your lecture?

Faculty of Law? Mm-hmm. With whom? Special guest speaker. Gonna be a shit-ton more interesting listening to him than you lot. Adios. I doubt that, judging by what I've seen of his speech. Hey. Miles, I've given you an assessment of your overhead dumbbell press...

I hope you found it helpful. Sure, whatever. I can offer more if you like. Yeah, well, I don't like. Then I shall offer it anyway. As a scholar, you leave a lot to be desired. Not that there's anyone in your life rooting for your success. You are wayward, dissipated and unprincipled. You've nearly been expelled. Idling all term is a phrase I've seen more than once when applied to the academic performance of Miles McLaren. What? Surely. You must be dreading this examination. You're a joke, mate.

Tell me exactly who you've been speaking to. Come on! Not that many people. Merely researching. Suspicions validated immediately, of course, from this meeting. Think I'm struggling academically, do you? Because I work out and enjoy myself in the evenings. Those aren't the observations that lead to that particular deduction. Well, enlighten me, Dr. Dumbbell. Again, I'm the doctor. You are academically disengaged because you don't know who your special guest speaker is. Uh, yes I do. Oh, I assure you.

You don't. Yeah? Why's that? Because it's me. Hold on, what? You entered the unlocked office of Professor Soames, did you not? What? You took the picture. Oh, come off it, we've done this shit. You leaked the details of the assessment. Oh, how many people are going to accuse me of this? I didn't do it. The most to gain, the least to lose, eh, Miles? Get out of his face, Miles. Yeah? Yeah.

And what's gonna happen if I don't? Oh, he's not in my face. He's in the palm of my hand. Isn't that right, Miles? Shut up. Is that how you got here, is it? Cheating your way into the finest university in the country? You watch your fucking mouth! I'd rather watch your eyes. Look at them. Scanning for a way out. Lunging this way and that. Every way but right here. To me. Why would that be? Dishonesty? Discomfort?

Did you enter Professor Soane's office? No. Oopsie. There's a lie. I didn't. There it is again. Visual recall requires looking top right. Top left is your eyes retrieving a visual construct, I'm afraid. Look, I swear. Alright, I didn't. Fact. You went surfing last weekend, did you not, Miles? Yeah, and? I wonder where it was that you surfed. Don't tell me.

I'll have the sand I discovered in Professor Soames' office analyzed. I should be able to work it out from that. Oh, and a true criminologist would know whether or not visual recall and lying eyes was just an NLP pseudoscience. Anyway, best be off. I've gotta go be a shit ton more interesting, apparently. You may get a little excited when you shop at Burlington.

They have my... It's like a whole new... I can buy two! I'm saving so much! Burlington saves you up to 60% off other retailers' prices every... Will it be the low prices or the great brands? You'll love the deals. You'll love Burlington. I told you so. Styles and selections vary by store.

Okay, right. Deep breaths. How many? Just one or two. You don't want to overdo it. I'm rather nervous, Watson. That's normal. Absolutely normal. They'll be nervous too. They will? Of course, mate. Yes, they're watching a speech by the great Sherlock Holmes. Yes, of course. Okay, I think we're ready. It's time. Everybody, please give a big, warm welcome to Sherlock Holmes. Um...

Yes. Hello. My name is Sherlock Holmes. And you are studying criminology. That's what I have deduced. Small pause. Oh, for God's sake. The Faculty of Law here at Oxford University has some of the highest admission standards in the world. You should all be very proud for... Should be very proud for being... For... What is he doing? I can't do this.

Oh my god. Shall I go get him? Shush, shush, shush. Wait. He's going to say something. What can I possibly commend you for? There is a cheat among us, and the rest accomplices. One could argue a whole room of cheats. The future of British law enforcement and civil integrity, I was told. Yet just one, just one of you brought the leaked information to Professor Soames here.

The rest of you substituted your ethics for a superficial reward. A reward of which, yes, would lead to a good job, a long career, healthy remuneration. So in short, you were silenced for money. Is this who we want investigating our crimes? Solving our murders? Hunting our criminals? I am not honoured to be here and I am not remotely impressed by any of you. But I am grateful.

Indeed, Professor, because this singular problem has instilled me with, I feel, not just the confidence, but the content for my address to this class. Let us begin. Here we have...

Manor Road. Runs west to east. Connects the Faculty of Law to Balliol College Recreation Grounds to the west and Merton College Recreation Grounds to the east. Your lectures and classes, outside of more personal tutorials and seminars, encompass a number of different colleges represented in the class. So a suspect sits among us.

But it is highly likely that due to the nature of this crime taking place outside of any scheduled classes, that our suspect is in either Balliol or Merton, which narrows our field from 109 students to just 18.

18 students. Oliver Lennon, Aditi Patel, Yen Yun, Emilia Wick, Dalit Rass, Ava Williams, Charlie Nguyen, Isla Evans, Thomas Wilson-Brooke, Sophie Clarke, Miles McLaren, Mia Beckwith, Oscar Wright Morgan, Grace Harris, Bahamid Bilal Barakat, Lily Robinson, Kayleigh Gilchrist and Ella Chen. I haven't got to the impressive bit yet. How do we bring 18 down to one? Well first, we rule out alibis.

Oliver Lennon? Yes? You are off my list. Do you know why? I do, yes. Yet you are afraid to confirm it. You will be familiar with my friend Mrs Hudson, won't you? She provided me with a helpful analogy today. I want you to imagine a spider's web, young scholars. That is what we have. I am the spider and you are my flies. You are stuck.

Why? Because we're suspects. Join me in the metaphor, please. Web fibres. Web fibres. My beautiful threads of spiral silk. That's correct. How do you escape? Cut the fibre. Cut the fibre. An alibi is your sharpest weapon. Shame and guilt and embarrassment only serve to blunt it. Mr Oliver Lennon, do you wish to cut yourself free?

I do. Then slice away. Where were you on the day of the crime? Roleplaying. Speak up, please. I was roleplaying. Specificity is your friend, Mr Lennon. It is the whetstone to your dull blade. I was roleplaying in a reenactment of the Battle of Bosworth. Of course, commemorating the Battle of Bosworth, the anniversary of which is upon us.

Thank you, Mr. Lennon. Round of applause for Oliver. Down to 17. Four others of you wield tools of your salvation, none of which are as embarrassing as Oliver's. Yes, Miss Harris. I was with my boyfriend in Manchester. Correct. You were indeed. You enjoyed Taco Bell at the Arndale Centre, according to a post seen by just 29 people.

I was one of those 29. I can tell you that Mohamed Bilal Barakat was with his father, Thomas Wilson-Brooke was working, and Ava Williams, you were... I was on holiday, wasn't I? You were indeed. Marseille looks very lovely this time of year. But you must apply sun cream at regular intervals with at least an SPF of 30.

Thirteen flies remain in my web, but I can only consume a single fly at this point in time. So at this stage in my investigation, I'm not looking for you to cut yourselves loose. I'm deciding who isn't worth the stomach acid. Let's examine the map. The window that Professor Soames' desk looks out on is here.

The north side of Manor Road. Who is likely to be walking on the north pavement more so than the south pavement? Well, of course, in usual circumstances it would be those who are wishing to enter the building. But there's nothing scheduled, so we look to patterns of movement. Balliol College in the west, here. Merton College in the east. The pedestrian crossing nearest to Merton College is farthest south than where Manor Road adjoins.

One would have to cross from that college, walk along the south pavement, and then what? Assume that perhaps there would be important documents on Soames' desk? At a hunch? No. This was a chance sighting. So the suspect was utilising the north pavement. And look here. A pedestrian crossing on the Balliol College side. That would serve a route directly onto the north pavement.

Merton College students, thank you kindly for flying into my web, but you do not entice me. Your Balliol College friends look far more delicious. And then there were seven. Oh, dearie, dearie. Now, who from Balliol College, from this class, needed to access Manor Road that morning and travel along it on the north pavement heading from west to east? And this is where I close down my prey.

Daulat Rass. Yes, Mr. Holmes. My colleague, Dr. John Watson, informed me that you were fraternizing with soon-to-be first-year students. Is that correct? I... Yes, it is. I am observing a lot of confused faces. Can you imagine why that would be, Mr. Rass? Because people, they... they... they don't like me. They...

They don't think I'm cool. Not sure about not liking you, but they certainly are surprised to learn you are enjoying a vigorous social life. But why would they be incoming freshers? Um...

I don't know. You do know. You volunteered to host tour groups. Last year, you moved from Merton to Balliol. When a tour group required an individual knowledgeable enough of the college, you put your hand up. You walked that morning along Manor Road and passed Professor Soames' window. Miles McLaren. Pleasure to see you again, Miles. I hope I'm enthralling you as you expected.

Most detectives would note that your gym is at the end of Manor Road and would require you to walk along it. They would speculate that you did so. I, of course, know that any person who spends at least half as much time in the gym as you do simply must talk about it absolutely incessantly online and damn near build their entire personality around it.

So I know that you went that morning. I know it was a leg day. And I know that you consumed a pre-workout alpha boost porridge with a scoop of peanut butter before the workout and a chocolate protein shake after. Should you be the guilty party, Mr. McLaren, I would suggest exercising a little more restraint in your grandstanding online activity. So here we are.

We may have lost a lecture where I impart my knowledge, but I hope we have gained some entertainment. I know my colleague over there has gained an adventure for the podcast. What are you going to call this one? What about the adventure of the peanut butter scoop? Not sure about that one. The adventure of the two students. My colleague seems to be nodding from the sidelines here. But I have to say I'm not sure about that one either. How about the adventure...

Of the three students, Mr. Rass, Mr. McLaren, please come down and join me at the front here. Whilst they make their way down, we have discussed the routes and location. Let's talk about the scene itself. Window unopened, and I would point out, it cannot open. Door unlocked, courtesy of Professor Soames here. Everything untouched, almost everything untouched.

Soames' desk had a fascinating imprint on its surface: a multitude of very small holes, no more than two millimeters in diameter for each one. And of course, this. You can't see this, of course, but I can tell you, this is sand.

Mr. Rass and Mr. McLaren, thank you for joining me. I'll be with you shortly. My first point, of course, is to Professor Soames, a recent attendee of Sidmouth Folk Festival. Isn't that right, Professor? Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's right, yeah. And you went to the beach, did you not? Uh, multiple times, yeah. Just Sidmouth Beach? That's correct.

Then the sand is from the intruder. Why? Well Miles, because Sidmouth is a pebble beach. Fair enough. I can see why you would want to shift the attention on the sand though. Nice try. But this type of sand does not implicate yourself, nor does it Mr. Rass. This sand is washed, contains no stones or grit, and very uncommon for sand on the British Islands. If I run it along this surface, it leaves no scratch.

This is safety-approved, graded and washed sand. For sporting activities. Or toddlers, of course. But there aren't too many of those at Bailey or College. I would like to ask our third student to the front, Kayleigh Gilchrist. Kayleigh, if you could, if you could stand alongside these two gentlemen. Thank you, ever so.

Kayleigh Gilchrist attends the Athletic Club at the end of Manor Road, just before the Merton College grounds. At that time, on that day, the club would have had open sessions for her chosen pursuits, which encapsulate a number of sporting disciplines. Well, seven, to be exact. The heptathlon. In no particular order, that's 100m hurdles, high jump, shot put, 200m, javelin throw, 800m and long jump.

and there it is the flicker on your faces the upwriting of your postures for once the entire class has their attention pointing where it should be and why is that it is because crime is a multi-faceted problem-solving game with the highest possible stakes

For me, it is addictive, yes, but it gives me something I seek so sorely from conventional education: to understand humanity. And that is what you desire too. Kayleigh Gilchrist, on her way to her morning training, walked along Manor Road and something about her, and only her in this lineup, made her discover an opportunity.

Who can point that out? Her height. You have redeemed yourself, Oliver. Kayleigh Gilchrist, cruelly nicknamed Lamp Post by this idiot, is six foot three. Dowlett Rass is five foot four. And Miles McLaren is... Six foot. Come on now. Five eleven. I will keep the whole class behind, Mr McLaren, unless you tell me the truth. Five eleven.

Five foot eight. The windows of Manor Road sit 177 centimetres off the ground. That is five foot and ten inches. Only Kayleigh could have seen through the window. Only Kayleigh could have been presented with this opportunity. She's the assistant to Professor Soames, so she knows his office and habits inside out. Which brings us to Method. She wanders into the building, eases open the door of his office and walks over to the desk.

Freeing up her right hand, she places down her shoes. But not any shoes. What would explain the marks on the desk surface given our new understanding of our suspect?

Anybody? Spikes? Running athletics spikes? Correct. Now, I like to be precise about these things, so after some extensive and, quite frankly, boring research, I concluded that the placement and formation of the spikes would point to the Nike Zoom Rival Multi-Event Spikes SU24 Size 9. I saw them closely in the shop while shopping for Dr. Watson's. The Nike Zoom Rival is a lovely shoe, I'm sure.

but could do with a clean as we all know because of... The sand! Deposits of sand found in Professor Soames' office, that is correct. What about motive? Well, for you Miles, I speculated that it would be for personal gain of course to cheat and achieve a much higher mark than you deserve but that wouldn't explain the leaking of the image. For Daulat here, I could understand leaking the image to gain popularity, to not be seen as just a nerdish academic

But we know now his recent popularity is with first years, and he certainly wouldn't need to do any sort of cheating to achieve a grade he is surely destined for. Then there's Cayley, also a high achiever academically, but also a strong and diverse friendship group across a number of classes and clubs. So why? Why would she do it? And why then report it to Professor Soames?

Any ideas? To maybe, like, increase her standing with the staff? To impress the professor, you mean? Yeah. Interesting notion, but for a final year student I wouldn't quite see the point. Maybe she chickened out? Possible. It is always worth doubting the strength and will of the human heart. Professor Soames, when remarking on Cayley, used the words of Aristotle: "Quality is not an act, it is a habit."

So surely, if this was habitual to her nature, she would have revealed all to Professor Soames. Not just the paper has been leaked, but I, Cayley, was the one to do it. But she didn't. She took the picture. She leaked the details. And then she informed the professor. And I can tell you, she played it very well. Because the motive, for at least a moment, was achieved.

The assessment was delayed. Why would she want to delay the assessment? Wouldn't be a family grievance, as the school would accommodate that. Wouldn't be a professional opportunity, because again, the school and faculty would find a way of making that work. What could it be? Perhaps Kayleigh could tell us. Taylor Swift. A little louder for those in the back.

Swift. She had obtained, priceless in her opinion of course, tickets to a music concert. She discovered the date of the assessment, noticed the clash and acted in haste, yes, in stupidity and selfishness, yes. But that, my friends, is crime. Crime.

It is messy, stupid, conniving, opportunistic, perpetrated in cruelty, in kindness, in seething hate, in searing love. It is all manner of things because it is us. You are studying and understanding us, an undertaking I have dedicated my entire life to and failed miserably at.

It is only in a doctor from Swindon and an accountant from Sociedad have my studies in the human condition become all the more enlightening. Thank you very much to our suspects. Don't be too tough on Kayleigh. She just bought you an extra month to study. And of course, to hopefully extract some wisdom from my appearance, if there was indeed any at all. Thank you. Now, on to the speech. Whee!

Good afternoon. You should all be very proud for the achievements you have already achieved in the the your life. Being at Yunkie Verdant City Ugh, you. Oh god. is a very special times. A very drinky times. Lol.

Twinkie times. Guffalinchina. Ah, we're probably running a bit short on time. Aren't we, Professor? Yeah. Sorry about that. I might have got a bit too excited about the whole university sort of vibe got carried away. But I hope you enjoyed it. Hope all you students out there are having a good break. Hope the exams went well.

Thank you for listening to the adventure of the three students. Where's my crisps? Literally, they were just here. Sherlock!