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A girl is missing. What? Their friend has vanished. Are you being serious? Our friend Harriet, best friend, got married. Was going to get married, I mean. To a British guy. How did we first find out about them? She sent his Twitter thing, remember? The Noble Bachelor. Right, the Noble Bachelor. What's the Noble Bachelor? Hiya. Oh, hi John. Hello, mate. Hi, pal, you alright? Um...
This is Robert. Hi mate, nice to meet you. I'll be in in a sec. Why did you choose Harriet? I didn't choose her. I fell in love with her. The Noble Bachelor. A very popular little enterprise you have. Why throw it all away for Harriet? Is it because of her family's money? God no. Absolutely not. I was walking him in the park. It is so dark, but I could see this white thing.
floating in the ponds and I... Mariana, what is that? That's the wedding dress of Harriet Doran. Welcome to part two of The Noble Bachelor. Just before you tuck in, before you gobble the episode up, I should say in the ingredients for this episode is a drizzle of light swearing, a dash of violence and a dollop of duck poo.
Well, a reference to duck poo. I don't know if that's worthy of a warning. You never know. Best be safe. It's 6am and that is the sound of a... What is it again, mate? It's a hydraulic dredge. A hydraulic dredge that is currently excavating a duck pond here in Regent's Park as the search for...
Well, hopefully not the body of Harriet Doran, but... Well, I don't know. Clues, maybe. It's not good. Not good. Disgusting. Yeah, it is, mate. I don't know how someone could do that to her, to be honest. No. The amount of duck excrement. Look at that. Horrible creatures. Sherlock is, of course, deeply anxious and saddened about the possible murder. How much longer do you think, mate?
Be about two hours. Right. Yeah, just hope we find clues, you know, and not her. Yeah, yeah. So... I'm not full of confidence, though. Neither am I. Now Mrs Hudson has involved the police. Yeah, of course she involved the police. Why wouldn't she involve the police? A number of reasons, but the main one is that they'll get in my way. Great, great, yes. Can we just try and cooperate with the Met, please? Ah, hey, there he is. Hmm. What's he doing here?
Wait a minute, he's not with the TV crew, is he? Oh my god. And thus the limelight shines down on the Noble Bachelor. What are you doing? Look at that. What is it? Book charts on Amazon. Look at second and third. Beta is Better. A guide to being a beta male in the 21st century by Robert Pritchard, a.k.a. the Noble Bachelor. The ally. How to be a male feminist, Robert Pritchard, Noble Bachelor. What?
Death sells. Well, he and his publisher are going to be bitterly disappointed. Why's that? Because Harriet Doran is not dead. Robert bugs me. Doesn't he bug you? Erm... Yes. I suppose he does. Maybe we could, you know... You know what? Nudge the police in his direction and get him questioned. Why?
Because he bugs you? Just the whole act. The whole performance. For nothing. For money? Exactly. You know, worse than nothing. He's invented this whole character to just make money and shag as much as possible, basically. Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Watson? No, you do not detect a hint of jealousy. Yes, more than a hint. A deluge. I am not jealous of him. It's just, I'm tired of people like him. You know, people that...
Parade around under their halo online and then get away with murder. Literally. And then there's Frank, of course. Dead Frank? Yes. Dead Frank. I mean, yeah. A bit of organised crime. It's never going to bode well for Harriet, but I just don't get why the family would go after her. Does she know something? A little late if she does. It's been two years since his death and two years since the imprisonment of his father.
And look at this. What? What is that? An obituary. Two weeks ago, Hogarth Bailey died in prison. 79 years of age, and that final line there, Watson. Father of Caitlin, Joseph, and the late Frank Bailey. Where did you find this? Harriet's Instagram post from two years ago. Mourning for her late partner got me a name. His account is still live and public. Are you suggesting that we've got some kind of...
Mafia type situation going on here? No. Oh, okay. The time difference did me some favours last night Watson, here. Look. Coroner's report on Frank T Bailey, motor vehicle accident, New Mexico. Right, what's the problem? That is the problem. Signed by the Federal Medical Examiner. See?
Right. Right. Right. Yep. Yeah, yeah. You don't get it, do you? Nope. I knew you didn't. This is our stop. Just how? I said I'm hungry, Watson. Explanations will follow. We've had a call. From who, Mrs. Hudson? Miss Fiona Pritchard. Uh, mother of the groom. She says that after the floor thing, she saw Robert and Harriet talking. Talking or arguing? I...
Well, she said talking, that's all I know. Where? In the pavilion where the first dance was going to be. Well, I mean, he was always going to get a bollocking after that, wasn't he? Was he? Oh, yeah, mate. Yeah. Your ex-girlfriend going nuts at your wedding. I mean, Harriet would have given him an earful. A deserved earful, obviously. Mrs Pritchard didn't suggest an argument. I mean, she could be protecting her son. Poorly executed protection if she called us and contradicted his account.
Oh, she said she has shared this information with the police. Nice for them to feel involved, I suppose. Righto, breakfast. Wait, just... did he kill her? Sherlock. What did I say, Watson? She's not dead. Wait, she's not? She's not. And I will prove it. After breakfast.
You're being smug. No, I am not, Watson. Yes, you are. This is not smugness. This is confidence and relief that Harriet is alive. Yeah, but when you're the only person in the world that knows she's alive, it comes across smug. I'm not the only person in the whole world. There's another. You gonna elaborate on that? I can, yes. Good. Here you go. What's this? It's a protein breakfast.
Right. Accidentally fed the last of our bread to the ducks, sir. Two eggs and a sausage it is. You know, it's not nice listening to other people eat. What do you mean? I don't think the listener will appreciate... Ah, yes, good point. It's just the social norm is that whoever did the cooking doesn't do the washing up, that's all. Noted, Watson. I'll let you off once you deliver the goods. Yes, right, of course. This. This. This is the goods? Indeed.
Er, looks like an old bit of paper. Not old, just wet. Found in the wedding dress, a note. The water has run the words clean off the paper. The police can have the dress. This is the key. OK, it doesn't feel like much of a key. Look at the back of it. It's, erm, it's a receipt. Very faint. Er...
A receipt for a Bloody Mary. Jesus, 21 quid. What is the world coming to? I can't read much else, mate. It's pretty smudged. Neither can I. But for the impression made on the paper. A signature, again, hard to make out, but these indentations made from the nib of a biro. A number. 148. 148. Why would a number be written in biro on a receipt? A hotel. That's right.
A Bloody Mary. A morning drink for most. Perhaps somebody needed to wet their whistle before the wedding. But how do we find this somebody? We find the hotel that charges £21 for a Bloody Mary. Thirsty? MUSIC
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Just heading over Waterloo Bridge now, where we will eventually reach the Savoy, I believe. Bugger. What? Who is it? Mrs Hudson. Oh, don't tell me you've saved Marianna in your phone as Mrs Hudson. No wedding photos available from the photographer yet. I thought you'd solved it. 94% there. Right, of course. Yep, 94. Yep. All I confirmed is that she's not dead. Wedding photography could have helped close the case.
Do we think Robert is deliberately withholding the photos? Or even tampering and then sending them on to us? No, we don't think that. Why don't we think that? Because Robert is not hiding Harriet. He's hiding something else. What about Instagram for photos? Harriet didn't take any. She obviously had bigger things going on and...
Robert's Instagram is dedicated to his noble bachelor persona. No, but people always give their weddings hashtags, don't they? They what? Like, um... I don't know. I went to one a few years ago and the groom's surname was Woods, so the hashtag was hashtag The Newlywoods. Oh. Went to my mate Adam Boyle's wedding. You can guess what that one was, can't you? No, and I don't want to. I know you don't want to, but you can guess. The Boyle wedding. Yes! Heh.
Disgusting. Yep. What's Mr Perfect's surname again? Pritchard. Robert Pritchard. Pritchard. Pritchard. Yes, yep, I've got it. You haven't. Hashtag getting pritched. God help me. Here we go, see? Pictures from the day.
Yeah, see there's Alice in Ivy, there's the whole ceremony there. Look. Mm-hmm. What else? Uh, one by... looks like his sister from the rehearsal. Wait, stop. What? Solved it. 100%. What? Case closed. Sherlock, just wait a second. Oh my god. Let's go to the Savoy and celebrate, eh, Watson? Good morning. Could we peruse the drinks menu? Thank you ever so. Are you going to actually explain this? Or are you just going to smugly prance around London? Watson, look.
Bloody Mary, 21 quid. Excuse me, sir, I'm on a business trip and I've misplaced a receipt from here. Two days ago, it was first thing, I ordered a Bloody Mary. Could you provide me a copy? Of course, what time would it have been? In the morning, no later than 8.30. Let me have a check on the system for you. Thank you. Come on, let's hear it. Harriet fainted at her wedding rehearsal, not because of anxiety or stress about her marriage to Robert. She fainted because of shock.
Last night, despite nearly two hours of searching, I found two Franks that died in car accidents in New Mexico two years ago. Both married, one 76, the other 82. Neither could be Harriet's Frank. I could find no others, nothing.
Show me the pictures on Instagram of the ceremony and the rehearsal. Er, yeah, er, here. See a key difference between the two. There's loads of differences. There's hardly any people there in the rehearsal, for a start. Yes, but there are some. Er, yeah, yeah, erm, those three there, that family, this guy in the hat, Alice, Ivy, a girl there in the corner. The guy in the hat. Find him in the ceremony picture. He's...
He's not there. He's not there because he didn't show up. Why didn't he show up? Because he's with the other person that didn't show up. Harriet. Why didn't Harriet and the man in the hat show up? Because the man in the hat is- Receipt you requested, sir. Bang! Mr. Frank T. Bailey. Whose death was invented. The coroner's report was signed by a medical federal examiner, not a state coroner. More specifically, not the state coroner of New Mexico.
The invention was by US federal agencies following his deposition that indicted his own father and his criminal organisations. Like many former lovers, even one supposedly dead, he kept tabs on his beloved Harriet via her social media presence and when she revealed a hastily arranged wedding and feeling safer after his father's recent passing, he couldn't sit back and let it happen without letting her know he was still alive.
Upon seeing him at the rehearsal, she fainted. He helped her up and in that process passed her a note that he had scribbled on the back of a receipt like this: "Frank Bailey is not scattered over the New Mexico landscape in a fiery wreckage. Harriet Doran is not decaying amongst the duck poo at the bottom of some Regent's Park boating pond. She is here, with him, in room 148 of the Savoy Hotel in London."
Excuse me. Hello there, how can I help? Could you leave a message for Mr. Frank Bailey and Miss Harriet Doran in room 148? I can, yes. Go ahead. Tell them to come to 221B Baker Street in one hour to apologise for not making it to the wedding. Lots of love, Sherlock Holmes. And you gave a statement? Yeah, I gave one. Alice, you did too, right? Yeah, I did, yeah. How's, um, you know, how is their investigation going? I...
I don't know. I do. Do you? Yeah, it's going dreadfully. Really crap. Amateur stuff from what I've seen. So they won't find her? No. Charlotte, could you maybe just get to the point, for their sake? Why? My point will arrive in four minutes. Ooh, early. Mr Perfect has perfect timing. What? I thought we were waiting for, you know... Oh.
Robert is here? Send him in. What? No! Do not send him in! Hi. Hi, Alice. Ivy. He leaves or we leave? Nobody is leaving. He should be in a cell. Probably just a fine and community service, I think, for him. Sorry, what? What? Right, okay, right. If everyone can just, um, you know, let's sit back down. Can I get anyone a tea? I don't want tea! I want my friend, goddammit! I'm sick of this shit! Very moody.
Must be the jetlag. I don't have jetlag! I may need my ear defenders if she's going to continue, Watson. Just everyone settle down. Sherlock here has sorted this. Sorted? Sorted what? Here we go. What is so funny? How about I get the police up here? Would that be funny? Oh, it would be hilarious. Sherlock? It's... it's, um... Yes, I know who it is. Send them in. Yeah.
Oh my god. Hi. Oh my god, oh my god! Where were you? Harriet! Jesus, Harriet! Ivy and Alice. You remember Frank. Holy shit. Hey, Alice. Hey, Ivy. What? What is going on? An apology, hopefully. So, uh...
After what Frank went through with his father, I just... Harriet didn't know any of this. Honest. What happened? You're... You're dead! I... So, look. After what happened with my father, for my safety and mostly for Harriet's, it was decided what was best was to orchestrate the death of Frank Bailey so that everyone I valued would be safe. And I guess that I would be safe.
When my dad died in jail and I discovered that Harriet was getting married, I don't know why I did what I did, but I did it. And now I'm here. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. We're both sorry. I wanted to reach out to you guys, but it's just so complicated. And we wanted to be with each other so badly. And we didn't want you to get hurt. I don't know. I'm just... I'm so, so sorry because I love you two more than anything.
It's okay. It's okay? How can it be okay? It just is. This is so, so much better than you being dead. I notice you haven't apologized to the noble bachelor here. Oh my god, right. Of course, Robert. But we know why you haven't, don't we, Robert?
You and Harriet spoke at the wedding. You even saw her in her wedding dress. Dreadful bad luck, that Robert, if you believe in that kind of thing. Watson, how are the Noble Bachelor's Back catalogue doing? Er, hey, well, hey, looks like you've got the number one spot now. Yes, and I read you were going to start a podcast.
Quite the fashion, as Watson here will tell you. I'm... I'm not quite sure what you're getting at. Oh, you're absolutely sure what I'm getting at. Harriet didn't apologise to you just now because you already knew. And you already knew because she told you the whole thing on your wedding day. A faked death. Tremendously valuable. Valuable in personal terms for Frank here. Valuable to you in more monetary terms, I feel. It's... it's not like that. Is it not? Am I losing my touch, Mr Pritchard?
It's any wonder why you came to see me with this case at all. Was it just to promote your case on my companion's terrible podcast? Hey! She wanted it too, and so did he! We wanted to disappear. We didn't want to... We didn't want police and search parties.
Robert said to put the dress in the pond. He wanted it to look the way it looked. You wanted to disappear with him! Yeah, I didn't want to fake my death. It's the same thing! You wanted to exploit this whole situation! Oh, but don't try and turn this on me. You ran away with another man on our bloody wedding day! Yeah, a man I loved and thought was dead. So, he can fake his death, but no, no, no, Harriet can't. I had to fake my own death. The FBI wanted me to fake my own death, asshole! This whole thing could have been avoided by you. I do agree.
Yes. Ah, you must be Flora. There, up the steps, first door on the right. Play nice. Sorry, the significance of Flora? Was she in on it? No. Then why is she in the flat? Well, I need Robert to learn his lesson. We can't expect to wait around for the police, can we? Chop, chop.
That, listeners, was The Noble Bachelor. Not as noble as the name would suggest it would seem. But, yeah. Hey, nobody died. Yay. Well, apart from Frank's dad. But that's... Yeah, he was a crime lord from the sounds of it. So, yeah, anyway. I just want to say thank you for all the kind messages and reviews for the show. We are completely blown away. And to see it bringing so much intrigue and enjoyment and fascination, it...
It just warms my heart. So, don't forget...
What are you doing? Hmm? What are you doing? I'm recording. I'm practising my Cornish. You're what? My Cornish. As in the language? Or are you making a pasty? The language, Watson. Of course. Well, stop it, please. I'm recording. Not necessary. Follow him on Twitter at DocJWatsonMD and leave him five stars. Thank you. Yep, what he said. And...
Kij the Vyaz. Kij the... What? Is that Cornish? What does it mean? It means fu-