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Support comes from the California Department of Cannabis Control. Only licensed dispensaries sell real California cannabis regulated for consumer protection. Licensed retailers can be found at real.cannabis.ca.gov. Hey there, listeners. I'm back. Dr. John Watson coming to you live from Baker Street. Not live. Um...
But, yep. This is the problem of Thorbridge. Is there a drug reference? You betcha. Is there death and violence? Yep, and... Yep. And is there swearing? Well, the F word makes an appearance. Twice. In quick succession. Oh, no, wait. Thrice. Blimey, no, there's another one, isn't there? So...
Qua-quice? Quadra-ice? Four times! Yep, four times. I believe the S word, S-H-I-T, has a brief cameo. So, yeah, apologies. Oh, and the word bugger a few times. If you count that as swearing, that's in there. I mean, I know my mum does, so sorry, mum. Yeah, enjoy. Sherlock and Co. My dana speaking.
Uh, yes. Yes, he's here. Sherlock, it's for you. Do the wheels move once more, Mrs. Hudson? Does the period of trivialities and stagnation come to an end this morning? Uh, I'm sorry, what? Who's on the phone? I think he means who's on the phone. It's London Taxi and Private Hire. They have your results? Ah, excellent. Results for what, sorry? The knowledge. Cabbie's test. Morning, this is Sherlock Holmes speaking.
Did I pass? Excellent. No, I'm not going to cry. Why would I cry? Before you go, I want you to contend Route 161 in the blue book, Lollard Street to Nunhead Cemetery. Mm-hmm.
Yes, well, it should be right on Wingcott Street, left on Gilbert Road, Gilbert Road turns into Renfrew Road, that is not a turning, then left on Kennington Lane, A3204, merge left on A3, third exit at Elephant and Castle onto A201, first exit at Ring Road Square on New Kent Road, A2 to Pomeroy Street, straight over the Queen's Road into Lausanne Road, right onto Evelina Road, left on Gibbon Road, left on Oakdale Road, straight over Mini Roundabout 1, loop back round on Mini Roundabout 2, left on Linden Grove and Nunhead Cemeteries on your left.
Mrs. Hudson, I think our new phone may not be working. Hello? Oh, I think they hung up. What strange people. Sherlock, mate. Yes, Watson. I'm just a little bit confused here. We've set up a business.
You know, we've hired Mariana, she's moved here into 221A. Look around, we've built a bloody office in her flat for goodness sake. Yes, and now I finally have space in my bedroom for the contraption I have been developing. Here are my early renders. What is... that looks like a scrum machine. A scrum machine? Does it provide compression stimulation, muscle relief along with blood pressure reduction with an increase in oxytocin? Sherlock, is this...
A hugging machine? Yes, quite. The deep pressure and constriction is quite to my tastes. Self-regulation, you see. Well, I mean, I can give you a hug if you want. You can? I can too. Excellent. I will ensure this expanded responsibility is reflected in your salary, Mrs Hudson. No, no, no, no, no. That's not necessary. Come here.
So you were going to be a cabbie? I thought we were trying to run a business. It's not something I said, is it? Because I know I can be a bit... A cabbie? Well, yeah. Why? Because you just passed the knowledge. I have, yes. You may buy me a congratulatory gift, if you wish. I can submit a list of suitable items in the WhatsApp group. You may also, Mrs. Hudson. Great.
Thanks. So you're going to be a London cab driver? I'm not going to be a cab driver. I'm a consulting detective. See, look, I have a business card. That's my business card. But that's my name. There. That's because the company is called Sherlock & Co. Why are you taking the knowledge? Um, 16th September. It was a Saturday. I was rather bored. Yeah, and? I decided to take it. You took the knowledge...
Because you were bored? Indeed. Of course. Of course. Um... Oh, yeah, who was that on the phone? It was the Brazilian embassy. Are you serious? What did they want? What did they want? They want our help. A Brazilian male murdered in London last night. What? Where? Barking. East London.
Gunshot wound to the head. I found it. You've never struck me as a TikTok user? It's the quickest resource. Three videos here. One of the body. That's Thor Bridge, near Upney Station. Mrs Hudson, head to the Brazilian Embassy. I'll message you our requirements. It's Mariana. Hurry, Watson. The game is afoot. Yes, on my way. I'll just grab my phone. Oh, God's sake, where is it? Right, right. Oh.
God, murder. Jesus. You okay? Yeah, I just... Well, you know, this is serious, isn't it? It's okay, John. Well, not for the murdered Brazilian bloke, it's not. Watson, I was rather hoping that when I said the game was afoot, you'd come... Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Yep, yep.
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 Sherlock Holmes.
This is... This is Matheus. If... If anything happens to me... To... If I die... Tonight... I want you... I want everybody to be... To be fucking knowing for sure that... It was... It was a man... A sick... Sick evil man... Grace Dunbar... Grace fucking Dunbar... In Ilford...
He wants to fucking kill me! He's armed and he's coming after me! God, a bit nervous. Are you nervous? No.
Could I suggest something, Watson? Mm-hmm. You may wish to pour that pumpkin coffee away. Oh, it's not pumpkin coffee. I changed my mind at the end and I got the salted maple caramel latte. Oh, of course. An autumnal beverage, nice and cosy-wozy. Did you say beverage? Hot drinks? Makes you think of cold drinks, doesn't it? The word beverage.
Does it? Well, let me know what you think. Get in touch on X or Twitter. Email me, maybe. I've just set up an email. God, I feel a bit lightheaded. Watson. Yep. I enjoy your company. Oh, thanks, mate. That's very nice. You're fishing for another hug, are you? I enjoy your company, but I feel it best you sit this one out. What? Why? Why?
That is more than a little trepidation in your voice. I suspect you're concerned about this murder triggering some uncomfortable PTSD symptoms. Er, yeah. Well, yeah, I mean, I am guilty of a little jabbering when I'm nervous, yeah. But, you know, I can cut all this. No prob. No probster. Why are you stopping? Would you like to hold hands or talk about your emotions? Um, not right now, no. Okay, just checking.
I will get it together. I will. Yeah, so... What was I saying? Email. Ah, yes. New email address. DocJWatsonMD at gmail.com. Get in touch. Some people have been asking me for some other platforms other than Twitter. I'll have a look into that and I'll let you know ASAP. Some shout-outs to... Oh, Christ, dry mouth. To...
Shoutouts to various lovely buggers. Sorry. Sorry for calling you buggers. David Currant. Eric Deckers. Andy Chatterton. That's a lot of blokes. Let's find some girls. Charlotte Booth.
Anna Dominic, Maggie Chen, good luck with your degree and thanks for listening and sharing. Thanks to Julius who got me a cheaper mobile phone tariff, by the way. For goodness sake. Yep, some more emails here. Sean Bellis, the bellster, for whom the bell... Yep.
thanks for your email other emails Fran, Beck Smedley Catherine, yes Catherine I'll look into blue sky, never heard of it but yes, Linda in France lovely email merci beaucoup madame Linda
Just we... Oh God, we're here. We're at the bridge. Watson, I need to tell you something important before we inspect the crime scene of this brutal murder. Yeah, what is it? You don't prefix with Doctor if you use MD at the end of the name. Sorry, what? Dr John Watson MD. It's either Dr John Watson or John Watson MD. You've told me that before. I know, but it would seem you need reminding again. Yeah, well, it's the only username I could get, OK? Yeah.
Right, so let me just update the listeners. Yeah, OK, so deceased male by the name of Mateus Cardoso Gibson de Lima. Goes by Mateus Gibson, Brazilian national, lives nearby with his wife and, yeah, shot dead.
on Thor Bridge which we are on top of we're just at the northern approach yes northern approach pretty high from the looks of it over a railway line it's fairly quiet a few industrial looking buildings around and
Yeah, God. You know, one minute you're walking in the sunshine of Regent's Park with some pretty American girls. Next minute, you're looking for a corpse in the pissing rain. Oh, bugger. What? Police. Forgot about them. Oh, don't be rude to them, please. I like the police. It's their bosses that I have the problem with. Let me just have a chat with them and see what we can learn. Wait, Sherlock! Yeah, no further, please, Sherlock. Officer, a real pleasure to meet you. I...
Here. Hey. I bought you a salted maple and caramel latte. Something to keep you going through the drizzle. I know who you are. Ah, excellent. Then let me through. Excuse me. I know who you are. You can't go through. Why not? Because it's a crime scene, sir. Off you pop. Off you pop? How dare you. You just lost yourself a maple and caramel latte, sir. Sherlock. There you go, Watson. Yeah, thanks, Sherlock. Look, just come over here, will you?
Listen, that's a crime scene, not a nightclub. No amount of persuasion is going to get us in. Indeed. You're right. You're right. Long way down. Very much so. They've left the railway line open. Thought they'd have any excuse to shut it. A leaf falls on it and they shut it. A bloke? Nah. The body was found on the bridge. Surely if you'd murdered someone, you'd chuck them over the side onto the tracks. We are finally in agreeance this morning, Watson.
What are you doing? Fresh paint on the railings. Yep. Completed at the end of the summer, I'd say. Maybe early September. Yeah, it was warm then. That's when you do it, isn't it? Especially after the summer we had. Minimal sun damage to it.
Little swelling where they didn't clean and sand down the previous coat. Sherlock, I can see you. I just need to sneak under the tape. Sherlock! I won't say you again, mate. Of course. Just going to... No, no. You're not going to do anything. There we go.
Off I pop. Did you just throw a stone off the side of the bridge? Yes, I did. Right-o. The body of Matthias Gibson will be at the coroner's morgue in Wolfenstowe. Great. Sherlock, wait, don't we need to take a longer look at the crime scene? I've seen enough. But you just looked at some bloody paint. Bloody, yes. But also chipped. Chipped. Oh, God, that's too sweet, that. Jesus.
Hi, I'm Emma. Hi, Emma. I'm John. This is Sherlock. Hi. Yeah, so I'm one of the senior APTs for the Greater London Area, so I can advise yourself and the police force on the post-mortem of Mathieu's. However, the body of Mathieu's is... is formally under an active investigation by the London Metropolitan Police Service, and while Inspector Lestrade appreciates your help, she has informed us that you are not permitted...
On this occasion to a viewing or inspection of all of Mathews, okay? Ah, bugger. Okay, fair enough. We tried, eh, mate? We tried. Answer your phone. What? Oh.
How did you... Electromagnetic interference. I can hear it in your mic. It'll be Mrs Hudson. Oh, well, perhaps you'd like to bend some spoons as well, hmm? Bend some spoons? Right, so could I ask that you both leave? I like our spoons. Shh, hi, Mariana, hi. Is everything okay? I'm at the embassy now and have explained the situation to Senior Rivera and he wishes to speak to you both. Give me the phone. I... Mrs Hudson, excellent work. Put the ambassador on. What's going on? Honestly, I don't know. Mr Hudson?
Mr. Holmes? Mr. Rivera, I am very sorry to lose a Brazilian outside our borders. Let's understand what happened with Mateus' letter. I promise. I thank you and your team. You have the blessing of the Brazilian nation and your government to conduct an investigation together with the British. Please keep us informed. Good luck to you, Mr. Holmes. Bring justice to Mateus. Thank you.
Senor Rivera, thank you ever so much. We won't disappoint. Adios. Emma, on behalf of the Federative Republic of Brazil, we'd like to see the body of Matheus, if you'd be so kind.
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Excuse me, you can't be in here. I'm Sherlock Holmes. This is Dr John Watson. We work for the Brazilian government. He's right. Apparently we do. Give Martin a call. By all means. Give him our best. Cheerio. Who's Martin? Absolutely no idea at all. Probably a supervisor. This Brazil thing... Oh God, the corpse is under there. Oh, I've seen dead bodies before. What's wrong with me? Deep breath. Deep breath.
What if I freak out or something? Sorry? What if my PTSD is really bad and I don't realise it because I've been suppressing it and then I see his body and I don't know, I burst into tears or shit myself or something like on the podcast and the listeners hear it? Well, if you do, you could change into his trousers. They're on the side. You're a doctor, come on. You're a doctor and a soldier, John. Ready? Ready. Right then.
Let's take a look at Matheus. How are we doing? Yeah, okay. And your bowels? Sturdy. Again, let the record state I advised against the coffee. Right-o! Jeez, poor sod. Sorry this happened to you, mate. You may switch off your microphone out of respect, Watson. Hmm? Your microphone. Uh, well, you know, it...
I don't want to deprive the listeners. I'm sure they'll understand. It's just, this is sort of top-notch content when you think about it. I see. Oh, don't do that judgy tone of voice. This is true crime, mate. This is what it's all about, with all due respect to Mateus. And to his friends and family, if you are listening. Let's crack on, shall we? Okay, you're the boss. What can I do?
Hmm. There's the bullet hole. In the right temple. Very close proximity and a level trajectory. Meaning killer was his height. So it would seem. Entry wound around 9mm. Yeah. Looks like a .380. So 9mm but shorter and more lightweight. Think they're around 17mm in length. I can't remember. A Glock. Cheap little Glock. I reckon. Think they're called .42s?
Goodness. Wow. Watson, I often worry that my attempts to impart the discipline of deduction to you are fruitless. But you've done it. You've finally done it. You have mastered that- The bullet is here in a bag, mate. Oh. I had a Glock 42 in Ukraine. The US lot used to call it a toy gun. Mine was alright, though. How curious. What's that? So the bullet was retrieved. The bullet was retrieved from the bridge itself, not the tracks below.
Why is that, curious? Think about it, Watson. Our victim, terrified by his killer, who, according to the video, is on the northern approach of the bridge, turns to the side, back to the railing, to receive his bullet to the temple. The exit wound pointed to the southern approach, the entry wound to the north...
Doesn't make any sense. How have you got that from- It doesn't matter for now. Find his wallet, locate his identification and put his birthdate into his phone lock screen. Okay, okay, er, right. Gloves. Yep, thank you. Oh god, always in prostate exam when I hear that noise. What? Nothing, just more listener interaction. We have no signs of a struggle. No cuts, no bruises, no scuffs, no broken bones. Interesting. What's interesting? Rope burns.
On the palm of his hand. Okay, got the wallet. Fourth of June '88. Right, and the phone. Here we go. 040688. Yes! I'm in! As they say in the films. Now what? WhatsApp. Search messages for the contact Grace Dunbar. Should be near the top. That's a weird name for a bloke, innit? Grace... Wow! Grace Dunbar opened right up on the chat.
And this is the guy Mateo said was going to kill him in the TikTok. And the chat was already open. Yeah, I just... it opened up on this. Interesting. There's a message here from him, Grace Dunbar, saying he's coming to the bridge. Mm-hmm.
Now search every chat that mentions the name Grace Dunbar. Yep. Oh! What? A chat here with Nya. Grace Dunbar is mentioned over a hundred times. Could be Matthias' wife. Although recently separated. Ring finger suggests it's still rather recent anyway. Does it? Yes, it's been heavily worn but removed recently. Tan line has faded, probably due to the September weather.
But indentation hasn't quite dissipated. Yeah, you're right. In the media folder with her, there's loads of pictures together. Nia Gibson. How much did you have to drink last night? Really? We're going to do this now? How many? A couple of beers. Must be him, anyway. Your smell faded around an hour ago. My smell? Booze, Dr Watson. Booze.
The man's body reeks of it. Yeah, he did seem a bit pissed in the video. Feel his large intestine for me. Tell me if he's constipated. Oh, right, cool. Yeah, then I'll pop out to Boots and get some Senecot. That'll sort it. He'll be right as rain. Watson. Yeah, I'll pick up some paracetamol too for that bullet hole in his head. Sorry for shouting. I'll forgive you if you feel his intestine. Yeah, yeah, I'd say constipation. What does it matter, Sherlock? It matters. Everything matters.
Okay, I think you might be, I don't know, exposing yourself to too many variables here. Ah, that's one of the stupidest things you've said this morning. Oh, one of, is it? What was the stupidest thing, then? What was it that you said to Mrs Hudson this morning? Talking of stupid, for the hundredth time, it's Mariana. Ah, yes, that was it. The weather doesn't know what it's doing today.
Come on, look, that's... Mm-hmm. Yeah, but it doesn't know what it's doing. He's repeated it. It's an expression, all right? It's dry and sunny and then it's drizzle and cold and lots of rain in the night. It doesn't know what it's doing. Yet still, Senor Gibson here has a dry mouth. Yeah, panic followed by being murdered will do that to you. What's that on the side from his rear pocket? Um, envelope. Empty. Let me see.
Yeah?
So he's spent four grand in cash? I mean, none of it is in his wallet, just bank cards, ID... Uh-oh. We must hurry. What? Why? What's uh-oh? The door at the end of the hallway we came through, it had an auto-control switch on the latch. Okay, sure, and... It's to switch on the hallway lights when the door opens, to conserve energy, but then to provide lighting when someone is... Hallway lights are on, aren't they, Sherlock? Yeah.
Yep. Great, bloody great. What were you doing? Please tell me we are not shooting up. Taking some blood. Jesus Christ. Like you said, the rain washed most of this away on the bridge and I need this. Yep, someone is definitely coming. Get your laptop out of your bag, get his phone and sync the WhatsApp messages to the web app on your laptop. Now, now, now. Jesus Christ.
Got the plan. How are we doing, Doctor? Yeah, just... We can't wait much longer. Sync his Google Calendar to the office email too. One thing at a time, please. Hurry! Well, can't we just say that we're Brazilian authorities? Oh, come on, load your knob! I feel these visitors are here to revoke that particular licence afforded to us by our Brazilian friends. How much longer? Nearly. Nearly done. Oh, God, fingerprint ID required for the...
Calendar. Oh, what do we do? What do we do? His fingers are here, attached to his hands, Doctor. Oh, right, yeah. Oh, sorry, Matthias. Come on, come on. Get a move on. Nearly. Oh, piss off. Yes, I agree to the terms and conditions. Yes, done. What exactly is going on here? Ah, hi. Ah, good morning. Oh, God, what's going on? The weather doesn't know what it's doing today, does it? Can we get security? Hand me your bag.
So from what I can gather from the whatsapps, I think our victim's wife Mrs Nya Gibson
Yes.
Hey, just found some messages here. They've had a row about the affair, Mateus and his wife, about two months ago. Because he's found all sorts. One of the things he's found, he's forwarded to her, unfortunately. What is it? It's a picture. Of what? What do you think? A gun? No, not a gun. Mateus got hold of an erotic image...
that Grace Dunbar had sent to Mateus' wife, Naya. Mateus has then sent it in this chat to his wife, I guess, as kind of a gotcha. So what is the picture? Can you guess? Something from a bloke, an image...
Of a sensual nature. Like a kiss? Blowing her a kiss? No, not blowing her a kiss. This isn't an Enid Blyton mystery. Wait, wait. Who's Enid Blyton? A poem? Yeah, he sent her a picture of a poem, mate. That's it. Can you decipher any kind of hidden code within its verses? No, you idiot. He sent this. Holy crap. Oh, wow. Good lord. You two, honestly. So, er... Yeah, look, um...
I won't describe it for the listeners, but yeah, we have an affair between the wife of the victim and Mr Grace Dunbar here, who the police have arrested.
We have a video of Matthias essentially fearing he was going to be killed by Grace Dunbar in the exact spot where he was found. Not quite the exact spot. Witnesses saw Grace Dunbar approaching Thor Bridge. Yep, there's that too. And the police found a Glock in Mr Dunbar's backpack with a bullet missing. Yep. Indeed. Right. We may have missed out on this one, then. Yeah.
Maybe we could get in touch and charge a fee? Maybe just a day rate sort of thing? We will charge for solving it. It's been solved, mate. Wife's lover with the gun on the bridge. I assure you it hasn't. Bloods are done. Alcohol levels elevated. Well, yeah. Ah, there. As we suspected, Doctor. What's that? Dry mouth and constipation. They're side effects. Of antidepressants? Correct. Ah, finally.
I think we've got Matthias' Instagram here. Excellent work, Mrs Hudson. Let's see. Scroll back for me. Yes, that looks about right. What looks about right? Matthias was on antidepressants this time last year. His weight, as you'll see in that Christmas photo, and the one in February began to climb. He came off them, weight begins to stabilise...
Over the summer his posting becomes more erratic it would seem, but body weight remains stable. Yeah, okay, so he was on antidepressants, big deal. You weren't listening. I was! He was no longer on antidepressants, but last night he decided to finish an entire expired batch.
What? There was a powdery, slightly yellowed residue in his stubble. Looked like sertraline, and I can tell you, it tasted like sertraline. Not that taste would necessarily bother him as he had COVID at the point of death. So he placed the bottle to his mouth and conspired.
And consumed, I'd say, judging by this, eight or nine pills. Nothing on his phone from the NHS confirming a new prescription to pick up. Nothing in his calendar about a GP appointment. So we assume the same expired pills from the year before. And that calendar is the key to this mystery. His calendar? His Google one? Yes. Look how planned it is. And structured. A plan for every day, even the most mundane.
Lunches, dinners, walk, work meeting, big shop. And look at that. Alcohol recovery meet-up, Canning Town. Five alcohol recovery meetings in the last three months. Yet we know he drank heavily last night. Relapsing is common, so let's put that to one side for now. Because this week and the week after contain the most important diary entries. There aren't any. Correct. All that structure to his calendar, but nothing.
Nothing from today onwards. He's going through some difficult stuff, Sherlock. I don't think you can expect him to behave so normal. She's right, mate. His life is coming apart at the seams. My point exactly.
Where are you going? Watson, have you looked up Mr Grace Dunbar by any chance? Yeah, on LinkedIn, and I saw the video of him getting arrested. Quite a build on that man, wouldn't you agree? Er, yep. He's six foot four, according to the police. Yes, thank you, Mrs Hudson. Now, Watson, I kindly ask that you recall what we discussed about the bullet trajectory this morning. If you want, you can re-listen to your recording. Jog your memory. The killer was the same height as Matthias.
But Mateos is short. Sherlock, where are you going? You going down the volunteer? I could murder a pint. Watson. What? Oh, yeah, probably shouldn't say murder. Want to come, Mariana? It's my round, I think, because the other night you bought all three. Sherlock, what are you looking at me like that for? We're working, Watson. We're going to visit Mrs Naya Gibson and get some answers. Yeah, I know, I know. I was only joking about the pub. Come on, off we pop. OK, OK.
Call an ambulance! Someone call an ambulance right now! Get her out of here, Watson! Sherlock! Sherlock! It's gonna bloody explode! Oh, shit!
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