Sherlock & Co. - 23 - The Creeping Man - Part One

Episode Date: March 5, 2024

THE WHITE RAT KILLER - not really something that I expected to consume my whole week. Sherlock had reason to suspect that a particular townhouse in Kensington Gardens was not all it seemed. We followed his curiosity to the next logical point and it was there where I saw a truly chilling sight. For ad-free, early access to adventures in full go to www.patreon.com/sherlockandco Follow me @DocJWatsonMD or get in touch via email [e-mail] Listener discretion is advised. This podcast is property of Goalhanger Podcasts. Copyright 2024. ------- SHERLOCK AND CO. Based on the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Paul Waggott as Dr. John Watson Harry Attwell as Sherlock Holmes John Brannoch as Wiggins Rayner Bourton as Professor Orson Presbury Additional voices : Nutthawat C Joel Emery Adam Jarrell  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hola! Thank you to all our patrons for helping our business. Sherlock and John didn't actually work for a client in this case, so yeah, they're happy with themselves, at least. So, thank you to you for parting with your hard-earned money. We really appreciate it so much. Go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co for so much stuff. Oh, y muchas gracias a todos nuestros amigos argentinos. Sabemos que ahora mismo seis libras esterlinas son bastante dinero, así que os lo agradecemos de todo corazón.

Okay, bye guys. Enjoy the adventure. Welcome, you lot. This is the adventure of the Creeping Man. This is a three-parter, a triple threat. Brace for the F word. Also contains nudity.

But this is audio, isn't it? So, yeah, if you're offended by that, then there really is no hope for you, I'm afraid. Au revoir, mes podcasts et mes pals. Why, John? Why ruin it at the end by being weird? Balls. Balls. Balls? Balls, with a triple letter score and a double word score is 26. Not bad, eh, for a five letter word.

Seems a bit much for the word balls. Yeah, well, I know how to scrabble, buddy boy. I dabble in scrabble. More than dabble, mate. In Afghanistan, that's basically all I did. So, yeah. Lazy. What? It's not lazy. It's downtime. Lazy. With double letter score.

Oh, no. Double letter score on Z. 28. Not bad for a four letter word. Sake. Seen the email yesterday? Mm-hmm. And we don't think it's worthy of an seen the email yesterday and we don't think it's worthy of an investigation the investigation was correct

as far as I can see the victim's mother not accepting that is lamentable yes but doesn't stop it from being true ooh lament 13 excuse me what? that's cheating

no it's not it is I put letters on the board and I add. No, it's not. It is. I put letters on the board and I add up the points. That's not cheating. You stole the word from me. Oh, you invented the word lament, did you? Bastard. Hey, hey, oi. This is a friendly game of Scrabble.

Bastard. Triple word score, 30 points. Ah. Bastard. 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. Hello there London Underground fans.

Currently on the tube. And the clock has just struck shout out o'clock. So, let's go. To William Sherlock Evans. That's right, there's another Sherlock out there. To Andre in Mexico. All the way to Newfoundland in Canada for a shout out to Maya and Bingy the cat. Maya is the human, Bingy is the cat, I believe. Happy birthday to Hugo for last week. Shout out to Gaurav Nagasekar in India.

A big hello to Marion, Paul and their dog Arthur in Ramsgate. To Linda and Sarah at Bochum University in Germany. Shout out to Adam in Japan. Hey, Adam in Japan. To Maisie Tolley. To Emily Healy. Shout out to Darcy Mouse. Hello to Han, Lena and Arthur in Poland.

Hello to Sunny and Boo and of course Nono. Hi Noelia from Spain and their girlfriend Michelle from Guatemala. And hi Julia. Hope the exams and everything aren't too tough right now. Shout out to Juju in Switzerland. To Emily Brumhead. Somebody called Old Man has asked me to try and say... Was that a spell? What's up, man? Oh, shit, this is my stop. Ow! Stupid door.

Ah, Jesus. That was a good bit of podcast hosting, wasn't it? Ah, man, those doors are evil. oh anyway you can't see this but um i am decked out in the red of the mighty swindon town i'm off to london euston that's a train station uh to get the train to mansfield which is not a field full of men but a town in the north of England where's woman's field? I hear you ask well there isn't one to my knowledge

patriarchy wins again anyway I'm off to watch my beloved oh sorry escalator politics excuse me mate yeah thanks to our global listeners if you ever come to London

and please do have a nice time and everything. Enjoy the sights. But please, please, please stand on the right of the escalator. So, Mansfield Town v. Swindon Town. Mansfield is in good shape, of course. Much like Stockport and Wrexham.

Boo! Yeah, just kidding. Well, kind of. And Swindon, in sometimes bad shape, sometimes okay, I voice note from Sherlock in the group that's a first

Watson, come at once if convenient, if inconvenient come all the same God yeah, I better go. Murder. Sherlock, that's a dead rat. Slain in this very park in broad daylight. What brutish iniquity will this city visit on its inhabitants next, Watson?

It's a dead rat. He looks so peaceful, doesn't he? No. No, actually, he looks like... Oh, what's that thing he looks like? I can't remember what... A dead rat! It's a dead rat, for God's sake! Is everything all right? Look, Sherlock, look at me.

Yes, it's lovely to see you, Watson. What am I wearing? A football shirt. That's too small for you. Yeah, I got it when I was 29. But that's not the... Where did I tell you I was going this morning? Out. Yes, yeah, there was more to it than that, though, wasn't there?

Ooh, this is a real head-scratcher, Watson. I do like a mystery. The football. I was going to watch the football. Yeah, I spent 84 quid on a ticket to Mansfield, I spent 40 quid on a seat in the away end, and now the train has gone. I won't make the game and I'm staring at a dead rat in Kensington Gardens. Actually it's Princess Diana's memorial garden.

Will Mr Rat get a memorial garden out of interest? Because he seems to be of similar importance. Why didn't you go to the football? You told me to come here. If convenient or inconvenient. Well, this is terribly inconvenient for you, isn't it? Ah, OK, right. Next time, maybe, if you could specify that if it is terribly inconvenient for me,

then I don't need to actually attend the rat funeral. This is no funeral, Watson. This is an investigation. Let's take a closer look. Just as a count point, you know, just playing devil's advocate here, let's not. Let's just not. Our victim, let's call him Rathu. God almighty. A most peculiar appearance, God almighty. A most peculiar appearance. An albino rat.

Unique. One of a kind. And now no more. The events were thus. It's 2024. No one needs to be saying thus. He scuttles out from the hedgerow on the north side, so most likely he's come from Palace Green Road. Mostly embassies. Oh, so he's a diplomat, is he? Then to the rear of the properties of Palace Gardens Terrace.

Why the rear? That's nearest, of course. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself. But more importantly, he wants access to Rathew's disposal. It's Tuesday. Palace Gardens Terrace had their bins collected this morning, so it's most likely that Rathew was making his way through the waste when he was accosted. Mugged. Poor guy. Wonder why I didn't see a wallet or phone on him.

He darts. Across the road and into the hedgerow here. He scuttles out and makes his way across the paving slabs as the assailant tracks him. Here, look. The impressions on the moss. A cat. Rathu unknowingly heads towards the memorial fountain, finding himself teetering on the precipice here. He pivots away from the water's edge, scurries back towards the shrubbery, and in there he hides, wagering that he can conceal himself and escape the tyranny. He cannot run. He must hide. The cat feigns disinterest and withdraws to the hedgerow, or so Rathu believes. He exits his shrub and is stunned by a paw crashing into his back, forcing him down onto the slabs with all five kilograms of his foe pushing down on him. They both know if Rathu can turn around and bite his aggressor,

the attack would be called off. But there's no time. Two feline incisors plunge into his spinal column here and here, puncturing vital vessels, breaking his neck, severing the spine. It's over. Hmm, there's another train at 120. Good. Yeah, I mean, I'd miss

kick-off. Wouldn't be there until, like, 25 minutes in. Ah, bollocks. It's probably not worth it. I mean, that's even if the train runs perfectly, which it won't. Yeah. Sorry, what were you saying? Come with me, Watson.

Follow. Yeah, Watson. Follow. Yeah, yeah. Yeah, I love the fact they call it a fast train, but I've still got to change at Stoke and Nottingham. I'm the one running through the stations. I decide if it's bloody fast or not. This way.

The street will be over here, I bet. I mean, I'm not saying we would have won today. But I didn't see us getting beat. Injuries have cleared up, form isn't god awful like it was at the start of the season. And there, Watson. There he is. Look at him, staring down at us from his grand Georgian townhouse. Get down here and atone for your sin, you feline bastard. Licking his paws like they aren't dripping with the blood

of the innocent although what where are we palace garden terrace why because we're confronting the white rat killer up there good adventure title a Watson up where sorry there top floor window the cat cat. We shall wait. In the park. And it is us, Watson, who shall pounce. No, we won't do that. We won't do any of that. We're going to go for lunch.

Perhaps we should picnic in the memorial gardens. Right, OK, two things. First, people don't really like it when you stuff your face next to memorials of the deceased. Second, I'm not going to eat my lunch next to a dead rat. Can we stop talking about it? I'm making a point. Yeah, you're always making a point. When are you not making a point? Most of the meals you have consumed in London would be

within reasonably close distance to a dead rat. Yeah, okay, okay, yeah, I get it. I get it. I just don't want to look at Rathu. Yeah, Rathu. God rest him. While I eat. What are you thinking? Before you start, I'm asking about the food. What are you thinking? I rather like the look of the canom jeeb. Canom jeeb. Oof, a bit pricey. Oh, yay, new patron. Well, there you go. Canom Jeeb. Canom Jeeb. Oof, a bit pricey. Oh, yay, new patron.

Well, there you go. Canom Jeeb it is. They're not paying for you to eat prawn dumplings. Hello, can I get you any drinks or anything to start? Yes, a drink, yes, definitely. He says, not having looked at the drinks menu. Singer, this guy, please. Large or medium?

Well, my day is ruined, so I'll go large. And you, sir? What are you doing? Oh, my God. He just bowed. He bowed to the Thai waiter. Yes, hello. I would like the Coca-Cola and the

Canom Jeep. Thank you. I'll be back with your dreams. You. What? You bowed. Yes. So did he. Don't bow. Why not? It's very nice that you did that. Okay, it's very

considerate, but it can come across as a little insincere to people who maybe don't know you. How? It just can. Yeah, thatere, you know, to people who maybe don't know you. How? It just can. Yeah, that's, you know, I don't know, it's just a crappy thing about cultural, I don't know, imbalances. How is there a cultural imbalance?

I don't make the rules. I barely understand them, but just know that what I'm saying is accurate. I wish the world worked that way, but I'm not entirely sure it does. The world is cruel. Yeah, at times. In some places more than others. Who do you think his owner is? Sorry? The cat.

I have no idea. Ooh, beer time. Sink and a Coca-Cola. The drum team is on its way. Have you decided on your means? Er, sorry, a couple more minutes. Is that OK? Sorry. No problem.

He seemed emaciated. I looked in good shape to me. Not him. The cat. Still on the cat, are we? If he seemed emaciated, why didn't he just eat Rathu? Multiple reasons. Domestic cats wouldn't attempt it on a cleaner creature.

Let alone a rat. The cat will be aware of the parasites. Yep, gotcha. Yep, yep. Let's just shelve the parasites and rat gut chat for now. Curtains closed. And closed for some time. Bleached by the summer sun. So, closed for months.

Okay. I'll bite. You'll bite? Yep. I will have a nibble on this little morsel of bait you are offering. Please do. You're telling me one of those houses of Kensington Gardens had a cat in the window. The cat looked rough. Emaciated. Right, yeah. So, malnourished.

And what, the curtains hadn't been opened for months? Correct. Was it a residence? You know, it could be an embassy or offices or government. Residence. Weird. A much-used bike was locked outside. It wasn't sheltered during the severe winter weather.

The lock was rusted. So, bike suddenly stopped being used. There was a car, Tesla. Flat tyre, nearside front. I don't know what that means when people say that. Is that passenger side or driver side? Passenger. Gotcha.

So car, you'd say neglected as well? I would indeed say that. Obvious signs of neglect. But, as our friend Rathu pointed out, bins still being filled and collected. Very weird. Very weird. Who do we think lives there? Socially progressive. Ecologically sensitive. Electric car? Check. Bike? Check. An aptitude for innovation. Outgoing. Likes or liked to host.

Expand on that. Here. Google Street View of the property. Yeah. The imagery is assembled from a number of photos collected. If I move here... Ooh, and in the driveway. Blurred out. Licence plate is, but the company logo is not.

Aquacadabra. So, uh, aquarium supplies, I think that says? Yep. We look them up. Fairly small firm, not a particularly large team. Not based in London either. So why are they here in their van? Well, if you take the owner of the company here, Phil Grant...

What? Phil and Grant from East End, the Mitchell... It doesn't matter. Pop that into any search engine. Phil Grant, CEO, Aquacadabra. Here's his LinkedIn. Blah, blah. And here we go. Oh, that's the house.

Could not be more proud of the team following our first freshwater pool installation. The phosphate filter, low-salt hydrolysis pump and check valves assembled off-site due to their sheer size and complexity, fitted today... You get the idea. I mean, sort of. It's a natural pool, Watson. Subterranean, I'd say. Google satellite images show a hefty structural glass unit extension into the back garden.

Problem with glass extensions, of course? Heat? Well, yes. The other problem is we can see inside. Large dining table, multiple seating pods outside, along the fire pit bar and various lounging areas. So, we have a paradox. Somebody lives there, still accumulating rubbish, food waste, recycling, but it also seems abandoned. Bike neglected, expensive car left on the drive, curtains never opened, cat not being fed. Mm-hm.

A sociable and outgoing, big fancy communal area, but equally reclusive and sheltered. Yes, quite intriguing. We could pull on this thread a little more, Watson. Or you could go off to your football match. Up to you, I suppose. Well, as we've established, I can't go off to the football match, actually. An intriguing adventure within our grasp. Are we ready, gentlemen?

Yes, Watson. Are we ready, gentlemen? Yes, Watson. Are we ready? Oh, we're ready. Bring it on. Bang! Ad break. Sorry, yeah, just wanted to say that for a dramatic bit before the adverts. It'll be like, bring it on, then bosh!

Piano, violins, you know, great stuff. Because this is how you produce high quality audio drama, mate. Just order. Uh, yeah, yeah., you know, great stuff. Because this is how you produce high-quality audio drama, mate. Just order. Uh, yeah, yeah. Could I get the king prawn? Whoa, see, I can't do the minty shower wash anymore, mate. Christ, my crotch feels radioactive.

What is this? Er, football scores. You can turn it off if you want. It's captivating. Yep. What's happening now? There's been a goal at Holker Street Stadium in Barrow. What happens if there's a goal at Holker Street Stadium in Barrow?

Er, we go to a bloke freezing his arse off in Cumbria and he'll tell us if Barrow have scored or if Colchester have scored. There you go. Superb. Are we pleased with that? The goal for Barrow? Not bothered, really. But if they win, they go above MK

Don. Is that good? Oh yes, very very good. Sorry, I'm just... I was watching that. Yeah, very good. Sorry, I'm just going to... I was watching that. Yeah, but, sorry, I'm just trying to remind myself in the shower. It was Nine Palace Garden Terrace? Correct. Right, and what do we say again?

Cat, curtains, car, bike? You're flashing. Oh, God, sorry. Let me just adjust the towel. Your microphone. Your microphone is flashing. Ah, right. Yeah, that'll be battery. Iake. Your microphone. Your microphone is flashing. Ah, right. Yeah, that'll be battery. I've got new ones.

I'll, uh... Do you know what? I'm gonna... I'm gonna go get dressed. What's an acceptable length of time to wear jeans for before washing them,

do you reckon? Because I can easily go a week, you know? You're disgusting. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I mean, it's not like I'm saying underwear and

socks here this is ah jesus fucking christ what are you doing there is someone in my bed did you bring someone home with you last night maybe you forgot maybe i forgot i'm not ll cool jay sherlock i would remember it would be a pretty bloody seismic event in my life, to be honest. Christ, they're getting out. Oh, not a volume for a little guy. Are you finished in the shower, John? Wiggins! Oh, hey, about.

What the... What are you doing? Sherlock said I could have a nap. Good God. What? What is it? There's been a goal at Huddersfield. Turn that off. Wiggins, I... You can't just sleep in my bed.

I just washed those sheets. What are you getting at, Watson? No, I... You can't just sleep in my bed. I've just washed those sheets. What are you getting at, Watson? No, I... Is it because I sleep on the street, John? Is that it? No, no, no, no. Absolutely not. That's not what I was saying at all.

So you don't mind? No. Not one bit. It's nice to sleep in a bed after a bush shelter, you know. I bet, yeah. Yeah, you are welcome, matey-mate. And it's a chance to watch the smell of drunk piss off myself as well. Course, yeah, no

let me just grab those bed sheets actually gonna put a wash on. Anyone need anything in the drum? These and these please John boy. Oh, lovely yeah, Kelvin Klein's, yeah you don't see them around much do you? Must be his brother. Oh, and these. And the socks

yeah, lovely, just gonna pop these in there you're using far too much detergent believe me i am not using enough and great you're naked right do you want to jump in the shower please wiggins wiggy yous wanted to know some shite, didn't you? We wished to know about Nine Palace Garden Terrace by Kensington Gardens. We bet you do. How about we hear about it when you've got some clothes on? You're going down a rabbit hole now, boys. First things first, the house belongs to Professor Arson Presbury. Really?

Yep. The self-help guru? Self-help? Certainly good at helping himself to a load of cash, that's for sure. He's everything, everywhere, all the time. Lectures at Imperial, motivational speeches, theatre shows, TED Talks. Tell you what, if I had 10% of his YouTube downloads... You could afford new jeans. Right, OK, that was a private conversation between me and Sherlock.

So Professor Presbury lives at the house. Then why is it falling into neglect? He's rather elderly, is he not? Doesn't look it. The guy's 76. Looks 46 half the time. But that's not the mystery. What's the mystery?

Well, we spend a bit of time around Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, especially after dark. Presbury's cat can be seen lurking around there from time to time. He likes it in the memorial garden. Yeah, yeah, we witness some of his handiwork. Charlotte wants to lock him up for a life sentence. Or nine.

Nine life sentences. Because, yeah, okay, carry on on we'd feed him once in a while raggedy little skin and bone thingies toward into one night in november i'm sat there in the memorial garden with a couple of buddies of mine we're chatting shite stargazing or whatever one of the kids with us out of southern i think, I think he was, goes all quiet like. We try to get some stories out of him. Poor lad, sure, he's been in care his whole life. And now he's got himself out and onto the street. He goes green, lads, I tell you.

Every other colour slides off his face. I ask him what's up and he says he's hallucinating or some nonsense. Maybe he's taking something, maybe the cold's getting to him, who knows, right? A couple of the fellas keep on chatting. Anyways, I followed the eyes of this kid. See what he's staring at like. And I see. I look up to the top floor of your house, right?

Number nine. Palace garden terrace. What did you see? The creeping man. This is so stupid. This is how I roll, buddy.

You don't like a stakeout, then you're bouncing with the wrong partner, capiche? Stop talking like that. Your idiot podcaster has hired a car to do a er, what's it called? It's called a stakeout. This is what detectives do, mate.

He's spent £300 on some puny smart car to... Hey, give me that. Give me that. Don't tell them it's a smart car. You know, this is cool, bloody noir stuff. Yeah, staking out the house in a car. Got my black coffee. Mmm. More. Shit, that a car. Got my black coffee. Mmm.

More. Shit, that's hot. Ah, my lip. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. This is a waste of time. Oh, why do they make it that hot? Why didn't you just get the hot chocolate like you wanted? Will you shut...

Stop ruining it, mate. Ruining what? I'm a listener, right? Yeah, I'm hearing my two favourite detectives staking out the joint. What? They're drinking black coffee. They're night owls, you know, they're stalking inconspicuously in the dark London streets. And then you go, oh, they're in a smart car and he wanted hot chocolate

because black coffee gives him a bad tummy, stomach. I never mentioned the bow thing. Just, please, can we return to the stakeout? Would that be all right? How do I park this thing? Pay by phone? There's like nine apps. There's a blister on your lip.

Yeah, it's really sore. Really, really sore. What else happens in a stakeout? We... Well... Nothing. Nothing until we see something. Nothing?

Yeah, yeah. It's about being patient and not losing focus. It's about diligence, yeah? Ask yourself what you need in life. Not what you want. What you need. Because it won't be what society tells us. It won't be a car, a house.

It won't even be more followers. It will all be driven by our inner human. Our inner primate. And as soon as you can tune into that frequency and cut out the distraction, as soon as you can... Never offside. No. A colleague of mine once put it,

you can build out your brain, your mind, your whole self. How long was I out? No. Oh. Oh, hey. I'm... Oh. How long was I out? How long was I out? That's... Yeah. Um... What time is it?

Nine twenty-six. Oh. What are you watching? Live stream of our friend Professor Presbury. I wish I was friends with awesomeson Presbury, blimey. Why is that? Well, I could find out his secret. What secret does he have?

Oh, come on. 76 years old, that guy. Look at him. He looks like Brad Pitt's sexy uncle. Plus, he can fundamentally rewire people's brains. Did you know that? How so? Did you see him on This morning with that deaf Nazi? Did I see him on this morning with that deaf Nazi? Have you heard yourself? Honestly, mate, this Nazi, yeah, on this morning, deaf as a post.

Orson Presby literally talks to him for like, I don't know, two minutes. He talks to the deaf man? Yeah, because subconsciously parts of his brain can hear, they reckon. I'm calling the General Medical Council to get you struck off. Look, he talks to him on this morning, holding his hand the whole time, doing these little hypnotic taps on his wrist. Guess what? What?

Bloke can hear again. Watson. I'm telling you, Sherlock, that's what happened. And what happened to his political views? Hmm? You said he was a Nazi. Well, I think he went Lib Dem in the end. Rewired his brain. And you believe all that, do you? I mean, look, there's a lot of crap out there in this field. And, you know, yes, this morning was

a bit of a stunt, but he is genuinely amazing. Sorry, I know you don't like to hear that, but Imperial College professor, inventor, guru, I still take his supplements. Feed him my inner primate and all that. The primate. As primates, we seek connections. Sellout crowd. We seek physical exertion.

We seek challenges. Where is that? Hammersmith Apollo. Jesus, that's like 3,000, 3,500. Where is that? Thomas Smith Apollo Jesus, that's like £3,000, £3,500 You charge what? £70 a ticket What's that then if he sells that out? So that's £238,000

for 3,400 seats Wow He's there again tomorrow night. I would be, if I was collecting that much a night. You think, right? He's kind of a super brand, really. Shh, stop. What?

Look. The top floor. Wiggins was right. Better not be a cat. Oh, my... Um... That is... That is terrifying. So, the top floor there, the room with the closed curtains,

the whole floor has lights on. In the next room, there is a man, I think. He's shuffling, almost floating. Jesus, he's exactly like Wiggins said. He's skeletal, hunched over, moving like a zombie. I don't know what else to say. Who is that?

The Creeping Man. To binge this adventure in full and without ads, go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co. Редактор субтитров А.Семкин