Sherlock & Co. - Boscombe Valley Mystery - Part One

Episode Date: July 14, 2026

THE KILLING OF THE IMMORTAL MAN - To cut a long story short. Sherlock and I found ourselves at a wellness festival in the Cotswolds. Specifically.. Boscombe Valley. And.. well I don't really know how to put this.. I had a few drinks and may have killed a man. Stress the word: may. In my defence he was really smug and I had far too much to drink. Part 1 of 3 This episode contains swearing, whinging, whining, complaining and murder.Listener discretion is advised. A new clothing store has opened: www.sherlockwear.com For merchandise and transcripts go to: www.sherlockandco.co.uk For ad-free, early access to adventures in full go to www.patreon.com/sherlockandco To get in touch via email: [e-mail] Follow me @DocJWatsonMD on twitter and BlueSky, or sherlockandcopod on TikTok, instagram and YouTube.  This podcast is property of Goalhanger Podcasts. Copyright 2026. SHERLOCK AND CO. Based on the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Paul Waggott as Dr. John Watson Harry Attwell as Sherlock Holmes Shiraz Engineer as Patience MooreKarim Kronfli as Charles McCarthyStef Butler as John TurnerLeigh McDonald as Carol WatsonHimanshu Khanna as Ishaan   Additional voices Rhys Tees Adam Jarrell Joel Emery Written by Joel Emery Directed by Adam Jarrell Editing and Sound Design by Adam Jarrell Produced by Neil Fearn and Jon Gill Executive Producer Tony Pastor Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

For just six pounds a month, binge ad-free adventures in full, and have access to so much more over at patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and co. Welcome mystery lovers. It's your favourite mystery maker here. Oh, that doesn't make sense. I'm a mystery solver, if anything. It's your favourite mystery solver? Welcome to part one of the Boscombe Valley mystery. This episode contains me complaining,

which in itself obviously contains swearing. They're good buddies, swearing and complaining. They compliment each other well. So, yeah, that's about it. Enjoy yourselves. Report back for part two. And then, I think, some honey. Mm, almonds.

Crushed peanuts. For honey. Just as an adhesive, really, for the pumpkin seeds. Yeah. What are you doing? Oh, I was just talking to myself. I assume that was the case, yes. What is this thing exactly? Aren't you supposed to be the master detective that doesn't require an explanation for what he sees?

What I see is beyond even my skill to understand. Yeah, no. I'm getting healthier, so... So... So, yeah, this is my treat. It stops me from, you know, just eating chocolate or biscuits or something. That is chocolate. Yeah, dark chocolate. Cacao, mate. Cacao. This is how you justify it.

Cacao about you, mind your own business. An entire slab of dark chocolate drizzled in honey and nuts. And pumpkin seeds. Would the healthier option just be to eat nothing at all? No idea, me. You're a doctor. Which is why you should stick your nose out. I know exactly what I'm doing. Before you eat that.

I forgot what? Mrs. Carol Watson called. Called? We don't have a house phone. No. She called. you, I answered. Oh. We talked for 37 and a half minutes, or so. Also, not having to do much work there, is it? Sorry, you two, 37 minutes? 37 and a half. What was the point at hand, exactly?

Her flat-sitting responsibilities. Oh, shit. Oh, I completely forgot. We were going up north for the Norman Hartsworth case, and we already cracked old bollocks. Yes, the disappearance of Lord Royston Marchingham, who were located in his own septic tank after taking a fall. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, just shush a second, let me think. Oh, God, hopefully her train is delayed or something. I informed her. She seemed rather advocated that plans may have changed, so she's heading up all the same and advises us to take up a case elsewhere.

How are we going to do that? Mariana's way... I will peruse the unsolved cases on the bugle document she insists on having me... Yeah, yeah, you do that, and... Oh, shit, I better tidy this place. There's peanuts and almonds everywhere. I really hope you're talking to yourself again. My name is Dr John Wollinger.

Once of the British Army Northumberland Fusoleer Regiment, now a true crime podcast that are 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. Fresh sheets. There we go.

Okay, bulb in the lamp. Book on the side table I'm pretending to read. Window cell cleaned. Hoovering, done. Let's check the lounge. Gunshot holes, polyfilled and painted, photographs of various corpses removed and put away. Dogbed reinstated and Archie kicked off the couch.

And what have we got, coffee wise? Yeah, I think that's posh enough. Oh. Hello, lovely. I'm just on the way now. You really don't need to get the place spick and span for me it's no trouble at all don't worry about me I'm no bother I don't need anything put the kettle on when I message make sure you leave

instructions for your TV have you got enough milk get some if you don't keep the windows unlocked I'm having hot flushes like you wouldn't believe but don't worry about me I'm easy oh and could you grab me a paper as well oh for God's sake oh yeah shan good morning John you are very early for beer ah no No, no beers just yet. I'm actually away for the weekend, so... So where are you going? Somewhere hot, yes?

Um, do know, actually. For work? Yes, a work trip, but haven't found anything yet. But when we get something, which I'm sure we will, we will head right out. Ah, hopefully someone dies then. Fingers crossed. Um, yeah, that's one way of looking at it. I'm just going to pick up a paper.

Of course. Over there. But, um... Trying to decide how right wing I go here. Right, what have we got? Immigrants. Crime, leftists. Oh, criminal leftist immigrants. Wow, that's all three that one.

Oh god, I just... I know she's right wing, I just don't know what particular flavour she is. Does she want to get angry or just nostalgia? Not sure. Not sure. Oh, hello. What's this one? Picture of Kate Middleton, our princess. Yeah, that'll do. This is everything? Yes, and not for me, by the way, for the mother. Oh, of course. She's rural, so, yeah. Oh, fingers crossed for you. Ah, yes, for the murder. Maybe, we'll see. No, for the paper. Inside. What's inside? What this? The price. Romantic Cotswolds getaway.

Oh wow, win inside and go today, blimey. Well, unless a beautiful woman falls out of the supplement. I'm not going to be going on a... Oh my God. Oh my God, I won! I won a romantic getaway to the Cotswolds. Congratulations, John. Oh, thanks, I shan.

Wow, I never win stuff. Never win stuff. Great. Well, I guess I know what I'm doing with my weekend now, don't I? Hmm, you have a romantic trip. Ha ha ha! Yes I do. With who? Sherlock? Yes.

Um, did you find a case? I'm in the process of narrowing down a few, yes. Would you prefer a murder or a robbery? I just don't know if I'm feeling all that... ...murgery. Um... Yeah, not me, neither. Listen, I don't...

Don't really know how to say this, to be honest. Do you want a... Do you want a romantic getaway in the Cotswolds? When? Now. Where? Cotswolds. It's an area of nearly 800 square miles.

Oh, um, Boscombe Valley. Boscom Valley Wellness Festival. What's romantic about that? Honestly, I don't know. It's been a while. Uh, but we've got a tent. That's a faux-Mongolian yurt. Oh, okay. Well, we've got a yurt. And a welcoming pamper yourself beautiful kit.

and there's, um... I don't know, everything looks like either a sauna or a hot tub, to be honest, but they're calling them different things like curing chamber and spirit pools. You want to go to a wellness retreat? No, I don't, to be honest, but I definitely do want free stuff. I see. So, what are we thinking? The Boscombe Valley Wellness Festival comprises of over a dozen live talks,

including Helen Bryant, Musaya, Dr. Graham Carney, Johann van Glob Glob And the immortal man, Charles Somebody blah blah blah blah blah Wellness Fair where the very latest high and low tech remedies are on display

bathing pods Curing wells Sensory Studios Steam Rehabilitation Chambers Kienel Yoga and Pilate Studios as well as meditation retreats

I have read it Good sake right Well there you go mate Sounds pretty good doesn't it Better than attending some nasty murder. Is it? I thought you weren't feeling murdery, hey? Let's be open-minded. You despise these people? I don't despise anyone. What did you say about that man over there when we boarded the train? Ah, come on. You said he was an inconsiderate wanker, merely because he tied his

shoe. He didn't just tie his shoe. He boarded the train and tied his shoe in the communal landing area of the train where busy people were alighting from Paddington. A lighting means getting off the train. Boarding, I mean, he was right in the road. He was right in the the way. Get in your seat and tie your shoe in your own space on your own time. Wanker. And you expect that your wafer thin tolerance for the upper classes and their spiritual indulgences will be able to last five minutes at this Boscombe Valley Wellness Festival? Yes, I do, mate. Look at this, Bel-end. Look at that. Here he goes. In his six minutes, so you can shut it. Look at him, he's got garlic clothes on his head.

I'm sure there's some medical reasoning for an array of garlic clothes in that crowd on the Yes, well, I'm a doctor and there isn't. Hello there. Hello there. I'm patients. Yes, hi. I've got the competition code here. Well, I cannot yet welcome you to Boscom Valley Wellness Festival. Oh, sorry. When do you open? In order for us to welcome you, you must arrive fully. Arrive? Yes. Fully. At the festival? Yes. Yes. Uh, am I missing a limb or something? I'm sensing that you have only allowed a small part of you to arrive,

and you have not left the outside world behind just yet. Give yourself permission to reconnect. Sorry, can you just scan the QR code on the thing? Let's see if three grounding breaths will allow you to arrive in full with us here today. Shall we do that? If they want to take our phones, why don't they just say, give us your fucking phones when we arrive at the festival? Arrive fully, I mean, Jesus Christ.

Train costs 109 quid. I should fucking hope I've arrived fully, or I'm getting a fucking refund from train line. It's rather difficult to ascertain what exactly is harder to deal with. You or them. Look, it's different for you. How is it different?

You're the first to admit you can tune into a different reality. Focus on a multitude of things. I just see their stupid face is telling me my spirit has been dulled. Well, of course it has. I support Swindon Town in England for a start. I've been blown up, shot twice, I pay a fortune in rent. I don't understand modern politics. I don't understand the business world.

I don't understand old people. I don't understand young people. AI keeps telling me my emails are shit. My bills are going up despite everything I own having an eco mode. The council charge me more money for fewer bin collections. I haven't got used to five pound pints yet, let alone. six, seven and now eight. This is...

This is good. This is good. Very good, indeed. It's always best to be in a sauna by yourself, I find. It's a floating, high-temperature, non-active resting space. It's a sauna. You're not in a sauna by yourself. Oh, no, you're fine. You're fine.

It's just when someone else is in, you know, you can feel a bit... A bit competitive, can you? Can you? Yeah, like, uh, you know, who can handle it the longest kind of thing. Whereas this, this is great, we just get to sit, and then when we're ready... Which I am. Aha, great. We get to... Dive in the bathing ponds.

Go on then. Oh, it's going to be bloody freezing. The whole point of floating sauna was to jump in, now jump in! Okay, I'm doing it. I'm doing it. Sit there, listeners. Cannonball. Oh! Ah, that is bloodied. Greetings. Good God. Oh, good. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm patience more.

Running this festival and of introducing this man. You know his books. You know his videos. You know his videos. His lectures. His lectures. And if you come to this Boscombe Valley Wellness Festival often, you will know these brilliant talks. A proud wellness guru and an even proud of Sagittarius. It's the immortal man himself. An immortal gentleman. He doesn't look that old. I feel that may be the point.

Oh, I see. Boscom, including myself, is a spirit. is a spiritual home. Back in the 1960s, these fields and forests nurtured souls that changed the world. In the 70s, the rivers and bathing ponds cleansed the skin of some of the greatest artists the world has ever known.

And alas, not known. In the 80s, its bird song and call of its many insects and critters sang into the minds of our great thinkers. The 90s! well, splattered my children. Boys and girls that would have the whole single man. As part of my audience, one single man to do the same. I look out with eyes as fresh as back then,

bones and muscles just as firm a heart, beating at a healthier rhythm in clearer arteries. And I see, I still will always talk to you. We think that living forever means staying young. We must grow up. We must be serious. Immortality is not infanticism. It is not a permanent state of childhood.

I saw the bathing ponds earlier. Some fellow jump in and say, Catonborg! Was he a child? Dave off the world to treat himself as one? Of course it does. Two organic lagers, please. What a total bell-end.

No, not you. What sort of wellness retreat serves alcohol? That's £20, please. One that can charge £10 a pint from the looks of it. Cheers. Cheers. There he is, look. Yes, I see him.

Yeah, of course you do. You see everything. Let me tell you something, mate. I'm not a child. I'm a detective that saves lives. I bring justice to the world. I serve others. Who does he serve?

What does he do? There's no honour in trying to live as long as you can. That's just... That's selfish. He's wearing some kind of magnetising device on his forehead. Oh, you mean the device that repairs ageing cells, do you a favour? You're drinking rather fast. Oh, I'm not.

holiday. Yes, well, I'd rather you told yourself that. You'd have nothing but complain. Not true. In the sauna, I didn't. Yes, and then you jumped in the ponds and said it was too cold. Not in a complain anyway, though. Uh, rather one-sided, deep grief of the events. Oh, fine, fine, I'm gonna be happy. I'm gonna be a... fun-loving wellness freak. I'm gonna embrace my

inner spirit. We can try, can't we? Sure, sure. And, you know, I think the best thing for your spirit is spirits. What? Excuse me, mate, couple of those shops, please. Ha ha ha ha, yes. They're in there. He said they were detectives. Did they know?

The short one just went nuts at Charles McCarthy last night in the bar. Broilin? I don't know, don't know, but... But he was drunk and loud and was calling him very unpleasant things. It's a yurt. There's an open year. Thank you. What's this?

Podcasters. Right then, sir! Who the hell are you? I'm Officer Morton. And you? are under arrest for the murder of Charles McCarthy. What? Hear that?

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You have failed to establish motive. You have failed to establish a motive. opportunity, timeline, provenance of any physical evidence, in fact you can't name any, you do not have a single independent witness capable of placing Dr. Watson at the scene of the crime. This rather bizarre investigation appears to have begun with a conclusion and worked backwards in search of supporting facts. You have arrested a man that documents his own movements, extensively so, you have failed emphatically in every single consideration one must undertake while investigating, and you have failed also in its aftermath? Have you questioned what happens

now? Have you asked yourselves in your little police station next to a farm supply shop and a co-op, a defence solicitor might make of this. A judge, what the press may ask. Tell me, have you conclusively established the time of death? I just run the front desk. I don't... Get me an officer. Thanks, mate. No, thank you, John. That rant expelled my rather stubborn hangover entirely. You're welcome, I suppose. What the hell is going on? I think, my dear Watson, we both know exactly what is going on. Do we? Yes, that old familiar feeling, warming our stomachs, lifting the hairs on our necks,

tickling us between the shoulder blades. The game. She is afoot. Watson, is she not? She might just be, Sherlock. She might just be. Tell you what, I am coming round to this festival, because I've never had such exceptional treatment for a hangover before. I've steamed myself like a dumpling in some eucalyptus mist,

massage, some weird green drink that has electrolytes. And now a murder. I would argue it couldn't really get better, could it? Well, I mean, you know, friends and family of the deceased might not feel that way, mate. That's what I find interesting, Watson. Oh yeah? This morning, when you were locked up by the local constabulary

for murdering Charles McCarthy. Which I didn't, but carry on. You are a suspect, and I will eliminate you in due course. Oh, good sake. Could you remove the mint and parsley face mask? It's rather distracting. Well, I'm talking to Shrock. Shrek. And no, I have to leave it on for another 13 minutes.

You are aware that one contains snail secretion. Snail... Is in snail, slime? Yes. Oh, for fuck's sake. Anyway, last night, I noted those closest to Charles at both the bar area and at the Tibetan fire ritual and the stargazing experience. Yeah, well, is a Tibetan fire ritual and stargazing experience?

Yes. Jesus, I do not remember those. You don't have those. because I do, my hungover companion. This morning I surveyed the mourners, hundreds of the festival goers, in tears, in prayer, in silent reflection and grief. But those that should have been most impacted,

those that should have displayed their pain most noticeably. What? I failed to see grief and hurt. From his closest friend. Can we substantiate that claim? That they're his friends? Indeed. I feel like you're going to ensure that we do.

I absolutely absolutely. Oh, where are you going? To the bathing ponds. The one's cordoned off by the police, you mean? Yes. Great. What's up? Oh, fishermen.

Oh. Oh, hello. Wow, you've got good earring. Works wonders in the fishing game. You've got a face mask too. Yeah, camouflage makeup. Pike and Trout will spot you on the bank like that. I'm usually right under Iron Bridge in Shropshire.

It dazzles their view. Pikes, anyhow. But on the bank like this, camouflage. Best way. Which mine was as cool, but apparently it keeps me young, so... Don't mind us. We will permit your hobby, if you permit ours. You caught me. I'll turn a blind eye, don't worry. You, um... taking a look at the...

The murder, yes. All cordoned off down there, isn't it? Yeah, sorry, hi. John. How did... No, that's my name. Ah, well, that's mine too. This is Sherlock. Good to meet you.

Tell me, John, what do you do aside from fish in the Boscom Valley bathing ponds? Ha, I'm... I'm an app developer. Well, I... worked for Charles. You made his app? And the rest? Yeah. God. Sorry, John. Your team has gone through a lot in the last few hours. Awful. Yeah, just...

Are you guys the detectives? We are... Picking up... on what I'm picking up on? Which is what, exactly, John? The muted response of his entourage. Exactly that. I include you in it, I'm afraid.

You were in the same rabble most of last night, were you not? I was. I was. Look, difficult man. A really bloody difficult man. I'm not saying it's warranted. I'm not forgiving whoever did. it but he kept his enemies close. By God. He was... Oh shit, police have spotted us.

Bagger it. Get yourself on the riverbank over there. Cool, cool. I better... Scarper myself. Of course, go John. Good to meet you. Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you too, mate. Thoughts? Two suspects. Both named John. Shut up. So, multiple people in his inner circle hated him. hated him. Certainly seems that way, from what I gather. Patient, the lady that reluctantly touches into the festival, is firmly in his orbit.

Yep, and she tried to get me arrested for it. Indeed. Then there's a fellow I saw this morning that struck a remarkable resemblance. I had the chance to look up Charles while at the police station. He has a son, Jack. Mm-hmm. Also seemingly unmoved by the events. Interesting. Our fisherman friend was right.

An excellent view from here. Ah, okay. You see it? They found his body over there. In the water? No. That is, in fact, the first curious little feature of this murder. Because if you killed him, you'd weigh him down with those rocks and chuck him in the lake.

You're moving up my list of suspects, Watson. Will you? The body of Charles McCarthy lay there, where those little yellow markers are from the crime scene unit. Uh-huh. The shoreline is around 150 centimetres in depth, uniformed the whole way round and populated with these pebbles. Yep. They're just a top layer. You see? If I pick on up. Ah, okay, just slushy mud underneath.

Decorative. Imported. Ha-ho, not very organic and natural, is it? Well now, what is this? What you found? A man. A half man, to be exact. It's warm. Warmer than the surrounding pebbles. Let me see so I can make some sense of the nonsense coming out of your mouth.

Oh, yeah, that's a half man. Brass. Just under two inches high. Like a figurine. It snapped at the waist. And I'd say we have some specks of blood on it too. Shit. In the pocket.

For now. No, in the evidence bag, the police one. No, no. I couldn't possibly. I've already touched it. You've breathed on it. It's compromised. It would be unprofessional. Sherlock.

Now, from what I overheard this morning, his body was found face down. No weapon found at the scene. No phone found on him, hence the diving operations in the lake. Sorry, how much did you get done this morning before getting me out of prison? You weren't in prison. You were in a holding cell. Seriously, how long? Oh, two hours, I'd say. Why didn't you just come and get me?

Well, I needed to make sure you didn't kill him. Ha ha ha, for God's sake. Body, face down. A head wound from one single violent blow. No signs of a scrap? None. Whereabouts on his head? The back.

Okay. So, ambushed? In the night, on the shore of the bathing ponds. But who would kill the immortal man, Dr. Watson? For method and means are mere side dishes to this main course. Of... Of motive. A delicious, perfectly cooked rump of motive with all the trimming.

You haven't had breakfast yet, have you? Absolutely starving. Right, there's food trucks over there, and then that's like a big food market tent thing. Excuse me, excuse me. No, go away. I didn't kill him. No, no, I know. They said you were the detectives.

Who is they? This morning, upon entering your yurt... You wish to distance yourself. Sorry? I heard your voice this morning. You told the police of my friend here and his potential role in the killings. of Charles McCarthy?

No, no, no, no, look, please. Why would you even think I'd do that? I didn't, I didn't. I mean, I mean, I did. But you have to believe me. I, I, I am... Why would people believe you now? Because...

Because I was blind. And now I can see, because I have opened my eyes. Please, I do... Um... No. Bye-bye. I know who did it. Uh-huh.

Best of luck with that. I'm listening. But Sherlock, come on. She's a suspect, not a bystander that gets to conjure up little stories whenever she wants. I was in denial. Last night, early this morning, I was in denial. But I have meditated on it. Oh, please.

Then I know who killed Charles McCarthy. Who? That man over there. By the fire pit. In the orange jacket? Yes. Oh, yeah? Who's orange jacket, man?

Someone else you want out of the way? No, no, no. Not at all, not at all. He's a wonderful man, but that is Jack. Jack McCarthy, Charles's son. To binge this adventure in full, and without ads, go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and co. Hey y'all, it's Kelly Clarkson with Wayfair.

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