Sherlock & Co. - The Beryl Coronet - Part One

Episode Date: February 3, 2026

DOUBLE BOOKED - Hopkins had alerted us to an intriguing murder involving a man, a dog and a strangulation. I had been anxious about the lack of content coming our way in a sluggish January so this was just what the Doctor (me) ordered. My two stupid colleagues had other ideas. Apparently antique bookshops and family melodramas are more interesting. Whatever. Part 1 of 2 This episode contains swearing, references to death and murderListener 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 Marta da Silva as Mariana Ametxazurra Gareth Charlton as Alexander Holder George Still as Francis Prosper Lauren Ingram as Michelle Holder Kieran Wesley as George Burnwell  Written by Joel Emery Directed by Adam Jarrell Editing and Sound Design by Holy Smokes Audio Produced by Neil Fearn and Jon Gill Executive Producer Tony Pastor Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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This adventure isn't very good. To be honest, not the adventure I wanted. But the adventure I deserve, and what you deserve to, apparently. Gonna upload this, then probably turn my phone off just in case. Goal hangar. I don't know, annoyed. I did a case entirely from a bookshop. Um, swearing in this mentions of a corpse and murder, but don't get too excited.

Yeah, bye. Holder's books. In here. A, but, but, a crime scene to get to. Mariana, bloke found in bushes, strangled to death with a dog lead. Dog poo bag over his head? No, I know, I know, but I'll be so quick. Sherlock, tell her, mate. Oh, they sell antique books.

I wonder if they have Carth and Elle Munle's a practical compendium of cordage or rope-making and twine. Oh, sounds thrilling. Yeah, I can film a heart racing already. Wait until you see the price. Never heard of the expression, money for old rope, mate? I haven't. Mm, clearly.

My name is Dr. John Watson, once of the British Army Northumberland Fusolier 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. Hopkins is saying the dog poo bag is lavender scented. I could explain the blemishes on the face of the corpse, but not the blue dye on the neck.

Mariana, Mariana, the dog poo bag on the bloke's head. Yes, I heard you. Please shush. Oh, can we please just get this book and go? What happened are you going to the library every week? The library doesn't have the book I want. What book? Exactly. The theoretical history of table legs from 1804.

What? Just hurry up. It'll be here somewhere, I think. Can you see up there on the top shelf? Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha, very funny. Here, try these. Where did you find high heels? Right on the shelf, behind this book.

Books and high heels. Go along with that business model. They've been left here. and I should put them back. So you're going to reach up there or... Okay, goodbye. Where are you going? Um, you know, I think I'm going to go and see if I can strangle myself with Sherlock's new rope-making skills.

I'm so dramatic. Oh, steady there. Excuse me. Sorry. Yeah, no, head through. I mean, the only people not rushing around in this bookshop are you and Mariana. The same people that, oh yeah, have been asked to get to a crime scene as soon as possible. Hmm. Great, is it a good, is it mate? Manley's work is the best.

Well, you should probably buy it. The shop owner looks pretty stressed over there. Right, Hopkins now saying that the dog is called Muffin. It's a zoo poo. Guessing that's it. Shih Tzu poodle? I suppose they're not going to call it a shit poo, are they? Oh, what you got there?

He's a lovely little fluffy thing. What is he? Oh, he's a shit poo. half Shih Tzu, half poodle. You want to give him a stroke? No thanks. Shh. Sorry. Hopkins was saying that the body twitched earlier, kicked the leg out and got Gregson right in the face as he was inspecting it. Sir.

Basic assault of a police officer. That's six months if he's not careful, eh? I find this corpse guilty of... Shh! Yes, all right, sorry, sorry. Let's... Okay, let's go. All done. Buy the ropebook. Come on. It's two thousand pounds. Come on. What? You're not even reading anything, mate. And you've got a hearing age. Just turn it down.

The book is £2,000. Okay, right. Well, put it back. Go and solve this crime. Get paid. Come back, buy your book. I'll even shell out five quid for the holder's book's tote bag for you.

Oh, oh, can you get the tote bag with the bike and flowers on it? Please. It's super cute. Sorry, we're not going to shush her, mate, or... It is important for a detective to familiarise himself with thorough works such as this, Watson.

Yes, right, but it is also important for a detective to visit the dog poo bag crime scene. He wasn't killed by the bag. He was strangled. You can tell from the original photos, Hopkins Sent. Yes, we've seen the photos. Great, lovely. Now it's time for the real thing. Okay, chop, chop.

Excuse me? Ah, all right, I get it. It's a book shop, mate. I'll keep my voice down. You know, it's not the Sistine Chapel. No, no. Did you say you were a detective? I am indeed. Yeah, and a bloody good one, aren't you, mate?

Oh, well, that's fantastic news. I require your services immediately. Do you now? No, wait. I mean, he's crap, terrible. Worst Detective ever. Best detective ever. He's fictional?

Fictional, but the best. Right, Michelle? Absolutely right. How can he be the best if he's fictional? He even has a statue in Primrose Hill, where he resided and solved over 120 crimes. Hmm. We should probably save statues for real people who do real things, really.

It's just my opinion. Huckton Bruce and the Escobade of the Cannon Street Cracksman. Oh, one of my absolute... favorites. I remember reading his cases when I was a boy. I rather enjoyed his steely approach to even the most tragic and heartrending of crimes. Yeah, it's quite, it's iconic, isn't it? Michelle, could you get your father? I think he's had quite enough of me badgering him today. Get him for what? We will need, oh, well, the detectives here will need him to understand what has happened. I think we should wait Francis. You never know.

Michelle, please. You must. Okay, okay, all right. All right. One second. That's Michelle Holder. Bookshop manager. Oh, and she owned the place? Her father does. You'll meet him shortly. She's done an amazing job in here, and so many followers.

Yep, she's killing it. Yes, she's very talented, very driven. I love the detail. put into every part of the store. The suggestion notes and the stories behind the stories, it's so cool. So, how many Detective Huckton Bruce's stories are there? Well, that is the prescient question, Dr. Watson.

Is it? You're going to need a plaster for that. You've bitten your nails so thoroughly you've drawn blood. Right there. Oh, goodness. Here, I've got a tissue. Sorry, you gave me a name and I... Francis. Francis. Prosper.

Francis, yes. There you go, mate. Thank you. This is... The whole thing is some nightmare, you know. Some nightmare. Goodness gracious me. Everything all right? Mr. Prosper?

Well, it's more of a waking day, mayor. In a way. I, um... Well, last night. Right here, there was a moment when I glanced at it, and it was totally gone. So what was totally gone? Totally and utterly gone. But I, it, it returned.

Well, in part. Mr. Prosper? Michelle, I really, please. Here. Ah, Alex. Alexander. This is... Not now, Francis. I think George is on his way in, and I'm fucking bricking it, to be honest.

with you. God Almighty! No, no, no. This is... Sherlock Holmes. Apologies, yes. Sherlock Holmes. And John and Mariana. Hey. Everybody. This is Alexander Hilda. Yes. Hello.

Hi. Nice shop. Yes, thank you, madam. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm either going to throw up, shit myself, or all of the above. The forewarning is much appreciated, Mr. Holder. Dad, Dad. Let's just breathe. Just breathe. Yes, I'll breathe in the laboratory.

Thank you, Michelle. Alexander, just hold on one moment. Can we give my dad some space, Francis, please? Exactly. I have just lost literally millions of... He's a detective. Francis! This man. Here, Sherlock.

He says he is. He's not police or anything. Would you just lay off the escapades for a while? Will you, Francis? This is a profoundly serious. I'm being serious. Mr. Holder, you are missing something. If you had any idea, sir.

I have more than an idea. Not quite something. No, you are missing part of something. But what missing piece could cause you such terror and bowel activity? Well, I'd venture, or rather like the mighty Huckton Bruce would say in his famous escapades, have a jolly good punt, and say that it has something to do with that eight inch by eight inch glass case atop that plinth behind you, lit up as part of a presentation by the back wall. I still see what looks like a manuscript inside, but the glass case, although identical

on all sides, is the wrong way round. What? The plated side, that should forward face, has a magnification of around 1.5 times, that of the other pieces. It allows for observers to pick out, often intricate and decayed wordings from aged papers such as what I can see housed ever so proudly in there. How can you see that from here? France is here, who doesn't usually bite his nails. You can tell by his front teeth, no worn enamel at all, has chewed every single one down to a nub.

In between bites, he has got us all rather excited about the works of Huckton Bruce. My companion, just this moment, asked how many Huckton escapades there are, and he described that query as prescient. Did he now? I think we could go for one more final punt, couldn't we, Mr. Holder. There are not, as is well known, amongst literary fans. 48 Hutton Bruce stories, but there are in fact 49. And the 49th story is sat right there in its highly secure, alarmed and reinforced glass case.

Hmm. Now, I would say in its entirety, but that would not explain the tension in the room, nor the misaligned viewing glass, and the smudged prints on its surface, would it? Wow. There it... Oh, my goodness. Hey? Don't, just... Oh, come on.

This is just like... Don't touch me. This is serious. And this is a serious detective. Yes, yeah. That needs to be a serious crime scene. Ah, Alexander. Shit, shit, shit, triple shit.

Dad, dad, I can speak to George. I'll speak to him. Sorry, who's this guy coming in? He's right. Okay? He's bloody right. Shelford is right. Sherlock.

Yes. Sorry, you're right. We have a lost manuscript by Sir Edward Gorman accredited and verified literally 46 hours ago by anthems. The real deal. Absolutely. There's a BBC thing coming out about it. We've had a special meeting of all the Huckton groups around the world just last night. And that man there.

Ha! Afternoon, George! Is George Barnwell, and he is here to give us three million fucking pounds. For what? For the manuscript in that glass case.

The lost manuscript now found Huckton Bruce and the Escapade of the Beryl Coronet, written in 1892 by Sir Edward Gorman in his own hand. But never published. Bugger me. Shh, God's sake.

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Please sit and enjoy. Please sit and stretch. Steep. Flip. Or that. And enjoy. Via Rail, love the way. How strong do you reckon a shit poo is?

I mean, thinking zoo poo. because could the guy have been bending down to pick a poo or whatever and muffin the zoo poo comes over all fluffy and innocent then bam the lead gets wrapped around his neck by accident dog freaks out tries to leg it across the park which tightens it right then it's you know he's trapped then he's being strangled he's like oh oh fuck then muffin's freaking out right but it's making everything worse he's like uh yeah yeah then then he dies

and they find him in the bushes. An hour later. What a lovely story. Well, come on, it's, you know. Do we then suppose that Muffin untied one of her waist bags and placed it over her owner's head as a mark of respect? No. Ah, good to know you haven't completely lost your mind.

The dog poop bag, people tie them to the lead, don't they? So they'll always have them. In the chaos, it comes loose and gets over his head. The remarkable work of fiction, Watson. I'm impressed. Well, at least I'm thinking about a real case. This is a real case, too. See? Glass case, very funny.

This is not urgent. Murder is urgent, and you're ignoring it. I thought it was a chaotic accident, not murder. You know what I mean? Hopkins messaged me, by the way, and I know he's messaging you as well. The victim is a vicar, Sherlock. A vicar, mate. Church warden.

What's the difference? He's a volunteer. Oh, right, so church volunteer, strangled to death. Yeah, sod him. He's not even on the... payroll next. John. What? There are many, many highly stressed individuals in this antique bookshop. If we could reduce that mass by one, I would greatly appreciate it. I am following the gruesome circumstances of Charles Ryan, I assure you. All right? Who the hell is Charles Ryan?

Our dead churchwarden in Lambeth. So you can stop calling him the dog poo bag man now, can you? Mr. Holder? Yes, yes, yes. What can I do? How is your buyer? George, he's doing all right. Michelle is just stalling him, showing him some of our other collections, but he has to leave at five with this. Well, he'll be bitterly disappointed. He's missing 7.69% of it. What?

If you were listening, Watson, you'd know that three of the 39 pages of this fabled lost manuscript have been stolen. Just three pages? Yes, that's right, yes. What? Ones? It was... Let me think...

Pages 3, 18 and 35. Anything particularly important about those pages? There is a rather ingenious moment on page 18, actually, where the Inspector of Birmingham Police... No, Watson, nothing important. Right, okay, Alexander was just saying to us that there was an ingenious moment or... Yes, I know, but Alexander...

Alexander Holder here is a fan of the original work. That is Francis, and it would seem Bichelle, too. We are surrounded by adoring enthusiasts of Huckton Bruce and the works of Sir Edward Gorman. They are blinded zealots. It's a reference to when Huckton solves the St. James Affair case, and he refers to a blind zealot who doesn't realize that... That's quite enough.

My point is illustrated, and I must return to the cold facts of the case. Francis? Yes. Yes. Did you find the pages? No. Tell me, the method of our great hero detective, what steps would he have taken at this point?

At this point? Yes, we have met the problem at hand. Where then does the impeccable Huckton method take us? The, um... Oh, well, the exactment. The exactments, yes. Could you take us through them, Mr. Holder? Um, uh, from...

From what point? Sorry, exactment? Well, it's what Huckton's. Huckton would call the facts of a case. Its first meant to... The exactments, Mr. Holder. From the last time you saw this glass case, in its correct state, with all 39 pages held inside it.

Oh, okay. That was... There was a special reading. Last night for the Hucktonians. God Almighty. Well, they paid good money. I don't doubt it. Some flew in from the United States.

Even China and Japan. It was... It was an amazing group. We had Jeffrey Moore read it. He was, well, in 1971, he played Huckton in. Yeah, okay, he read it. He finished. We had arranged for some refreshments afterwards in the reading nooks and the seating area

by the front window, by the door where you came in there. We, I put the manuscript back into its glass case. There was drinks and mingling and we took photos. Didn't see or hear anything under Ward. Had a great night. I locked up and all the pages were there when I did. Stop. You're certain.

You spotted nothing unto Ward. Absolutely certain. Absolutely. 100% without a doubt, certain. Continue. Um, that's, that's it. That's the last time you saw it. Last night.

Correct. You okay, Sherlock? Bring your daughter in here. She's rather busy keeping George Bernwell company and he's yet to be informed. In here now. Why, why exactly do we need to speak to Michelle? Because if I can't get the truth out of you, I'd rather hope she can. Excuse me.

now just to... Fine. Watson, we have a murder to attend to. Oh, finally. Let's go, big man. See your Hucktonians. Hey? No, no, no.

Turn around, we're leaving. Oh, okay. Goodbye. Best of luck. Please, this is... God, you have no idea how valuable this is. I have an exact idea. Three million pounds.

No, no, no. To the, well, to our community. To our, well, to the people who would give anything for more of these stories, these characters. People give much more for truth. And Alex, Alexander Holder here won't grant us that. Yeah, and if you're going to lie to my friend, you can huck off, eh?

Hey? Right, come on, T. Alex! Alex! Is everything all right? What's going on? God, above. George, could we? We would like a little more time with the Beryl Coronet. Just to ensure...

What are you talking about? I'm picking it up today, aren't I? Please, we... The banks. The banking. What are you talking? Bye. Bye. I really hope it all gets. The money transference.

to be um they're not you see well in order to all right fine fine fine fucking fine dad please mr holmes please pretty pretty fucking pitiful pathetic please please please stay please sorry make me give me the truth you know what email it yeah okay come on guys my brother there thank you what what the hell Was he here? Our mother would read Huckton's stories to us when we were boys. Was he here? Last night, Dad, that criminal. You came, didn't you? You watched the reading.

He never once did anything. Where was he? Where was Mike? He watched from upstairs on the mezzanine balcony. You actually heard him from me. This is... You are unbelievable. You said, no, I'm the manager. And I, no, I'm done.

Done. Miss Hell, wait. The lady is not that young, said I. She is four and 20 years old. What are you doing? Reading, seeing what all the fuss is about kicking off with the escapade of the Lord Mayor's Mayor. Can you read in your head? Do you think they actually spoke like that in 1894 and 20 years old?

Oh, your birthday's in May. Is it John how old you're going to be? Me? Ah, yeah, seven and 30 years, you? I like it. I like the way the world. shift around and take on different meanings. I like that not everybody spoke the same.

Where's that shush a now, exactly, I mean, I get shushed for clear in my throat. What the f... Sherlock, I know that was you. It's not funny. Hi, hey, mate. Hi, hi, I didn't get a chance to probably meet you. Oh, John, this is Mariana, that's Sherlock over there. Hi. George Bernwell.

So, the detective. detectives, right? You're the pros? Ha, yeah, no. Well, yeah, we are. Uh, yeah. I mean, the real detective is... Oh. The lock. Hello that. The guy crawling around by your feet. Okay, well, yep.

Excuse me. I just need to get a book at the bottom of his shelf. Oh, oh. So sorry. No, no. Stay where you are. I'll reach past your crotch. Waste, I mean... Why are you on all fours sniffing? Ah, got it. All done.

We just needed this. A book. Guide to phrenology. Yep. Thank you. I... Wow, okay. Um, somewhat dated concept?

Uh, yes. Well, I prefer to study our ancestors, not judge them, Mr. Bernwell. So, um, I assume it's all a passion of yours, George. Phrenology, no, no. Um, no, not remotely. No. No, no, no, sorry.

Detective stories. I should hope so for a 3 million quid purchase. Ah, right, yes, I see. No, actually, no, no. Not really. No, they never really did anything for me. Oh. I admire the works. Don't get me wrong.

It's preservation. I run a trust, you see, philanthropic trust that ensures, well, I suppose what we would call a significant cultural asset doesn't end up in some billionaire's bank fault, but actually for everyone to see and enjoy from any background. That's good for you, George.

Thank you. So, yes, I, uh, perhaps I'll get into it after this little investigation, won't I? Right, that's it. Alexander and Michelle Holder, please get down here right now. Hey, mate, you're okay? Just accelerating matters, Watson. Oh, now you're talking. Right?

Nobody is leaving this shop. Ah, we have a mystery, ladies and gentlemen. Three pages of the Beryl Coronet are missing. Here we have Alexander Holder, the proprietor of Holder Books, an antique bookshop that acquired a long-lost manuscript of a significant literary figure. We must remind ourselves Alexander Holder is a man we just caught in the act of lying. Excuse me now, hold on a second. Hardly surprising, Mr. Holder, when you acquired a possibly priceless manuscript for...

18 pounds. It is my job, however... 18 pounds, goodness me. What did you tell the old woman who had it in her attic, by the way? That it would be worth nothing and you'd selflessly take it off her hands? Yes, thought as much.

We have Mr. Francis Prosper, the keenest of Houghtonians, co-chair of the fan club, chairman of the Houghtonian Society, a fellow bidder for the manuscript unusually racked with nerves this afternoon, and, rather curiously, I noted, the owner of a counterfeit watch

suit and glasses. I beg your pardon. Don't pull on the breast pocket fibres, Mr. Prosper, you're only making it worse. No. And we have the offspring. The next generation of holders, Miss Michelle, Holder, a young woman, keen enthusiast for the original works, a proud manager of this shop, hired, of course, by her father, but perhaps her life would be more successful outside of these walls.

Ambition drips from every welcoming sign to every furnishing, every online flourish, every presentation, event planned, tours, pop-ups, readings, signings. and even romantic interests. What is that supposed to mean exactly? A little delayed, but there it is. It means you sprayed your wrist with a very particular magnolia and sandalwood odour parfarm. Yes, and?

And the scent seems to have migrated from your wrist to Mr. Bernwell's crotch. Jesus Christ! Just sorry, this is so inappropriate. You were sniffing. Then there's the brother, Michael Holder. Conspicuous by many things. things, least of all his absence. From the family feud we were all subjected to, we know he is in debt.

He's a gambler, petty crime, and has long been suspected of even stealing the late Mrs. Holder's engagement ring, and now we know that he too was present last night. Yet in this moment, he is not. Then there's George Bernwell here. George Bernwell OBE, excuse me. That won't be necessary. Multi-millionaire, philanthropist, charming, handsome, broad, masculine frame, but with delicate cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. Yes, Mr. Perfect, but... Ah, I see he's vain. Not so much as a prickling of rouge on his cheeks after all those compliments I've put his way. Vane and dishonest. Not an unusual combination, but far from

desirable in his charitable field of work. But why is he dishonest, my dear companions? Because he knows about the case. He knows about the case. What? Sorry? You haven't yet been informed that your purchase is missing, Mr. Bernwell. What? What? The father and daughter have been arguing in the storage room. Francis Prosper hasn't said a word to you. In fact, he won't even go near you.

You have simply perused a few titles, then spoken to my friends. How did you find out that three pages of the barrel Coronet are missing? Huh, look, no, no, no, no. You just said it when you shut the door and started this announcement. Remember? Uh, you... you said it to us, George. You said you might get into the... crime novels after this little investigation.

You even asked if we were the detectives. Will that be all, George? Marvelous. Ladies and gentlemen, you all, the absent Michael Holder included, count yourselves in one way or another as the victims of this singular crime. But I am here to tell you you are all, in fact, suspects. What? Suspects.

I didn't call myself a victim. I'm not going to stand here. I shall embrace my fictitious forbear and we will embark on an escapade of our own, or as Dr John Watson here would call them, adventures. So, welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the adventure of the Beryl Coronet. End of part one. What does end of part one mean? To binge this adventure in full and without ad, go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and co.