Sherlock & Co. - The Man with the Twisted Lip - Part Two

Episode Date: December 23, 2025

THE MOST WONDERFUL CRIME OF THE YEAR - After the miniscule case of Isa Whitney (which I basically solved by myself) I was immediately introduced to the next case. Yet this particular problem had our esteemed Detective stewing for just under five years.  Part 2 of 3 This episode contains swearing, references to murder, drug abuseListener discretion is advised. A new clothing store has opened: www.sherlockwear.comFor 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 2025.SHERLOCK AND CO. Based on the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Paul Waggott as Dr. John Watson Harry Attwell as Sherlock Holmes Kimberley Nixon as Ruby St ClairThomas Mitchells as Hugh BooneJohn Brannoch as WigginsRhys Tees as LascarAnt McGinley as D.I Tom GregsonMyles Le Blanque as Langdale PikeAdditional Voices:Nola EmeryDarcey FergusonJoel EmeryAdam Jarrell 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

Audio books, ad free early access adventures, mailbag episodes, case file episodes, AMAs, behind the scenes, microadventures, authored by Watson himself, a Discord channel with nearly 2,000 chatter little members, merchandise discounts, exclusive events, and yes, done. Yeah, miss the most important bit, mate. Oh, patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co. Thanks. I want to know about a place. A place? Yeah, a place I can't locate, but I know exists. Name.

Clinic, K-L-I-N-I-K. Nothing online about it at all. Yeah, I know, but I'm not going in there unless I have to. What is Clinic Wiggins? Where is it? For nearly 200 years, it was a leaky, damp old dungeon that served the opium addicts of the city. It was an opium, then? Yep. It doesn't sound like one now.

It sounds quite upmarket, if anything. Clinick with decay. Decay is for ketamine, Jan. Get off me! Where is this man? No phones in here. Oh sorry, you're having a screen time detox, are you? God, you need to see a doctor. It eases my pain.

Oh, I'm talking about the wounds on your face. You need to see a doctor. Do you understand me? Mm-hmm. Leave him alone. How about you, mind your own business? Can't you see the man's disfigure? Hey, I said leave it. Shut up. What are you?

doing here? What are you doing here? You were in a crack den during the Christmas holidays. It wasn't a crack den and I wouldn't frequent such a thing because crack cocaine use has become too talkative and you know I can't tolerate that. You know what I mean. I know what they do there.

I know what you're on. You don't. Wiggins told me. It's ketamine. That's why we're arguing about ketamine because you're taking ketamine. I'm not taking ketamine, John. Sherlock.

I'm not. Oh, what are you doing in there and why would you lie to me? I didn't lie to you. I was working. You've been working on this for five years? Yes. How did I not know this?

Because I'm ashamed, I suppose, that I haven't solved this case. Ruby, a friend from the Christmas party. Her husband, Neville St. Clair, disappeared five years ago. He was a rather successful trader in the city, married to Ruby and had a son together. Noah. Noah? Noah.

Noah has angel men. syndrome. A deletion or mutation of chromosome 15, non-verbal, global development delay, learning complications. Right. Wow, that is tough for Ruby. Ruby's husband and Noah's father, Neville, went missing on Christmas Eve 2020. What this case asks of me is to believe in Christmas miracles. How exactly? Because every 25th of December, Noah went. Now a way. wakes up to a gift from his father. You think you can figure this out after five years? The festivities have got me feeling that anything is possible.

This is the season, dear Watson. And Sherlock Holmes is coming to town. Jingle bells, etc. How are we? Yep, good, great. Welcome back. This is the adventure of the man with the twisted lip. This episode, and part three, actually, contain a very sweary woman. There is nothing I can nor want to do about it, so this is just me warning you.

Okay, bye. Quiet. Very. Like walking in a winter wonderland. wouldn't you agree? I mean, it's Lee, southeast London. It's all right. Wonderland's a bit far.

The Cedars is just up here, on the end. The Cedars? That's her house? Correct. They are, bigans. Yes, the city traders do seem to like them on the large side. Yeah, they do indeed. Just here.

Time to hear the case of Neville St. Clair. The case that stumped the great Sherlock Holmes. Stumps? The case that stumps the great Sherlock Holmes. Stumped suggests I failed. But you have? I'm here, aren't I? At the door? Yeah, there's a failure.

Aren't you glad we're spending Christmas together? No. It's lovely to see you again, John. I didn't know you'd be helping Sherlock out. Not that you need help, lovely. Well, I fear I do, Ruby. this being our fifth year. Stop it. You've given us more time and attention than the bloody police.

This is a lovely home. Yeah, no, we're very lucky. For now, I don't know if Sherlock told you, insurance companies don't really pay out in such circumstances. Life insurance, you mean for Neville? That's right, yeah. But fingers permanently crossed in this house. Ooh, nice. I like the padded carpet.

It's for my son. He can hit his head on the floor when frustrated or when happy or just any fucking occasion will do. Right, yes, Angelman's syndrome. Sherlock said, I hope that's okay. No, of course. Don't be daft. I'm not embarrassed to talk about my beautiful boy. Am I, love, eh? Look at that big smile. Oh, hello, Noah. Oh, I know that face. He needs the toilet. Come on, my love.

Come on. Oh, can I, can I get anything? Can you just get that door for me? Yeah, of course. He's heavy at 12. I hope he figures this out before he's 20. At two sex. I'll make a cup of tea.

Thanks, Sherlock. And there, John. Oh, thank you, mate. Tah, ta. Right, cup of tea, cheers, anyone. Of course, yeah, let's have some of that. Clink, there we go. Cheers.

Merry Christmas. Nadarie Laueren? Look, I'm just going to say it because I can see it on your face. See what on my face? You're being all bloody glum and mopey. I am absolutely not. None of this is your fault, Sherlock. It's a case, it's a mystery, right?

They're meant to be challenging, okay? Yes, I know, but it has been five years and I'm no closer to... Hey, you think I give a toss whether it's two years, five years, ten years? Well, yes, you should. It's just a delay, Sherlock. That's all. My whole life is. on delay, right? I mean, I've got a near teenager in there watching the fucking telitubbies. And I tell you what, if you ever hear the telitubbies have been shot dead in cold blood, you found the killer right here. Oh, I cannot. Just that big fucker with the bag.

Tinky Winky. Awful, wanker. Oh, God. But it makes him happy. Where was I? Delays. Like, part of my life, okay? Turn that fucking frown upside down. Okay? I've only just finished changing nappies. I'm in no rush. I know Neville is out there, right? I know he is. And you know he is. And even know where it knows. Which means we can get him back.

And that's all I need to know. All right? But what I don't bloody need is your soppy little face moping around my kitchen because that makes me feel bad. So are we going to be happy? A? fucking merry and bright and all that bollocks, yeah?

Yes, fine. Well then, drink your tea, eat your biscuit. Well, that's you told. Yes. Merry Christmas. How are you doing anyway, John? Good, yeah, yeah, sorry, we didn't get to chat much at the party, did we? Always the way, but now you know how Sherlock and I know each other.

Sad way to get to know someone, but still, glad we did. Yes. So, sorry, I hope you don't mind me. No, we don't go for it. When he disappeared on that Christmas Eve, was there any indication to you that it was deliberate? In what way? Well, I'm just, if we think he's still out there, there has to be a question as to why he hasn't come back. And usually when people won't return, it's because they left.

Sorry, it sounds crueler coming out of my mouth than in my head. No, no, it's fine. I get what you mean now. So basically, I mean, I'll fully rewind here. I met Neville when I was doing... I have to keep my voice down because Noah... I mean, I can swear, obviously, because he can't talk so he's not going to repeat it,

but I don't want him knowing this. I was doing a particular job in the city that paid well, but didn't require the qualifications, if you know what I mean. Great, you don't know what I mean. I worked with a pole, and I don't mean a bloke from Warsaw. Get what I mean? Ah, okay.

Yeah, there we go. So I would do that weekdays, really bloody rowdy, hard work, you know. I mean, they're bad, sober that lot. Pump them full of alcohol and coke, then show them, well, a big old pair of boobs, and they're even worse. Yeah, can imagine. So weekdays were like that because the city is alive in the week, right? But at the weekend, dead as a door-nil.

Anyway, it's not a glamorous how we met story, this, but I'll tell it. Hopefully he'll show up just a boll at me for telling it. I would take Sunday night bar shifts because you never had to get up and dance because there was no one in there, which meant not much many. But I had peace and quiet and still got paid. So I would do that and I'd work on my degree and whatever else, right? In walks this guy, I say to him, what can I get at you? thing and he goes this was a strip club last time i was here i think oh he's angling for a little

dance so i show him i mean it's it literally is a menu of uh naughty things he can have right yes i've just seen one in a massage parlour have you have you it's a long story carry on and he just puts it to one side and he says my name is neville i said my name oh god don't laugh okay but i go my name is vixen I said, don't bloody laugh. Anyway, what was it? Yeah, what he said. Oh, yeah, he goes, how much for a private dance?

And I go, blah, blah, blah, you know, this much. And he goes, right, not worth it? And I'm about to go off on him, because rude, right? But he carries on. He goes, not worth it for you. How much so you can study full time? And you don't have to dance in front of those wankers every night. And I sort of, I step back.

I mean, this is pretty woman sort of stuff, you know? But it wasn't. It didn't feel arrogant to me. It was like he was really weighing it up. Still romantic, like, I don't know. It was almost like he had a, like he wanted me to achieve kind of feel to it. I can never tell the story and get that sense across. There was a magic to his words that was beyond rich man, saves girl. it was so

considered and yeah anyway I don't bloody know how we did it but we would meet up just for coffees and

I never had a relationship like it before it's like we came at it from the other end you know we became trusted loving best friends first and then I just couldn't

you know keep your hands off each other bingo correct answer Exactly. I did my psychology degree. I started my master's and after a little holiday in the south of France, I missed my period. Studies get paused, baby on the way. Lovely Jebelie. Well, not quite, I mean, bloody scary because I was young, but exciting, you know. And we had this place by then, so Noah was born and

yeah, did the whole baby thing, singing him songs, pulling faces, pointing out every bloody duck and cat and doggy. and doggy. You've seen them. Young parents in the park. Exhausting, watching them, isn't it? But yeah, I did all that. And I just had this nagging feeling. I just would look into his eyes and I knew he wasn't looking back. Physically he was, of course, but he was not. He was struggling. He was stuck in there, you know. We'd go to these baby classes and I'd be doing anything to try and get some reaction out of him, get him communicating in any way, anyway at all. Yeah, at those places, I'd catch other babies pointing or clapping out of the corner of my eye and I would just think, oh fuck, something is wrong. I tell Neville. He's a bit

more hopeful, but still as clueless as I am. The months go by, the milestones don't get reached, or we might get one, like blabbering, but a day or two later it's gone. Go to the doctor, they fancy it for autism, get assessed, but by the time you've gone through that waiting list, you know, I mean, by the time we got there, they diagnosed him with Angelman syndrome. And what is that exactly? Like autism, but without the kind of spectrum to it, really, just definite global development delay cognitive delays non-verbal

as you've seen already unusually happy it literally says that on the diagnosis thing you get unusually happy yeah there's worse things right you know not like this miserable git I am merely trying to solve a case Ruby I'm winding you up

yeah they it used to be called puppet child syndrome or they'd be called puppet child children. Why? Oh God, test him now. Well, Harry Angelman, Harry Angelman, yeah, sort of discovered it. He saw a painting, I think, in Italy of a boy drawing a puppet, and the puppet reminded him of his patience. As you saw when I was taking him to the toilet, you know, their limbs can sort of flop around because they're so often unusually happy, the arms kind of fly around like a puppy on a string. I think maybe someone maybe thought that name was cruel and it became Angelman. But yeah, God, where am I going with this story? This is meant to be about Neville. That's all right.

Yeah, can't lie. Love the man very much. But Neville took it badly. He was already stressed with his job. And being a parent to a special needs child is not... You can't live for you anymore. You just can't. All parents will say that.

But until you've structured your life... around needs you don't have for a person, let's be honest, you don't understand and may never understand, you have to lock part of you away, you know, forever, because he's not leaving the house at 18, is he? No. He's, uh, he'll be with me until I go. And then what the fuck happens to him? And these were the conversations I'd have with Neville, and I thought that Neville was angry about that. You, you thought? Yeah, basically six months or so before he disappeared. He'd been awful, depths of despair, anger, misery.

He'd go out to work every day just almost grey. Everything was piled up and just crushing him. But I say he'd go out to work. He wasn't? He wasn't. When he went missing, I called his company. They said he hasn't worked here for... Six months.

Hence the misery. Bingo again. Six months. I said, where is he? They said, we don't bloody know love. I call the police and it all, yeah, it all just kicks off then, doesn't it? No sign of him, but they did show me old footage of him. Sure enough, he'd leave this house, buy love, off to work type thing. Was he off to work? Was he bollocks?

What did he do? He just waltz around London, from the looks of it, right? Popping in the museums, having a bit of lunch, job interviews now and again, I'm sure. But then he'd come home. Hi, I love, long day at the office, blah, blah, fucking blah. It... Some of my mates say like, oh, he carried that burden because he knew it would be stress on you

and all this. And I'm like, do me a favour? Why do you think I can't handle that? Why do you think I'm going to fall apart because you got fired? I don't need a bloody four-story townhouse in Lee. I'm... Anyway, I'm just going to rant now. They found his coat, didn't they?

When was that? March 2021. Dredged from the Thames. Really battered up, wasn't it? But his wallet was in there. Um, yeah, that was rough. That was heartbreaking. But then, I saw him, didn't I?

You did? She did. Where, when? In that horrible place. Clinic, is it? Clinic with a K. Indeed. He was in there, in the ketamine place.

So, every day Noah was in K, I would go around near where he used to work, near where he met. You know, I'd loop around down by the Dockland. and I was walking past that building of that awful place. I mean, I didn't know it at the time, obviously. The bottom windows were all frosted in that. You couldn't see in. But something inside me told me to look up just this once, total off chance, and I did.

And there he was. When was this? About six months after his disappearance, I'd say. And that's when I got Sherlock involved. Upon entering clinic for the first time, all those years ago, I observed the actions of a man by the name of Hugh Boone. Uh-huh. He would beg for money, yet, treat himself to these ketamine-fuelled indulgers.

But there was a very notable thing about Mr. Boone. An orange hand. He had an orange hand? Not quite. His watch, a Rolex explorer, a very particular one made between 1971 and 1974, that had... An orange hand. Correct. And that's exactly the watch Neville had.

Mr Boone was questioned by police when the coat was found. He was nearby with stains up to his knees of dark Thames silt and sludge. He refused to cooperate. I brought to their attention sometime later that he seemed to be now wearing Neville's watch. This is the guy. This is the guy they arrested but couldn't charge. Indeed. They could have tried harder, but not all that easy to do without a body. I even had confirmed DNA traces of Neville on Boone's clothing.

Wow. But, yeah, I mean, they can't go for murder because, well, no corpse. But also, you said there's gifts each year. There are gifts. From Santa Claus? Nope. Father Christmas? Same person. Yes, I know, thank you.

They say from daddy on them. So... That is insane. Yep. They just appear under the tree. Every year. Baffling Speaking of gifts I have something for you Sherlock

You do? I do What exactly Well I haven't asked him yet Because I was going to do it with you here But I spoke to one of Noah's carers And she said when he was at school Noah was looking at a man out the window

And the man Was looking back Description She didn't have one Because the second she came over The fella buggered off How intriguing Last night Noah was completely

Disregulated So I was never going to get anything out of him. But we've done everything as we should this morning, all the things in the right order. He's got his favourite socks on. He's even had his favourite cereal. He's got that purple wanker on the telly. Do you have his AAC? Oh, right here. Then, if you'd be willing, could we hear more of this man outside the window? We can give it a try, can't we? Sorry, what's this? AAC? Oh, God, don't. I can never bloody say it. Augmentative alternative communication. Right. Wow. Okay. What does it do? It's a tablet, device thingy, that allows

nowhere to communicate. A talk, I mean, sorry. Well, what's the difference? Talk, communicate. Communication can be anything. Him screaming is communication. Him pulling my hand towards something. Him pointing or gesturing. That's communication. He can communicate. He just can't talk. Right. Of course, yeah. Let's give it a little. Wait. Look here. If I use the letters instead of the pictures... Hello Sherlock. Hello John. Nice. Finish your bloody tea. Prick. That's naughty. Cut that bit if it ever goes out.

Noah, love. I've got your talkie. Yeah, and I've got some friends here, Sherlock and John. We're all going to have a little chat if that's all right. There you go. Ah, please be in the mood, please be in the mood. Hello. Hey, hello, Noah. Hello, Noah.

Where do you live? Where do we live? We live in Baker Street. Um, by Regents Park. Do you know it? What are you getting for Christmas? Uh-huh, good question. Um, well, hopefully the Swindon Town away shirt.

Yeah, what about you? Bath time. No. No, not bath time yet. Noah, I was speaking to you Mrs. Wallace yesterday and she said that there was a friend at the window. You saw a man? I saw a man.

Did you know him, Noah? Yes. Do you see him often? Yes. Who is he? Noah. Who is he? The man with the twisted lip.

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Ancestry DNA. Want to know where your family comes from in northern France? Maybe you'd like to see how your genes influence certain traits like diet, fitness and allergies. There's so much of you and your heritage to discover. Visit Ancestry.ca and get started with an Ancestry DNA kit today. Why can't we tell her? Because she already fears so many things about Noah. I don't wish for her to fear for his physical safety too. Bloody Christmas parade. Is there a single street left open? But who is he?

Sherlock, who is the man with the twisted lip? Boone. Boone? The man that was arrested, you mean, in 2021? For the murder of Neville St. Clair? Yes. Why is he stalking the kid now? What? Some special needs school?

I don't wish to answer that question. Yeah, well, I wish for you, too, answer the question. How about that? You must understand, John. I have had this man arrested for a murder. I have watched Hugh Boone in that dreadful place of every possible opportunity. And I cannot understand it.

What dreadful place? When Ruby came to see me all those years ago, she said she had seen Neville in that very building. In Clinic with a K? Yes. That is why I frequented it. To search for Neville and the person I saw in there was Hugh Boone.

who would beg for money, he would ask for anything, coins, cash, whatever those poor souls had in there. Yes, so... When the coat of Neville was found, the pockets Watson, I found nearly 40 pounds in change. Blood soaked. The blood of Neville St. Clair. Jesus. During the height of London's attention on the case, Boone hastily tossed the coat he stole into the river. Too hastily. You forgot to empty his pocket?

Exactly. And why? Why would Neville be waged down with change? He wouldn't. But why would Hugh Boone? Because I'd seen him do it. To everyone he can. Spare change, spare change. I've even given him some myself. He even asked you. He what? You met him. The, wait, that guy with the bad face, with the, oh, the twisted lip. Yes, that is Hugh Boone. That is who I was watching, who I follow so closely. Yet nothing, nothing but that watch and that coat can pin him down. I've even snatched items of his old disgusting rotten and half-decade clothes right there in clinic,

right under the nose of that Lascar animal, and on them I've proved DNA traces of Neville St. Clair. And yet still, I cannot get this man put behind bars. I cannot bring justice to the killer of Neville St. Clair. Excuse me, Christmas parade rehearsal, can you move back? A parade does not require a rehearsal. Right, can you move out the way of the sleigh of the reindeer, please? They're ponies, Mr. Claus. For God's sake.

Can you please move back? Just come this way. Sherlock, just, I don't want to confuse matters more. How can you possibly think he's dead? How can we get across town if they're closing all this off, for goodness sake? Every Christmas. You heard it from Ruby every single Christmas day, mate. Noah wakes up to Christmas presents from his dad.

I daren't confront that one in Ruby's presents, my dear what? Certainly not this time of year. She is a woman of remarkable inner strength. I do not wish to fracture the foundations that hold her together. But I do fear. Yes, I do. Five years is too long. I must shatter her first to be able to put all this together.

What are you talking about? Sherlock! Sherlock! Do you have any idea how difficult it is in this country to be tried for a murder when there is no body? Why do you think Hugh Boone is a free man? You must look at the incentives, Watson. You must.

I am, mate. Then you can surely see it. He's dead. Her husband really is dead and Hugh Boone is planting those gifts to keep up the pretense. That Neville St. Clair is alive. But how is he... One thing missing from the dreadful. sodden coat Watson house keys house keys indeed wouldn't she change the logs if

you thought your late husband was dropping gifts off every year as a seemingly ghostly father Christmas would you change those locks keep him out of your life and that of your child forever no no I wouldn't no you bloody wouldn't Good tidings we bring to you and your kin. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Oh, bring us some figgy pudding. Oh, bring us some piggy-pourting. Gwen!

Gwen! I've been revisiting the Neville of St. Clair case. Remember our chief suspect, Mr. Hugh Boone. Remember that? Good time, Zeng. Bugger! Any other bright ideas? Not as bright, but an idea, nonetheless. Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright, round yon virgin mother and child.

What do you want? I want you to have a wonderful Christmas, that is what I want. Absolutely. Marvelous sweater, Tom. Freeze, it's Christmas. You have the right to remain jolly. Highly amusing. I have always admired your sharp wit. I was saying that on the way here, wasn't I, Watson. Yep, yeah, yeah, something like that. How's Christmas, Tomo? Busy. Oh yeah, you're hosting.

What gave me away? Uh, the turkey baster. Tom, I feel this time of year that we should serve those that need us most. Right. Which is why I require you to formally arrest and charge Mr Hugh Boo, with murder. Thank you so much. Sleep in heavenly. Sherlock. Yes, Tom.

You want to arrest a homeless man who begs for money? Correct. Yeah, I don't think you've quite got to grips with this Christmas thing. I have reason to believe. Not this Neville St. Clair thing again. Please, Tom. He was a city trader, Sherlock.

He found his coat in the Thames by the docks. Yes, exactly. That's literally where the city is. He lost a lot of money. He lost his job. He chucked himself off a bridge, mate. Give it up. Remember?

I told you, I detected his blood on Boone himself. And remember, I told you, desperate men do desperate things. Boone is pissed, poor, severely disfigured, and he need a psychiatric help, right? Do you think he second-guess taking a coat and a nice watch off a dead bloke? That is a crime. So is shoving this turkey bister right up your ass. But right now, I feel like I've got no choice if I want to get back to my Christmas. If the police cannot serve justice, then I will have to ask my friends.

to serve it. I advise against that. Merry Christmas, you two. Don't get into any trouble. Hello there. I would like some ketamine, please. Oh yeah. Yeah. How much exactly then? Charges the splash I'm driving. That's a joke. Just whatever the sort of kind of usual dose is. You think I'm as brain dead as my clients, do you? Just, you're a business. I've got the money. You just, you're a business. I've got the money. You just Give me the stuff, please, thank you.

And why would I do that? Last car, I have been coming here for many years. I have paid more than my fair share. Let us through. I don't trust this little one. Little one. This is the most trustworthy man I know. You know it's funny.

I've got a building, three stories eye, full of addicts to the same substance. Then I've got you. Addicted to something else. Not even a something. as someone. Laskar let us through. You're addicted to our Mr. Boone, aren't you?

Fascinating character, I have to admit. He's a dangerous man. I'm doing you and your clients a service by removing him from this place. Ketamine is used to blunt what is sharp, Mr Holmes. It is used to turn predator to prey. The only dangerous man under my roof is the clean man,

with nothing but anger in his veins. Let him through. Ah, Langdale. Let Sherlock do his work, and I'll let you do yours, Luscar. Langdell, I don't want any of my clients disturbed. But your clients are disturbed, Luscar. That's why they're your clients. And as long as they stream in from my pubs, my clubs, and my parties,

then you will remain in business. This... Uh, shush, shush. I know it can't be easy to stand in the shadow of a drag queen as they exercise their power over you. That can be rather trying for a proud little man, so I'll give you the benefit of my considerable doubt. If they didn't come here to get it, they get it from worse places. The exact words I told you years ago when we made the deal. Have you nothing original to say?

Sherlock Holmes is a fraud. Look around, darling. Do any of us girls have the piety to sit atop the tree this Christmas, twinkling amongst the baubles and the snow globes? I don't think so. Do you? There is no naughty list for us, Mr Laskar, nor is there a nice one. Why? Because we get a things are done, and that requires a little light and shade. Does it not? Get off me!

Let's go! Help! Help! Just put him down! In here! You! Yes, you too. We've got company in here.

Well, they don't look conscious to me, mate. Well, let's keep it that way. Goodbye. Stay where you are. You want to call the police? Good. Tell them I've been assaulted. I'll tell them that, by all means.

I'll also tell them that you've been stalking a child, taunting a family who lost their father, spying through the window of a special need school, at a boy who can't even speak to advocate for himself. You are a sick, disgusting man. Is that it? You mean, is that it? Sit down.

You are under arrest for being. a sick, disgusting man. I know your game, Boone. No, you don't, Holmes. Oh, I assure you I do. He's dead. Neville St. Clair is dead. So, you keep telling me.

But somehow, every Christmas little Noah gets a gift. Now how can that be? It must be that guy with the reindeer's and the big of the big sack. What's his name again? You see, Mr Boone, we finally got Mr. Laskar down there to cooperate. Turns out we have friends in high and low places. He provided me not only access to your dwellings here, but also with some clinic client documentation.

And goodness me, the drug game has come a long way, hasn't it? A form? You have to sign a form? Look at this. I confirm that clinic is not responsible, I am taking these risks myself, blah blah blah. Ah, this is the intriguing bit. Dated, signed, printed name. Yep, that's me.

I've seen that handwriting before. Shut up. Now where could that have been? Where was it that Ruby St. Clair first contacted me? All those years ago, when she showed me her evidence, I took a picture. of the most significant piece. Ah, yes. Here it is.

This is reaching. At best. The Christmas note. Merry Christmas to my beautiful Noah. Love Daddy. Same in 2020. Same in 2021. 22.

23. 24. It? That's nothing. I hope Father Christmas can fill this. gap because there will be no present from Daddy this year. Now tell me Boone, where is he? Where is Neville St. Clair? Here. What? Speak louder. I can't. You're recording. His mic.

Never mind the mic. If you've got answers, you give them. give them? The mic. These lot could be listening. They are unconscious drug addicts, mate. Speak. Nod. Just nod or shake your head if it pleases you.

Did you kill Neville St. Clair? Jesus Christ. It has been trying, Mr Boone, to be outwitted by you year after year. I'm just relieved to return the favour. You think, do you, that in that silent omission you evaded giving me evidence, and now your tears try for my sympathy. Pathetic. Is that everything?

Oh, your confession is everything, I assure you. But I'm pleased for you. No more lonely Christmases. Nice to have company for this time of year. even if it is in prison. I assure you, that is not happening. A Christmas alone, it sounds better. If that's all...

Oh, but we're not alone, Mr Boone. We have our wasted degenerate friends strewn across the floor, groaning, writhing and contorting as the drug works its way through their body. Yeah. Or at least that's how I told them it works, but these performances are somewhat unconvincing.

I'm doing my best, man. I was riving and contorting. What a fuck. I'm talking about him. Are you pointing at me? I'm well convincing you, no bed. Just get up and arrest him. No, no, no.

Down you go, mate. Down you go. Mr Boone, you are under arrest. You do not have to say anything. Get up! But it may harm your defence. If you do not mention, when questioned.

Something that you may rely on. You don't answer. To binge this adventure in full and without ads, go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and co. Oh, shit.