Sherlock Holmes Short Stories - The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet: Part One

Episode Date: September 10, 2025

When the gems in a priceless royal treasure are stolen from a wealthy banker’s study, Sherlock must navigate through the halls of wealth and privilege where family loyalty means nothing, reputation is everything, and no one is who they seem. Within this web of deceit, a truth awaits to be uncovered that will shake the foundations of London society.   A Noiser podcast production.    Narrated by Hugh Bonneville   Written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle  Produced by Katrina Hughes  Script Supervisor: Addison Nugent  Sound Design and Audio Editing by Mirianna Pitman Latham Sound Supervisor: Tom Pink  Compositions: Dorry Macaulay and Oliver Baines  Mix & Mastering: Josh Latham Series Consultant: Dan Smith    For ad-free listening and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Just click the subscription banner at the top of the feed to get started. Or go to noiser.com/subscriptions  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Don't miss the new edition of number one national best-selling and award-winning memoir, From The Ashes by Jesse Thistle. Once a high school dropout and now a rising indigenous scholar, Jesse chronicles his life on the streets and how he overcame trauma and addiction to discover his true self. Now featuring an introduction from renowned speaker and best-selling author, Dr. Gabor Matay. Read it today. I'm Hugh Bonneville and welcome to Sherlock Holmes short stories, the series where we delve into the files of fiction's most brilliant detective,

following his keen mind and unerring instincts from the first subtle clue to the final dramatic revelation. This time, we enter the treacherous world of high finance in The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet. When the gems in a priceless royal treasure are stolen from a wealthy banker's study, Sherlock must navigate through the halls of wealth and privilege, where family loyalty means nothing, reputation is everything, and no one is who they seem. And within this web of deceit, a truth awaits to be uncovered that will shake the foundations of London society.

From the Noisor Podcast Network, this is The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet, Part 1 Holmes, said I, as I stood one morning in our bow window looking down the street. Here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone. My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing gown, looking over my shoulder.

It was a bright, crisp February morning and the snow of the day before still lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down the centre of Baker Street, it had been ploughed into a brown, crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the footpaths,

it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but it was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station, no one was coming save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention. He was a man of about 50, tall, portly and imposing, with a massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was dressed in a sombre yet rich style in black frock coat, shining hat, neat brown gaiters and well-cut pearl-grey trousers. Yet his actions were in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and features, for he was running hard, with occasional little springs, such as a weary man gives who is little accustomed to set any tacks upon his legs. As he ran, he jerked his hands up and down, waggled his head, and he wrought his head, and he was a little accustomed to set any tacks upon his legs. haggled his head and writhed his face into the most extraordinary contortions.

What on earth can be the matter with him, I asked. He's looking up at the numbers of the houses. I believe that he is coming here, said Holmes, rubbing his hands. Here? Yes, I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I think that I recognise the symptoms. Ah, did I not tell you? As he spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door.

and pulled at our bell until the whole house resounded with the clanging. A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in his eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and pity. For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly, Bringing to his feet, he beat his head against the wall with such force that we both rushed upon him and tore him away to the centre of the room. Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the easy chair, and, sitting beside him, patted his hand and chatted with him in the easy, soothing tones

which he knew so well how to employ. You have come to me to tell your story, have you not, said he. You are fatigued with your haste. Pray wait until. you have recovered yourself and then I shall be most happy to look into any little problem which you may submit to me. The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest fighting against his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his brow, set his lips tight and turned his face towards us. No doubt you think me mad, said he. I see that you have had some great trouble, responded Holmes. God knows I have. A trouble which is enough to unseat my reason so sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might have faced, although I am a man

whose character has never yet borne a stain. Private affliction also is the lot of every man, but the two coming together and in so frightful a form have been enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land may suffer unless some way be found out of this horrible affair. Pray compose yourself, sir, said Holmes, and let me have a clear account of who you are and what it is that has befallen you.

This episode is brought to you. by Defender. With its 626 horsepower twin-turbo V8 engine, the Defender Octa, is taking on the Dakar rally. The ultimate off-road challenge. Learn more at landrover.ca. My name, answered our visitor, is probably familiar to your ears. I am Alexander Holder of the banking firm of Holder and Stevenson of Threadneedle Street. The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior partner in the second largest private banking concern in the city of London. What could have happened then to bring one of the foremost citizens of London

to this most pitiable pass? We waited all curiosity until with another effort he braced himself to tell his story. I feel that time is of value, said he. That is why I hastened here when the police inspector suggested that I should secure your cooperation. I came to Baker Street by the underground and hurried from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this snow. That is why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the facts before you. shortly and yet as clearly as I can.

It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful banking business, as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative investments for our funds, as upon our increasing our connection and the number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means of laying out money is in the shape of loans, where the security is unimpeachable. We have done a good deal in this direction during the last few years, and there are many noble families to whom we have advanced large sums upon the security of their pictures, libraries, or plate. Yesterday morning, I was seated in my office at the bank when a card was brought into me by one of the clerks. I started, when I saw the name for it,

was that of none other than, well, perhaps even to you I had better say no more than that it was a name which is a household word all over the earth, one of the highest, noblest, most exalted names in England. I was overwhelmed by the honour and attempted when he entered to say so, but he plunged at once into business with the air of a man who wishes to hurry quickly through a disagreeable task. "'Mr. Holder,' said he, "'I have been informed that you are in the habit of advancing money. "'The firm does so, when the security is good,' I answered. "'It is absolutely essential to me,' said he,

"'that I should have fifty thousand pounds at once. "'I could, of course, borrow so trifling a sum ten times over from my friends, "'but I much prefer to make it a matter of business, "'and to carry out that business myself. "'In my position you can readily understand, and that it is unwise to place oneself under obligations. For how long may I ask, do you want this sum? I asked. Next Monday I have a large sum due to me,

and I shall then most certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you think it right to charge, but it is very essential to me that the money should be paid at once. I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my own private purse, said I, Were it not that the strain would be rather more than it could bear? If, on the other hand, I am to do it in the name of the firm, then, in justice to my partner, I must insist that even in your case,

every business-like precaution should be taken. I should much prefer to have it so, said he, raising up a square, black Morocco case, which he had laid beside his chair. You have doubtless heard of the barrel coronet. One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,

said I. Precisely. He opened the case and there, embedded in soft fresh-colored velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewelry which he had named. There are 39 enormous barrels,

said he, and the price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The lowest estimate would put the worth of the coronet a double the sum which I have asked. I am prepared to leave it with you as my security. I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some perplexity from it to my illustrious client. You doubt its value, he asked. Not at all. I only doubt the propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest about that, I should not dream of doing so, were it not absolutely

certain that I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It is a pure matter of form. Is the security sufficient? Ample. You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you a strong proof of the confidence which I have in you, founded upon all that I have heard of you. I rely upon you not only to be discreet and to refrain from all gossip upon the matter, but, above all, to preserve this coronet with every possible precaution, because I need not say that a great public scandal would be caused if any harm were to befall it. Any injury to it would be almost as serious as its complete loss, for there are no barrels in the world to match these, and it would be impossible to replace them. I leave it with you, however, with every confidence.

and I shall call for it in person on Monday morning. Seeing that my client was anxious to leave, I said no more, but calling for my cashier, I ordered him to pay over fifty one thousand pound notes. When I was alone, once more, however, with the precious case lying upon the table in front of me, I could not but think with some misgivings of the immense responsibility which it entailed upon me. There could be no doubt that, as it was a national possession, a horrible scandal would ensue if any misfortune should occur to it. I already regretted having ever consented to take charge of it.

However, it was too late to alter the matter now, so I locked it up in my private safe and turned once more to my work. When evening came, I felt that it would be an imprudence to leave so precious a thing in the office behind me. Bankers' safes had been forced before now, and why should not mine be? If so, how terrible would be the position in which I should find myself. I determined, therefore, that for the next few days, I would always carry the case backward and forward with me, so that it might never be really out of my reach. With this intention, I called a cab and drove out to my house at Streatham,

carrying the jewel with me. I did not breathe freely until I had taken it upstairs and locked it in the bureau of my dressing room. And now a word as to my household, Mr. Holmes. for I wish you to thoroughly understand the situation. My groom and my page sleep out of the house and may be set aside altogether. I have three maid servants who have been with me a number of years

and whose absolute reliability is quite above suspicion. Another Lucy Parr, the second waiting-maid, has only been in my service a few months. She came with an excellent character, however, and has always given me satisfaction. She is a very pretty girl and has attracted admirers who have occasionally hung about the place. That is the only drawback which we have found to her, but we believe her to be a thoroughly good girl in every way. So much for the servants. My family itself is so small that it will not take me long to describe it.

I am a widower and have an only son, Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes. a grievous disappointment. I have no doubt that I am myself to blame. People tell me that I have spoiled him. Very likely I have. When my dear wife died, I felt that he was all I had to love. I could not bear to see the smile fade even for a moment from his face. I have never denied him a wish. Perhaps it would have been better for both of us had I been sterner, but I may for the best. It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, wayward, and, to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the handling of large sums of money. When he was young, he became a

member of an aristocratic club, and there, having charming manners, he was soon the intimate of a number of men with long purses and expensive habits. He learned to play heavily at cards and to squander money on the turf until he had again and again to come to me and implore me to give him an advance upon his allowance, that he might settle his debts of honour. He tried more than once to break away from the dangerous company which he was keeping, but each time the influence of his friend, Sir George Burr,

Bernwall was enough to draw him back again. And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George Bernwell should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently brought him to my house, and I have found myself that I could hardly resist the fascination of his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man of the world to his fingertips, one who had been everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker, and a man of great personal beautiful. Yet when I think of him in cold blood, far away from the glamour of his presence, I am convinced from his cynical speech and the look which I have caught in his eyes that he is one who should be deeply distrusted. So I think, and so too, thinks my little Mary, who has a woman's quick insight into character.

And now there is only she to be described. described. She is my niece, but when my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the world, I adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my daughter. She is a sunbeam in my house, sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and gentle as a woman could be. She is my right hand. I do not know what I could do without her. In only one matter has she ever gone against my wishes. Twice my boy has asked her to marry him, for he loves her devotedly.

But each time she has refused him. I think that if anyone could have drawn him into the right path, it would have been she, and that his marriage might have changed his whole life. But now, alas, it is too late. Forever too late. Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and I shall continue with my miserable story. When we were taking coffee in the drawing room that night after dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name of my client.

Lucy Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am sure, left the room, but I cannot swear that the door was closed. Mary and Arthur were much interested, and wished to see the famous coronet. But I thought it better not to disturb it. Where have you put it? asked Arthur. In my own bureau. Well, I hope to goodness that the house won't be burgled during the night, said he. It is locked up, I answered. Oh, any old key will fit that bureau.

When I was a youngster, I have opened it myself with the key of the boxroom cupboard. He often had a wild way of talking, so I thought little of what he said. He followed me to my room, however, that night with a very grave face. Look here, Dad, said he with his eyes cast down. Can you let me have two hundred pounds? No, I cannot, I answered sharply. I have been far too generous with you in money matters. You have been very kind, said he.

But I must have this money, or else I can never show my face inside the club again. And a very good thing, too, I cried. Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dishonoured man, said he. I could not bear the disgrace. I must raise the money in some way, and if you will not let me have it, then I must try other means. I was very angry, for this was the third demand during the month. You shall not have a farthing from me, I cried, on which he bowed and left the room without another word.

When he was gone, I unlocked my bureau, made sure that my treasure was safe, and locked it again. Then I started to go round the house to see that all was secure, a duty which I usually leave to. to Mary, but which I thought it well to perform myself that night. As I came down the stairs, I saw Mary herself at the side window of the hall, which she closed and fastened as I approached. Tell me, Dad, she said, looking, I thought, a little disturbed. Did you give Lucy the maid leave to go out tonight? Certainly not.

She came in just now by the back door. I've no doubt that she has only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that it is hardly safe and should be stopped. You must speak to her in the morning, or I will, if you prefer. Are you sure that everything is fastened? Oh, quite sure, Dad. Then good night. I kissed her and went up to my bedroom again where I was soon asleep.

I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr. Holmes, which may have any bearing upon the case, but I beg that you will question me upon any point which I do not make clear. On the contrary, your statement is singularly lucid. I come to a part of my story now, in which I should wish to be particularly so. I am not a very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety in my mind tended no doubt to make me even less so than usual. Hit pause on whatever you're listening to, and hit play on your next adventure. This fall get double points on every qualified stay. Life's the trip.

Make the most of it at Best Western. Visit bestwestern.com for complete terms and conditions. About two in the morning, then, I was awakened by some sound in the house. It had ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an impression behind it as though a wind had gently closed somewhere. I lay listening with all my ears. Suddenly, to my horror, there was a distinct sound of footsteps moving softly in the next room. I slipped out of bed, all palpitating with fear, and peeped round the corner of my dressing-room. "'Arthur!' I screamed. "'You villain! You thief! How dare you touch that coronet!'

The gas was half up as I had left it, and And my unhappy boy, dressed only in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the light, holding the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be wrenching at it, or bending it with all his strength. At my cry, he dropped it from his grasp and turned as pale as death. I snatched it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with three of the barrels in it, was missing. You blackguard! I shouted. Beside myself with rage, you have destroyed it, you have dishonoured me for ever.

Where are the jewels which you have stolen? Stolen, he cried. Yes, thief, I roared, shaking him by the shoulder. There are none missing. There cannot be any missing, said he. There are three missing, and you know where they are. Must I call you a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to tear off another piece?

You have called me names enough, said he. I will not stand it any longer. I shall not say another word about this business, since you have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in the morning and make my own way in the world. You shall leave it in the hands of the police, I cried half mad with grief and rage. I shall have this matter probed to the bottom. You shall learn nothing from me, said he with a passion such as I should not have thought was in his nature. If you choose to call the police, let the police find what they can.

By this time the whole house was a stir, for I had raised my voice in my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and at the sight of the coronet and of Arthur's face, she read the whole story and, with a scream, fell down senseless on the ground. I sent the housemaid for the police and put the investigation into their hands at once. When the inspector and a constable entered the house, Arthur, who had stood sullenly with his arms folded, asked me whether it was my intention to charge him with theft. I answered that it had ceased to be a private matter,

but had become a public one, since the ruined coronet was national property. I was determined that the law should have it, way in everything. At least, said he, he will not have me arrested at once. It would be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the house for five minutes. That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you have stolen, said I. And then, realizing the dreadful position in which I was placed, I implored him to remember

that not only my honour, but that of one who was far greater than I, was at stake. and that he threatened to raise a scandal which would convulse the nation. He might avert it all if he would but tell me what he had done with the three missing stones. You may as well face the matter, said I. You have been caught in the act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. If you but make such reparation as is in your power by telling us where the barrels are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten. Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it, he answered, turning away from me with a sneer.

I saw that he was too hardened for any words of mine to influence him. There was but one way for it. I called in the inspector and gave him into custody. A search was made at once not only of his person but of his room and of every portion of the house where he could possibly have. have concealed the gems, but no trace of them could be found, nor would the wretched boy open his mouth for all our persuasions and our threats. This morning he was removed to a cell, and I, after going through all the police formalities,

have hurried round to you to implore you. to use your skill in unravelling the matter. The police have openly confessed that they can at present make nothing of it. You may go to any expense which you think necessary. I have already offered a reward of £1,000. My God, what shall I do? I have lost my honour, my gems, and my son in one night. Oh, what shall I do?

He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to and fro, droning to himself like a child whose grief has got beyond words. Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few minutes, with his brows knitted and his eyes fixed upon the fire. Do you receive much company? he asked. None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of Arthur's. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. No one else, I think. Do you go out much in society? Arthur does, Mary and I stay at home. We neither of us care for it.

That is unusual in a young girl. She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She is four and twenty. This matter, from what you say, seems to have been a shock to her also. Terrible. She is even more affected than I. You have neither of you any doubt as to your son's guilt. How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes, with the coronet in his hands?

I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was the remainder of the coronet at all injured? Yes, it was twisted. Do you not think, then, that he might have been trying to straighten it? God bless you. You are doing what you can for him and for me, but it is too heavy a task. What was he doing there at all? If his purpose were innocent, why did he not say so? Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie? His silence appears to me to cut both ways. There are several singular points about the case. What did the police think of the noise which

awoke you from your sleep? They considered that it might be caused by Arthur's closing his bedroom door. A likely story, as if a man bent on felony would slam his door so as to wake a household. What did they say, then, of the disappearance of these gems? They are still sounding the planking and probing the furniture in the hope of finding them. Have they thought of looking outside the house? Yes, they have shown extraordinary, energy. The whole garden has already been minutely examined. Now, my dear sir, said Holmes, is it not obvious to you now that this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you or the police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you to be a simple case, to me,

it seems exceedingly complex. Consider what is involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came down from his bed, went at great risk to your dressing-room, opened your bureau, took out your coronet, broke off by main force a small portion of it, went off to some other place, concealed three gems out of the 39, with such skill that nobody can find them, and then returned with the other 36 into the room in which he exposed himself to the greatest danger of being discovered. I ask you now, is such a theory tenable? But what other is there? cried the banker with a gesture of despair.

If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain them? It is our task to find that out, replied Holmes. So now, if you please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together and devote an hour to glancing a little more closely. into details. Next time on Sherlock Holmes short stories, Under cover of darkness, Holmes enters London's criminal underworld in disguise. A blood-stained trail in the snow tells of a desperate struggle,

and a single boot reveals a shocking betrayal. And as dawn breaks over Baker Street, a father's worst fears come true. That's next time. Can't wait a week until the next episode? Well, listen to it right away by subscribing to Noyser Plus. Head to www.org.com slash subscriptions for more information, or click the link in the episode description.

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