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Tickets, please! Welcome aboard this John H. Watson service to parts one, two and three of Charles Augustus Milverton. I will be making my way through the carriage with my trolley of cakes and teas, coffees and all that, so please do relax, listen out for the swearing and references to nudity, weird nudity, actually, and I suppose coercion as well. Next stop is Charles Augustus Milverton, part one. Thank you very much.
Please, come through. May I take your coat? I'm not wearing a coat. Of course. Perhaps your slippers? I'm kind of cold. Here. Here.
jacket around you. There we go. Ha, that's mine. What's going on? It has been fairly exhaustive, although I will note my unacceptable actions on the previous case deserve an exhaustive response to rectify and repair the damage that I have done. Sherlock, I said I forgive you. The investigation of Penny Montgomery was a triumph.
Largely down to you. Sherlock. Us? Down to us. And I was cruel and selfish, and now I must apologize. Here. Sher... I... Wait, is this Chacolina? It is indeed. Vines from Irandio, bottled in Leoa, mere moments from Bilbao. Oh my god, Sherlock. Oh...
That's... Mmm, that's perfect. Sparkling wine for breakfast? We do that over here for Christmas. But it'll be a cava or something from Lidl. Take a seat. I have tried to steer the breakfast towards the traditional cuisine of the Basque country. Not just in ingredients, but style. Pinchos. Pinchos? Oh, Sherlock. Sherlock.
Wow, that is so amazing. But you seriously don't have to do this. What's... pinchos, sorry? It's Basque servings, like tapas. Ah, okay, gotcha. Sherlock, I'm... I'm so... This is so... God, this is so beautiful.
I just can't believe that you would fuh... Oh. Oh, man. Angulas. Mm-hmm. Now, they were rather expensive, but I don't want us to think of the price as they slide down your throat. Huh. Mm-hmm. Cool. What do we have in here? Angulas. Lovely. Lovely. What is this? Like a pasta or...? Baby eels. Oh. Yeah. A delicacy Watson. Yeah. No, I see that. Sherlock, that's very...
Very good, mate. Really well done. One moment. Your sausages are done. I'll be right back. Save me, please. What? Please eat them. I hate angulas. They're little babies. How can you hate them? I don't mean them personally. I mean the taste, the texture. I can't. I can't. Everything all right? Yeah, yeah. We're just arguing over who gets to eat the most babies, baby eels. John...
Please. I don't want to hear anything against beans on toast ever again. I won't. I promise. Or Greg's. Fine. Or pickled eggs. John, I get it. Stop being a culture snob, yeah? Please, please, please. Fine, fine. Here we go. Oh, wow. Okay, yeah. No, these are good. Yeah, they're...
I mean, they're actually quite bland to be honest. Like, um, it's like a slightly chewy spaghetti. Please stop describing them. Well, I'm going in for another. Give some to Archie too. No, piss off, they're mine. Archie, go eat your dry food. Ah, the angulas are finished already. I couldn't help myself. Oh, what have we got here? More Basque delicacies for Mariana. And I have repurposed as much as I can for a full English breakfast for you, John. Well, hey, now you're talking.
Wow, look at that bacon. Oh, man. Top work, Churls. Thank you, Sir Loth. You are welcome, Mariana. Great stuff. Everything all right, Watson? This sausage tastes funny. Ah, yes. It's a fish sausage.
A what? Fish sausage. What's wrong? I replicated the same principle as a pork sausage. I ground down the entrails, bones, brain and other waste material of the fish and packaged it into sausage form. It's the same principle, Watson. Lovely. Yeah, no, it's, um, mm-hmm. Tease. I haven't made tease. Forgive me. Archie, come over here, please, mate. Archie, please.
My name is Dr John Watson, once of the British Army Northumberland Fusilier Regiment, now a true crime podcaster based in central London. I don't have much experience in criminology, so this is mostly a record of how I met possibly the most brilliant and bizarre person I have ever and will ever know. Join me as I document the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
Hey! Hi! I couldn't do a big shop by myself so
I did like a half big shop. Cool, yeah, thank you. Great work. Did the stupid dog guy email again? My phone is being weird. Dog guy? Yeah, the guy that wants us to investigate... I think it's his wife being possessed by his dog or something. Oh, I wish he had emailed now. No, not seen anything. Oh, wow. What's going on here? Just tweaking the doorbell a bit. Oh, sorry, no. I meant this.
What is this? What? On your face. Ah, just thought, you know, mustache. Your silence is very reassuring. You think that suits you? I don't know, just thought I'd grow one out. What do you think? It's something. And what's, um, sorry, what's happening with the doorbell? Oh, the listeners are complaining about it.
Seriously? Yeah. It's just shrill. You know, distracting. It really gets on everyone's nerves. You sure they're talking about the doorbell? Ha ha! Hilarious. No, I'm hoping I can just tweak its sensitivity. Ah! Ah! What? My knee! Oh, Jesus, piss! Oh, what can I do? Oh, help me up. Help me up. Oh, bloody hell, that hurt. Is it okay? Oh, that's a sprain.
Big sprain, right on the dodgy leg. Okay, up. Come on. Oh, man. Oh, wowzers, that hurts. How are we doing? Yeah, a bit better. Now I've got my weight off it. And I am very impressed you haven't made fun of my age yet. Oh, thank you. I am trying my best. Yes, very kind. Hi. Hello. Sorry, door's open. We're just fixing the... Oh. Oh. Hi, Penny. Montgomery.
Goodness. A moustache. Yes, I know. Look, we've been having a chat with somebody in the office. And this somebody, do they advocate on behalf of the moustachioed? Stop it. Although, we'll take lovely use of moustachioed. Thank you. We've got someone in the office that wants to speak to you. At last. I can wash the disgusting taste of the last case and that of the desperate and deceitful Penny Montgomery out of my mouth. What? Penny...
Good to see you again. Hi, Sherlock. I was... I've kind of exhausted saying what I was saying to John and Mariana, but I wish, um, I wish I could be here to just to say thank you, but I think the only thing that truly matters is an apology. From just the bottom of my heart, I'm so, so sorry. I'm so sorry. Um, well, we appreciate that.
We do, right, guys? Oh, completely. I mean, I don't particularly, but two versus one, I suppose. Shell, we appreciate it. But you're... I know there's things going on in terms of a police investigation and... Yeah, there's lots going on. Right, yeah, so that's just why I'm a little reluctant, you being here. Of course, I understand. It... I just...
I thought if you were paying attention to the papers or anything like that, they're making it sound like I really took everyone for a ride, and it's not. No, no, no, no, we don't. He has a legal team that is... The tricks they have, the... Milverton. Yes, exactly. Well, just know that it's not true. Mm-hmm. Sorry you're going through that, Penny. I actually, um, there's an activist group here.
They help victims of Milverton's, well, empire. He just floods every part of life with God, just whatever the agenda is. And it's just so overwhelming. Headlines, paparazzi, lawsuits, bots. I mean, it...
It's like a swarm, a swarm of maddened bees on anyone that posts anything remotely nice or truthful about me. He just has control over everything. We saw similar things with Hector Macfarlane. It's not nice. That bastard has hired his services to tear me apart. I think it's safe to say he's definitely getting his money's worth, eh?
Hector is part of the group, actually. The support group side of things. Oh, cool. Send him our best? Will do. Um, I wanted to help the group. As they do... they do a lot of good. And I think you should speak to Evan Brackwell. Here. Here's his number. Oh, thank you. Why should we speak to him? Because he's looking for a detective. And I said I knew the very best.
Please throw those away. The papers. I really did try to escape from him. He found me on the ship and that's when... We are aware of your case and we consider it closed. Thank you, Penny. Thank you. All three of you. Thank you. Bye-bye.
Truly bizarre. I get it. She messed up. She wants to reconcile- I mean this- Stop touching the tash! Why have you grown this little creature again? It's not a creature, it's a moustache. And why were you so rude to her then? What do you mean? Shutting her down when she talks about her case. Why are you so weird about people lying to you? Is it weird to present myself as a little frosty to perpetrators of crime, Watson? She was still coerced into that whole stunt, Sherlock.
What's this? Oh, some of the newspapers. She was just showing them. The whole media madness. The case seemingly was resolved by a homegrown private investigator off Baker Street, Detective Sharonford Holmes. Why have they called me that? It's just a mistake. But... It's not funny, Watson. Oh, that has put a real spring in my step. LAUGHTER
Which, to be fair, I need, as I'm now going to hobble off to St Bart's. That's a limp. That's not a hobble. Is it now? Well, thank you. Always nice to be enlightened while also being in pain. Thank you, Sharonford. You're welcome, John Mustache Watson.
Come now, that was rather amusing, the phonetic similarity between the word Hamish and the word moustache. Don't do that again. What's that? Make amusing jokes? Exactly. It will lose us listeners. You watch, I'll get at least three emails about that crap. I don't think the listeners care for anything but the cases. Sherlock, I've just blown my knee out fixing a fucking doorbell they don't like. I'm going to St Bart's. Do you need help, John? Do you know what? Can I just use this umbrella, just as like a walking stick? Of course.
It should be tall enough. What's that supposed to mean? Nothing. Why would they call me Sherringford? Is there a cultural reference I'm missing? It's just a mistake. But I'm a well-known detective. I have told you a bazillion times to get your name out there, to do PR. But you always told me it would work against you. And now you're upset that they called you Sherrington? The name is Sherringford. Whatever. No, not whatever. You said the wrong, wrong name. Oh, good lord.
At least use the right wrong name, not the wrong wrong name if we're going to get my right name wrong. Oh, I regret learning this language. This is distressing. Oh, hey, what are we doing? I need my pipe and something to smoke. Well, you don't need, you want. Thank you, Doctor. Good observation. You can't smoke in here. Ah, there we go. Oh. Ahem.
It really is an iconic hat, isn't it? What? Penny Montgomery. Lady France's Carfax. Oh, God, yeah, mate. It's like Cantona's collar. I don't understand that, John. Same. But I'll assume the sentiment behind it is that of a distinctive look akin to a brand of personality, if that's all right. Please do, yes. The veiled lodger. That's not really an iconic look. No, no, not her. The
The case. In the adventure of the Veiled Lodger, Watson, you mentioned a hat that would cover my ears. The Deerstalker. So I have bought one. One moment.
Ta-da! Ta-da! Yes. It doesn't look silly. Can you...
Please not smoke the pipe in a place that is both our office and my flat. We must leave. Onwards, Doctor. You really don't have to come. I insist upon it. OK, bye. Bye. Have fun. I haven't used a walking stick for a while. Baker Street is bustling with life this morning, Watson. Mm-hm.
If crime won't call upon us today, then we shall go out and find it, shall we not? The game, one way or another, shall be afoot. Too fast, way too fast. I do apologise. Is that better? Yeah, thank you. My strides are quite a bit longer than yours, you see. What's that supposed to mean? So she's going to walk out and I'm going to go, isn't she lovely? You know? Isn't she lovely?
Which I know he wrote about his daughter, but who cares, right? Then the choir, who at this point have been singing like the boring shit their parents want, yeah? They join in with me. Then the whole congregation, unbeknownst to Nadia, right? They've been given the lyrics and they're now singing too. What do you reckon? Yeah. Yeah, it's very nice, Stamo. Very nice. So I was kneeling and as my knee goes for extension, I get huge pain in the LCL radiating...
Right up tibial band and a bit of, I think, quadriceps, although that might just be inflamed. All right, let's have a feel here then. Weep your trousers off. On the bed. Right, let's cop a feel.
Steady. Yeah, I know what I'm doing, John. Do you? Of course I do. Yeah, you do if I'm asking for a tummy tuck or a boob lift. Well, I'll quite happily surgically remove that moustache for you. I mean, you always had stubble, but now you've just let it grow. Look at it. Leave the moustache alone. Ow! Right, trousers all the way down, mate. Can you keep it straight, please? I am. Your elbow is right near my balls and it's very distracting. Sherlock, does this look straight to...
To you? In what sense? Ah, very funny. Can we please just get some cortisone in there? Well, I'm not doing it in your suprapatellar. There's no fluid in there for the spread. It's due lateral joint line right there. Perhaps infrapatellar? Less common for intra-articular injections. More often use of targeting something like
patellar tendinitis. Yeah, I would consider it if I was looking to aspirate fluid. Yes, but if there's bleeding in the joint, then... No, no, no, it won't be a bleed. It'll be from where the swelling is from. Oh, will you please inject my fucking LCL now? I am a doctor. Put that in there. See? There. The thing that really hurts and has hurt ever since some Russians put some shrapnel in it. Well, there's no need to shout. Yes, there absolutely is. Okay, here you go.
Little prick. Bit cruel. He's talking about the needle. Am I? Ow! Big prick. Big, giant prick. Let me just get that moustache. Hands off the tash! This episode is brought to you by State Farm.
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Oh, so that's why you're wearing the hat, because she popped round. I'm wearing the hat as it will elevate the company and my status. Do you think it does a reverse, to be honest? She came round to say sorry. Yeah, I'm not surprised. I saw it on my feed that she pretended she was a hostage to get money for a gambling addiction or something. It's not... That's not...
What it is. It's not far off. Don't start. She, right, okay, it was Peter's idea. She hid herself in accordance with his plan. I mean, yes, she went along with it, but to be free from him, that's why. Right, that's not what I'm reading. Yeah, it's not what anyone's reading. She is...
Losing the PR war, put it that way. Mr Peters has been working closely with Charles Augustus Milverton to clear his name and muddy hers even more so. I do know the name. Who is he? A vile husk of a man. Jesus, come on then, let's hear it. Yeah, well, make it quick. Mariana says we've got to meet this Evan Brackwell guy in a pub that is literally the next stop. I've had to do with 50 murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow.
Oh, this is our stop. Were you talking about John? Yeah. Yeah, I is. See you later.
Evan? Ah, hi. You're John? Yes, and this is Sherlock. Hi, Sherlock. Hello, Evan. Lovely hat. Thank you. Can I get you both a drink? It's the least I can do for agreeing to see me and understand the potential allegations I'm going to... well, proportionate response to the unfolding situation... What does he have on you? Let's get to it, shall we? Hmm? Milverton. He has some sensitive information, does he not?
Let me see. You're well off, but very unflashy. Two phones. The work one looks old, cheap, well used. The notebook seems to be punctuated mostly with acronyms. You offered us a drink, but you were using a personal bank card, not a business one. So the enterprise you work for has tight budgets. You're nowhere near anything commercial or sales with that kind of measured framing in your language. In fact, you avoid absolutes entirely. Allegations. Proportionate. Unfolding situations.
You are trained in caution, Mr Brackwell. Crikey. Crikey indeed. You're a high-ranking civil servant. I think we all know you don't have time for a lunchtime drink, so let's get to it, shall we? Okay, do you want to take a seat? Would love to. You're married to a woman. You're not gay, so nothing being hidden away there. Not gay, no. A couple of children. Yes. Ah, there it is.
Yes. A tricky time. Tricky time indeed, yeah.
Stepping back, I've been offered... Well, it's been available for some time now. A rather substantial change in position. Don't conceal success, Mr Brackwell. It will do you no good. Sorry? You can say promotion. I won't confuse you for a show-off. Right, of course. Yes, so... Director General for a department. Well done, you. Congrats. If only it was that straightforward. Um...
There's... there's a photo of her, you see. Indecent? Very much so. Did a boy coerce her into... If only. Um, she's always been a bit of a wild child. Yes, I'm somewhat over-familiar with the euphemism. Politically engaged from a young age, are they all these days? And she's...
A number of things she's done, they're very noble, very bold. Well, like lots of driven kids, she does these big loud things because she wants change or awareness. But last year, yeah, last year in a very reckless moment, she'd be first to admit that, I promise you. She exposed herself to camera.
OK. But it was at the burial site, the gravestone of a well-known Conservative politician. Sorry, it's getting to me a bit out. It's... It's OK, Evan. You just take a second. Yeah. I'm just going to quickly scan what you've said so that we're on the same page. I'm not going to ask you to go through it all again. Your daughter...
has a picture of her exposing herself at a gravestone. Correct. So, flashing. Yes, yeah. Right. She, um... I think she thought it was some bold, political, radical statement. Maybe it would be for someone whose father was not meant to represent the highest bloody offices of government in an impartial manner. Yeah, I understand. Anyway, um...
Fast forward, obviously I'm not aware of the photo at this point. She hasn't sent it to anyone either. But then one day, out of the blue, broad daylight, her phone gets nicked. And a couple of days later, you know, not much after that, he messages me the photo. He? Milverton. My daughter and I speak about it, shout and scream about it. It would be more accurate. We...
somehow eventually heal things that night as best we can. I just, I just, I ignore it. I hope it goes away. And I don't even get to sit and hope for that long because the next day at work there's this little slip of paper on my desk. Here I have it. Let me see. It's metadata, isn't it? It's image metadata. Oh dear, it is indeed.
GPS data, timestamp, carrier data, user editing history, device data, it's all here Mr. Brackwell. The metadata also has a hidden thumbnail, embedded data I'm afraid. Meaning? Meaning you cannot contest that it's been edited. The embedded thumbnail will show the master image and it will match. The ray of hope, I suppose, is that Milverton is sending you this in the first place.
This is hope, is it? He doesn't wish to publish it. That's not his primary objective. He wants leverage. And he has it. Of course, yeah. Well, we can maybe have a good old think, right, Charles? And we could get back to Mr Brackwell with a game plan, or...
The problem we have with Mr Milverton is he has always been somewhat ahead of his time. He was at the fore of phone hacking and most gutter-press activity, bin-diving and such. Then he threw his lot in with conventional hacking. Server-tapping then, bot-farming of course, so now his media-adjacent law enterprise racks up enormous profits, as its clients pay for total destruction of their targets. Plaintiffs, in most instances. Hence what we're seeing with Miss Montgomery. So...
What are you saying? He is at the fore of the next great revolution, Watson. Which is...? The proof, Age. He is positioning himself as a central mogul in the certainty market, a node on the reality chain. I'm a little lost, I'm afraid. The great booms of both fine art and the genesis of expressionism, Mr Brackwell.
Do you know when they came into existence? Not quite, can't say I do. With the invention and mass adoption of photography, the supposed killer of such forms. The paradox was that the camera increased the worth of such things. Why? It was like a commodity, it was commodification, right? Yes. Art always had been, of course, but the machine became the mirror.
The camera became truth and art graduated to total freedom and expression. And now we find ourselves at the next great churn. Deepfakes you mean? AI? Exactly. Art was never more alive than the moment it stopped imitating. And now truth will never be more vital than when everything else is fake.
The certainty market. Milverton has seen it coming. This metadata, this absolute truth is the collectible still in its original packaging. Truth with the receipt still in its box. Pristine. No scuff marks or prints, scratches or even the subtle wash of the sun discolouring its original form. Provenance in all its immutable perfection. A spectacular investment.
I said we'd give him a call. Yes. Poor bloke. He's probably shaking and everything. What are you thinking? I'm thinking we're being watched, Watson. Really? Are we actually? You seem very calm about it. Yes, well, the eavesdropper in question isn't learning anything new about Milverton. How...
Exactly. Can you be sure about that, sorry? Because he is Milverton. Come, let's go speak to him. Sorry, sorry, wait. What are you talking about? The back corner by the stairway down to the toilets under the fire exit sign. What do you see? Er, just gonna... Quick glance. Is... is that him? I have no doubt. Come. Oh, God.
Quite the limp, Dr. Watson. Yeah, bit of a mishap this morning. Charles Augustus Milverton. Sherlock Holmes, please. Call me Charles Augustus. You'll have to do a lot better than please, Milverton. The coldness of the calculating detective. Always a reassuring trait. Please, take a seat.
And you have frequent dealings with detectives, do you, Mr Milverton? In my line of work, generally I can peel the very best ones away from the mat. For rummaging through people's bins, for stealing and opening up their phones, tracking their movements from one club to the next, that is what you feel is worthy of a detective? Information is worthy of much darker practices, Holmes, you know that.
Baron Gruner says guten tag, by the way. Didn't think he could vocalise much these days. Yeah, comes out in a rather grizzled croak. Why are you speaking to him? Well, the poor fellow. That's 31 years behind bars. He's surveying his options, buying up a little public sympathy. He's not a poor fellow. Last time I looked at the list of convictions, anyway. He's a neighbour of mine. Always rather liked him.
Can't put in too much mind. He lost. He won, that's how I see it. A master criminal beaten by a master detective. And I must say, I wouldn't mind getting my grubby little hands on your services, Mr. Holmes. Yes, I can imagine. What would it cost to acquire your company permanently as a retainer? Mm-hmm.
As you know, we've been speaking with Mr. Brackwell. What's your price, Holmes? I am a curious little creature. A curious little creature? I think you're having rather a lot of fun with that understatement, aren't you, Mr. Milverton? Sorry, why do you need private detectives, exactly? For journalism, if I can even use that word on you. Sorry, is there something funny I don't get? No, actually, you do get it.
We all get it. Which is what, exactly? Tell me, Doctor, what's that? A fifty pound note. Do you want it? No. Why? Because. Because why? Because I just don't. Come, come, let's break the barrier, hop the fence of civility and come join me in Holmes over here. This is so stupid. I'm sorry I asked. Why don't you want it? Because...
I don't want to take it from you. Why? Because... Why? It's not fair. It's yours. Lie. That's not a lie. Yes, it is. You are lying. Why don't you want to take it from me? Because it... I will be in debt to you somehow. And that is the funny thing that you do, in fact.
Dr. Watson. The investigators are nothing more than his bankers, Watson, where information is the only recognized currency. And I'm still yet to convince you to come ring the bell on the gossip trading floor. My biggest goal, of course, is to open an account in your name, Holmes.
You should really deploy some of that infamous Milverton charm if you wish to get on our side and use our services. Right, let's just go. Sherlock, come on. Disappointed to see the inside of a pub, Dr. Watson. That's rather out of character, isn't it? Condolences, by the way. Miss Morstan was a courageous one.
Perhaps a little too... Yeah, okay, bye-bye. Good day, Mr Milverton. All the best with the salacious media empire. You really do loathe me, don't you, Mr Holmes? Yes. Good. I rather like it. I feel as if I'm taunting some big cat through the glass. Well, last time I was at the zoo, a chimp started throwing his own shit. So, let's call this a day before it gets ugly. At the zoo...
Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, when you stand before the serpents and see the slithery, gliding, venomous creatures with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces? Because that's how Milverton here impresses me. All right, come on, let's just... Prowling big, the monkey throwing his own feces, and the slithering serpent... Come on, Sherlock. ...all under the watchful spider...
What did you say? Better get back to work. I have clients of my own. What did you say? Sherlock, get... Milverton, you bastard. Who are you alluding to? Oh, good. All right. Come on, Sherlock.
Break into my house again and I will feed you to him, Holmes. Understand me? I didn't break into your house. I'll watch his fangs sink into your skull and see that brilliant brain foam out your eyes like battery acid. Oh, shut up! Shit. Shit. Obviously, I, um... Oh, bollocks. I didn't mean to knock him out. Oh!
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