Wisteria Lodge - Part One
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I like you.

I really do. And that is why I would like to formally invite you to the Sherlock & Co. Members Club. £6 a month at patreon.com forward slash Sherlock & Co. will get you over five hours of bonus content, early access to full ad-free adventures, a massive Discord chat community that are... Yeah, they're quite something in there. Newsletters, live events, early bird merch access, case file episodes, and just...

Loads, loads more. Patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co. That's weird. Is that recording? Laptop says yes. Mike says no. Who do I trust more? I'm probably going to back laptop on this one. Sorry, Mike. Hi all, if this is working. Welcome to the adventure of Wisteria Lodge. This is a three-parter and you're going to get some gory stuff. Well, gory references type thing right from the off. Um...

All the other warnings and stuff is available in the episode description as well as links to the Patreon, the transcripts and my social media account. Oh, no? Sorry, I thought that cut out. Yeah, head into the description box. God, it's grotesque. Look, the kestrels have got pieces of it in their mouths.

Blood everywhere. It's basically raining blood, Linda. They're buzzards, Martin. No, no, no. Kestrels, Linda. Look at the colouring. Colouring doesn't matter. It's wingspan. No, no, no. Colouring does matter. They're kestrels. And ravens. Oh, watch out. They're dropping bloody... My God, they're dropping whole clumps of it. They're fighting over the keep. What on earth have they found? Definitely something. Something big. You know what? It'll be a badger. And I'm recording. Just in case. Martin, for goodness sake. Oh.

Harbing a badger is illegal, right? We have to call the council if it is one. Come off it. No, no, no. Honestly, honestly, we have to call the council and this is our evidence that we didn't harm it. I don't think the council are going to accuse us of walking into the middle of a field and killing a badger, Martin. Excuse me, the council accused us of vandalising a telegraph bar because I put a black bar box on it, Linda. I know what they're like. Oh, my God.

Exactly. And it's on our land as well. They should be paying us for that telegraph pole. We should release it back to them, shouldn't we? Martin. What? Linda. It's not a badger. What is it then? A bloody fox or something? Oh my God. Are you still recording? I am, yes. Call the police. Oh my God. I've got...

Police, please. Yes, hi. We found a... Looks like a body of a person. What condition is it in? It's... It's... The masterpiece is almost unrecognisable. Clothes and anything I see is shoe now. Did you hear that?

Yeah, in a field outside Esher in Surrey. We'll hold the line. Yeah. Happened to this man. 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. I want to fall from the stars.

Excuse me? Yes? Did you write that song? No, Nick Harkinall did. Then why are you singing it? Do you want... Do you want copyright material on your podcast? Ah, yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'll note down to cut that. Um...

Should this client tick our boxes? It's a meeting. Not sure if it's a client. What time is their appointment? In 15 minutes. I'll message Sherlock. He might be interested. This guy is a scientist. Professor. Professor. Right. Messaging the big guy. Get down here. Potential client inbound. Bring my laptop and my notepad and a biscuit.

Send, write, that edit reminder. To cut simply read for uploading and getting sued.

Oh, early worm. Early bird. What? It's early bird, not early worm. Oh. But, wait, wait, wait. The early bird eats the worm. Yeah, early bird catches the worm. The bird is early. Yes, but the worm is there already. Ignore the worm. Forget about the worm. It's early bird. Yeah, worm sounds like he arrived earlier. Can we answer the door without arguing about worms in front of an actual professor? Fine. Hi, uh...

James? Sorry? Are you our professor? I have you down for an eleven o'clock. No, apologies. I haven't made an appointment. Oh, you haven't? Is there time? Something rather peculiar has taken place and I'd very much like to discuss it.

You have been disturbed since the early hours, sir, and have rushed to come visit us. I have, yes. Well noted. But it's nearly eleven. What kept you? What? The time. It's nearly eleven. It can't be. I assure you, it is. No, but... I was... I awoke... Look, see? Ten-fifty. Right. I...

I could have sworn it was the afternoon. If the mystery was finding out the time, we're glad to be of service. But I suspect it's more than that. I... I was in the country. Right near Esher, Mr Holmes, and it... Oh, good Lord, what is going on? Let him in. Yeah, we have another appointment. Pretty sharpish. Then we best get to the matter at once. Okay, um, please come through.

Welcome to Sherlock & Co. Here's your laptop and notepad. Thanking you. And biscuit. Yep, cheers. It was a shooting trip to Surrey. Shooting? Like, for game? Absolutely.

Grouse, pheasant, partridge, quail. Right. Woodcocks, snipe. Okay. Teal, mallards, pigeons, all sorts, really. Yes, sounds it. I've been invited by a prospective investor, a friend from working in the city. I'm going to pause you there, Mr. Eccles, and thank you for your time. But as my colleagues mentioned, we have another client now. Oh...

Cheerio to you, good sir. I realise I don't have an appointment, but you have done nothing but stare at your phone. Occasional glancing, rather than staring, I'd say. But this is urgent. You noted it yourself that I came as quickly as I could. Yes, I did note it. Noted that you shave daily. You didn't today. Your hair is stuck up around the crown from a deep sleep.

You've missed a button on your shirt. You have a headache from a lack of caffeine and you didn't brush your teeth. Not to mention you've missed your Fajr and Sunrise prayer. You've got another one coming up. Feel free to use upstairs. Mecca is that way. No, hold on now. Just... This is a lot to take in. Why won't you listen to me? Shh!

Because we have an appointment. And I believe you do as well, Mr. Eccles. An appointment that you have neglected to inform us of. What? D.I. Tom Gregson. The man responsible for my glances towards my device. I have a few messages from him. He was expecting you at Scotland Yard nearly an hour ago. I was told you were private. I am. Then why are you conversing with the police? Why are you not? Bye-bye now, Mr. Eccles. Wait!

I have been in contact with CPS POC in regards to, um, in regards to... CPS POC? Crown Prosecution Service Proceeds of Crime Unit. They investigate those suspicious of money laundering, of dealing with criminal funds, of concealing, disguising or transferring criminal assets and property.

But that's another concealment, isn't it, Mr. Eccles? You're not merely in contact with them. You work for their task force, do you not? How... If you want to go undercover as a rich man, you best start dressing and conversing like one. You're not even wearing a watch, for goodness sake. The most prominent symbol of a braggart's wealth, Mr. Eccles. Who are you investigating? I... I didn't want to lie to you. Mm-hmm. I just...

It's a dangerous business, is all. Should I go and tell the... Yes. Ask them to come back another time. I urge you not to pry too deeply into our work, Mr. Holmes. I just want you to hear this singular case. What if I wish to pry? No. It's not what I'm here for. But it's what I wish to know. Then I shall leave and take my mystery with me. Why do you shoo me away, Mr. Eccles? Because...

That is a web, sir, that I do not wish you to fly into. Why not? Because of he that nestles in its center. Sharp, watchful eyes, long, probing legs, and deep fangs, Mr. Holmes, with a venom. A venom that would kill us all.

He's gone. Who's gone? The guy. Our appointment. John Scott Eckles. Hm? You have your wish. Tell me of your pressing matter. I will discern the rest. Thank you. All of you, thank you. And please assure Gregson that I will speak with full disclosure once I have surmised my shooting trip. At least, just in this brief moment, to you good people. The task force has been running for about four years.

created by the CPS and National Crime Agency, and of course Scotland Yard. We investigate what I suppose you would call dark money. Due to my background, and as an Arabic speaker, I was charged with looking at funds and operators coming out of Damascus. From the new regime or the old? Ha, yes. Well, a pertinent question. As you know, it's a rather complicated mess out there.

Lots of powerful people looking to get their funds out. Others looking to piggyback on the funds being poured in to get a piece of the action. Back a militia there and a government program here. Support this leader and that leader. It's gambling, really. Coming in behind certain forces in the hope you can cash in later down the line. Sometimes with literal cash.

Sometimes just with power. So, what does Syria have to do with you guys? And Scotland Yard? Yes, well, to sum up, the crime agency and us are tracking individuals tied to the dark money, and it... Look, I know Britain may not always feel like much at times on the world stage, but...

There is a reason it is a global financial powerhouse, and it's not something the country can celebrate all that proudly. I'm not taken aback by this information, Mr. Eccles. There's money in this city that seeks a wider influence. Money that feels around in the dark for chaos. Your spider. Yes, but on this occasion...

It wasn't he who I was tracking. Just a... Spider-Ling. Garcia. Ali Garcia. Doesn't sound Syrian. Central American background. His family were chased out of Bolivia in 1971 following a coup. They settled in the Middle East and clung to the rocketing oil prices. The rest is... well, politics. You went undercover? That's correct.

I befriended Ali Garcia a couple of years ago. Our government plays both sides, you see. They indulge these individuals for monitoring purposes. We got close. I built plenty of trust with our friend. Credit in the bank, as it were. As in a genuine friend, or you befriended him as part of an investigation? These things are always so hard to tell, even when you're right there in the clutches of it.

Wow.

Amazing. Hmm. A teeny bit boring as far as my special interests are concerned. But not immensely boring at least. Not yet anyway, Mr. Eccles. Yes, right. Well, now we turn to your field, Mr. Holmes. A few weeks back, I finally get an invite to his house in Esher. Wisteria Lodge. Quite the property. Incredible grounds.

The regime collapse was all over the news at this point and I couldn't help feeling that Mr. Garcia was ready to make some moves. Reinvest in his homeland, now Assad was gone. And he relied very much on me when it came to signaling to various parties that his money was to be moved. We booked in a weekend for the new year. It got shifted around a bit, then finally all systems go.

Anyway, I ventured down to Esher yesterday morning. He wanted to do a bird shoot. Not harem in Islam, as long as it's breeding season. So, yeah, we had a decent little shoot on the Friday, scored myself a couple of pheasants, and we were able to talk a little business. The technical challenges with his money...

He even had a little presentation of how we could get funds to the forces he wanted and so on. But the rest of the evening was, I suppose, rather stale in that area. It became casual. He spent a lot of time on his phone. We lounged around. There wasn't the...

Urgency, I expected. Considering I was called down there for my services. And you are certain he has no comprehension that you are an undercover agent for a government task force? Absolutely certain, yes. Ali Garcia doesn't suffer impostors. Indeed.

Continue. He arranged for me to stay in the mansion and dine with his friend. How many friends? Just two other gentlemen. I'd met them before. They're advisors. Old friends. We'd all got on very well. I don't want you to picture them as some heavies, as it were, trying to expose me. We were friends. It's...

We share this faith, the love of Damascus. It wasn't a forced social occasion on his part or theirs. Perhaps that's why it became so casual. Anyway, yes, he gave me a room. I go up. So there was just a bird shoot and everyone went to bed? We had dinner and then bed, yes. How was the dinner? Apart from casual chatting, anything remotely serious? It was fine. I...

detected a slight frustration from Ali. Why? The food was pretty poor. His cook let him down a little, I'd say, with the pheasant in particular. But the waitress he had was very charming, effervescent, told a couple of Syrian jokes. Pause. We now have six individuals in this house. I...

Yes, that's right. Would have appreciated that information immediately, but fine. Ali Garcia. Two close friends of his, two staff, and yourself. Correct. Casual but underwhelming dinner, then off to bed. Yes, and that's when the...

peculiarities began. Why? You shoot pheasant in the morning. That's when there's plenty of them. Early birds. Indeed. So they had a shoot planned for the next day. First thing. Plus, we were near a military air base, I believe, a few miles away, and that scares the birds once they all get flying around in the afternoon. You can really hear those choppers whoosh past. Anyway, I go to bed.

I don't set an alarm, as I was told the staff go round and wake you with a nice coffee and such. Well, who knows if it was nice with that cook. And Ali himself even woke me by mistake at 1am, as he forgot I was there and was looking for his iPad or something. Forgot I was there, for crying out loud. Morning comes, and there I was, in this grand old bedchamber.

I look at the little digital alarm clock next to my bed. It's nearly 9:00 a.m. They told us we'd be woken at 5:45 a.m. I hopped out of bed, quickly chucked on some clothes just to check in really with everyone, see what's happened. And I couldn't find a single soul. Maybe they went on the chute? The vehicles were all on the drive from the chute the day before.

The gun cabinets were full. The requisite attire was still in the cloakrooms. And not only that. I had been shown where the shoot was going to take place and it was visible from the upstairs window. There was no shooting taking place in that field. Did nobody message you? Absolutely not.

The second I noted things were wrong, the phone went straight off. Why? He's concerned it's been tampered with. Correct. And you had no messages? Well, at a very, very brief glance, I saw nothing on there, no. What about the staff? The cook and the waitress? Not a single soul, Mr Holmes. I had pretty much exhausted my search downstairs, and so I thought it best to head back up and check the bedrooms.

Garcia had shown me his room the night before during his little tour, so I knew where it was. Got to the top of the stairs, went down the hallway, knock-knock sort of thing, and no answer. I go inside. Nobody there. The bed hadn't even been slept in. Maybe it was, and he had some kind of chambermaid. I...

Perhaps. Were the curtains open or closed? Closed. If the room was refreshed by staff that morning, the curtains would have been open. Good point. I knocked on every bedroom door, looking for the two associates, and it was the same situation. I quickly left.

Stopped at a payphone and called the police. Local police? In Surrey? No. Why not? Because I could spend hours explaining to a Surrey PC that I was working undercover dealing with high financial crimes, of which he's not going to believe me. Or I could just call Scotland Yard. I did so.

I informed them of the situation. I told them I'd come to them. And they contacted the Surrey Constabulary to secure the property? I believe that is the case, yes. Yet you came here first. That's correct. Why? Because I know you like a predicament. We solve crimes, Mr Eccles. No, the police do.

We appreciate this enormously, Mr. Eccles. Do we? Yes, we do. Wonderful. Here. Here is my card. Please.

Keep me updated on everything you find. Yes, and I will ask that Gregson does the same with what he finds. What he finds with what? With you and your spider. Good day, Mr. Eccles. We'll be in touch.

Mariana. Hooking a trip to Isher as we speak. Excellent. Watson. On hold with Sari Constabulary already, mate. Wonderful. But no shooting any birds, OK? Not the kind of game I'm interested in, Mariana. The game is afoot. Ha ha ha, I said it first. Ha ha ha. Hello, Sari. Yes, hello there, officer. My name is John Watson. MUSIC PLAYS

Welcome to Esher in Surrey, everyone. Esher, spelled Esher, pronounced E-sher. Don't know why. Bit silly really, but that's not what we're here to investigate. Esher is not far out of London at all. It's just near Kingston, which is kind of a... Don't know really, like a southwest gateway into the big sprawling capital.

I've been banging on about Esher but we're actually just outside it, closer to a place called Oxshot. And actually not far from Chessington World of Adventures, if anyone cares.

But Chessington will have to wait, of course, as we have an adventure of our own. I'm here with crime-solving stalwarts Miss Mariana Amechizura and Mr Sherlock Holmes. You may have heard of them. We are currently heading to Wisteria Lodge, which we can see in the distance. I thought we had arrived, but turns out it was just

the gatehouse to a much larger property that seems to be at the end of the world's longest driveway. Well, you did tell the cab driver to stop. First off, I didn't say stop. I said anywhere around here is fine, mate. Yes, well, it is obviously not fine. And secondly, how

How was I to know that the house was going to be 20 minutes from the gate? The poor bloody postman that delivers to this place, honestly. It's only 20 minutes because we are walking it. Because you said to the cab driver to... I know what I said to him, all right? I was trying to be polite. Hey, what do you think they do with their bins? You don't think they wheel them down this thing every Tuesday night, surely not? They should get a little golf cart, take the bins in that. OK, sure, but...

Can we get back to the case, please? What did Surrey Police say? They are there in the house. Maybe they can come and give us a lift. They said they were going to speak to Scotland Yard once all the confidential stuff was sorted between Eccles and whatever. I don't know, but Surrey Police are aware of the situation. OK, and what else? Well, nothing else.

I don't have other updates, so you might be told to bugger off. We might be told to come right in. As Mr Eccles pointed out, what crime exactly has taken place? There's people missing. Not reported missing by any friends or family, but by a house guest who they could easily have been spooked by. So? So, the Surrey Constabulary have plenty more to be getting on with, I would hope.

So along with Ali Garcia, there were two friends of his. Yep. And two staff. The waiter and the cook. Correct. And then there was Mr Eccles. Oh, three out of three, Mariana. Well done. Well, six out of six, technically. Eccles wakes up. Everyone is gone. Yeah, everybody. And vehicles left behind. Weird. It's the Mary Celeste.

The what? Mary Celeste. It was a ship from, like, 1800s, I think. Someone sees it floating in the ocean and tries to, I don't know, flash it to communicate, give a signal to it, or whatever. There's no response.

they eventually go on board, nobody there. Nobody on the ship? Yep, yep, but fully stocked with food and booze. It was clean, no signs of any damage, but the last diary entry was like a week before. Nothing suspicious, just whoosh, gone. Oi, that's creepy. Yeah, yeah, well, now we're going to have a very similar experience, but in this giant evil mansion. Yes, it is rather imposing, isn't it? Yep. Yep.

Shall we? Oh, why the hell not? Because the last people went missing and haven't been heard from since? Yeah, that's a good reason. But not good enough. Chop chop. Here's all the vehicles. That's a lot of Land Rovers. Yeah, green as well. They like to play armies, these blokes, but shooting idiotic birds is easier. What exactly is idiotic about a pheasant? Mariana, we just saw, like, three of them try to kill themselves under our taxi. Maybe they were looking for a ride. Well, he didn't have his light on, which proves they're idiots.

Sherlock Holmes! Yes, hello. Inspector Baines, Surrey Constabulary. Good to meet you. Bloody brilliant to meet you, sir. I'm an avid follower of your work. You are? I am, absolutely. Love it. Oh, you listen to the show? I mean, kind of. On in the background.

It's a bit overproduced for me. But I do go through your reports and notes very often. Oh, I write those. No way. Yes. Mariana here does the reports and I will go through each point with her. That's amazing. Well, please do come in, you two. Three, I mean. Hiya, Josh. John. John, of course. Come on in. Welcome to Wisteria Lodge. Wow, it's beautiful. Breathtaking, isn't it?

A bit tacky and a bit Trump Tower here and there, but stunning. Tell me Baines, what are your observations on this problem of ours? Well, where do we start? We have a number of missing gentlemen, all of Syrian statehood, kind of internationalists. All got connections across Europe and Asia, very much the upper crust of Damascus I'd say.

But to narrow down on the problematic area, the person that concerns me the most is the homeowner, Garcia. Does he now? Let me show you why, Mr. Holmes. Come through this way to the kitchen. He's a bit smug, isn't he? Who? Meems? Yeah, it's like, alright mate, people are missing. There's no need to be so suave about it. What was that? I said it's a beautiful home.

Very suave decor. Oh, very much so. Right, just here. What are we looking at exactly? It's your standard smart display. There's a few of them dotted round the house. We can see Garcia's engagements on the calendar. Yes, exactly. And you see today... Shooting with S. Eccles. If I scroll... It doesn't let me... Wait. I, calendar, what were my appointments yesterday?

How is this suspicious? This is just his calendar. Watch this. I, calendar, what other appointments do I have this month? Stop.

I hope I don't taint your lofty opinion of me, Inspector Baines, but I fail to see why this calendar incriminates Ali Garcia. There is no flight from Heathrow to Cairo on the 23rd at 2:35. And not only does Nobu Mayfair not have a booking under his name, the building is being renovated from now until the middle of next month. Other events scheduled in the calendar are all these vague, ambiguous meetings and dates and appointments.

The only one with real substance is that of hosting Mr. Eccles. A man who... Is working with the Crown Prosecution Service. Exactly. I must congratulate you, Inspector, on handling so distinctive and instructive a case. Your powers, if I may say so without offence, seem superior to your opportunities. Goodness me. That's massive. Thank you so much.

Yeah, a bit lost here guys. His word, Mr Eccles that is, is ironclad. He's an agent of law enforcement. Garcia wanted the authorities to know that he was with Mr Eccles. With a man that would not lie. A man that would report back the truth. But why? This is the room Eccles stayed in. You can see the field he mentioned to you guys out the window.

That's where their shoot today would have taken place. Military air base has been quiet. What has? The air base... This clock is wrong. Where? His bedside clock. It's over two hours fast. Look. Excellent. We have the person for our alibi, Mr. Baines. And now we have the window of time. Of course. Genius.

Is it? Garcia didn't enter this room at 1am. He just wanted Eccles to think he entered his room at 1am. Oh, yeah, I see, I see. Yeah, that's a nifty trick. So something terrible must have happened last night. At 1am. Indeed.

I would like to try your bed again. You tried my bed already. Yes, but I need to feel the formations it makes against my sleeping placements. No, you don't. Yes, I do. Hello, everyone. We are still just outside of Isha.

We are now in a self-accommodating... accommodation? Little cabin on like a campsite type thing. It was this or a B&B and I think we liked the look of this one more, didn't we? No, we didn't. We hated this one. Yeah, so it's just a one-room cabin, but it's a family room, so...

Three beds. Well, four, actually, if you include the floor. What the hell is wrong with you? Why would anyone include the floor? I'm just being optimistic about our lodgings. It's better than being in a manor house where five people disappeared, isn't it? We weren't allowed anyway. Yeah, so, we are in our cabin in need of a good rest ahead of tomorrow's work. Yes, very good. Sorry? Just a message. An amusing message on my phone. OK, so...

Yeah. Lots to investigate tomorrow. We're actually researching Ali Garcia. Right. Now, I've got a few... Sherlock? Mm-hmm? Is there something you'd like to share with the group? I'm just messaging Baines. Right. Truly a brilliant mind, that one. In what way? His observations are just...

They're so refined. You got any examples? 'Cause he thought I was called Josh, mate. He's a high-level thinker, Watson. He most likely grades and sorts concepts by their perceived value. Concept? It's not a concept, it's a fucking name! John! It's like the most basic name in the world! To be fair, this high-level thinker right here called me Mrs Hudson for a year. Baines knows what to look for. He knows the significance in the unobvious. He can sift through the noise and find that... core.

That white hot core on which to build a system of hypothesis. Exceptional. Right, well, good for Baines. Anyway, we are planning on retracing the steps of... What does he mean the show is overproduced? Like, it's a microphone, mate. I take a microphone around and it catches the sound of things we come across. What is highly produced about that? Huh? High level thinker? I think he possibly has a point. I'll just pick a stupid bed.

I want this one. Great. Excuse me. No, no, no, no. Not great. That's mine? Have my one. But you're set in it. So? Are you in your boxers? Yeah. Yeah, no thanks. Oh, thanks very much. Well, aren't you two lovely today? Don't mind me. Just going to return to my overproduced podcast. I think Baines has really illuminated a key factor in this case. Oh, God's sake. Ali Garcia chose Mr Eccles to be his alibi. Yet all five men in the building are now missing.

Let's think of Garcia's background. Money? Er, politics? Yes. He exists in a world of fierce political rivalries. Then an abrupt turn of events all those thousands of miles away in Damascus. He's an exile from a regime that has now fallen, which in turn... Creates more exiles. Exactly. And I suppose that justice is being delivered to those that used to run things, right?

So, Garcia is begrudged? He was nearly killed out there and the people that did it have lost all their power? All of it, John? Or was there enough to get them to safety? To conceal themselves in the nooks of a European capital? So, what is the connection between Wisteria Lodge and the missing men and a war-torn country? And that, Mariana, is where the fun lies. Night-night.

I have some thinking to do. Yeah, coming. Who is it? I haven't actually done the bit where I open the door yet, Mariana. It'll be Baines. Oh, you're reading his mind as well now, are you? Hi. Hey, Inspector Raines. Baines. Is Sherlock there? Yes. What is it? We have something. A pair of dog walkers. Linda and Martin Fern discovered him this morning. Him? Who's him? Well...

He's a VIP, as far as this case is concerned. Have we found Garcia's victim? We have not, Mr. Holmes. Oh. Oh, my God. Oh, no. No. We haven't found Garcia's victim. We found Garcia. He's obliterated. I know. This... This is grotesque.

How is this possible? We could only identify him by his ID and some dental records that we obtained from a Harley Street practitioner. I can't believe my eyes. I need to step away. Sorry. Sorry. What are you thinking, Sherlock? I'm thinking this case just became more complicated. No, no, no!

There's another body. God in heaven. Oh my God, they're everywhere. It's as if they've fallen out of the sky. To binge this adventure in full and without ads, go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co.

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