The Norwood Builder - Part One
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Yes, hello. Um, right. Go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co for early access ad-free adventures in full. Bonus episodes. Your handwriting is terrible. Yeah, I'm a doctor. Munch, munch more. That's patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co.

It's me, it's Dr John Watson. It's not, um, yeah, the diary of a CEO guy, or, uh, oh come on, name another podcaster, John. Um, or not, just do the intro like a normal person. Welcome to the adventure of the Norwood Builder. Swearing coming your way, murder coming your way, and, um, possibly some other...

problematic stuff that I've forgotten, but for full trigger warnings, dip into the episode description. Enjoy. Oh, this is a four-parter. Bye. Welcome, everyone, to the Sherlock & Co podcast. No, I don't say that, do I? What do I say? Sherlock & Co. Well, welcome, everyone, to Sherlock & Co. Not Sherlock & Co podcast. Right, anyway. Great intro, John. That's why you lost in all three British Podcast Award categories. Right, welcome...

I'm here with Genghis Khan and Julius Caesar and this one is Camilla Parker-Bowles. Feels like she might be in the wrong section. Welcome to Madame Tussauds. For those that don't know what that is, you must be very confused. It's a waxwork museum where famous, infamous and all-round notable people are recreated in wax form and put on display.

Now, I cannot tell you how close we live to this place. It is a stone's throw from the flat. A literal stone's throw. I mean, it would have to be a really, really good throw, but a stone's throw nonetheless. And this is the first time we've actually bothered to come here. Usually what I do when I walk past is I just tut at the crowds and roll my eyes, but I tell you what, I can see now what they're on about.

Great stuff. So lifelike. Not that I know what Genghis Khan looks like. Nor Julius Caesar. But, you know, it's very believable. There's a few exhibitions on US presidents, tyrants of time. Again, not sure why Camilla has found her way over here. Marvel superheroes. There's various pop stars. Just over Mussolini's salute, I think I can see Beyonce. Welcome to the Hall of Heroes.

track down Mariana as I've somehow lost her. Err... Erm...

Ah, there she is. See the back of her head. Mary. Mariana. Oh. No. Oh, there you are. Did you just... No, no. Yes, you did. No, I didn't. You thought that was me? Nope, not true. Let's go. That's Gimli from The Lord of the Rings. Yeah, no, but from behind. Oh, so from behind I do look like Gimli. That's what you're saying. Don't hide behind Captain America. Help me, Cap.

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.

Icaride, Icarido, I'm at Svana

Barbaric. Utterly barbaric. Sherlock, you're making me feel bad. And you should. How much longer, mate? Well, I'll have to set it off shortly, then. You'll have to vacate in case we get a link. Set what off? A bomb. A rodent bomb. So this is a bomb, that's what you mean to say? You're bombing the mouse? Can I ask that you put that back in my case, please, mate? They're rather harmful, you know? Mm-hm. So...

You put the bomb where? You see where the mouse has made a hole in the skirting ball? Yep. Yep. Just got enough room to put the rodent bomb in there so I've checked to make sure the rest is sealed. The bomb will go in. I'll then seal up his entrance with this. A little plastic box. Yeah, a humane trap essentially. The bomb will smoke him out and he'll come scurrying away from it and into here and we can, you know...

Take him away. And then what, Pest Control Graham? Then what? Well, we can terminate him. I hope you're proud of yourself. It's my flat, Sherlock. It's our office. Yes, but I sleep right there. I don't want a mouse eating and...

Oh, grabbing in my lounge. Tell you what, let's get a case on the go and we can get out of here, onto the streets, solve some crime, come back, this is all sorted. Would I be able to visit the mouse? Goodness sake. We do have a release programme, you know. To release the mouse? Yeah, it's another 60 quid plus that. Excellent. We'll take it.

When and where will the mouse be released? Er, has to pass tests first, make sure it's not, you know, carrying any harmful infections and all that. Keep me informed of his progression. Got to catch him first, don't we? Sherlock, listen, I have cases. A woman here in Chichester, her husband took out a life insurance policy on her. I'll be staying in London, thank you. Great, OK. Thanks. London once. Er...

To, uh, mugging in Belsize Park. I don't like mugging cases. A beaker in St. Luke's Church, um, SE270DT, says donated food is going missing. Doesn't sound like a master criminal at work, does it? Okay, jeez, um... Are you doing it? Is the bomb detonation imminent? It's not the Manhattan Project, Sherlock. Just, uh, setting it off now.

And now we seal it off. The mouse right there. Tickle ring, tickle ring. And there he is. Oh, poor guy. Where was your empathy before the vomit? I think we, um, possibly a slight leak. Don't worry about that, I'll sort that out in two seconds. Yeah, we should probably head upstairs.

I'm not your housekeeper. Did I insinuate that I thought you were? No, but I feel like every time I'm in your apartment, I'm doing your dishes. You don't have to. No, no, I do have to. I can't look at that pile that builds up right by the window where all the flies and the bugs and stuff get in.

What is this? That would be wax. Why is there wax all over this plate? I suspect there's a coating for hard cheese. It's melted. Yes, it's right by the window. Oh, you guys. Has anyone seen my microphone? No. I've left it recording somewhere. I don't know where. OK. What do you mean, OK? Can you help me find it, please? I'm helping Mariana with the washing up.

No, you're not. I'm answering your questions. Oh, never mind. Found it right next to the sharpest mind in the country. The man that observes all. Is that me? Is it? Yeah, well, apparently not. Okay, plates done. They're stacked here to dry. Pots done. And glasses are drying here. Okay? Okay. I was going to do the washing up. How would you like it if I came into your flat and started tidying up? I'd love it. Be honest. Okay, I'd hate it. Exactly. Exactly.

Speaking of your flat, what are you going to do? What do you mean? Well, you saw it. It's like stars in their eyes down there. I, er... Actually, I don't know what that means. You could stay in 221B, the lad pad. You don't call it that. Please tell me you don't call it that. No, we don't. But we could. Huh. You know, you could stay over. We could stay up late prank-calling people, playing truth or dare with each other. What's truth or dare? I'll show you. Truth or dare? What?

Give me a truth, or you do a dare. What kind of truth? About yourself. Like some scandalous stuff or family stuff. I'll take the dare. All right. Oh, eat this. John! What? That is Archie's dried food. You're gross. I'm not asking him to eat the whole bowl. It's just one piece. All right. No, no. Yes!

A little stale. I am definitely not staying here. No? Not tempted? Nope. Now, I'm going to wipe down these surfaces with the wipes I use. These are antibacterial. They're not just wet rags that... Oh, my God. What, another mouse? Is that a...

There's a gun on the counter. Sherlock! Ah, apologies. Yes, I was using it last night. You were using a gun in here? Sherlock, you can't do that. The magazine release was catching. I was merely lubricating it.

Hide this. I don't want a client reporting us to the police. Well, I'd quite like the police reporting us to a client. Put the gun away. I shall. Or perhaps you'd like to assassinate the mouse you just targeted with your chemical weaponry. Put the gun away. Can you hand it to me, please? Thank you. No, I will not. I don't want to touch that thing. I'll get the door then, shall I? You two are in a lovely mood today.

Hello there. Sherlock Holmes. Close. John Watson. Is he next door? No, he's upstairs. Are you looking for Sherlock and Kirk? Yes. Yes. That's right. Could I... Well, would it be a bother if I popped in? Yeah. Sure. Come on in. Thank you. Thank you so much. I'm Hector. Hector McFarlane. You're Sherlock Holmes. John Watson. Oh, bugger! Yes, of course. You said that already, didn't you? Just a little bloody... Your head's all over the place and I...

I'm pissed off! To tell you the truth, I've had this... This whole thing is...

I've really had it up to here. All right, all right. We're just upstairs. Do you want to come up and see if we can, you know, talk it out, see if we can help? Yes, please. Now, time is pressing. Very bloody pressing. And I cannot stress how important it is that we get to the bottom of what the hell is going on with this absolute farce of an investigation. Hi, guys. Hi. This is Hector. Hector McFarlane. Hi there. Marianna Mitzefurra. Hi. Sherlock Holmes. Excellent. You're the man.

Splendid. Right-o. Do you take my coat, do you? Yeah, I mean, I can. There. Do you want a cup of tea or anything, Hector? No, there's no time, really. Now, we must, we really must crack on. Now, may I sit here? Yeah, sure. You're a solicitor. I am, yes. And you're on the run. The run. The run.

Very much so. Very, very much so. How'd you get there? Well-dressed, briefcase for documents, faint ink on fingertips, scales of justice cufflinks. And he's seeking immediate criminal assistance. A wise move. And he's a bellend? Did that observation jump out at you? A little. Who are you on the run from? The police. Now...

I can see the way you're all looking at me, but it is really not like that. It's really not. You'd better start from the beginning, Mr McFarlane. Well, it began with a... One of those things... What are they called? The bloody... The portable oven! That you do all sorts in these days!

An air fryer. An air fryer, yes. With one basket or the ones with a dual? A dual, I think. High end, John Lewis. I never used the thing, but that's... Listen, I must be quick. This bloody air fryer. My wife wanted one. And I said, Shireen, we don't have the space. She said, we do, Hector. We have the space. It's a big kitchen and all this.

And I said, no, we don't have the counter space. The kitchen counter. There's not enough room. You've got the kettle, the microwave. I have a medicine box for my blood pressure and such. Then you've got the sink. You've got the auger on the other side. An auger! That thing alone, that's half your utility bills just keeping that thing warm. She wants an air fryer. Then the pantry on the other side. There's no chance. There's no pissing room, for heaven's sake. Nowhere near enough.

She said, we should swap out the coffee machine. And I said, Shireen, that is a two and a half thousand quid barista bar. It's not a coffee machine. They use that thing in gales. Anyway, guess what happens? You get the air fryer? We get the air fryer. I swear, I used to have a backbone like a goalpost. Firm, rigid. Now with that woman, it's a corner flag swaying to her every want and need. God's sake! Deep breath sector.

Deep... What's that fucking yoga thing? What is it? Pirah, piranha, Panama breath. Pranayama breathing. Ah, that's the one. Shireen got me on that yoga to try and calm me down. In the nose? In through your nose, yes. In the nose. Out the mouth. Out the mouth. There we go. Calm. Calm. Calm. Cucking arse and calm. Let me just gather myself.

Yep, yep, all good. So, we get the bastard air fryer, right? And sure enough, I'm right, she's wrong. No room. No room for the thing.

She wants to get rid of the microwave. She wants to stop using the kettle and just use the coffee machine. I said, what about tea? And she says, the coffee machine does hot water. And I said, I'm not spraying boiling hot water into a teacup, for Christ's sake. We use a kettle in this house. We're not Canadians. I said to her, is that what you want, Shireen? You want us to live like Canadians? I refuse to. To Canadians. Never mind. Carry on. So...

we decide to get a whole kitchen renovation. And I think, well, that's just bloody marvellous, isn't it? Let's tear up the whole kitchen for this bare fryer. We get a few quotes from various builders and what have you, all just bollocking on about the space and we should extend out the back and all this. Oh, do me a favour. This is Blackheath. I know they're going to charge me through the nose and then some local do-gooder will have me reported for disturbing the...

Oh, I don't know, that topsoil or some nonsense. Anyway, it drags on and we eventually get a guy from... Oh, jeez. What's it called? Norwood. A fella from Norwood. Jonas Oldacre. Oh. But he's dead. Hector, he was... He was murdered. But he's dead. Hector, he was... He was murdered. Supposedly.

No body has been found yet, Watson. Yeah, but... Now listen, you said you would hear me out, didn't you? Do you want to just dial it down a bit, Hector? Would you? Would you dial it down when you're smeared over every paper? Look at this. Look at this. In the Times here, look. Solicitor suspected for contractor disappearance. The Telegraph.

Solicitor faces long arm of law. The Daily Mail. Bully of Blackheath. Elite London lawyer facing murder charge. I mean, this is just... This is... This is... The Guardian. Here, look at this. Old Acre Murder. How neoliberal materialism and Kirsty Allsop home renovations are the real killers of the working... Oh, well, that one goes on a bit. Yeah, we get the point. Do you? Do you? I'm not sure you do. The Daily Sport. The Daily Sport.

Big job love. McFarlane's wife's steamy romp with missing builder. I mean, look, there's a thought bubble above my wife's head saying, knob the builder, can he fix it? Hector. The speech bubble as well. Here's your extension, love. I mean, this is just the sun. Cannibal Hector. McFarlane confesses to eating Norwood tradesmen.

You confessed to what? Sorry. I didn't confess to a damn thing. I said I was hungry for justice. That's all. It is slander. It's disgraceful. It's bloody humiliating. Could we perhaps return to the chain of events as you, not the press, perceive them? We, we, no. Jonas was very nice, all right? The second he came around, we could tell that this quote was going to be what we were looking for.

He was accommodating. He didn't think we needed an extension. He talked about a simple wraparound countertop that, yes, was very sleek, but it wasn't extortionate. We book him for the job, and he gets to work the following week. And then it begins. What exactly begins, Hector? Oh, the parameters begin to shift.

They always do with builders, don't they? "Oh, this material's not available. Let's go for this one." "Oh, that's not up to regs, so we'll have to do all this sort of stuff."

But no, Jonas was worse than that. I come home one day, "Alright Jonas" sort of thing. He says, "Um, you need a steel beam across the erector mate." I said, "I beg your pardon?" He said, "Yeah, steel beam." For structural support. Structural support, exactly. He says, "It's gonna cross four grand." I said, "Jonas, we want new countertops, wrap around like you said."

He says, we don't have the floor space, so we'll have to increase it. We need to blow the wall out into the garden for a few feet. Bigger kitchen, natural light. And I said, are you fucking kidding me? This man comes into my kitchen under false pretenses, smashes the place to bits, pulls out the oven, the dishwasher, all the cupboards and counters, and holds me to ransom. To ransom!

I said I'm not bloody having this. You are taking the piss. We have this big row. Shireen comes back and I...

I told him. I told him in no uncertain terms. I'm taking you to court, mate. You are screwed. I got the initial quote signed. I got it guaranteed by him. He said he didn't usually do that kind of thing. And now I see why. I said, you do your little extension. You do whatever it is that you think works. But I am not paying a damn penny more.

He said he'd lose out. I said, so be it. Lose out in court for ten times the amount for all I care. Finish the job or get shut down. My wife managed to cool the situation. To simmer it down. Me in particular. I have quite a short temper, you see. I do see, yes. Um, look. The days and weeks went on. The kitchen work was... Well, it was coming along all right.

And the tension, well, if you could call it that, had dissipated a little. I think he knew I had him. You don't mess with a solicitor, do you, really? Anyway, he had taken out the back wall and we had sorted planning permission. Well, we didn't actually need planning in the end, as it was rear-facing work. And it was looking rather good, I have to say. Could really see his idea coming together.

And we actually started to really get on. We chatted about the Arsenal and a bit of rugby. And then on. Last Monday, I came back from work and Jonas was still at the house, which was odd, as I had been working late. Well, very late, so I expected to not see him. And he was actually...

He'd hung around for some legal advice. He said his partner was pregnant, recently pregnant, and he wanted to draw up a will. And he asked if I could help out. And he said if I helped him, he would knock down some of the labour costs even more. And I thought, well, why not, you know? I mean, I arranged the forms for him. I made a draft contract where he could fill in the relevant parties, himself, the key beneficiaries and so on.

And I said I could sign it. When he'd filled it all in, I thought it would take him some time, but he was right back the next morning before I was even out for work. The forms were on the side, ready to be signed by me. I signed it, caught him as I was heading off on my bike, and I said to him, we'll make a couple of copies and I can get it filed at work. And that was the last time I saw Jonas Oldacre. That was the last time ever.

anyone saw Jonas Oldacre. Later that day, the 14th, I was in a meeting and one of my colleagues, knock knock on the door sort of thing, "Hector, can I have a word?" he says. I said, "Sure Charlie." I left the meeting room, I walked down the hallway and Dame Gwen Lestrade is there. Oh. Yeah, exactly.

And I sort of did a double take. You know the face from the TV, but you're not sure. So she introduces herself and she says she's overseeing an investigation that she says concerns her greatly. And I say, oh, what's that? And she says, the murder of Jonas Oldacre. I swear to God, my knees go weak. I'm just staring at her. And I look down to the desk that she's...

She's sort of standing over. And there is the will. And look. I don't know how I didn't see it in the kitchen. I've no idea. But I can see the beneficiary. All the belongings, assets and financial holdings of Jonas Oldacre will be left to me. To Hector McFarlane. Oh my God. Everything left to me. Everything? Everything.

Everything. That it... I wouldn't even... I don't even think I'd be authorised to sign the forms as the... Doesn't matter. Look, I'm a legal man. And that is exactly why they tried to intimidate me with Lestrade. So, I stuck to my guns. I said, I will be in contact with my lawyer and I will get back to you. I keep repeating it. They insist it's just a casual chat. I say, no, nope, not having it, back off sort of thing.

I have a chat with a lawyer. I'm not feeling comfortable about it at all. I called some old friends and one of them eventually recommended you, Mr. Holmes. And that's, that's why I'm here.

Mr. McFarlane, I appreciate the visit, and of course the detailed depiction you have provided of the circumstances. No problem at all. Now, what can we do to... But I will be refusing your case. I... what? Yeah, what? I'll pay good money. I doubt that. Why are you refusing my case? Because you killed him, Mr. McFarlane. You killed Jonas Aldacre. How dare you?

dare you there is nothing daring about the truth in my line of work mr macfarlane now it is you who are faced with the choice as the police bear down on you and your options close off truth

Or dare. This is not a game. Actually it is. And I believe you may have lost. Sherlock, maybe if you just explain to Hector... Explain what? How I'm guilty of a crime I didn't commit? How I'm persecuted by the press? How my whole life has been destroyed? I cross-reference. Cross-reference what exactly? My knowledge of the crime I read yesterday with your behaviour I see today.

And I do not wish to aid your cause tomorrow. You're a bastard! And you're a murderer.

You beat him to death with a club hammer. That's not true! A club hammer you took from his own van on the 13th. He messaged his colleague, Chris, asking for its whereabouts the same day, and he was never seen again. The club hammer was found in a local bin lorry following collection. On your street, Mr McFarlane. This really is such nonsense! And they also discovered a 115mm cutting disc, taken from an angle grinder, with

with traces of blood on it. Oh, please! And it would appear that Jonas Oldacre's own angle grinder tool had a new blade replaced. Incorrectly installed, though. Interesting. Almost as if it was hastily put on by an amateur. An amateur who wished to disguise the usage of the previous blade.

And what was that usage, Mr McFarlane? I think I've made it perfectly clear that I have no fucking idea, sir! It was to dismember the body of that poor builder, limb by limb. You liar! You're a liar! Hey, whoa, whoa! Come on, that's all right, come on!

You want to throw an accusation at my wife? Can you throw a punch, lad? Come on. Get the fuck... Get back. Or what? Or I'm going to break those glasses onto your chest bones. Now get back. Here, look. Are you okay? Oh, absolutely. Make sure this makes its way into the arrest report. Shut up.

My knuckle's bleeding. My knuckle. Disgusting. You need to get out of our flat. Now. Just wait for the police, John. They're at the door. Well, then go wait in the kitchen. Watson. I don't want him in here. I'm perfectly all right. There's blood. Yeah, but he won't beat because I swear to God I'm going to punch him in his stupid face. Get off me. Yeah, yeah, with pleasure, you twat. In the kitchen. Now. Whatever. Whatever.

Oh, goodness. Where's my shirt? We should really let the police inside. I'll go answer the door then, yeah? Yes, Mariana, go. Hold that thought just one moment. Sorry, what? Look at me. Yeah, what? No blood, bruise or even blemish. You got a date or something? No. Then why do you...

It's fine. You look fine. Where did he get you? Below the eye, I think. Yep. Yep, you look fine to me. Wow. You're lucky it hasn't swollen and closed right up. Yes. It has, in fact, done rather the opposite.

It has opened my eyes. Are you being you right now, or are you being concussed? Because it's very hard to tell sometimes. Not a mark on me. He threw everything into that right hook, yet nothing. But this is the man that beat a 6ft2 14 stone builder to death with a 2kg club hammer. Just pick a unit, mate, and stick with it. And did you see...

He reacted to the blood on his own hand. His face ran pale. He gagged. His walk into the kitchen, it denoted a spell of dizziness. He was unbalanced and numb. Hector has acute haemophobia. What are you getting at? This is a man that supposedly cut a body to pieces with an angle grinder, Mariana.

You're right. No, no, no, no. Come on. He's just a prick who gives it all out every day of the week. And then when he was finally faced with a confrontation, he just, you know, he had a panic. That's why he's all pale and everything and dizzy. But that was not the order of things, Watson. Nor was it what triggered the symptoms. You saw it. He was bearing down over me, ready for more, until he saw the blood dripping.

Sherlock, just wait. Wait. Leave him in there. No. I need more information on what exactly... What? What is it? Has he fainted? No. He's vanished. To binge this adventure in full and without ads, go to patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co. Sherlock and Co.

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