The Musgrave Ritual - Part Four

Happy New Year folks! I'm here to tell you that in 2026 there is going to be an explosion of content in the Sherlock and Co Patreon. There's already so much stuff and now there will even be new shows and some exclusive Patreon-only adventures. So sign up now for just £6 a month while stocks last. Sorry, I just wanted to say while stocks last. There'll be stocks. Patreon.com forward slash Sherlock and Co. See you there. Previously on Sherlock and Co. What are you saying? I'm saying this story doesn't hold water. Reginald failed to mention the battle axe until we discovered it. He failed to mention the confrontation until we prompted it. He failed to mention the body in his lake. which he may not know about. And now he has clearly misled us by suggesting papers from this bureau were being perused by Richard Brunton. We must have a motive. We need it. Why dispose of Brunton? And who is the man in the ice? The plumber is dead. What did you do? I didn't kill him. I just got this off heat. What is it? The profile picture. Look. Holy shit. This is Roy Howells. Sherlock, that was the face. our frozen man. That was him. He murdered Brunton. Then he murdered the plumber. This is disgraceful! Yeah, yeah, yeah. This is an utter humiliation! No, Mum. Shame on you! Shame on all of you! In the car, sir! No! This was you, Holmes! I have victory. But I don't have a motive, do I? He killed Brunton because he was let down by him. He killed Roy Howells because he was let down by him. Then why did he bring us here? Because he's gone crazy. He's blanked out those fits of rage where he's killed those men. Where's the evidence? Don't do this, mate. Please, don't. We cannot be shoddy, Watson. We must pursue perfection. I said he underestimated me, but he couldn't have. He couldn't have. I showed him in the pub my skill set. His father reminded him constantly of the abilities and properties of my mind. And that is why he bullied me. He was jealous that I got his father's attention, and he didn't. He invited us here to solve it. Or to kill you. Did you ever think of that? It doesn't make sense, Watson. I'm going to do you a favour. I'm going to take this stupid deerstalker off, put that magnifying glass down. These papers are going back in this stupid bureau that won't fucking open. Underneath, you've knocked it loose. What is this? They're papers. What does it say? 1649. The Musgrave Ritual. Welcome to the final part of the Musgrave Ritual. Thank you for joining us on this adventure. Dip into the episode description if you are wary about what may lie ahead. I will see you at the end but right now we return not to Hurlstone Castle just yet but to 221B Baker Street in the middle of the night What in the Jesus man I thought you were coming home tomorrow What time is it? Hey Archie boy My papers, where are they? Literally everywhere man Yeah, check the floor for God's sake I know, I've seen it I've seen it before. Where are you, you bastard? What exactly is going on? Sherlock found something at Hurlstone Castle, and he made me drive a very sketchy route home where we nearly got stuck in the snow twice, just so that he could... Oh, crap. What? We may have abandoned Mariana in a 12th century castle all by herself. Hello there. John? Um... See, this is why you need a filing system, mate. For all your cases. I don't keep files on my cases. What? Why would I do that? So you can recall every detail? The details are in my head, Watson, yes? Where else would I put them? What the hell, Sherlock? Why am I surrounded in all this crap? It is not crap. There. Example. What? What is this? Read it. John's shelf, Sherlock's shelf, miscellaneous. What is this? When we first met, and we first moved in, that note was placed in the fridge. Sherlock, did you keep this for sentimental value? Here, more crap, apparently. Dear Sherlock and co. team, my sweet grandson is struggling with autism. He loves to read and he's the light of my life. Yeah? Hello, if this gets read, I'd like to express just how much this podcast means to me. I'm 12 and autistic and this by far has been one of the best things. Hi, I'm Kai Rose from Buffalo NY. Sherlock has made me realise that I don't need to mask. Thank you so much for everything. I love everything about your team. Dear Sherlock... Sherlock. You keep all this. I do. I keep things that matter to me. Like this. I send you these puzzles not to trick or bemuse you, but to inspire. Be everything you could possibly be. All misregards, Mr. Musgrave, 7th of September, 1999. You kept his letters? I did indeed. Because he meant something to you? Correct. And, what, you think he's given you a puzzle before the... I have read those exact words of the Musgrave ritual before. The exact words, Watson. and they came from my beloved old teacher. Right, okay, fine. Yeah, I'll help look if you're going to get all bloody sentimental about it. Might need a sugar in mine, to be honest. Knackered. What are the dates on those? These ones, yeah, late 90s, early noughties. Yes. We'll be around that time. These are the ones he'd pin to your door? Like Victor said? A mixture. Some, yes, were part of those games and challenges he'd set us. Little mathematical puzzles, sometimes cryptic brain teasers, then treasure hunts and such. Some he would send directly to me. Some he would pin to the door. If Reginald didn't rip them right back down, he'd play along to solve them. Ah, thanks, mate. Stop. Hey, I was about to drink that. Not over that, you're not. I wasn't going to. Relax. No, Watson. Look. What? The imprint of his pen. The writings as if of a ghost. This letter's just a mathematical formula. No, not the ink. Look, hold it to the light, the indentation. That is how it bore into my mind all that time ago. The message was half concealed. Let's see. Where is the Musgrave ritual? From the castle? From the hidden compartment in the Bureau? Yes, yes, yes. Here. Let's compare. I shall read this version. Whose was it? His who is gone. Who shall have it? He who will come. What was the day? The sixth from the first. Where was the sun? Over the oak. Where was the shadow? Under the elm. How was it stepped? North by ten and by ten East by five and by five South by two and by two West by one and by one and so under What shall we give for it? All that is ours Why should we give it? For the sake of the trust That's it Word for word I can't help but feel chosen for this task. Where's that? The admirations from Mr. Musgrave. Could they, Watson, refer... to that? What was the day the 6th from the 1st? The 6th from the 1st? 6th day from the 1st month, 6th of January. Your birthday. Indeed. Through here, but you're not gonna have long. Why not? Exactly. Because your wealthy pal, surprise surprise, can meet the bail conditions. Are the conditions strict? Of course. We've taken his passport, he's electronically tagged up as of ten minutes ago. Daily station reports, going to be held at a new address in the town, that's to be arranged. Through here, have we never his phone at all? Why he's bothering, I don't know. More hassle than it's worth with conditions like that, but people with that sort of background don take well to being held like a commoner And this door here he got to be the other side of the glass so just pick up the phone and if he likes you and wants to chat he do the same Good luck. Your solicitor will have him out of here in 15 minutes max, lads. After you. Thank you. Hello, Reginald. I understand you may not want to pick up the phone the other side of that glass, but I have questions that I need answering. I see. I also understand that being in here... You understand near nothing about me, Holmes. You have the faintest grasp of who I am. Scarcely that. You are not alone in that particular failing. I place myself beside you in the company of those who do not, in truth, know Reginald Musgrave at all. You have spent these last few days enlightening me, and you spent your younger days enlightening my father. Permit me to return the favour as best I might. It has been my observation from my first days at Dulwich College that every grain of interest he put into you, he took away from me. Every dram of trust, every ounce of compassion, every pound of patience, every stone of love he took from me and placed into you. Any household that requires a child to furnish the parents' happiness is a cursed one, Holmes. And Hurlstone was no exception, not in the least. The old man mined the British education system in search of remarkable minds. And when he found you, good Lord, the relief to sit with a boy who could think as you think, who did not disappoint him or bore him or fall short in every particular as his own son apparently did. You have seen in our house there has always been a rule. Things must be proper. And if they are not, they must be corrected forcibly. relentlessly until they conform. You did not last long at Dulwich, but neither did I. Every conceivable form of conditioning was applied to my person in the vain hope of producing this this polished turnt. The places he sent me Sherlock. The ancient rituals he chiselled into me. The expectations he chained to me. Your sainted Mr. Musgrave wielded shame like a whip, and my back was already bloodied long before he ever laid eyes upon you. They were cruel times, Reginald. Yes, and now you imagine you've exacted some grand revenge upon me over these past 24 hours because of what transpired at school. But what happened at Dulwich Holmes was my revenge upon you. It was not your humiliation at my hands, but it was mine at yours. but neither has had the emotional sharpness to understand it. My birthday? Why was he buried on my birthday? Because he wished to be. Why? A fixation. Upon me? Perhaps you, yes. But the date itself? The sixth day from the first month. The sixth from the first? Where did you hear that? Whose was it? His who is gone. Who shall have it? He who will come. What was the day? The sixth from the first. Where was the sun? Over the oak. Where was the shadow? Under the elm. How was it stepped? North by ten and by ten. East by five and by five. South by two and by two. West by one and by one. And so under. What shall we give for it? All that is ours. Why should we give it? For the sake of the trust. Right. He's here to be released. Yes, he is. Officer, bring your team to Hullstone Castle. Why? To find Richard Brunton. Why? Did he confess? Excuse me? Brunton followed instructions on the ritual. As best he could, he was required to improvise after his dismissal. And now, due to my sluggishness, I have missed the important day. OK, right, slow down. What are you talking about? It is a code, Watson, a code. Mr Musgrave was in search of a code breaker and he believed he found one in me. Not just any, but the one. Why would he think that? The day the Musgrave ritual recounts is my birthday. And the code is clearly directions. It is a treasure map, Watson. hidden in the recitals of a family oath, a pledge. What, so that north by ten, east by five? Exactly. It is leading the Musgraves to their ancestral treasure. Richard Brunton was a master of high medieval writings and history. He knew of the Musgrave ritual even more so than Reginald himself. To Reginald, it was just family words. To Brunton, it was much more. And so he followed its directions. But where do we start? Richard gave us a clue, but the ritual does also. Where was the sun? Um, over the oak. But surely the sun would be in a different position at any point in the year. The sixth from the first, Watson. Oh, of course. Where was the shadow? Under the elm. Look, towards the old forest. We have the birch trees. You see the? Those ones, the lighter ones. Correct. And this fellow right there, where I'm pointing. With the winding trunk. That is our oak. Between the 6th and now the 9th of January, the sun's elevation changes by less than half a degree relative to us in Sussex. The shadow shifts by centimetres. The ritual would still lead us to the same point. Brunton, three weeks earlier, would have also had a fairly accurate, but not perfect reading. Hey. Oh. What's wrong with you? Sherlock is rather successfully trying to break my brain. How so? He's talking about the sun's half a degree elevation changes over the Sussex countryside. I thought he hated space. Well, right now, I hate space. We have a problem. Do we? The elm. Right. Good Lord. The elm! Can someone kind of tell me what exactly is going on? We don't have it. We need it. What, you can't see one out there? Don't be foolish, Watson. Can you? I don't know what elms look like, mate. Why not? Because I'm a normal person. It has been removed. The elm has been removed. The verse reads, Where was the sun over the oak? Where was the shadow under the elm? How can we find the shadow without our elm? The shadow is where we begin our steps. So we're screwed without the elm. Um, genius and the genius's assistant, do you happen to recall pizza night at all? What happened pizza night? Reginald passively aggressively telling me to get my pizza away from his mushgrave burled elm table. Oh yeah, a table. They couldn't possibly. Why would they tear down this sacred elm on their property, a tree that is part of their own rituals? They wouldn't, would they? They wouldn't. Unless they were forced to Who would force them It would be called a Section 23 notice Section 23 notice Yes from Sussex Council Oh, so now we like the local council stickers, do we? They have high standards when it comes to paperwork. That has, this once, come in handy. Standards? Like, um, up here. Like this. This high. Can we keep searching, please, Mariana, instead of playing silly games? Nothing in this pile. Oh, OK, I've got some council stuff here. OK, wow. It goes way back. Hold on to your dear stalker big man, because section 23, letter from 1982. Ah, you tremendous man. I could kiss you, Watson. Tree felling required. Ah, here. The elm with substantial structural damage following a lightning strike must be removed as it poses risk to public access way on hurlstone property due to its height at 12.6 metres. That is what we need. Come. Right, back into coal. Then what? What are we even looking for? Treasure. Whose treasure? His who is gone. Bullocks. You okay? Yeah, yeah, this bastard. I swear to God, this night is haunting me. Watson, hurry. You go, I'll put this back. You sure? Yeah, I don't want to be attacked by regimental Reginald again. Okay, see you out there. Yeah, yeah. Oh, okay. Not a knight. Royalist Harkabousier. Troop of His Majesty's Horse. Ambrose Musgrave. Slain. Naseby, 1645. Poor sod. Oh, yeah, that is a nasty hole in the armour. Pike, I'd say, right in the gut. Yeah, that'll do you, mate. Naseby. Naseby, Battle of Naseby, English Civil War, of course. Right, let's put you back up, so... There we go. If it makes you feel any better, mate, we brought the king back about ten years later anyway. His son, also a Charles. So, kind of a happy ending for you royalists, after all. Had a bit of buyer's remorse. Yeah, that republic wasn't all it's cracked up to be. You don't realise these things until your king's gone. Gone. Whose was it his who is gone? Where is... Where is the ritual? The ritual. At 1649. The Musgrave ritual. 1649. 1649. Um... Um... Um... Charles... Uh... Come on, load, you bust. Ah, 1600 to 1649. The king. The king who is gone. Charles I. Charles the fucking first. Sherlock! Oh, bollocks. Sherlock! Not now, Watson. I'm carefully pacing my steps. I have calculated where the shadow of our late elm would have fallen, And now we begin north by ten and by ten. Walk with me. Okay, all right. Four, five, six. Nine, ten. East by five and by five. Five south? Yes, south by two and by two. One, two. One Two And finally west by one And by one One One And so under And so under What is that? Jesus John, can you have it? Yeah Surprise I'm on a diet. The same happened to Grunty. Watch out. I'm coming down. Me too. Careful, careful. Put your foot just here. Yes. Okay, okay. I'm down. Are you okay? Yeah, no, just... landed on my side. I'm okay, just surprised. Now we know how our remarkable disappearing act on the vast lawn took place, don't we? We do. He fell right through. Like me. Indeed. Where are we exactly? A crypt, it would seem. Not remotely cared for. I'd say almost entirely forgotten to the centuries. What? What is it? Come here. What you found? Something that shouldn't be. Oh. That's a millstone, right? Yes, indeed. Why does an ancient hidden crypt need a millstone? I would think to conceal a further ancient hidden crypt. One that has been disturbed. I'd say looking at this dirt very recently. Perhaps as recently as three weeks ago. And look, here comes me. Copper piping. Near brand new. Barcode still on this end. Plumber. Roy Howells. Yes. The scraping here. The pipe did serve a purpose, at least. It must have. Yes. Wedged this mighty millstone in an upward position. So it stayed open? Exactly. Howls had marks of stone cutting into his hands. This would do it. Lifting this would definitely, definitely do it. It would indeed. Well, let's lift it. Come on. Ready? Okay, okay, okay. Okay, down, down, down. You guys okay? Yeah. Are you not, um, gonna dive down there and see what's in the next chamber? I feel our nostrils know full well what is in the next chamber. What do you mean? Death. Mariana, he means the smell of death. Death, indeed. Give me your phone light. Here. Thank you. Let me see. Ah. What do you see, mate? I'm afraid to say I see the slumped, deceased and decomposing body of Richard Brunton. Shit. So sorry we arrived so very late, Richard. Permit me to lend you my hat upon your face. Its expressions in death betray you in life. Let us cover those tired eyes now. Hello, mate. Hey mate, because of your last order, you got £5 off this one. Oh, amazing. Great stuff. Thank you. Hey, watch the roads out there. Yeah, will do mate. Enjoy your foods, yeah? Yeah, cheers. Cheers. Oh, didn't put your helmet back on straight. Did I, Ambrose? Hey, you got a big hole in that armour. Want to get that looked at? It is pizza time once again, folks. Yes, I am so ready for pizza. You look somewhat thrilled. There must have been a discount applied. You know me too well. Yes, or perhaps his mind is just that brilliant. Right, Reginald, as by means of an apology, you get first pick. Apologise for nothing, for goodness sake. Pepperoni. There we go, let me put these in the middle here. But that was the evidence, you say, Holmes, that put me away. Yes, very much so. Roy Howells had a lynx hair in his fingernail. Initially, of course, we assumed that was due to perhaps a physical confrontation with yourself. But now, I finally do understand, Reginald. Well, I certainly bloody don't. Yeah, he usually gets there first. That's really annoying. You met your plumber the night you confronted Richard in the library? I did indeed, yes. A few hours before that, yes. He pickpocketed you, Reginald. He reached into your coat while it was no doubt in the cloakroom and stole Hearthstone Castle keys. The lynx hair from said coat came loose in his frenzied delve into the pocket and wedged under his fingernail and remained there until we pulled him from the lake. He gave the keys to Brunton as part of their agreement. But why? Why were they in such cahoots? Roy was the only member of the trades team that wasn't local. He worked with Richard across all projects, and that makes no sense because his reviews suck. Roy was Richard's thief and co-conspirator first, plumber second. Richard did the homework and Roy did the dirty work In their glory days yes Treasures acquired from years of study and know across Britain fabled homes and keeps But things became frayed Money was owed. It remained, from Brunton's side, unpaid. So, Roy Howells stole your keys, gave them to Brunton, who made his way into your library. With his acute knowledge of the era, he knew exactly what he was looking for. The Musgrave Ritual. He perused. He photographed, as you mentioned, and he had his instructions. He acted fast, as he had been dismissed from the job. He traced the route when the sun sat above the oak around 10am, and like John here, he fell right through the access panel, nothing more than a rotten hatch now. Upon seeing this, with the unknowing Kevin Higgs, Howells made his way over shortly after. He aided Brunton into the crypt and used his considerable size and strength to lift the millstone and wedge it open with his copper piping. Until, of course, he kicked it away. Good heavens above. He sentenced him to death. To a horrible, horrible death. For a prize? For unpaid fees? Perhaps for revenge? Brunton had already handed up whatever lay within the chamber. The next thing he raised upwards was his hand, to be pulled out by his accomplice. But he was betrayed. The piping was kicked away. Howl sprinted, treasure in hand across the lawn towards the forest as fast as he could. In such a frenzy and blood rush he didn't take in his surroundings, and right through the ice he went. Cold water shock. Most likely immediate. Hyperventilation, muscle function would have lasted 30 seconds maximum. He drowned, lost grip of his bag, and his body froze. I say his bag. The bag, of course, belongs to he who is gone, whoever that may be. Charles I. What? Goodness me, of course. The Musgraves were royalist protectors. The ritual was written in 1649 after the execution of Charles I. Hey. What? Good job. Thank you, thank you. Watson, that is tremendous. Last pepperoni piece for you. Yes. So. That means he who is gone, Charles I. Goodness sake. Who shall have it? He who shall come. Charles II. Bingo. Which kind of means, because of the 376-year delay, it now belongs to... Charles III. Am I to understand that sack of pitiful, wretched, wrought ironmongering that the police found on his person in the lake is some sort of treasure I should hand over to the king? Well, with our latest information, let's see, shall we? Oh, here. Let us see. Watson, I require your aid. Oh, sure, mate. What can I do? You need me to hold them? No, your aid. Your disgusting aids. The cherry aids, lemon aids, Lucas aids. Ah, right. OK, yeah. In the fridge. Let me just... Righty, righty, there we go. What do you prefer? The most acidic. Oh, you've got an acquired taste. It's for the metal. Your genius has been rather short-lived. Oh, wait, you're going to clean the stuff from the bag? Correct. Read the labelling on each, Watson. I want the most mentions of citric acid, acid regulators, E330, and natural liminal lime juices, please. Uh, to be honest, Cherry Aid, there doesn't seem to be a natural thing in it. Discarded. And the Leucozade, it's, yeah, it mentions citric acid, but it doesn't say the amount. Because the law doesn't require it to do so. Where in the contents list does it sit? Like, uh, seventh. Discard it. Lemonade, water, sugar, citric acid, citric acid regulator, E330. We have a winner. Bring it over. And a bowl, please, good doctor. You got it. Lemonade in the bowl coming right up. Anyone else want anything? No, thank you. Certainly not. Okay. There you go, Mr Detective. Thank you, Dr Doctor. right now in we go with our mysterious mucky metals give them a smell and a hard scrub i can feel centuries of tarnish coming free the carbonation is loosening the particles the citric acid is breaking it up the ascorbic acid from the actual lemons that made up this drink will in fact Shine the metals for us, too. And now, sieve and a new bowl, please. Sieve. First cupboard on the left. Uh, yep, yep, yep. And another bowl. Okey-dokey, there we go. Now then, what do we have? Time to discover. Oh, my God. I cannot... We have our treasure. There's... That's... That's gold. No, no, no, look, there's jewels in there. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop. It's broken. What? What's broken? They're gold plates, Reginald. Not at all, my dear. Not at all. Those pieces are... Those pieces are remains. remains of what reginald the lost crown the steward's upper and the black prince's ruby right there along with these pieces and this is oh it's saint stephen's crown this is this is the crown of the stewards prized from the head of the executed king, taken but hidden and sheltered by his most loyal of friends. The Musgraves. The Musgraves. That ancient ritual was a guide and all we knew it to be was high words of a noble family. The meaning was lost. As lost as those mighty gems right there. This has been a case frozen in time, quite literally in the instance of Mr. Howells. And for the Musgraves, it has been so for half their ancestry and line here at Hurlstone Castle. No matter the murk, occasional confusion and twisting course this case has taken us on, It will forever be known that you, Reginald, in spite of what your father thought of your capabilities, you were the Musgrave that unearthed the crown. Don't be you. You exaggerate. Things have to be proper to you, Reginald. Your standards up here. And it is only because of that that we were called to Hurlstone Castle. It is only because of that that the Musgrave family can give a priceless gift to the royal line of England once more. I feel that I focused for so long on the dirt and grime on your crooked surface. But now, now I see the gold shining through. He would be proud of you, old boy. And of you. Reginald. And of you. Yeah. The bastard. Some therapy needed, I think. Come, let's finish our pizza. Then I would imagine it's a rather interesting phone call to Windsor Castle. Indeed. Indeed. Now that is exciting. Yeah, cheers to that. You gonna... You gonna drink that, Sherlock? Ew. I'm joking. That was a joke. The end is nigh. Well, is nigher than nigh. It's here. It's done. Thank you so much for listening. If you like the show, give us a lovely review on Apple or wherever you review stuff. I don't know. Join the Patreon for loads and loads of stuff. But most importantly, have a wonderful 2026. and I will see you next time. Oh, and if anyone wants to tease me again about being a millennial man that exercises too much interest in British history, I just solved a case with that. So, jokes on you. All right, maybe I didn't solve it entirely by myself, but come on, Charles I, eh? Are you still banging on about that? We'll be right back.