Chapter 1: What is the significance of the Musgrave Ritual in the story?
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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 axe?
The plumber is dead. What did you do? I didn't kill him. I just got this off heat. What is it? A profile picture.
Look. Holy shit. This is Roy Howells.
Sherlock, that was the face. Our frozen man.
That was him.
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Chapter 2: How did Sherlock Holmes connect the dots regarding the murder?
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?
Then 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, I... 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. Here. 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.
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Chapter 3: What clues were found in the hidden crypt?
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 us 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?
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Chapter 4: How does the history of the Musgrave family tie into the treasure?
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't take well to being held like a commoner. And this door here, he's 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'll 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
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 turd. The places you sent me, Sherlock, the ancient
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Chapter 5: What role did Richard Brunton play in the events leading to the treasure?
Okay, all right, slow down. What are you talking about? It is a code, Watson, a code. Mr. Musgrave was in search of a codebreaker, 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.
So that North by 10, East by 5? 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. Of course. Where was the shadow?
Under the elm. Look, towards the old forest. We have the birch trees. You see, there? Those ones, the lighter ones.
Correct.
And this fellow right there, where I'm pointing. With the winding trunk. That is our oak tree. 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.
Uh-oh.
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Chapter 6: What was the fate of Roy Howells and how did it unfold?
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 up here? Like this? This high?
Can we keep searching, please, Mariana, instead of playing silly games? Nothing in this pile.
Oh, okay. I've got some council stuff here. Okay, 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 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 meters. That is what we need. Come.
Back into the cult.
Then what are we even looking for?
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Chapter 7: What revelations come to light about the royal treasures?
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 Christ.
Yeah, it's... Surprising is all, because I'm on a diet. The same happened to Brunton. 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?
That we do. He fell right through, like me.
Indeed.
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Chapter 8: How does the episode conclude with the characters' reflections?
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 Hurstone 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. 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, Plummer second. Richard did the homework, and Roy did the dirty work.
In their glory days, yes. Treasures acquired from years of study and know-how across Britain's 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.
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