In a plot twist that makes 'Sherlock' look like a documentary, British actress Lauren 'Sherlock's Sidekick' Drummond has been charged with importing a positively Victorian quantity of methamphetamine into Australia. The haul, valued at a cool A$300 million, was discovered by customs officers who presumably expected nothing more than a forgotten jar of Marmite in her luggage.
Yes, you heard that right. The woman who once played a pathologist on telly is now allegedly neck-deep in a pathology of a different kind. The drugs, cunningly concealed in a shipment of industrial machinery, were destined for a warehouse in Sydney's west. One can only imagine the script meeting: 'Watson, the game is afoot... and it's a bloody big foot.'
Drummond, who appeared in a single episode of the BBC's behemoth hit, now faces a penalty that could see her locked up in a HMP that's not nearly as cosy as 221B Baker Street. The maximum penalty for importing a commercial quantity of a border-controlled drug is life imprisonment. She's currently in the custody of New South Wales Police, who are no doubt interrogating her over a cup of tea and a Tim Tam.
Now, let's be clear. This is not a laughing matter. Drug trafficking is a scourge that ruins lives. But the sheer absurdity of a moderately famous British actress being caught with a mountain of meth in a country that takes its drug laws as seriously as its cricket is a gift from the satirical gods. It's the kind of story that writes itself, which is fortunate, because my editor has cut my budget for stringers.
The Australian Federal Police, in their infinite wisdom, decided to release a statement, which I shall summarise: 'We caught a drug importer. She was on telly. The end.' They also helpfully provided photos of the seized drugs, presumably to prove that it wasn't just a sack of sugar that had been left in the sun too long.
Drummond's lawyer, a man who is probably rethinking his life choices, has declined to comment. Her family has expressed 'shock and devastation,' a response that has become as standard as the drugs themselves in these sorts of cases. The internet, predictably, has gone into overdrive, with memes of Sherlock Holmes clutching a bag of meth making the rounds.
But let's take a moment to consider the logistics. How does one even acquire 12 kilograms of crystal meth? Is there a loyalty card? A 'buy 10, get one free' offer? And why Australia? Was the UK market too saturated? Or did she simply fancy a holiday with a sideline in narcotics? The questions are endless, and the answers are probably locked away in a police evidence room, next to a discarded script from Series 4.
Ultimately, this is a tragedy wrapped in a farce. A talented actress, for reasons unknown, has thrown away her career and her freedom in a single, spectacularly stupid move. The only thing more ridiculous than her alleged crimes is the British press's reaction: a mix of moral outrage and barely concealed glee at the downfall of a minor celebrity. We'll be following this story with the attention it deserves: the same amount we give to a particularly juicy episode of 'EastEnders.'
Meanwhile, I'll be at the pub, raising a glass of something significantly less crystalline. Here's to you, Lauren. May your eventual memoir be as compelling as your court case.
