All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries - 05x03 - Evil Eye of Egypt.TVRip.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

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"To Alexandra..."

Hope you enjoy it.

That's quite a display
you have here, George.

Ah, thank you, sir.
I hope to sell out.

Egypt fever, as it were.

I had 50 extra copies printed
especially for this event.

That's quite an investment.
Well, I'm rather confident, sir.

Did you have a chance to peruse
the copy I left on your desk?

Yes, I did, George. You have
quite a flair for the dramatic.

Oh, excellent, sir.

I was afraid it wasn't going to be
your cup of tea. My which?

Cup of tea, sir. It's an expression,
based on the assumption, I suppose,

that a cup of tea
is something one likes,

so something one DOESN'T like...
isn't. Is that...?

Don't be fooled by these thieves
hiding behind the veil of science.

Mr Sharif. You again!
Get out of here! ..Uxbridge!

Come on, now.
You'll only make it worse.

You can keep me out,

but you can never keep out
the curses of my ancestors.

Come on. Please.
I apologise, gentlemen.

He's been following us
ever since we left Cairo.

Ah! Our patroness beckons.
Excuse me, gentlemen.

Sir, that was Desmond Rutherford.
He's the leader of the expedition

that found
the Tomb of the Unknown Princess.

I had no idea you were
so well informed. Oh, yes, sir.

While I was writing my book, I read
a great deal about this expedition.

See that sickly gentleman?
That's Phillip Uxbridge.

He was the first man into the tomb.

And that's Doctor Alger Greenwood.
He's an author,

like myself.

Quite an event,
wouldn't you say, Detective?

Indeed it is, Doctor.

It's not every day
we have a 3,000-year-old sarcophagus

opened before our very eyes.

You can thank the ladies
of the Toronto Historical Society
for that. Oh.

The Toronto Historical Society?
I bet they would enjoy a good book.

I should rejoin the ladies.
If you'll excuse me. Of course.

It's a rollicking tale, but I warn
you, not for the faint of heart.

Are you experienced
with adventure novels?

It's very beautiful.

Yes. You have a good eye, Mister...

Murdoch. William Murdoch.
Doctor Iris Bajjali.

A doctor? Yes. Of archaeology.

Oh! Attention, please.

Please excuse me, Mr Murdoch.

Ladies and gentlemen,
thank you so much for coming.

And thank you to our patroness,
Mrs Xavier McAllister.

Because of her largesse,
the fine city of Toronto

will have the distinction
of welcoming the Unknown Princess

to our modern age...
and on the brink of a new century.

Doctor Iris Bajjali,
may I prevail upon you to continue?

Thank you.

While we do not know her identity,
we are quite certain

that the occupant of this sarcophagus
is of royal lineage.

And now, without further ado,
Professor Alger Greenwood

will do us the honour
of welcoming the royal lady
back to our earthly realm.

Perhaps our princess
is a little shy!

Alger?

Alger!

Doctor?

He's dead. I can't believe it.

I can.

Sir, do you suppose that the snake,

having been buried
with the princess, was
actually under some sort of spell?

A spell, George? Yes, sir.
Not unlike Sleeping Beauty.

George... The snake was put to sleep
as a... protector of the princess.

When Mr Greenwood opened the coffin,
the snake reanimated,
and attacked.

George, let's find the snake first,
shall we?

Take Henry with you, and, gentlemen,
use the utmost caution. Yes, sir.

Higgins? Sir, if the two of us went,

wouldn't we just alarm the thing
even further?

Oh, Henry, come along.

You know, Henry,
my Aunt Primrose once caught a snake

with her bare hands.
An Egyptian snake?

No, don't be ridiculous!
What would an Egyptian snake
be doing in Peterborough?

What do you think you're doing?

Don't touch that!

Detective Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary. I hardly think
this is a matter for the police.

Sir,
who had access to this sarcophagus?

Oh, everyone, unfortunately. The
security in this hall is appalling.

And who knew that Greenwood would be
the one to open the sarcophagus?
It was certainly no secret.

Uh... Uxbridge?

Er, see to the Detective.

I'll deal with this.

Gentlemen, I assure you,
the workplace is perfectly safe.

Gentlemen...

Mr Uxbridge,
why are your workers leaving?

We are all cursed
for what we've done.

Cursed?

Beware Queen Ma'at.

Uxbridge,
pull yourself together, man.

Sir, I must insist that you refrain
from distressing my employees.

And I must insist
that you shut down this exhibit.

Shut down the exhibit?!
That's impossible.

Out of respect for poor Greenwood.
Greenwood would be appalled
at the idea.

In that case, the sarcophagus
will be coming with me
for further analysis. That's absurd!

Sir, if you do not allow me
to examine evidence further,

I will have to arrest you
for impeding a police investigation.

This will not be the last
you hear of this.

I don't want to hear any more about
this curse. Hear me out, Higgins.

I've learned a great deal from
writing my novel. Yes, your novel.

I wondered
when you were going to bring it up.

Mock all you like.
I've sold 20 books!

I hope you didn't offer a money-back
guarantee. Have you even read it?

Of course, George.

Oh, really?
What was your favourite part?

I liked the part with the mummy.
Yes, that was good.

Also, the, uh... Snake. Oh, Henry,
there WAS no snake in my novel!

If you haven't read it, you could
just say. George, the snake!

And I mean very carefully,
gentlemen.

This sarcophagus is very delicate.
It has no business
in a police station.

I'm sorry but I have to determine
how the snake gained entrance.

They have an astonishing ability
to squeeze
into the minutest of openings.

The princess will be safe.
Have no worry.

Although I am surprised
you've concluded
that she's only a princess.

The circumstances surrounding
her burial would suggest that she's
of a higher, more powerful rank.

My thoughts exactly.

But the hieroglyphs are very clear.

They tell us everything
except her name.

An interesting puzzle.

One worthy of a detective, perhaps.

Sir... We found the snake.

Where is it? It got away, sir.

Oh!

No, it didn't... it followed you.

Malish, malish, malish...

Every Egyptian child must learn
to handle a cobra.

Would you like to...

If you could somehow package that
for transport,

it would be most appreciated.

Transport? To the police station.

Surely you do not intend
on questioning the creature?

In a manner of speaking.

I haven't done a dissection
since school.

And never on such a specimen.

And Mr Greenwood?

As it appears. He died from
the poisonous bite of the Naja haje.
The Egyptian cobra, yes.

Native to northern Africa. As far
as we know, we have yet to discover
a cobra in the Canadian wild.

But it would be possible
for someone to keep one, as a pet.

It would make an excellent pet
as it can go for several months
without requiring food.

So the cobra could have entered
the sarcophagus in Egypt,

and have survived the voyage.

Undoubtedly. However...

It ate recently.

It appears so.
A mouse, by the looks of it.

That doesn't look like any mouse.

You might be right, Detective.
I will endeavour to identify it.

But the question still remains.

How did both of these creatures
enter a sealed sarcophagus?

I'm afraid that question
is outside my expertise.

I am late for an engagement.
I bid you good evening, Detective.

Will you be needing anything else,
sir? No, George.

A special occasion, George?

Oh, this?

A book-seller has asked me
to attend an autograph session

at his establishment this evening,
sir.

It seems Curse Of The Pharaohs
has become a bestseller.

That's very good news, George.
Congratulations. Thank you, sir.

I imagine you're busy, but,
if you're not, would you like
to attend? I'd be delighted.

I am very honoured to present to you
this evening

the personal servant
of the Unknown Princess.

She would have been ritually killed
in order to continue on in service

to her mistress for all eternity.

Hmm. What do you say to that, Mary?
If I die, will you come with me?

The servant was
the guardian of the tomb,

and was the first mummy
we discovered.

Do we imagine that the curse
extends to the servant mummies

as well as royalty?

No, there is no curse,
Mrs McAllister.

It is merely a folk tale
designed to deter tomb robbers.

Ah. Come now, ladies.

Let us begin the unwrapping

so that the glory of Egypt
can be experienced first hand.

And now, ladies, I must depart.

Duty calls, but I leave you
in the capable hands of Dr Bajjali.

Mrs McAllister. If you would do us
the honour of unwrapping her.

Where should I begin?

Wherever you like.

I hope it won't look TOO hideous.

We are dependent upon the skill
of the embalmer. Ah...

Mrs McAllister? Mrs McAllister!

Give us some air, please.

Can I help? No, you can't.

I'm afraid she's dead.

What exactly happened?

Mrs McAllister was unwrapping
the mummy, then collapsed.

She died instantly. Any idea why?

I would suggest a heart attack,

brought on, possibly,
by overexcitement.

I'll take the postmortem results
as soon as you have them, please.

Detective.
I'm surprised to see you here.

We investigate
all suspicious deaths.

Suspicious?

Two mummies, two deaths.
It does raise an eyebrow.

May I ask why YOU'RE here?

Mrs McAllister was a great friend
of the expedition.

Her contributions were substantial.

This mummy was meant to be
a thank-you gift.

It seems somewhat macabre.

She was adamant on having
an unwrapping party in her salon.

They used to be all the rage
in London.

So we were to oblige her.

On whose authority?
Mr Rutherford's, of course.

But Mr Rutherford
isn't in attendance.

No, but he was.
He left just before the incident.

Really? Do you know why?

Something related to the exhibit,
I imagine.

And Mr Uxbridge?
Phillip only just arrived,

to transport the mummy
back to the exhibit.

I see.

What have you, George?

Sir, sales remain brisk.
All these women are ardent fans.

Also, none of them saw anything
out of the ordinary.

It would seem, sir,
that she just dropped dead. Right.

I'll need you to transport the mummy
back to the station house.

Is that really necessary? She is
extremely fragile. I'm afraid so.

Then, at least allow Mr Uxbridge
to help you with the transport.

He knows how to handle her properly.

Iris, we can't let this continue.

We have to send it all back.
Queen Ma'at, the curse...

Phillip, please, not now.
The constable needs your help.

Mr Uxbridge, are you all right?
You look quite unwell.

It's the curse.

The curse of the pharaohs?

No. The curse of Queen Ma'at.

It's real. It's happening to me.

It's a very old story.

Queen Ma'at knew she was so disliked
by her people

that she created a curse to protect
her passage to the underworld.

Yes, I believe I've heard
this story. If I'm not mistaken,
a series of fatal calamities

is to befall anyone
who has defiled her tomb.

I was the second man in the tomb.
The second stage is happening to me.

I thought you were the FIRST man in?

It was Burrows.

Mr Uxbridge, I'll fetch Dr Grace.

No doctor can save me.

The only way to break the curse

was to return the mummy to her tomb.

It is said
that the curse of Queen Ma'at

protects all the royal women
of Egypt.

Ma'at is the goddess
of law and justice, is she not?

Quite so.

How fitting that you know of her.

Queen Ma'at, however,
as a human ruler of Egypt,

never actually existed.
So, obviously,
the curse doesn't exist either.

Although...

Yes?

No. Nothing at all.

It's a Greater Egyptian Gerbil.
Not to be confused
with the Lesser Egyptian Gerbil.

I take it this species is not native
to North America? North Africa.

Which means it's likely the gerbil
found its way into the sarcophagus

with the snake in Egypt.

Perhaps quite innocently, by means
of a small hole, for example.

If so, I've yet to find it.

Have you finished
with Mrs McAllister?

It's quite as I suspected.
She died of a heart attack.

No poisons or other triggers?
Nothing at all.
Her death was perfectly natural.

Are you quite sure, Doctor, that
there was no foul play? Absolutely.

Unless, of course,
this mummy was cursed after all.

I'd like you
to revisit your conclusion.

Detective, I can assure you,
I completed the assessment fully,

and to the letter.
I have no doubt in your ability.

Dr Ogden's recommendation
is quite sufficient in that regard.

However, I must insist
that you re-examine Mrs McAllister.

And what am I looking for?

Whatever it is you missed
the first time.

Oi!

It looks like a bloody museum
in here.

So, what have you discovered?

I've been unable to determine how
the snake got in the sarcophagus,

and my tests on the second mummy
haven't yielded any cause

for Mrs McAllister's heart attack.
So nothing at all.

Well, I'm convinced
there's an explanation, sir,

I just have to find it.

Good news, George?

Indeed! This curse
has whetted the public's appetite
for a good Egyptian yarn.

My book is going
into a second printing as we speak.

Ah, Inspector,
would you like a signed copy?

One for the missus? It's proving
to be most popular with the ladies.

I'd like you to remember
that while you're in this station,
you're a policeman.

Exclusively.

Is that a yes?

That's a "get back to work,
before I take that uniform
and stick it on that bloody mummy!"

Sirs, I wanted to speak to you
about the legend of Queen Ma'at.

Oh, here we go. I came upon the
legend while researching my book.

Bloody hell, Crabtree.
We've had werewolves, voodoo,
vampires, and now mummies.

It's all bollocks.
I beg to differ, sir.

Mummies have been cursing people
since as early as 1699,

when a Frenchman,
Louis Penicher, reported
that a ship transporting two mummies

was plagued
by extraordinarily stormy seas until
the mummies were thrown overboard.

French bloody sissies.

Sir, Dr Bajjali mentioned the curse
to me as well.

Perhaps it will yield us a clue.
This is MY thinking, sir.

Uxbridge claims that he was present
at the beginning of the curse.

In fact,
he himself believes he is afflicted.
Obviously a reliable source.

Go on, George. Well, sir,
Uxbridge whispered something
in my ear about "burrows",

and then he left. Burrows?

It turns out there was a Luther
Burrows attached to the expedition.

Where is he now?

He's dead. He died of a fever.
It turns out

Uxbridge was not the first man
into the tomb. It was Burrows,
who died shortly thereafter.

Let me guess.
That was a part of the curse?

Sirs, I've taken the liberty
of writing down

the stages of the curse
on this chalkboard.

As you can see, we've already
got some corroboration.

The first three stages of the curse
have already been fulfilled.

"Stage one... death by brain fire."

A fever. That was Burrows?
The first man into the tomb.

"Stage two...
suffering that never ends."

Uxbridge believes that
to be himself. Clearly he's
suffering from some strange illness.

"Stage three... the bite of an asp."
Are you sure
you didn't make this up?

No, sir. Now, the fourth stage
is somewhat harder to explain.

"The cessation of the soul." Seems
an odd one to me. And the fifth?

Stranger, again, sir.
"The revenge of Anubis." Who?

Anubis, sir. A god
of the Underworld. It's said
he'd guide souls on their journey.

Yes, sir. He had the head
of a jackal. Of course he did!

Excuse me, sirs.
We've found the owner of the snake.
One Fouad Sharif.

Leave our ancestors at peace.

Gentlemen, I am completely within
my rights to protest peacefully.

Mr Sharif,
what can you tell me about snakes?

Specifically an Egyptian cobra.

The sacred asp
is a symbol of the pharaohs,

to be feared and worshipped
as one and the same.

Indeed.

You boarded a steamer in Liverpool,

with one such snake
in your possession, did you not?

It was a gift from my grandfather,
to help remind me of my duty.

Strange then,
that when you made land in Halifax,

the steward's account of the luggage
made no mention of this basket.

Yes. It went missing.
You didn't report it?

It seemed unwise to cause a panic.

You're aware that you were
on the same sailing transporting
the Rutherford expedition?

Of course. How am I to object
to the desecration of my culture

if I cannot confront the vandals
themselves?

Perhaps you are also aware
of how your cobra managed to enter
their sealed sarcophagus.

I am not.

Do you know
of the curse of Queen Ma'at?

You Westerners
are all so simple-minded.

The curse is on you...

for refusing to acknowledge
that to defile our dead

is an abomination
against all humanity.

Detective, I'm glad you're here.

You are a disgrace to our homeland.
I could say the same about you.

You... Lay a hand on this woman,
and I will have you behind bars.

Please, leave him be. I provoked
him. I should have known better.

Would you have a moment to talk?

Yes, of course.

George, I want a 24-hour watch
on Mr Sharif.

I want to know his every move.
Yes, sir.

And now,
with this visit to North America,

I can say I have set foot
on all five continents.

Incredible adventures, Dr Bajjali.

Please, call me Iris. Iris.

This has been a welcome respite
from the exhibit. Oh? Why is that?

It is quickly becoming a sideshow.

Desmond Rutherford is so focused
on the money
this exhibit is bringing in,

he has decided not to bother
returning to Egypt.

Is that so? It took me years to get
on an expeditionary team over there.

Because you're a woman.

Mm.

I suppose I shouldn't complain.

At least I'm not lying dead,
like poor Mrs McAllister.

Have you any news of what killed her?
A heart attack, it would seem.

Oh, how very tragic.

In Ancient Egypt, the heart
was thought to house the soul.

As in "the cessation of the soul"?

From the curse of Queen Ma'at?

Yes, I suppose a heart attack
would fit.

Do YOU believe in the curse?

Do you not find contradictions
between your religious beliefs

and scientific truths?
That doesn't answer my question.

I am a woman of science.
Everything has an explanation.

Though, there is a certain allure
in the idea

that the responsibility of choice
is out of our control.

Perhaps.
But that isn't my cup of tea.

Your cup of tea?
What I mean to say is...

Thank you, sir.

Afternoon edition.
Mummy Princess cursing Toronto!

Thank you, sir.

The afternoon edition. I...
I think it turned out rather well.

You mean you knew about this?
I rather think I'm aware of
when my photograph is being taken.

Do you realise the kind of attention
this is going to attract?
The overwhelming kind, I hope.

I remind you that the deaths
of Mr Greenwood and Mrs McAllister
are still under investigation.

Mrs McAllister?!
The woman died of a heart attack.

I fail to see what you could
possibly need to investigate.

Leave that to me.

Happily. And you leave
the running of tonight's show to me.

So it's a show now?
Certainly. New lighting, new decor.

Mr Barnum will be turning
in his grave with envy.

Because unlike him, I deliver.

Deliver what? The curse, of course.

In action.
Desmond, don't be such a fool.

Iris, stay out of this.
These are the affairs of men.

You mean it takes a man
to turn a 5,000-year-old culture

into a travelling circus?

Precisely.

Doctor! Aaargh!

Anubis!

Forgive us. Please...

Pity that didn't happen
during the show.

Higgins! What on earth is going on
here?! What do they want? You.

Me?! It seems your book and
this supposed curse have turned you
into a celebrity!

I don't know what to do.

I'd make a break for it
if I were you.

Murdoch. I hear you had a brush
with the curse.

I'm perfectly fine, sir.

George? Are you quite all right?
You look rather persecuted.

Price of fame, sir.

Sir,
I've narrowed our list of suspects.

This is a list of events relating to
the curse, and a list of the people

who were present
during those events.

Now, Dr Bajjali can be excluded

because she was the intended victim
of the most recent attack.

Or you were, and she planned it.
I find that highly unlikely, sir.

I see you've ruled out the Egyptian.
Yes, sir.

Mr Sharif seems as though
he had the strongest motive,

but he doesn't appear to have had
opportunity. Rutherford it is.

He appears to be
our strongest suspect, yes.

Right. Let's bring him in.
Sir, I would prefer to leave him
to his own devices.

You want to catch him in the act?

A bit of a dangerous game,
don't you think? It is, sir,

but I don't yet have the evidence
to support his guilt.
Right, then. Crabtree,

put a man on him. Yes, sir.
Oh, and, Crabtree,
you'd better find somewhere

other than my station for
your gaggle of admirers to run riot.

Yes, sir.

Price of fame...

Oh, er,
I imagine she's here to see you.

Dr Bajjali? I've asked
for her expert consultation.

Murdoch... I don't like
dragging up the past,
but it does bear reminding.

You aren't always the most
circumspect when an attractive woman
is involved.

I'll keep that in mind. Hmm.

Ah, ma'am. Doctor.
How good of you to come.

Detective.

So you're no further along in
identifying the mummy princess. No.

It wasn't unusual for royalty
to be erased from history.

But even so,
I've never seen anyone

quite so thoroughly expunged as this.

This is a passage
from The Book Of The Dead.

The funerary text of Ancient Egypt.

Indeed.
Although the name is misleading.

Because it's not an actual book
at all, but a series of spells

and incantations, meant to guide
the dead to the Underworld.

Your knowledge of Egypt
never ceases to amaze me.

You're absolutely certain
that the sarcophagus
had never been previously opened,

and I have failed to find
an entry point for the cobra.

If there had been an opening,
I would have seen it.

Although that is not
this coffin's only mystery. Oh? Here.

The gold leaf appears to have a
gypsum base, which is characteristic

of a period much older than
the rest of the decoration suggests.

Gypsum...

I have an idea.

What is that?

Something that may help solve your
mystery. Gypsum is calcium sulphate.

It fluoresces
under ultraviolet light.

It can't be!

"Here lies the body of Queen Ma'at."
My God.

She really did exist.

And so must her curse.

How do you mean?
I didn't want to let myself believe,
but everything fits.

Even our near miss.
The revenge of Anubis.

There are only two stages left.

The next is
the consumption of Ra's power.

I must get back to the exhibit.
Are you sure that's wise, Doctor?

Would you stop working on a case
because your life was threatened?

Curse, eh?

Gently... please.

Thank you. Mr Rutherford.

Ah, Detective!
So glad you could make it.

Tonight's event
will be one for the history books.

I'll need you to accompany me
to the station house.

I'm afraid I'm otherwise occupied
at the moment.

You are the prime suspect in
two deaths and an attempted murder.

If you wish to clear your name,
I suggest you come with me.

You really are too much.
If you had any evidence,
you would have arrested me already.

You had the means and the
opportunity to create this curse,

and whip the city
into near hysteria.

What's more, you are profiting
from the tragic death of others.

Detective Murdoch,
I am not a murderer.

I've done nothing more
than seize an opportunity.

Uxbridge, see to the detective.
Make sure he has a good spot
to watch the proceedings.

Enjoy the show.

Are you quite all right, sir?
Shut it down.

I'm sorry? The exhibit.
You said you would shut it down.

The curse...

You know who's responsible?
Queen Ma'at, of course.

Don't you trust your own eyes?

Sir.

I just got a report
from Constable Armstrong,
who was watching Mr Sharif.

Armstrong, George? He believes he
heard Mr Sharif have a conversation

that he thought to be conspiratorial
in nature and in a foreign tongue.

Are you quite sure?
Armstrong hears conspiracies

around every corner. I know.
He's quite convinced.

And who did he say
Mr Sharif was speaking to?

That lady archaeologist,
Dr Bajjali.

Iris?

Queen Ma'at, worshipper of justice.

Earthly vessel
of the laws of the gods.

Stripped of her dignity.

Her place in history washed away
by the sands of time.

A woman

forced to face judgement...

Sharif.

It's her.

I prayed it wasn't.

I'm sorry?

Iris. She's of royal blood.
Descended from the pharaohs.

She is their earthly vessel
of revenge.

Ladies and gentlemen,
no longer the Unknown Princess,

I present to you

the legendary, cursed...

Queen Ma'at.

The body is with Dr Grace, sir.

Very good, George.
And we apprehended Mr Sharif.
He was at Union Station.

We're bringing him into custody now.
Excellent.

Once she's changed, please escort
Dr Bajjali to the station house.

Yes, sir.

It seems your chart was wrong.

I hadn't counted on a partnership,
sir.

Maybe you should take him,
and I'll deal with the lady.

Sir,
perhaps your style of questioning

would be better suited
to the male suspect.

Perhaps.

Oh, but, Murdoch, one thing. Yes?

She may be a murderer.
Remember that.

Let's not waste any more time,
shall we?

I know you and the girl
were in on it together.

What girl? In on what?

You and Mr Sharif are acquainted,
are you not, Dr Bajjali?

Dr Bajjali?

Please answer the question.

Yes, you know we are.

Perhaps I'm not making myself clear.

You and Mr Sharif
are WELL acquainted.

I have no idea what you're talking
about. Oh, I think you do.

You've been wanting to shut down
this exhibit all along.

Yes, but not like this. I cannot
explain what has been happening.

You mean how the two Egyptians
associated with the exhibit

managed to dodge
this supposed curse?

Because we are both
Egyptians we must be co-conspirators?

Is that it? Really, William.

It's Detective Murdoch.

Is it? I think I'll be going.

Not until you explain why the two of
you were seen clandestinely meeting.

That's ridiculous. Is it?

You have no proof.
You were always around the exhibit.

How could I protest against it
if I wasn't there?! Or how could you
sabotage it, if you wasn't there?

Sabotage? How? I had no access
to any of the artefacts.

Not you, perhaps.

But a well-placed partner
in the expeditionary team would.

I believed
Mr Sharif to be guilty.

I sought to gain his trust,
and approached him as a friend.

The two of you were speaking Arabic,
so no-one can confirm this.

Mr Sharif can.

An unsatisfactory corroboration.

Do you really believe
that I would be party

to the ruination of everything
I have worked so hard for?

With Mr Greenwood
and Mr Rutherford dead,

you'd be able
to take over the exhibit.

You would like that, wouldn't you?

Yes. But only to present it
with dignity, respect.

You had access to the sarcophagus.

You demonstrated an ability
to handle a deadly cobra.

You knew well enough to tamper
with electrical wires.

You were present at every death.

You used the curse
to cover your tracks.

How dare you... accuse me!

And what of the attempt on MY life?

I believe that was meant for me.

Ridiculous! You weren't
part of the expedition.

How could you be part of the curse?

Detective, I...

Dr Grace, it is highly inappropriate
for you to interrupt me

in the middle of an interrogation.
I must insist you learn to knock.

Quite right. But this cannot wait.
I had a thought.

I'm sure we can discuss your thought
at a more suitable moment.

Of course. It struck me
that although we discovered
that the snake had eaten the gerbil,

we neglected to find out what the
gerbil had eaten.
Which undoubtedly you know. Indeed.

A paste made from a herbal remedy
for fevers.

Egyptian camomile.

I trust that was worth
the interruption?

Irving, please tell the inspector
that Mr Sharif is free to go.

Thank you, Doctor.
That was very helpful indeed.

It's time to pack up the exhibit.

That's hardly your decision.

Trust me, Iris.

Phillip,
you really must see a doctor.

Every time I see you,
you look worse and worse.

You're sending everything back.
The curse will be broken.

What are you talking about?
The exhibit will move to Chicago...
you know that.

You can't do that.

Phillip, you have a fever.
You're not thinking straight.

If she doesn't go away,
the killing will continue.

Phillip, there is no curse! Can't
you see what's happening around you?

I refuse to believe that a
children's story is going to kill me.

That's what Burrows said
just before he died. And then I got
sick, and I haven't got better.

The only way
that we can break the curse

is to send everything back to Egypt.

Please.

I don't want you to be next.

The exhibit will go on as planned.

I can't let you do that.

Uxbridge!

Iris, are you all right?

Why did you do it?

It wasn't me! It was Queen Ma'at.

It was you that put the snake
in the sarcophagus.

I found the compartment. It was you
that tipped the frieze of Anubis...

only it wasn't meant for me, was it?

Killing a police officer
wouldn't prove the curse.

You weren't supposed to be there.
It was you that frayed the wires
to the switch.

You knew Rutherford would want
to light the stage himself.
He had to be stopped.

If you would have listened to me,
no-one would have got killed.

And Mrs McAllister?

That wasn't me.
How did you induce her heart attack?

I didn't kill her, I swear.
How did you do...

Stop!

Stop!

Out of the way! Phillip!

Why the long face, eh?
Another case is solved.

There are no more rotting corpses
hanging around my station house.

In fact, it's a good day,
young Crabtree. So why don't you
take the rest of it off,

and go and tend
to your adoring public?

Sir, it seems my book is not
quite as popular as it once was.

Fame is a fickle mistress. Yes, sir.

Crabtree...

My wife has been nagging me
for that signed copy of your book.

Driving me crackers, she is.

Oh! Happy to oblige, sir.
Anything for the missus.

Sir, I imagine you'll be interested
in the idea I have for my next book.

Leprechauns.
Now, what people don't realise

is leprechauns are actually nasty
little beasts with very sharp teeth.

And their gold is hidden
at the end of a rainbow,

but only a handful of people
have ever even been...

Detective, I...

Dr Grace.

I've concluded my examination of Mr
Uxbridge. It was quite illuminating.

Oh? How so? He died due to injuries
caused by the fire truck.

And you found that
to be illuminating?

Not at all.

Rather, that otherwise he seemed
to have been in perfect health.

Are you quite sure? He looked to be
on the brink of death.

I discovered that the camomile
he was constantly eating

was laced with mandrake.
Mandrake? The poison?

Yes, but the dosage
he was exposed to wasn't fatal.

The plants were likely grown
together. It's not uncommon.

Could the mandrake have caused
the fever-like symptoms?

No. But it would have caused
rather vivid hallucinations.

He probably SAW the curse,
so to speak.

Fascinating. He believed
in his ailment so strongly,

he willed it to manifest itself.
Indeed.

Truly mind over matter, as they say.

And Mrs McAllister?

It really was just a heart attack.

The coincidence
that proves the rule.

Dr Grace...

Good work. Thank you.

So, off to Chicago then,
to restage the exhibit?

Actually, I've found it a permanent
home there. No more circus act.

Just... a nice quiet museum.

And will you be making a home there
as well?

Oh, no. I'm not the home-making type.

But, if all goes according to plan,

I will be back among pyramids
very soon...

only, this time in the Mexican
rainforest. Chichen Itza.

Mayan ruins! How wonderful!

You would like it, I think.

The thrill of discovery is the same,

regardless of what it is
one discovers.

Do you remember the last stage
of the curse?

Ra will send his chariot of fire.

Or his fire wagon?

Perhaps science
can't explain everything, after all.

Goodbye, William. Goodbye, Iris.

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