All language subtitles for Elementary.S06E10.HDTV.x264-KILLERS[ettv]-eng

HOLMES:
Previously on Elementary...

I'm Mycroft.

Mycroft Holmes.

I love you, brother.

- What's happened?
- Mycroft died.

He's faked his death before.
I mean, maybe...

No.

Several years ago,
I anticipated

that without Moriarty,
her group would fall apart.

I was mistaken.

Someone else has taken over.

I did it for you,
Sherlock. You and Joan.

It was the only way to guarantee
they'd never harm you.

So your only recourse
was to become head

of an organization
which murders for profit.

How else would I dismantle it?

♪ ♪

This looks wrong.

We should have made a left
at that last junction.

Says the guy who got
us completely lost

the last time
he navigated.

I'm just saying.

Having a penis doesn't grant you
an innate sense of direction.

My girl parts say
that we are almost there.

Ta-da.

(grunts, pants)

It's locked.

(grunts)

What the hell?

Hey!

Hey!

What the hell was that?

Should I go after him?

Pretty sure we don't want
to catch up to him.

Look.

(doorbell ringing)

Sherlock.

Good to see you.

Come in.

Apologies for the lateness
of the hour.

As I said when you called,

I felt compelled to see
my only remaining son

as soon as possible.

We have much to discuss.

This tortoise appears
to be quite young.

Couldn't be any more
than, what, four?

He's seven, the
best we can tell.

Either way, he'll outlive you
and Joan by several decades.

Have arrangements been made?

Yes, my former
apprentice Kitty

is going to take him
when the time comes.

Her son will inherit him
after that, and so forth.

Well, it's wise
to prepare for the worst.

Although I'll allow that some
preparations are unreliable.

My will states that Mycroft
should deliver my eulogy.

Now it seems that he's been dead
for the better part of a year

and buried in some distant land.

I always thought
he would outlive us both.

The fact he has preceded
both you and I to the grave

despite our more dangerous
paths, uh,

speaks to the inherent injustice
of the universe.

Or its love of irony.

Speaking of danger,
how goes your secret agenda?

Well, for the last two years,
I have made steady progress

in dismantling
Moriarty's network.

The disappearance
of the solitary cyclist?

The incident
at the priory school?

Among others.

Sadly, I have been unable
to foil

all of the network's
machinations.

I also had to drain some
of the family finances

to pay dividends to some
of Moriarty's shareholders

so they won't think that
their enterprise is unraveling.

There'll still be
a sizeable sum when I'm done.

Which brings us back
to the matter at hand.

I need to change my will.

Mycroft was the sole heir.

New arrangements
are required.

(cell phone chimes)

Uh, this colleague
of mine-- a...

body's been found.

Well, I'll go and...

we'll have plenty
of time to talk.

I'm going to be in New York
for at least a week.

Well, if you need anything...

I'll be in touch.

Look, you should know...

I discovered Mycroft was dead

because I was seeking him out
to heal our rift.

Now I won't have
the chance.

But...

it made me realize
that grudges are pointless

and that people who hold them
are petty and small-minded.

I am neither of those things.

We'll talk soon...

son.

BELL: The three hipsters
who found this place

were doing something they
call "urban spelunking."

Otherwise known
as roof-and-tunnel hacking.

The exploration
of man-made structures,

typically abandoned ruins.

They thought
no one had been

in this fallout
shelter for decades.

Instead, they
found all this.

The guy they saw
run out of here

was wearing some
sort of respirator,

so they couldn't
see his face.

He got away clean.

Victim is a Jane Doe.

No I.D. She's been
dead a few days.

I'm assuming
the cause of death

was one of these wounds,
but we won't know for sure

until the M.E. weighs in.

So, the man who
fled was removing

her internal organs through
this cut on her side?

Yeah, intestines, stomach

and liver are in
these clay jars.

Now, when the
spelunkers broke in,

he was in the middle
of pulling out her lungs,

probably to go
in this last jar.

Obviously, the guy's a sicko.

We're thinking serial.

Well, that is an understandable,
although mistaken, conclusion.

These mutilations

were not performed to satisfy
some dark impulses.

There is a more cogent scheme
at work.

Note...

this tool.

Now, this is designed
to remove

a cadaver's brain

through her nose.

Piece by piece.

Then...

there are these items.

There's honey.

There's a particularly resinous
Levantine wine.

There is balsam, cedar oil.

These are the ingredients

in a millennia-old recipe

intended to transform
this woman.

Given the level
of craftsmanship,

I'd say our masked man
was looking

to turn her into a copy

of a priceless antiquity.

In other words, a forgery.

What the hell kind of forgery
can you make out of a person?

To the best of my knowledge,
only one.

An Egyptian mummy.

♪ Elementary 6x10 ♪
The Adventure of the Ersatz Sobekneferu
Original Ai

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

To be honest,
when I first heard your theory,

I was skeptical.

Forging a mummy is ambitious.

And yet it has
been done.

Most recently at a
museum in Pakistan,

where they paid over
$10 million for one

which turned out to
be a modern fake.

The, uh, so-called
Persian Princess.

I said ambitious,
not impossible.

Sorry I'm late.

Traffic was bad,
but I was able to catch up.

Professor Hausmann,
this is Joan Watson.

Pleasure.

The professor is one
of the foremost experts

on Egyptian antiquities
in North America.

He authenticates
artifacts for most

of the major museums
on the East Coast.

Well, it's nice to meet
another Irregular.

Uh, actually, he's not

one of my consultants.
He's, uh, the captain's.

He helped me out a few times
in the Robbery Squad.

Antiquities theft,
smuggling,

that sort of thing.

Now that I've
seen the evidence,

not only do I agree

with your theory,
I think I can tell you

exactly whose mummy
this was supposed to be.

You said your technicians
found this amulet

under the linens
at the crime scene.

Note the cartouche.

This is a proper name.

Sobekneferu.

You read hieroglyphics?

He reads all sorts of things.

So, who's this Sobekneferu?

HAUSMANN:
A historical rarity.

A female pharaoh.

She died under
mysterious circumstances

when she was in her late 20s.

Over 3,000 years ago.

Her mummy was never found.

It would be worth...
$100 million?

To the right museum

or private collector.
HAUSMANN: The thing is, you said

this was a homicide
investigation.

I'm not sure that's right.

We have a dead body.

We have a lot of wounds.

All of which could have been
inflicted postmortem.

The other case you mentioned,
the Persian Princess--

do you recall how the forgers

procured her body?

Stole it from a hospital,
by all accounts.

She likely died
in a traffic accident.

Exactly.

Your forger may have stolen
this corpse as well.

Or bought it

from an unscrupulous
funeral parlor.

In other words, while this may
indeed be a forgery,

it may not be a murder.

It most assuredly
was a bloody murder.

The M.E. doesn't even
have a report yet.

Don't need one.

In order to duplicate
Sobekneferu,

the forger would
need a fresh kill,

slain in a historically
accurate way.

I submit the Jane Doe
was killed with one of these.

That's a khopesh.

It's the preferred weapon
of the ancient Egyptians.

So, if I manage to adopt a baby,

you know the box of swords
has to go, right?

Note the shape of the blade.

Looks consistent with the wound
on the victim's leg.

Mm. She was killed
by her nephew, by the way.

Police haven't even
identified her yet.

Not Jane Doe.
Sobekneferu.

She was almost certainly done in
by her brother's son,

Sobekhotep, and/or his allies.

He succeeded her to the throne,

and records written
during his dynasty

studiously avoid any mention
of how she died.

That's a sure sign
that his regime was involved.

Only fair, I suppose,

since she likely murdered
his father

to seize power
in the first place. Anyway...

(Holmes clears throat)

Speaking of fathers,
how's yours?

Good.

That's it? Just good?

Mycroft's death has changed
things for the both of us.

While our, uh, hatchets
have not yet been buried,

the holes are being dug.

Hmm, that's great.
I'm happy for you.

How are you holding up?

Me?

Well, you and Mycroft
were close for a time.

Well, I'm definitely
grieving.

But when Mycroft
went into hiding,

I knew that he'd never be a
part of my life again, so...

I guess, uh...

I already came to
terms with losing him.

If that makes any sense.

So, where is
Mycroft's body now?

Was he buried?

Uh, yes, in what, uh...

what turned out to be
his last assumed name,

in a cemetery, uh,

just outside
Christchurch, New Zealand.

Well, have you and your
father talked about

maybe moving him
closer to home?

Despite what the ancient
Egyptians believe,

Mycroft's body will not provide

a special conduit to him
in the afterlife.

Well, I just thought, if one
of you wanted to visit him

without getting on a plane
for 20 hours...

I'll mention it to my father.

That's not bad.

Bit jagged, but...

this particular khopesh hasn't
been sharpened in some time.

I expect the one
used to kill Jane Doe

was brand-new
and razor sharp.

Wouldn't he use an antique
for authenticity's sake?

For authenticity's sake, yes,
he would use a bronze khopesh,

but bronze becomes
brittle over time,

so a suitably old one

would not be able
to make a cut like this.

I think the forger
and the killer

are two different people.

As I've just demonstrated,

making a cut deep enough
to sever the femoral artery

requires skill and strength.

But the postmortem incisions
on the victim

were more tentative.

They were much more sawing
than slicing.

Well, it takes a
strong and steady hand

to make a clean incision
even with a sharp scalpel,

so if the postmortem
cuts were uneven...

We're looking at the work
of two individuals.

One strong, one less so.

While we might not
as of yet

have a way
to find the forger,

I think we might have a way
to find the swordsman.

MAN:
Riposte.

Parry and riposte.

All right, guys.

BELL:
You and your friends sure seem

to know your way
around ancient weapons.

It's a hobby.

Reconstructing
old fighting techniques.

I mean, different weapons
lend themselves

to different techniques.

Only way to figure them
out is to use them.

Fight with them.

Last night,
a woman's body was found.

We haven't been able
to identify her yet.

But our consultant thinks she
was killed with a reproduction

of a bronze sword
called a khopesh.

The killer seemed to
know what he was doing.

Well, lots of people
play around with this stuff.

I've got hundreds of students.

Actually, we don't think the
person who did it was a student.

A bronze khopesh
is a pretty specialized item.

There's only a few people
who make them.

So we made some calls.

Turns out a khopesh
was shipped

to this address just last week.

Paid for
on your company account.

I never ordered a khopesh.

I don't remember seeing
one around the gym.

But to answer the question
I think you're asking,

I didn't kill anyone.

Truth is, based on the angle
of the fatal blow,

you're probably too tall
to be the killer.

Your instructor,
on the other hand...

he's about
the right height,

and he's been listening
to every word we've said.

Sort of like his life
depended on it.

Don't!

Whoa, whoa.

Have you seen
Raiders of the Lost Ark?

Doesn't go well
for the guy with the sword.

Trust me.

I want to cut a deal.

That was fast.

That's how it works, right?

When you kill someone for money?

You roll on whoever hired you,

and the police
take it easy on you.

If you tell us
everything you know,

we'll definitely
put in a good word

with the district attorney.

Okay, so yeah, I did it.

I killed that girl
with the khopesh.

Just like the others.

Others?

I don't know the real name
of the guy who hired me.

Just, like, his code name.

But I've killed
three different people for him

over the past couple years.

We're gonna want the names
of the other victims,

not to mention
your friend's code name.

It's The Theban.

The Theban?

All I know is he's
this master forger.

Does all kinds
of historic stuff,

including mummies.
BELL: And you provide

the bodies he uses
to make the mummies?

You should know, I only did it
because I have gambling debts.

My bookies were gonna
kill me, so that's...

extenuating circumstances
or whatever, right?

It's practically self-defense.

Uh, let's keep talking
about The Theban.

Can you give us
a description?

Sorry.

We never met in person.

We used Zyngychat.

It's one of those texting apps
that deletes

the messages
as soon as you read 'em.

Perfect for irresponsible
teenagers and hired killers.

There was something different
about this last job.

The other two times, he gave me

a detailed description
of what he wanted--

how old the target should be,
male or female.

He wanted them short,

no pacemakers
or artificial hips,

Middle-Eastern--
preferably Egyptian.

To match the mummy
he was making.

I'd look for someone
who fit the bill

and killed them the way
The Theban wanted.

This time, he already
picked out his victim.

It was this girl
named Mischa Farrell.

Graphic designer, late 20s,
lived in Kip's Bay.

Anyway, I caught her
on the way home

from a club the other night.

Cut her right here.

Tucked her body away
and told The Theban

where to pick her up.

So, we got a deal?

Do I need
to sign something?

Show it to a lawyer?

Hey, I should probably
have a lawyer, right?

Never had a suspect
who wanted

to cooperate so badly
and knew so little.

Well, didn't give us
much about The Theban,

that's for sure.

Not much,
but perhaps enough.

Mischa Farrell
broke The Theban's pattern

in more ways than one.
Just look.

BELL:
Doesn't exactly look Egyptian.

She might have some
Middle-Eastern heritage,

but at least some
of her ancestors hailed

from less sunny climes.

Also, she was
five-foot-six.

That's a good deal taller

than your average
ancient Egyptian woman.

But The Theban specifically
ordered Blaine to kill her.

Why do that if she didn't
fit his requirements?

Well, what if
her death was more

than just a step
in creating an ersatz mummy?

What if it was a goal
in and of itself?

You're thinking, even though
Blaine in there doesn't know it,

Mischa Farrell's murder
was a hit.

Figure out who
wanted her dead,

and we may have
our mummy maker.

WATSON: Those are new.
Are you reopening

the investigation
into the death of Sobekneferu?

No, this is actually
everything we know

about Mischa Farrell.

Since we weren't making
any progress last night

reviewing the details
of her life in English,

I thought I would translate
the data into hieroglyphics.

See if it opened up a
new line of thought.

To review,

Mischa Farrell was a 29-year-old

freelance book designer
who did covers and layouts

for fine-art books,
textbooks and auction catalogs.

Hmm. No apparent issues
with drugs or alcohol.

Single. No evidence
of domestic abuse.

No priors,
which is why her prints

weren't in any of the databases.

And while her profession does
connect her to the art world,

there seems to be
no reason on earth

why anyone would want
to kill her,

so we must be
missing something.

Uh, are these her
bank statements?

Yes. Marcus sent them over
a few moments ago.

That was my next project.

Looks like she hired a lawyer
a little over a year ago.

And then about
five months later,

she received a check for $75,000
from the same law firm.

Maybe it was
a settlement.

Certainly merits a closer look.

Let me know
if you find anything.

Where are you going?

My father wants me
to attend a meeting

with him and his attorneys.

I leave this
in your capable hands.

Yes, that $75,000 came from me,
and yes, it was a settlement.

But I never
would have hurt Mischa.

I cared about her.

More like you relentlessly
sexually harassed her

when she worked
with you.

We've seen the lawsuit,
Mr. Venetto.

We know that on
multiple occasions

you tried
to pressure her

into sleeping with you.

Maybe you resented
having to pay her out.

Maybe you just didn't like
being rejected.

Either way, you decided

she had to go.

Uh...

I was horrible to Mischa,
and to other women, too,

but I had no reason to kill her.

If anything, I was
grateful to her.

Her lawsuit made me take
a hard look at myself,

and I didn't like what I saw.

That's why I settled.

Not just with her, but with
the other women I'd harassed.

Even the ones who
hadn't sued me.

If you'd like,

I'll e-mail
my attorneys right now,

ask them to send you
all of their records.

My e-mail address
is at the bottom.

Try to understand, I've had

extensive counseling
over the past year.

I've changed how I conduct
my business completely.

You know Mischa
was freelancing

for me again, right?

Well, we saw a few checks.

We thought they might
have been more payoffs.

She designed my last
three auction catalogs.

Uh... ah, here.

See for yourself.

Since she's
been back,

everything's been strictly
professional between us.

Ask anyone.

Does the name "The Theban"
mean anything to you?

No. Should it?
BELL: That's the person

we think hired Mischa's killer.

WATSON: Can you think
of anyone else

who might have wanted
to hurt Mischa?

You talked to Ricky?
Who?

Mischa's ex.

From what she told people
around the office,

they had an ugly breakup.

Something about Ricky
owing her money.

WOMAN:
I admit...

I lashed out at Mischa
after she dumped me.

She called our relationship
"a failed experiment."

So I said
some stupid things,

but I never
wanted her dead.

Truth is...

I don't think
I ever stopped loving her.

Is that why you called her
the day she disappeared?

BELL: Ricky, we got
Mischa's phone records.

Mischa is the one
who reached out to me. Okay?

Weeks ago. There was this book
she was working on.

She wanted me
to consult on it.

She said she would forget
all about the 20 grand.

I said yes.

Must have needed your help
pretty badly

to forgive a debt that big.

She needed someone
who really knew brush strokes.

There was a trick I used to do
when we were in grad school.

In art classes,
I could tell

who painted what
by the brush strokes.

That's what she wanted me
to do for the book.

Identify painters by
their brush strokes?

One painter,
actually.

The book is something
she was writing herself.

Nonfiction.

An exposé
on this forger.

Mischa called him "van Faux."

Van Faux.

According to her,

he is the world's greatest
living forger.

He imitates the old masters:

Rubens, Rembrandt,
the Brueghels.

Mischa claimed
that van Faux's fakes

are pretty much a part
of every major collection

of Dutch paintings,

and no one knows it.

She was trying
to identify every one.

That's where I came in.

I can spot his fakes sometimes
by the brush stokes.

Thing is...

Mischa didn't just want
to identify van Faux's work.

She wanted
to find out his real name.

Expose him
to the world.

If Mischa found out
who van Faux really is...

He might have killed her
to protect his secrets.

You're upset.

I'm disappointed.

I think you're
making a mistake

passing up
your inheritance.

The truth is I
would much rather

the proceeds
go to charity.

I certainly don't
need the money.

All I require is...

"A loaf of bread
and a clean collar."

As you've said
many times before.

Still I'm grateful
that you took the time

to join me today.

My inevitable passing
is hardly my favorite subject,

but I'm glad
your wishes will be met.

Well, I'm sure you need
to get back to your work.

So... thank you
for taking the time.

I'm just gonna wait till
your car gets here,

if it's all the same to you.

Oh. Yeah, of course.

Yes.

I assume from your texts
these are the works

of the elusive van Faux.

The ones that Mischa's ex
knew about, anyway.

I can see why Mischa
was fascinated by him.

He's really good.

He doesn't just copy
existing paintings.

He paints
brand-new ones

in the style of different
Dutch old masters,

and then passes them off
as lost masterpieces.

A not uncommon approach
for forgers.

It's technically demanding,
but...

makes spotting a forgery
more difficult.

So, how'd it go
with your father?

Aside from a slight disagreement
regarding his estate,

we had a not unpleasant morning.

Right up until the moment
I realized he was being stalked.

What do you mean?

When we left the meeting,
I saw a man lingering nearby,

studying my father intently.

I believe he intended him ill.

Did you tell your father?

Didn't want to risk
tipping my hand.

Finding and identifying this man
will require a detective,

and while my father
has a virtual Death Star

at his disposal,
I have little faith

in the investigative arm
of his group.

So I trust you could do
without me for a stretch.

Sure.

Gonna start an art project
of my own.

WATSON:
Nice use of shading.

Have you considered a career
in art forgery?

This is merely a tool,

a visual aid I plan
to forward to my contacts.

How goes your investigation?

I've been looking
into the provenances

of the paintings
that Mischa thought

were forgeries by van Faux.

Most of them have histories
that allegedly date back

to the Second World War,
and then nothing.

The histories of many European
works of art

were lost or destroyed
during the war.

Van Faux is no doubt aware
of this

and using it to his advantage.

I thought the same thing,
so instead of looking

at the paintings
to try and find him,

I started looking
into the materials

he would use to forge them.

Period-accurate paints,
varnishes, brushes?

Unfortunately,
I struck out there, too.

I checked with all the companies
that would make those materials,

but none of them points
to van Faux.

There's no regular buyers
of the colors

used by Rembrandt or Rubens,
and no special requests

that would match
a Vermeer or Brueghel.

What about canvases?

There are exactly
five places

that make the reproductions

of the linen canvases
used during the 17th century,

but none of them seem to have
any connection to van Faux.

Well, they wouldn't.

Not if the canvases he's using

are actually
from the 17th century.

So your theory is that
van Faux has a time machine?

The frames
around these paintings

appear to be quite old.

Yeah, I noticed that, too.

I just assumed he aged them.

Well, he could have.

But why go to all the trouble?

Why age new canvases and frames

when you could just
buy old ones?

What, you can buy frames
and blank canvases

from the 17th century?

No, but you can buy lesser-known

17th century paintings
for a few thousand dollars,

frames and canvases included.

So you think he buys
old paintings,

and then strips them
or paints over them?

If anything, it would add
to the authenticity

of van Faux's work.

Old masters often reused
frames and canvases.

So the question
then becomes--

who has been buying up
all the least desirable

Dutch paintings from the 1600s?

(door opens, bell rings)

Class doesn't start
for another hour.

GREGSON: We're not here
for a class, Mr. Wells.

We're here to talk to you
about some paintings

you recently bought
that we think

you were gonna turn
into forgeries.

I'm Captain Gregson
with the NYPD.

This is Detectives Bell,
Lewis and Orosco.

Would it help if I told you
I have no idea

what you're talking about?
BELL: Not really.

We have a search warrant for
this studio and your residence.

If you're working
on any forged paintings

at the moment, pretty sure

we're gonna find them.

Mischa told you about me,
didn't she?

You admit to knowing
Mischa Farrell?

I have a feeling
there's no point in denying it.

GREGSON: She didn't
tell us anything.

The work she was doing
did help us find you,

which means you had her killed

for nothing.

What?

What are you talking about?

Mischa's dead?

BELL: I'm curious,
Mr. Wells.

Are paintings the only thing
you forge,

or do you also like
to fake Egyptian antiquities?

You admit you knew
Mischa Farrell.

We think you also knew
she was getting closer

to proving you were the forger
she called van Faux.

She'd identified dozens
of your fakes.

She was a threat to you.

It's true I knew
about her research

because she told me.

She was determined to prove

I was the world's greatest
living forger,

and she wouldn't be dissuaded,

no matter how
much I denied it.

But I would never

have harmed her.

Quite the contrary--
I would have killed anybody

who I thought
might be a threat to her.

You admit you knew
she was trying to expose you,

so why should we believe
you'd want to protect her?

Because that's what fathers do.

Mischa Farrell was my daughter.

I met Mischa's mother
at a Basquiat show

in the East Village.
Back then, I was

an up-and-coming painter
on the local scene.

She was the most
beautiful thing

I had ever
laid eyes on, and...

we had a
one-night stand.

Mischa arrived
nine months later.

BELL: We pulled Mischa's
birth certificate

to check your story.

You're not on it.

Her mother's decision,
which I respected.

But I still wanted
to do right by Mischa.

So, when it became painfully
clear that I would

never make a living
as a legitimate artist,

I turned to forgery.

I used the profits to pay
Mischa's child support.

Eventually, her mother
trusted me enough

to watch her after school
and weekends.

She practically grew up
in my studio.

HOLMES: And that's how,
as an adult,

she came to recognize
that your forgeries

were being passed off
as genuine old masters?

As a child,
she had seen me paint them,

and a few months ago,
she confronted me.

She was angry?

Quite the opposite.

She was proud of my work.

To her, I was every bit as good
as the artists I imitated.

She wanted me to go public.

She thought, if I cooperated
with the authorities,

I'd be spared a prison sentence.

More importantly,
I'd finally

be acknowledged
for my talent.

Other admitted forgers
have become

successful mainstream
artists, you see.

She wanted me to get the credit
she thought I deserved.

But you refused?

Unfortunately,
she wasn't the sort

to take no for an answer.

She set about trying
to prove I was van Faux.

I did everything I could
to discourage her.

So you admit she was a threat
and that you tried

to shut her down
to protect yourself.

I tried to protect her.

Few people understand
how dangerous

the business of art can be.

Criminals, oligarchs,
despots, terrorists.

They all use art
to move their dirty money

from place to place.

Pay each other for guns,
drugs, stolen goods.

If Mischa had exposed you,

the collectors
who own your forgeries

would have lost millions.

Maybe one of them realized
what she was trying to do,

had her killed to
keep her quiet.

WELLS:
I don't deal directly

with any of the monsters
who lurk

in the art world shadows.

But I know many by reputation.

Perhaps, if you tell me
more about her death,

I might be able to
shed some light.

Well, she was killed
with a weapon called a khopesh.

When we found her body,

someone was trying
to turn it into a replica

of an ancient mummy.

HOLMES: The person
we believe is responsible

is a forger
known only as The Theban.

WELLS:
I've heard of him.

He forges Levantine antiquities.

The coffin of Mary Magdalene,
the Akhenaten Papyrus,

head of the Golden Calf.

Those were all him.

Do you know his real name?

No one does.

But there is one thing, however,

that sets The Theban apart
from other forgers.

According to rumor,
he has a way

to fool carbon-14 dating.

It's how he makes his work
seem suitably ancient.

If you can figure out

how he does that,
it might lead you to him.

Rubbish.

There's just no way
to fake radio carbon dating.

The test measures the age
of an object

based on the rate
of radioactive decay.

You can't speed that rate up.

If you could,
Chernobyl and Fukushima

would've been
cleaned up over night.

HOLMES:
That being said,

it was clear that
Mr. Wells thought

what he was saying
to be true.

So I reached out to some
contacts in the art world,

and a few of them
had heard the same rumors.

That The Theban
could somehow fool the test.

Which made us wonder--
what if the rumors

were started
by The Theban himself?

HOLMES: In other words,
what if he was

propagating some
nonsensical story

in order to hide the
truth about how he

was circumventing
authentication?

He might not be
able to bend

the rules of physics,

but he could compromise
the person who's applying them.

You think he uses
a crooked authenticator?

WATSON: We looked into
the few known forgeries

that had been connected
to The Theban.

In particular the three
that Jasper mentioned.

HOLMES: The coffin of
Mary Magdalene,

the Akhenaten Papyrus
and the head of the Golden Calf.

All three were authenticated
by the same person.

Your friend,

Professor Hausmann.

You're kidding.

He tried to convince us
that Mischa's death

wasn't a murder, remember?

Just like he
would if he were

in business with The Theban.

Now, if he is
on The Theban's payroll,

he'd be our best chance
at locating him.

I'll call him right now.

Tell him we need him
to come in here

for another consult.

No need.
Marcus is already on it.

(door opens)

We have a problem.

Hausmann is at
St. Bede's Hospital.

Someone shot him.

Detective who caught the case

just walked me
through her notes.

Hausmann was shot

while walking his dog
in Central Park

around 5:00 a.m.

No witnesses.
HOLMES: Gets worse.

He died in surgery.

Gotta figure The Theban
was the shooter, right?

He was tying up loose ends.

I'm not so sure
The Theban did this.

They found extensive scarring
in Hausmann's lungs.

I saw this kind of damage

back when I was a surgeon--
in a metalworker.

There's a couple things
that could have caused it.

One of them is chronic
potassium sulfide inhalation.

Potassium sulfide is
used to patina bronze,

but it can also be used
to artificially age

metallic objects to
make them look ancient.

A burial mask of a forged
mummy, for example.

Well, the people
who found

The Theban's workshop said he
was wearing a respirator,

so maybe he knew
about the damage to his lungs

and was taking precautions.

Hausmann wasn't working
for The Theban.

He was The Theban.

Say you're right.

Who the hell killed him?

Maybe what you said before
was right--

The Theban was just a middleman.

So someone who owns a bunch
of Jasper Wells's forgeries

hired The Theban to arrange
Mischa Farrell's murder,

then killed him to make sure
he never talked.

If that's correct,
that would greatly narrow

the parameters of our search.

We'd be looking for someone
who had a good deal to lose

if Mischa exposed (cell phone dings)
her father's fakes.

And who had a relationship
with The Theban.

HOLMES: Speaking of
identifying dangerous men,

I've had some feedback
on my art project.

Gotta go.

What's that about?

It's family business.

Come on.

This is one of mine.

This is real.

Hmm. Keep going.

I'll be right back.

Hey.

Was CCS able to break
into Hausmann's phone?

The phone and more.

They got access to
his financials,

including an
offshore account

he used for his
forgery business.

No doubt about it--
he was The Theban.

Few days before
Mischa Farrell was killed,

he received 50 grand from
someone else's offshore account.

Few hours later, he
transferred that same amount

to Blaine Geary.

So he was just a middleman.

How's it going
with Mr. Wells?

Find anyone who
owns his forgeries

and might have a
connection to The Theban?

Well, the overlap between

collectors
of Dutch old masters

and collectors
of Egyptian antiquities

is virtually nil.

And there's no indication
that the ones

who bought fakes
painted by Jasper

have been trying
to move them.

So it makes me think we're
looking in the wrong place.

What do you mean?

The odds that someone

unknowingly bought a fake
from one forger

and has a relationship
with another are slim.

Well, who else would
have lost money

if Mischa Farrell
exposed her dad?

Jasper's been telling me

a little about
how he does business.

He never deals directly
with big collectors.

Instead, he uses middlemen
and cutouts.

You're thinking
the killer isn't

someone who bought
Jasper's fakes,

but someone who
helped sell them?

Imagine you knowingly
sold fakes to criminals.

I mean, you'd be
pretty nervous, too,

if you found out about the book
that Mischa was working on.

Yeah, one of your
clients reads it,

you're the one who
could wind up dead.

So you kill Mischa
to make sure that never happens.

The kind of person
you're talking about

would also be more likely
to know The Theban.

Sounds to me like we
should ask Jasper

if we could take a look
at his contact list.

How were you planning
to kill my father?

Heart attack or...
something more creative?

You're the son.

Sherlock Holmes.

Fleeing is pointless.

The hotel exits have
been secured by MI6.

They helped me identify you.

Your name is Vanja Borozan.

You are a high-priced
assassin.

You're a disciple

of Daniel Gottlieb,

the killer known
as "The Actuary."

And you just locked yourself
in a room with me.

Well, as you can see,
I've disabled your weapon.

And I'm confident
I would prevail

in a physical confrontation.

I have other ways
of eliminating a threat.

Yes, I'm well aware of your
particular modus operandi.

Like your mentor,
you prefer your murders

to look like accidents
or natural causes.

So, as long as I don't
let you approach me

with a syringe or a banana peel,
I should be just fine.

What do you want?

Well, for starters...

did you kill my brother?

Mycroft Holmes?

There was an open contract
out on him four years ago,

offered by a French
crime syndicate,

but no one collected on it.

He died in a kitchen fire.

My brother died
in New Zealand last July.

They say it was natural causes.

Last July, I was in
a Chinese hospital

recovering from a car crash.

Job gone wrong.

Couldn't move,
let alone work.

I'll see if my friends
downstairs can verify that.

In the meantime, who hired you
to kill my father?

I can't answer that.

Oh, you will answer.

Either to me or to the servants
of the queen.

No. No.

No one's getting
anything else from me.

I have family, too.

(body thuds, people scream)

Rubens, Brueghel the Younger,
two van Dycks.

They should easily fetch
ten million apiece

from the right buyer.

All I want is five million

wired to my bank
in Luxembourg.

But it has to be today.

You're not usually
in such a rush.

I apologize, but recent
events have convinced me

it's time to retire.

Think of this as a
going-out-of-business sale.

So, are you interested?

Yes.

Oh-six. Right.

I need four paintings picked up
at the address I gave you.

No billing on the delivery.

I'll pay cash. All right.
(car approaching, siren wailing)

As soon as possible.

BELL: You can cancel
that order.

Unless, of course,
you want to ask

your delivery people to
bring Mr. Wells's paintings

straight to the
11th Precinct.

What's this?
What... what's going on?

What's going on,
Mr. Venetto,

is you're about
to be arrested.

For what?
WATSON: We were listening in on

the conversation
you had with Jasper.

You just agreed
to buy four of his fakes.

There's no crime in purchasing
a few oil paintings

done in the style
of the old Dutch masters.

Actually, there is--
once you try

to pass them off to collectors

as 300-year-old
masterpieces.

But that's not
why we're here.

We're here because
you solicited

the murder of Mischa Farrell.

Murder?

Hands against
the wall.

Oh...

We got a surveillance
warrant for your phone.

We know you just transferred
$5 million to Mr. Wells

from an offshore account
based in Lebanon.

More importantly, we were able
to match that account to the one

that was used to pay Hausmann
to arrange Mischa's murder.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

Oh, sorry.

You probably know him
better as The Theban.

See, you don't sell many
Egyptian antiquities,

but you do sell them.

Gotta figure at least a few
were forged by him.

How else would you
have known to ask him

for help with
your Mischa problem?

Of course, that left you
with a Theban problem,

but you solved that one
on your own.

You shot him
while he was walking his dog.

Please, try to understand.

Mischa's book
would have ruined me.

I've sold almost a hundred
of her father's paintings

over the years-- some of them
to dangerous people.

I never wanted
to hurt her.

You're just another fraud.

In the end,
Mischa exposed you, too.

Armand Venetto,
you're under arrest.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can be used
against you in the court of law.

MORLAND: You're certain
that he was planning to kill me?

HOLMES:
As certain as I can be.

Now, I have not
been able to determine

who he was working for.

I don't know if you
were targeted because of

your day job as
an international consultant

or because of your current
position at the head

of Moriarty's organization.

But whoever hired him,
they would likely try again.

You should be prepared
for more attempts on your life.

I'm afraid I was expecting this.

There's a certain
inevitability to it.

One final problem to face.

I didn't expect
it quite so soon.

You know who hired him?

I understand
that her FBI handlers

lost track of her some time ago.

Of course, they're reluctant
to discuss details. I...

But I assumed she
was regrouping,

gathering her forces
for the final struggle,

but this would seem to indicate
that I was wrong.

But then I wouldn't be
the first Holmes man

to underestimate her.

She's back, son.

And she wants what's hers.

Moriarty.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man