All language subtitles for Murdoch Mysteries (2008) - S05E03 - Evil Eye of Egypt (1080p BluRay x265 Langbard)

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[suspenseful music]

♪♪

"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,
Constable.

Well,
I'm rather confident, sir.

I don't suppose
you had 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,

if 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 apologize, 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, George.

Oh, yes, sir,
while I was writing my book,

I read a great deal
about this very expedition.

See that sickly gentleman
right there?

That's Phillip Uxbridge.

He was the first man
into the tomb.

Hmm.

Oh, and that's
Dr. Alger Greenwood.

Hello.

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 go join the ladies.
- If you'll excuse me.

Yes, 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.

- My favorite-
- A royal couple,

in love, it seems.

New Kingdom, is it not?

Yes.

You have a good eye, Mister...

Murdoch, William Murdoch.

Dr. 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.

[applause]

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.

Dr. 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 honor
of welcoming the royal lady

back to our earthly realm.

[clears throat]

[wood creaking]

[grunts]

[grunts]

Perhaps our princess
is a little shy.

[laughter]

[wood creaking]

[sighs]

[snake hissing]

[crowd gasps]

[grunting]

Ah!

Alger?

Alger.

[crowd gasping]

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.

Sir, 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.

[suspenseful music]

♪♪

[crates bang]

You know, Henry,

my Aunt Primrose
once caught a snake

with her bare hands.

An Egyptian snake?

- No, of course not.
- Don't be ridiculous.

What would an Egyptian snake
be doing in Peterborough?

[hollow tapping]

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.

[chuckles]

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.

[tools rattling]

Uxbridge?

See to the detective.
I'll deal with this.

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

No, no.

- Gentlemen, I-
- No, no.

Mr. Uxbridge,
why are your workers leaving?

We are all cursed
for what we've done.

Cursed?

Beware Queen Maat.

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.

George, I don't want to hear
any more about this curse.

- Hear me out, Higgins.
- I'm telling you.

I've learned a great deal
from the writing of my novel.

Yes, your novel...

I was wondering
when you were gonna bring it up.

- Oh, you mock all you like.
- I've sold 20 books so far.

Well, I hope you didn't offer
a money-back guarantee.

Have you even read it?

Of course, George.

Oh, really?

What was your favorite part?

I liked the part
with the mummy.

Yes, that was very good.

Also, the, uh-.

Snake.

Oh, Henry,
there was no snake in my novel.

You know,
if you haven't read it,

you could just say.

George, the snake.

[snake hisses]

And I mean very carefully,
gentlemen.

This sarcophagus is priceless
and very delicate.

It has no business
in a police station.

I'm sorry,
but I have to determine

how the snake gained entrance.

Well, they do 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...

[sighs]

We found the snake.

Where is it?

It got away, sir.

[sighs]

Oh, no, it didn't.

[gasps]

It followed you.

[whispers]
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.

Oh, 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, in fact,
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...

[snake squishing]

[grunts]

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 endeavor
to identify it.

[sighs]

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 bookseller has asked me
to attend an autograph session

at his establishment
this evening, sir.

It seems Curse of the Pharaohs
has become a best seller.

Well, that's very good news,
George.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you, sir.

Well, I imagine you're busy,
but if you're not,

would you like to attend?

I'd be delighted.

I am very honored
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?

[laughs]

The servant
was the guardian of the tomb.

It 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 folktale
designed to deter tomb robbers.

Ah.

Ah, come now, ladies.

Let us begin the unwrapping

so that the glory of Egypt
can be experienced firsthand.

[ladies gasp]

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 honor
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.

[grunts]

[gasping]

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.

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, then.

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.

Well, 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 Maat, 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 Maat.

It's real.

It's happening to me.

It's a very old story.

Queen Maat 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.

Well, I thought
you were the first man in.

[grunts]

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 Maat

protects all the royal women
of Egypt.

Maat is the goddess
of law and justice, is she not?

Quite so.

How fitting
that you know of her.

Queen Maat, 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 the 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.

Well, 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.

[chuckles]

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
reexamine Mrs. McAllister.

And what am I looking for?

Whatever it is
you missed the first time.

Buzz.

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.

[indistinct chatter]

[applause]

I always knew
I had it in me.

- Well done.
- Congratulations.

Good news, George?

Indeed, sir.

It seems this curse has whetted
the public's appetite

for a good Egyptian yarn.

My book's going into
a second printing as we speak.

Ah, Inspector,
would you like a signed copy,

one for the missus, perhaps?

It's proving to be most popular
with the ladies.

What I'd like for you
to remember, Crabtree,

is 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 off you

and stick it
on that bloody mummy!"

Sirs, I wanted to speak to you
about the legend of Queen Maat.

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.

Now, Uxbridge
claims that he was present

at the beginning
of the curse.

In fact, he himself
believes to be 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, sir.
- He died of a fever.

And it turns out
Phillip Uxbridge

was not the first man
into the tomb.

It was Burrows,
and he died shortly thereafter.

Let me guess.

That was a part of the curse?

[sighs]

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, sir,

and clearly he's suffering

from some
sort of strange illness.

"Stage three:
Bite of an asp."

Are you sure you didn't
just make this up, Crabtree?

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 guides 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're also aware
of how your cobra

managed to enter
their sealed sarcophagus.

I am not.

Do you know
of the curse of Queen Maat?

You westerners
are all so simpleminded.

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.

[speaking Arabic]

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 Maat.

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 quite 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.

[clears throat]

[coins jingling]

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 realize
the kind of attention

this is going to attract?

The overwhelming kind,
I hope.

Mr. Rutherford,
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 traveling circus.

Precisely.

[stone scraping]

- Doctor!
- [gasps]

[stone crashes]

[sighs]

Anubis.

Forgive us, please.

[grunts]

Pity that didn't happen
during the show.

He's here.

- He's here?
- Yes.

[indistinct chatter]

- What is going on?
- Oh, we just want an autograph.

Oh, there he is!

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 bit
of a celebrity, George.

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.

[door creaks]

George, are you
quite all right?

You look rather persecuted.

Price of fame, sir.

Sir, I've narrowed
our list of suspects.

Now, this is a list
of the events

relating to the curse,

and this is 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.

So 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.

Bit of a dangerous game,
don't you think?

Yes, it is, sir,

but I don't yet have
the evidence

to support his guilt.

Right, then.

Crabtree, put a man on him.

- Sir.
- Oh, and, Crabtree?

You'd better find somewhere
other than my station

for your gaggle of admirers
to run riot.

[sighs]

Yes, sir.

Price of fame.

[stone scraping]

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

Dr. Bajjali?

I've asked
for her expert consultation.

Look, Murdoch, I don't like
dragging up the past,

but it does bear reminding.

You aren't always
the most circumspect

when an attractive
and intelligent woman

is involved.

I'll keep that in mind.

Mm.

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.

[sighs]

You're absolutely certain
that the sarcophagus

had never been
previously opened,

and I've 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.

- No?
- 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 sulfate.

It fluoresces
under ultraviolet light.

[mechanical click and buzzing]

It can't be.

"Here lies the body
of Queen Maat."

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?

[sighs]

[solid tapping]

[hollow tapping]

[panel creaks]

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 suspicious deaths

and an attempted murder.

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

Detective,
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 have 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.

[groans]

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 Maat, of course.

Don't you trust
your own eyes?

[indistinct chatter]

Sir.

I just got a report
from Constable Armstrong,

who was watching Mr. Sharif.

Armstrong, George?

Sir, 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, George?

Armstrong hears conspiracies
around every corner.

- I know, sir.
- He's quite convinced.

And who did he say
Mr. Sharif was speaking to?

That lady archaeologist,

Dr. Bajjali.

Iris?

Queen Maat,

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 judgment...

- Sharif.
- Hated for her strength...

- It's her.
- And supreme power.

I prayed it wasn't.

I'm sorry?

Iris-.

She's of royal blood,

descended from the pharaohs.

She's their earthly vessel
of revenge.

Ladies and gentlemen,

no longer the Unknown Princess...

I present to you

the legendary, cursed...

Queen Maat.

[crowd gasping]

[electricity crackling]

[crowd gasping
and muttering]

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.

Sir.

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 only two Egyptians

associated with the exhibit

managed to dodge
this supposed curse?

Because we are both Egyptians,
we must be coconspirators.

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.

Of course;
How could I protest against it

if I wasn't there?

You mean
how could you sabotage it

if you wasn't there?

Sabotage?

How?

I had no access
to any of the artifacts.

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 would 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.

[scoffs]

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 simply cannot wait.

I had a thought.

I'm sure
we can discuss your thought

at a more suitable moment.

Of course.

But 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 chamomile.

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.

[scoffs]

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 now 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.

[both grunting]

Uxbridge!

Iris, are you all right?

[gasping and coughing]

Why did you do it?

It wasn't me.

It was Queen Maat.

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, hmm?

I didn't kill her, I swear.

How did you do-.

Stop.

Stop!

[bell ringing]

Stop!

[gasps]

The fire wagon!

- Out of the way!
- Phillip!

[wagon rumbling]

[chair squeaking]

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 attend
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 realize,
sir, is, leprechauns

are actually nasty little beasts
with very sharp teeth.

And their gold,
if it's even real gold,

is hidden
at the end of a rainbow,

and only a handful of people
have ever even...

Detective, I...

[knocking]

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 chamomile

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.

Mm, 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 homemaking type.

But if all
goes according to plan,

I will be back
among pyramids very soon,

only this time
in the Mexican rain forest-.

Chichén 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.

Good-bye, William.

Good-bye, Iris.

Hyup! Hyup!

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