All language subtitles for MrSWr6E07.Night.of.the.Tarantula.

Obviously, it's supposed to represent Adam.

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Obeah is the jamaican form of voodoo, Mrs. Fletcher.

You swore to me

that he would do as you told him

and marry my daughter!

Obeah talking drums.

They talk of death.

And when the dying starts

let her go.

Adam is dead.

No!

The grave cannot have him.

Obi coming! Obi coming!

Mother of darkness,

queen of all who walk the night,

hear my prayer.

Grant that,

like the fly in the web,

so shall the chosen

remain in the faith.

Olivia, it's not possible!

Were we ever that young?

We were.

That summer you spent

with your cousin Emma in London.

Mmm-hmm.

How we ever survived

some of Emma's crazy pranks is beyond me.

Do you remember the night that we rented a taxi

and drove all the way to Blenheim Palace

to see Winston Churchill?

And we would have, too,

if he hadn't been off in France or something.

You know, I'm really sorry that she's not coming.

She was a little vague about her reasons.

I hope she's all right.

Of course she was vague.

I had the same worry,

so I asked Harry to check up on her.

She's opening in a new musical revue Tuesday.

But that's wonderful! In the West End?

Blackpool Pier.

She'd die if we knew.

Mum's the word.

And how is Harry?

Oh!

Same as ever.

Hardnosed, opinionated,

difficult.

But he's gotten me through 20 long hard years

without Jack and I love him for it.

And he never did marry?

I think raising his brother's family

was all he could handle.

Adam and Mark weren't easy.

I don't suppose I was, either.

You still miss Jack?

Every now and then.

Mornings.

Evenings.

It's going to be difficult for Harry now.

I don't quite know what to do about it.

Difficult? Why?

- Adam's 30th birthday party. - Oh, yeah.

That is the reason you're here, Jessica.

Oh, yes, of course.

When Adam comes into his inheritance,

he'll be in charge of the plantation.

But Harry's not sure he's ready.

At this very moment, Harry is furious.

Adam's been in Kingston on business

for the past three weeks and virtually unreachable.

Harry can't imagine what he's up to.

Well, at least he'll be home this evening.

Thank heavens.

If Adam misses his own birthday party,

I'll never forgive him.

Olivia!

Oh, I beg your pardon. Didn't mean to interrupt.

There's a totally confused fellow

called Reggie on the phone.

Wants to talk to you about the party.

Reggie?

Oh, you must mean reggae, not Reggie.

As in reggae music.

Oh, reggae, Reggie...

you'd have imagined after all these years

of being ruled by the British

that these people would have learned

to speak the queen's English.

Well, to tell you the truth,

I've heard the same complaints made about us Americans.

Well, Harry,

why don't you take Jessica into the garden

while I finish up these last-minute party plans?

Well, now you're sure there's nothing

I can do to help?

Oh, absolutely. Go on.

Delighted to.

Of course, the whole thing was a complete jungle

after my brother died.

But I managed to whip it into shape.

Now we grow twice the crops that Jack did

and make nearly twice the profit.

Well, it certainly sounds

as if Adam's gonna have his work cut out for him,

taking charge of a place like this.

No.

Adam has more chance of becoming King of England

then he has of running this place efficiently.

Oh, don't mistake me, Jessica.

Adam's a perfectly nice lad,

but he lacks the knowledge and the discipline

to keep a place like this going.

I'm sure some hands-on experience

will change all that.

Hmm, I wonder.

Just recently,

especially over the last three weeks,

my nephew has spent more time off the job than on it.

Uncle Harry?

Oh, dear!

Don't tell me that Adam has come home already?

No, I'm afraid not.

- Jessica! - Oh, my!

This can't be Mark!

You know, the last time I saw you,

you were a chubby faced little boy

who couldn't keep his clothes clean

more than a minute.

Guess some things never change.

I'm sorry I wasn't awake when you got in last night.

Oh, don't be silly.

I imagine working this place

entails some very early morning hours.

Especially when you're having to fight field rats

with an outdated poison.

Or when a thief makes off with a prize mare

for want of a decent security system.

The liquid tetrotoxin

works perfectly well as long as it is properly applied.

And as for horse thieves,

any idiot knows that the best security system

is a dog chained in the stable.

Excuse me.

If only Mark had half the brains of his brother...

or that Adam had half the willingness

to work that Mark has.

Come along, I want you to meet someone.

Well, hello, Mark.

Good morning, Sir.

- Bonjour, monsieur. - Good morning, Jean-Pierre.

You must be the lady writer friend Mrs. Fletcher.

I am Jean-Pierre Dusant.

I am honored and delighted to meet you.

Why, how very kind, Mr. Dusant.

You'll have to forgive Jean-Pierre.

He's French.

Forgive him for what?

Good morning, Michelle.

Well, it's about time someone remembered me.

Let me take that.

Ah. Michelle,

this is Olivia's friend, Jessica Fletcher.

Mrs. Fletcher, this is my daughter, Michelle.

Oh, how very nice to meet you.

Welcome to Moss Hill.

I do hope they put you in the blue room.

It has such a lovely view.

Oh, yes, it's charming.

Olivia asked if she could borrow

the crystal punch bowl.

Is she in?

In the kitchen, going over tonight's menu.

Is that a new dress, Michelle?

Looks terrific.

Did you get it in Kingston?

Every time I see that punch bowl,

I remember the parties my parents gave here.

Of course, I was very young.

Oh?

Oh, the Dusants used to own this plantation

until my father Drew a royal flush

against his father's full house back in '46.

You mean this entire estate was won in a card game?

Oh, yes.

All except the North 200 acres.

Fortunately, those 200 acres are the richest in Jamaica.

Other planters have been offering

to buy me out for years.

And you've never been tempted to sell?

Well, perhaps I'm too romantic.

I don't know.

I dream of one day

my father's land being reunited

perhaps in marriage, eh, Harry?

It won't be long now, Jean-Pierre.

Well, from the look on his face,

I'm surprised that Mark has waited this long.

Mark?

Oh, my dear Mrs. Fletcher, not Mark.

No.

Michelle is going to marry Adam.

Oh, are they engaged?

Olivia didn't mention it.

Oh, well, it isn't official yet,

but we've long had an understanding,

Jean-Pierre and myself.

Oh, isn't it wonderful?

It's such a unique blend of rhythms and sound.

The happy sound of an happy people.

And why shouldn't they be happy?

Everything they've got has been given to them

by men who came here and took control

and then really built something here.

Perhaps we're happy despite that.

Ah.

The representative of the local press.

Hello, Harry. Jean-Pierre.

George.

Have you met Jessica Fletcher?

Mrs. Fletcher,

George Gordon.

- How do you do? - How do you do?

Mr. Gordon, did I understand that you're a reporter?

A reporter, editor, typesetter.

Yes, he has a little local weekly paper.

By yourself?

Oh, I admire your initiative.

Some people might say gall.

If you'll excuse me.

Well, Harry doesn't seem to think much

of the fourth estate.

Or of the people it serves.

Ah, that's the English.

But we French think very little of empty glasses.

Please, will you allow me?

I shall be right back.

He's a very charming man.

Jean-Pierre's manner,

like his property, is very well cultivated.

That's one thing I really missed on the mainland.

A sense of tradition, of gentility.

And you've lived in the states?

- I resided in Hollywood. - Oh.

I could hardly call it living.

I had this naive ambition to become the first

truly successful black film entrepreneur.

I failed to realize

how little the entrepreneurs already there

welcomed new competition.

But isn't that just as true of Muncie, Indiana?

You may be right.

Don't misunderstand,

I don't regret the experience.

I spent years doing everything

from props and stunts to special effects

and makeup on slash and trash horror films.

The pay wasn't bad, either, man.

But after a while,

I realized I was just marking time.

It didn't count for anything really.

That's when I decided

to come home to Jamaica

where I might make a difference.

And have you?

Everyone! Everyone, please.

Please, may I have your attention?

Our lookout just called. Adam's coming.

Everybody be quiet! Lights!

It's Adam all right.

Hello.

Is anybody home?

Mother?

Harry?

Hello!

All: surprise!

For he's a jolly good fellow

for he's a jolly good fellow

for he's a jolly good fellow

which nobody can deny

happy birthday, darling.

- Are you surprised? - Catatonic.

But my birthday's not until Wednesday.

We all know this,

but how else can we make it a surprise?

Excuse me.

Jessica! I don't believe you're here!

And why not?

I wouldn't have missed this surprise for the world.

I'm glad because

I have a little surprise of my own.

Oh?

I was going to prepare you for this in private, mother,

but I guess now that's out of the question.

Prepare me for what?

Come on.

Mother, everyone,

this is Selina,

my wife.

It's a complete disgrace!

For years you have promised me,

"don't worry, be patient."

Adam will sow, what do you say, a few wild oats.

But in the end you swore to me

that he would do as you told him

and marry my daughter!

Well, I'm not exactly happy about it,

but this is no time for recriminations.

He's right, papa.

Your dream of bringing the family's land together

again is dead now,

and there's nothing we can do.

Not necessarily.

But Adam is married, yes?

Adam is married, yes. Mark is not.

And by the terms of the will, Mark stands to inherit

a full 1/3 of this plantation when he turns 30.

Marry Mark? Oh, for God's sakes!

Well, why not?

It's obvious he's in love with you.

What's obvious, Harry,

is that you want those 200 acres of ours

and you don't care how you get them.

Besides, if you think I'd settle

for being number two around here,

think again.

This house was promised to me, Harry, by you,

and I will never forgive you

for letting it be snatched away.

Then I would stop throwing temper tantrums

and do something about it.

After all, who knows what is on Adam's mind.

He may tire of the place.

He may decide to take his newfound playmate off

and go and conquer new worlds.

He may fall ill.

Or worse.

No, my dear.

Instead of stamping my tiny foot...

I would consider other possibilities.

I only wish you'd had the chance to meet him.

He was very special, Selina, very charming.

I guess it runs in the family.

Why else would you have eloped with me

after knowing me only three weeks?

Well, maybe I knew a good thing

when I saw it.

I imagine that your family

must have been as surprised as we were.

Well, actually, there's just my father.

Selina's mother died the same year dad did.

Oh, I'm sorry.

That must have been

very difficult for both of you.

Then your father never remarried?

No, he couldn't.

I mean, in my father's eyes,

my mother was never really dead.

Perhaps the same way you felt

about your late husband, Mrs. Waverly.

You're so right.

And please, Selina, call me Olivia.

Uncle Harry?

You wait here. Where's Harry?

Why? What's wrong?

What is all this shouting?

I caught a tramp making his way

through the wood toward the house.

I'm no tramp, Sir.

Poppy?

You know this man?

His name is Calder Williams.

He's Selina's father.

Poppy, what are you doing here?

I have come to take you home, child.

No, Poppy, this is my home now.

No.

Your home is with the people, the faith.

Not with the blancs.

Can you not see how they contaminate you?

Actually,

I think it is we

that have the pollution problem.

Keep your mouth shut, Harry.

Come, Selina. Don't disobey Poppy.

No, Poppy! Poppy, no!

I'm sorry you don't approve, Mr. Williams,

but you can't just take Selina.

She doesn't want to go.

She is my daughter. She will do as I bid.

And you will come home now.

Let her go.

Much as I'd like to be rid of the pair of you,

the idea of having to ransom back this woman

with hard-earned Waverly money does not appeal to me.

Let her go, Mr. Williams...

or I will put a piece of lead in your black heart.

You whites are all the same.

If you can't buy it, you think you can take it.

But there are some things

a bullet won't stop, Mr. Waverly.

Evil things

that I can invoke to curse this house.

And when the dying starts, man...

you won't just let my daughter go.

You will beg me to take her from you.

A wedding gift.

Go after him, Selina.

Talk to him.

I can't. Not when he's like this.

Well, I'm not going to be frightened

by all this gibberish.

Adam, wait!

It's moving.

For God's sake, shoot it!

No! It's only a little boa.

It'll help kill the rats.

I'll toss him in the tool shed

till one of the men can release him someplace.

Wait.

You can get rid of this, too.

Bloody mumbo-jumbo.

Livy. Livy, are you all right?

What do they mean?

That's what I'd like to know.

They're awfully close by.

If this is a joke, I am not amused.

It's no joke.

Those are kimbanda kayas.

Obeah talking drums.

Yes?

Well, next time your father wants to chat,

have him use the telephone.

We don't know her father's behind this, Mark.

No?

Who else would be playing those drums

so no one can sleep?

What are they saying?

They talk of death.

Where's Harry?

He must be a very sound sleeper.

Well, not usually.

Strange he hasn't come out of his room.

Uncle Harry?

Uncle Harry, you in there?

Strange.

I saw him go to bed at 11:30.

Is there another key to this room?

Harry had the only one.

And it's still in the door.

Well, then, he's gotta be in there.

How else could a door be locked from the inside?

Harry, open the door.

We'll have to break it down. Come on, Adam.

No, wait, wait, wait.

Just a minute.

Just a minute. Excuse me.

Where on earth did you learn that?

I think it was the thin man returns.

Or maybe it was Charlie Chan in Hong Kong.

My God!

Harry.

This is all my fault.

If I hadn't married Adam, his uncle would still be alive.

No, that's total rubbish!

A death threat is never total rubbish.

But isn't it obvious

that horrible snake strangled Harry?

Yeah, about that, Mr. Waverly.

You said that earlier in the day,

you disposed of the snake.

In a plastic bag.

I put him out in the tool shed.

Well, obviously, someone's taken him

out of the shed, hid it in Harry's bed,

the snake got hungry and...

Hungry?

Yeah, a snake like that will only kill to eat.

Well, in that case,

wouldn't it only kill what it can eat?

What are you saying, Jessica?

That whoever took the snake killed uncle Harry

and left the snake to throw us off?

Well, that might explain

the faint bruise marks on his neck.

But the door and all the windows

were locked from the inside.

So no one could have killed him

without unlocking at least one of them.

No one human.

I'd like to think

that there's a more rational explanation.

Perhaps so.

But in any case, the Kingston C.I.B.

will surely want to handle this themselves.

I've sealed off the bedroom until I can report this

and get their help.

But you can be sure

we'll do everything humanly possible.

Let us hope it is enough.

Mrs. Fletcher!

Good morning.

Good morning.

Find any gris-gris charms? Maybe a few chicken bones?

Oh, I see that news travels fast even without a newspaper.

Not news. Gossip.

I do try to make a distinction.

What are you looking for?

Some other way to get into that room.

Mmm.

So maybe you can take the curse off the curse?

And supposing you can't?

Well, what do you mean?

Obeah is the jamaican form of voodoo, Mrs. Fletcher.

I've seen some of their Pocomania rites.

I've seen obi priests do things I still can't believe,

much less explain.

Oh, I have no doubt of that, Mr. Gordon.

But I don't think that voodoo had anything to do

with Harry's death.

Then how do you explain the locked room, man?

Human killers can't walk through walls.

Well, maybe they can

if the walls contain some sort of secret passageway.

It's certainly possible.

Some of these older places had them installed

as escape routes during slave revolts.

But have you checked the room?

Unfortunately,

Sergeant Jones sealed it off

until the C.I.B. arrive sometime tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

That's a waste of an entire day!

Look, I'm no obi priest,

but perhaps a little push from the press

can persuade zac to open the door.

By all means, press on.

Sorry, darling,

but I must go deep to ease the pain.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I thought you were alone.

Oh, Jessica. No, it's okay. Come in, please.

Selina was just giving me a massage

for a monster of a migraine.

Oh, dear.

I have some aspirin if it'll help.

No!

I mean, it's really nice of you to offer,

but he's already had twice what he should have.

Besides, Selina swears this special tea of hers

will knock it out in no time.

- Special tea? - Oh, it's nothing.

It's just some herbs and some hot water.

If you'll excuse me,

I was just about to make some more.

She's really something, isn't she?

She'd have to be

to stand up to a man like her father.

Yes, well, we knew her father

would not agree with the marriage.

I offered to postpone until he got used to the idea,

but Selina thought it best to make a clean break.

It never occurred to us

he would come after her like this,

much less this voodoo nonsense.

Yes, your mother is very worried.

I thought if I could ease her mind,

I ought to try.

Adam, is it possible

that there's some sort of a secret passageway

in this house that no one knows about?

Well, the house certainly is old enough to have one.

Except for this room and uncle Harry's,

which had to be rebuilt

after a fire destroyed them in the '30s.

Still, I believe they used the original plans.

So, if there are any secret passageways,

wouldn't they be in the blueprints?

Mmm.

Probably in the bottom of some file

in the bottom of some box down in the basement.

- Aren't they always? - Almost always.

In fact, I believe Mark had them out just yesterday

checking a support beam or something.

And I believe he put them in this cabinet.

Oh, that would be lucky.

Ah, yes. Here they are.

Now,

let's see what we've got.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

I'm sorry, Jessica,

but I just got back from town to find the men aren't working.

Under the circumstances,

I felt the men should have the day off.

During harvest?

We've got a plantation to run.

We?

Oh, no, Mark. I've got a plantation to run.

And I'm running it my way.

And what way is that, Adam?

Straight into the ground?

That's enough!

It's bad enough you have to argue

in front of a guest,

but on today of all days.

I'm sorry, Jessica.

Oh, don't be silly.

Everyone's feeling the strain of what happened.

Apparently so.

The Dusants have arrived to pay their condolences.

I won't have a scene from either of you.

Is that clear?

I've invited them for lunch.

I had always hoped to share this with Harry

in toast to our families' future.

And now it is only right that together we drink

to the splendid man who has passed.

Mark, would you do the honors?

It's a beautiful gesture, Jean-Pierre.

Here, please.

Harry would not want tears.

Somehow it doesn't seem right sitting in Harry's place.

You run the plantation now, Adam.

You sit at the head of the table.

The privilege comes with the responsibility.

That's right, Adam. It's only fitting.

An angel, yes?

When we heard about Harry,

she insisted that we put aside our differences

and pay our respects.

Yes, this kind of thing puts everything else

in the proper perspective.

Exactly what she said.

"Papa," she said,

"Harry's death

puts a new perspective on everything."

And now,

a toast.

To Harry Waverly, a fine man who is sadly missed.

This was so kind of you, Jean-Pierre.

Mr. Waverly, Sir.

I found this on the porch. It has your name on it.

An Obeah doll.

Obviously, it's supposed to represent Adam.

Lovely.

Another present from your father, Selina?

Leave her alone, Michelle!

It'll take hell of a lot more than dolls to make...

Adam!

- How is he, doctor? - Will he be all right?

I've given him the antidote. The rest is up to Adam.

Antidote?

Forgive me, doctor,

are you saying that Adam was poisoned?

The next few hours will be crucial.

Adam will either

recover completely by then, or...

Well, let's keep our thoughts positive.

But how could he have been poisoned?

Something he either ate or drank

was contaminated with a substance

called tetrotoxin.

- That's rat poison. - Yes.

The only surprise is the way Adam's body

began to fight the poison right away,

as if some of the helleborus antidote

was already in his system.

It was.

Hellebore is one of the herbs

I used this morning in the tea

I made for Adam's migraine.

How fortunate

that you just happened to give him that tea

before he was poisoned.

That tea may be what saved his life.

- May I see him? - Of course.

But, as I said, it may be hours

before his condition changes one way or the other.

He'll want his family there when he wakes up.

Well, there's no sense in Jessica having to stay.

I'll run her home and come back.

Oh, I'm fine, really.

No. No, Jessica, Mark's right.

I'll phone the minute there's any change.

All right.

Mrs. Fletcher!

I tried phoning you at the house.

The maid told me what happened.

How's your brother?

I wouldn't know. I'm not the doctor.

Listen, I'm sorry to rush,

but I wanna run Jessica home

and get back as soon as possible.

Let me take her. Save you the trip, eh?

Well, now, that's very kind, Mr. Gordon.

Now, look, I'll be fine, Mark.

You stay here where you're needed with your mother.

So,

do I hear what really happened to Adam,

or would you rather I believe the obi story

I got from the maid?

What happened to Adam

was no more supernatural than rat poison.

Though someone went to a great deal of trouble

to make it look otherwise.

What are you saying?

That someone is deliberately using the curse

as a cover for murder?

All I'm saying is that if they are...

Well, the killing may not have ended here.

George, did you manage to get in touch

with Sergeant Jones about opening up Harry's room?

I went to the station,

but zac's out beating the bushes for Calder Williams.

He probably thinks

that Selina's father is his best suspect.

Mmm, and his most elusive.

There's just no room for a secret passageway.

See?

The space between the walls of Harry's room

and the ones on either side of it is much too narrow.

Yes. It certainly looks that way.

That's odd.

Wait.

These aren't the plans for Harry's room.

- These are for this room. - Yes. Yes, I know that.

But Harry's room is directly above this room.

See?

Now look at the fireplace in these prints.

So?

Now, look at the actual fireplace here.

Oh, I see.

The fireplace in the plan projects out from the wall,

but this one is flush with the wall.

Exactly.

As if the walls were brought out

to be flush with the fireplace.

Now if the corresponding walls in Harry's room

were built the same way...

Then we'd have enough room for a secret passageway.

But even if we have found the secret passageway,

that still doesn't tell us who the killer is.

But your handkerchief does.

My handkerchief?

But unfortunately,

it's not the kind of proof that we need.

Who are you calling?

The clinic.

I want to check up on Adam.

Adam is dead?

I'm sorry.

I didn't want to tell you over the phone.

But how?

He came to only once,

and then in so much pain

he didn't even recognize us.

Then he was gone.

Jessica's there with him now.

I couldn't bear to leave him alone.

I'm so sorry.

I'll be all right, really.

It's Selina I'm worried about.

Apparently, the shock was too great for her.

She completely fell apart.

She kept saying Adam wasn't really dead

and carrying on until...

finally they had to sedate her.

Of course, we brought her back here to the house.

But Sergeant Jones has called

and asked me to come back to the clinic.

Some kind of paperwork.

But with the maid gone,

and Selina in the condition she's in...

I hate to impose,

but might you be able to stay until we get back?

It shouldn't be long.

Of course.

You stay as long as you like.

I will be here.

I will always be here.

Thank you.

Perhaps you could start a fire in the hearth.

The house seems so chilly.

Come along, mother.

Adam?

Adam?

Selina, are you all right?

Of course.

But Adam is coming

and I must be here when he arrives.

Perhaps you'd better go back upstairs

and lie down for a while.

I must be here to let him in.

He's not coming back.

I'm sorry, Selina.

Adam is dead.

No!

The grave cannot have him.

He's mine.

He'll always be mine.

You do not know what you are saying.

Here, please, let me help you back upstairs.

Adam!

It's impossible!

You're dead. You're dead.

I'm warning you, stay back or I'll shoot!

No!

What is this?

What's going on?

I'm sorry, Mr. Dusant,

but I'm afraid you're under arrest

for the murder of Harry Waverly

and for the attempted murder of his nephew, Adam.

Attempted murder?

I don't understand.

I was told that Adam was...

Dead?

You don't really believe in zombies,

do you, Jean-Pierre?

"Following his full confession,

Sergeant Jones

Jean-Pierre was taken into custody

by the Kingston C.I.B."

Good.

It all seems so impossible.

It would have been

if Adam hadn't survived the poison

Jean-Pierre put in his wine.

But I still don't understand

how you knew it was Jean-Pierre.

Well, Mark could have done it

while he was pouring the wine.

But the fact is the person who poisoned Adam

had to have planted the obi doll

to make it look like part of the curse.

And, thanks to you,

I knew that that person was Jean-Pierre.

Me?

Remember the handkerchief

that Jean-Pierre loaned you yesterday?

I noticed the faint black

and red smudges on it at the time.

But it wasn't until George

smudged his hand on the obi doll

and used his handkerchief to wipe it off

that I made the connection.

According to Sergeant Jones,

Jean-Pierre confessed that he'd made the doll

and left it at the back door.

And you were right

about how he administered the poison.

He put the lethal dose in Adam's glass

before the wine was even opened,

knowing that Adam would be seated

at the head of the table.

What could he possibly have hoped to gain by all this?

It seems Harry had always promised Jean-Pierre

that Adam would marry Michelle

and bring the Dusant lands together again

under his grandchildren.

When that didn't happen,

Harry tried to fob the Dusants off with Mark,

who would only inherit 1/3 of the estate.

Unless he happened to be the only living heir.

That Obeah curse must have seemed

just like the chance that he needed.

He told zac

all he had to do was steal the boa

and then wait until Harry went to bed.

And then, when he knew Harry was sleeping,

Jean-Pierre slipped into the house

through the secret passageway to Harry's bedroom.

It must have been easy.

Harry's sound asleep, the room's safely locked.

When it was over,

Jean-Pierre put the snake in Harry's bed

and came out the same way he came in.

Through the secret passage.

Imagine, living here all these years

and never knowing about that passageway.

Jessica, you're an absolute genius.

Oh, hardly.

All I knew was there had to be another way into Harry's room.

And Jean-Pierre was the one most likely to know

because he had been living here at the time it was built.

The problem was proving he knew about it.

I mean, if it hadn't been for George's special effects,

we'd never have tricked Jean-Pierre

into using that passageway.

Some pale makeup, some phony blood packets,

blanks in Harry's gun.

Any veteran of Hollywood horror films

could easily have done the same thing.

Well, what's amazing to me

is how close I came to actually believing in that curse.

Oh, it's easy to let your imagination

run away with you.

The fact is, Jean-Pierre was counting on it.

You've both done more than I can ever thank you for.

And I'll never forget it.