All language subtitles for 2MrSWr211

Tonight on Murder, She Wrote.

Well, if he didn't die

from the fall and he wasn't shot,

- how did he die? - We found more gold.

- Lots of it. - You White people

think you can come and just take anything you want

- off our lands. - Archeology,

is a harsh mistress, Mrs. Fletcher.

He's a very powerful man and he's very dangerous.

May I remind you that there are laws regarding kidnapping,

even in New Mexico.

You're not a prisoner, Mrs. Fletcher.

Feel free to leave anytime you want.

My God!

I don't suppose the road gets any better.

Nope, gets worse.

This your first dig in New Mexico?

It's my first dig anywhere.

I'm just helping out.

Well, actually, I'm doing research... on a book.

Mystery.

Yeah? Sounds interesting.

Ray. Ma'am.

This is Jessica Fletcher.

Base, this is South One.

I have Raymond Two Crows and a Jessica Fletcher,

- do you copy? - We copy, South One.

Jessica Fletcher is cleared to enter.

Armed guards.

Mr. Armstrong's idea. Man puts up the money,

he's entitled to the protection.

- From what? - Tourists, treasure hunters.

Maybe he's afraid the Indians are gonna come

and take it all back from him.

Was this Indian land?

You sure ask a lot of questions.

Jessica!

Well, for heaven's sake, I'd about given you up.

You were supposed to be here two days ago.

I'm so sorry, Seth,

but Letitia and Henry had the most awful row on Wednesday.

So, naturally you had her over for a couple of nights.

Thank you, Ray. I expect you've got it

all smoothed over by now, haven't you?

Well, I got here, didn't I?

Put him on.

I can hear fine.

Hello! How are you, Carl?

Is the weather always like this?

Nope.

It starts to get hot in a couple of hours.

Jess, when I suggested

that you write a book called Murder at the Dig,

I never dreamed you'd come meandering out

to a place like this.

Suggested?

Well, as I recall, it was more like a dare.

Was it? I don't recall.

In any case, when you leave here,

you'll have one hell of a book and one hell of a suntan,

maybe even both.

I can't wait to see you run into your first iguana.

You'll be sharing space

with young Karen Parks.

She's a nice kid. Karen, you decent?

I'm clothed, if that's what you mean.

Mrs. Fletcher. Karen Parks.

I'm delighted to meet you, Karen.

Well, I hope you like roughing it.

The rougher the better.

Well, that's good, because the air-conditioned quarters

are reserved for the privileged.

Mr. And Mrs. Armstrong have the big one.

She tends to panic when her ice machine goes on the blink.

You'll love her.

And the other one's Aubrey Benton.

Benton. I know that name.

Dr. Aubrey Benton on television,

the one that always talks through his nose.

Yes, of course.

I never knew he was an archaeologist.

I don't think he amounts to much of anything,

except possibly a publicity hound.

Well, why don't we get you settled,

and then we'll get something to eat.

You must be famished after that long jeep ride from Santa Fe.

Well, actually, I could eat an iguana.

Wait a minute. Hang on.

Honey?

Aw, come on, Gid. It's hot out there.

And this is business. Make yourself scarce, all right?

I knew I should've stayed in Phoenix.

Hey, nobody asked you here.

Coming along was your idea.

Butt out.

Yeah? Sorry, Carl.

What have we found?

Well, so far, nothing,

but, it's here.

Well, we found some old pottery and arrowheads.

No, it's here.

Trust me, old buddy.

Listen, I can smell it.

Yeah.

Mrs. Fleisher, what a pleasure to meet you at last.

Aubrey Benton. Well, thank you, Dr. Benton,

and it's Jessica Fletcher.

But of course it is.

- Welcome to Gran Quivira. - Thank you.

Dr. Benton is convinced that we're sitting

on Coronado's legendary City of Gold.

Well, actually, that's Garfield's theory.

He's in charge of this chain gang.

I'm just here in case it happens.

I have the book and TV rights sewed up.

Well, now I am totally confused.

I thought we were here to honor

the 500-year-old Anasazi village.

But what a village.

Mrs...

- Fletcher. - Mrs. Fletcher,

I wonder if perhaps later we might have a little chat.

As fellow authors, I'm sure we have a lot in common.

And besides, my camper can be a very comfortable alternative

at 2:00 in the afternoon.

Well, I'd be delighted, Doctor.

You just name the time.

Good!

Karen, am I going crazy,

or did Dr. Doolittle just try to hit on Jessica?

- Karen? - Hi, Steve.

Garfield's on the warpath.

He wants your warm little body in a dig now.

Boy. Not only do we not get paid,

but we get abuse as well.

Plus brownie points on our transcripts.

You must be Mrs. Fletcher. I'm Steve Gamble.

Hello, Steve.

- Our resident cynic. - Come on, angel.

Let's go find some gold teeth and make the big guy happy.

- See you later. - All right.

- Bye-bye. - Bye-bye.

Well, I've met the resident egomaniac,

the ingenue, and the juvenile.

Not to mention the mysterious Indian

and the crusty yankee doctor.

You know, at this rate,

I'm gonna have enough characters for a trilogy.

Now, who's left out?

How about the brains of the operation?

I see what you mean, Dr. Garfield.

These animals are drawn differently.

Yes, tiny differences,

which help us to understand the civilization

- of which we're studying. - Yes.

Well, I am here to learn,

but I have to warn you I'm a rank amateur.

We have a lot of those around here,

mostly my students from the university.

But I have a high tolerance level.

Good.

So, will you be working with us in the pit?

Wherever the action is.

I hope you enjoy digging a six-foot trench

with a teaspoon.

Garfield? Where have you been?

I need to see those new excavation maps.

I'm sorry, Mr. Armstrong. I've got them in my tent.

Have you met Mrs. Fletcher? Gideon Armstrong.

I'm delighted, Mr. Armstrong.

How do you do?

What are these, more pots?

These are fragments from the fourth level.

It's very exciting stuff.

Yeah?

Well, I want to see those maps.

Right.

Come on, Gideon. Please?

I know how much you love picnics,

but these bugs are beginning to use me for target practice.

All right, I'll be in in a minute, my dear.

Cynthia!

Yes, honey?

I don't believe you've met Mrs. Fletcher.

This is Cynthia Armstrong.

- How do you do? - Don't ask.

Are you one of our new zealous volunteers?

Well, I'm not sure about the zealous part.

Would all of you people believe this?

We just bought a condo in Hawaii.

- Maui. - Gee.

Now, if we could only interest people

in ancient Hawaiian civilization.

Do you know what I mean?

What on earth?

He's not gonna start again.

Please, Gideon.

George, Burt, go after him.

Move out!

I forgot to tell you, our nightly entertainment.

Sitting bull sings the top 40.

Somebody's trying to scare us off.

Somebody named Raymond Two Crows, if you ask me.

You don't know that for sure.

No? Then where is he?

You know, he's got a real line of patter, old Raymond.

"Do not disturb the graves of our ancestors."

"A curse will be upon you."

- "Someone will die." - And this happens every night?

Regular as clockwork.

Armstrong orders out the guard, and then just about...

now...

Yeah... the guards get there,

and he's disappeared into thin air.

"I am the spirit of indigestion.

I've come to haunt you with dreams

of chipped beef on toast."

I don't think that's very funny.

I have a terrible feeling about this.

- It's like a premonition. - What?

You think that's a real ghost up there?

Well, no, but maybe we really are being warned

and we should take it more seriously.

- You know, you could be right. - Jess!

Well, I mean, supposing Dr. Benton's theory is correct?

I mean, supposing this is the lost City of Gold.

No, I don't believe in ghosts, Seth,

but somebody's going to an awful lot of trouble

to, send us a message.

Mrs. Fletcher, you buying all this Gran Quivira nonsense?

I mean, Armstrong, I can understand.

To begin with, the guy knows horse pucky about archaeology.

But even if this expedition doesn't pan out,

he's got himself a big tax write-off.

You know, this is really quite easy,

- once you get the hang of it. - Yeah.

To tell you the truth, before we got here,

most of us were textbook experts.

This is my first dig.

Steve's, too.

Raymond, may I ask you a question?

Yeah.

The Navajo called the people who settled here the "Anasazi",

what does that mean, exactly?

"The great builders."

Thank you. One more question.

Where were you last night

when our friendly ghost began singing?

You know, that's strange.

My research tells me that Anasazi means

"the ancient ones who were here before."

Yeah.

It would appear that our expert on Indian lore

is a mite uninformed.

Seth?

I think I've found something.

How about that?

It looks like gold!

Beautiful.

It's a prayer stick used by medicine men

in their ceremonies.

You see, Gideon? I was right.

Here's your proof.

What's it weigh? What's its value?

Value? Beyond price to the scientific community.

And this is only the first one we've found.

There has to be more, if this was Gran Quivira.

It's your find, Mrs. Fletcher.

I give you the honor of tagging it.

I do thank you. I'm absolutely thrilled.

We'll have a press conference tomorrow--

Early, before it gets too hot.

We can serve a light lunch,

and the reporters can be back in time for the six o'clock news.

- What do you think? - No press conferences.

But, Gideon, this is my most monumental discovery.

We're going to keep this quiet for the moment.

It's a good idea, Mr. Armstrong.

Keep this discovery a secret.

That way, you can steal more of my people's heritage

before anybody has a chance to complain.

You're mistaken, buddy-boy.

This land belongs to a Santa Fe lawyer.

Your ancestors were evicted from these premises

a long time ago.

We have to get rid of him, you know?

We'll talk about this in my trailer.

Karen and Steve?

They've been sniping at each other

ever since I got here.

Well, it's either a case of heat rash

or, maybe something else.

What? You mean romance?

Come on.

You've seen too many Gable-Harlow movies.

Seth, the trouble with you is,

you haven't seen enough.

Well, this is one time that you're wrong,

madam detective.

Those two kids are both grad students

under Stan Garfield.

This dig is a kind of test.

The winner gets a big fellowship,

so I've been told.

- Evening. - Hi.

I heard you hit the jackpot today.

Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that.

We're on our way to dinner. Would you care to join us?

Well, I don't know.

With the bugs and the heat and the dust and everything,

look at me; I'm a walking disaster.

I'll just clean up.

I'll meet you there in a second.

All right.

Where is everyone tonight?

The local laborers go home on Friday.

They'll be back on Monday morning.

Only grad students and archaeologists

are crazy enough to work through the weekend.

And us.

Well, here he is again.

Can't you do something about him?

We've tried, ma'am. What would you suggest?

I don't think you've tried hard enough, Georgie.

- Hey, buddy! - Mrs. Armstrong!

Your act is getting boring!

Boring!

my God.

My--

I didn't mean it.

I didn't mean that.

Who is it?

It's Raymond Two Crows.

He's dead.

I didn't mean to shoot him.

It was an accident.

I-I-I was just trying to scare him away.

I wasn't even aiming!

What the hell's going on here?

We heard a couple of shots.

It's Raymond Two Crows, Sir.

Your wife shot him tryna scare him off.

Is he dead?

He's dead all right, but your wife didn't shoot him.

What?

I don't find any gunshot wounds.

Offhand, I'd say the fall killed him.

Maybe he was frightened by the shots. He slipped.

It was all still my fault.

It was nobody's fault.

That crazy Indian should never have been up here

in the first place.

Look, I want to see all of you

assembled at the mess tent in 15 minutes.

George, you and Burt take the body back to the camp.

Look, honey, it was an accident.

Don't worry about it.

Jess? -

What's eatin' at you?

Well, I was just thinking, Seth.

This robe is very heavy.

Surely it should have fallen right next to the body.

But it landed over here.

I want to put a stop to any speculation

about what may have happened here tonight.

Maybe Raymond was drunk or on drugs or who knows?

Whatever it was,

he lost his footing and fell to his death,

and that's all there is to it.

I feel terrible about this, Gideon.

Well, we all do, Aubrey,

but we've got to face reality.

Well, my thought exactly, but it does raise the question,

why was Raymond up there?

Why this nightly ceremony?

Well, obviously, he was trying to keep us

from making this discovery.

You saw what a troublemaker he was.

He joined this expedition not to help but to destroy it.

Well, perhaps, but still--

What are you getting at, Mrs. Fletcher?

Only that he might not have been up there alone.

If you're suggesting that someone murdered Raymond,

you're insane.

He brought this on himself.

Well, isn't that for the police to determine?

And we're going to radio them, Mrs. Fletcher,

- immediately. - Of course.

In the meantime,

we're gonna have to forget about this accident

and get back to work.

If we leave now, treasure hunters will move in

and deprive the world

of great scientific and educational benefits

- of this site. - Right. I agree.

I have a proposition to make.

In a sense we're all sort of partners here,

sharing in the heat and hard work,

and cook's food, such as it is.

I'd like to make us real partners.

Everyone who stays will receive a generous,

and I mean generous, financial share

in any treasure that we find.

How does that grab you?

Well...

Good.

All right, now let's get a good night's sleep.

Tomorrow we'll get back to work.

Very good.

That Armstrong fellow is amazing.

He could fall into a pigsty

and come up president of the hogs.

Gold fever, Seth.

That's not a pretty sight.

Personally, I'll feel a lot better

when the police get here.

What are you doing?

Don't call the police, not just yet.

There's been a death, Gideon. We have to report it.

Think, Benton.

Do you want this place crawling with reporters now

or after we've found the treasure?

It's not treasure. It's an archaeological find.

Listen, my friend. You're along on this ride

because you smell big bucks-- a new book,

a television special, magazines.

So don't give me any of that goody-goody bull.

You want out?

There's the door.

Santa Fe is 80 miles west.

But if you walk now, Benton,

I'll have you for breakfast.

Well...

I suppose the news of a big find

would lessen the impact of the boy's death.

Just to make sure you don't change your mind.

Jessica?

Can you hear me?

Am I doing this right?

Yes, I can hear you, Seth.

Can you see me?

Course I do.

Well, keep your eyes on me.

I don't see the point of this.

Well, you will.

Now, keep your eyes on me.

My God!

Je--Jessica!

Was that convincing?

Jessica, that was not funny.

Then I was right.

Seth, this ledge I'm standing on

goes clear around to the other side.

If Raymond fell from here, he only fell three feet.

Now, this whole thing does not add up.

Would you take one last look at the body?

I'll look,

but you get down here.

I will, as soon as I do one more thing.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Do give me the pleasure of your illustrious company

- this fine morning. - Thank you, Dr. Benton.

My. What a luxurious breakfast.

Care for a croissant?

They're hot out of my microwave.

Thank you, no. I've already eaten.

My goodness, nearly noon.

The police still haven't arrived.

Well, they said it might be a while

before they could send someone.

Strange.

I would have thought a death under unusual circumstances

would receive top priority.

An accidental death, Mrs. Fletcher.

Care for café au lait? - No thank you.

You must feel deeply distressed about all this.

A young man hired by you

dead under such tragic circumstances.

Armstrong hired him.

He wanted a real Indian guide.

Ju-just for show, of course.

I see.

Mr. Armstrong brought Raymond with him.

Actually, no.

They met when we were outfitting the expedition

in Santa Fe.

Raymond said he knew the area

and was willing to work cheaply.

Magic words, always, to Armstrong.

He's a strange young man.

For all his talk about his heritage,

he knew very little about it.

Perhaps if he'd known more,

he'd still be alive.

Archeology,

is a harsh mistress, Mrs. Fletcher.

I remember an expedition in the wilds of Kenya

that was positively life-threatening.

Weeks of incredible rain.

I lost two Louis Vuitton bags.

You must have been devastated.

What one endures.

Well, I must be getting along.

Mrs. Fletcher,

everyone speaks so highly of your work.

I do believe you might be the one.

The one?

To ghostwrite my autobiography.

I'm thinking of calling it

King Tut, Hannibal, Caesar, and Me.

What do you say?

I'm speechless.

Well, I'd do it myself,

but as you can see, I'm overwhelmed with other work.

I do have a few press clippings

that you might want to glance at.

My.

What a tremendous and weighty undertaking.

Well, naturally, it doesn't cover the whole me,

but at least it's a place to start.

When you have the time, of course.

Well, it's an awesome responsibility.

Let me give it some thought.

Well, of course.

Mrs. Fletcher, I hope your research

into our archeological methods is going well.

Actually, Doctor, I have just begun to dig.

I was just looking for you.

Jess, I checked the body again.

You were right. Things do not add up.

Well, what did you find out?

Raymond did not die from that fall.

Now, in this heat,

it's hard to tell how long he's been dead

because the body temperature doesn't drop very much,

but, now, the body...

is beginning to show signs of purging.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but there it is.

Purging? Purging what?

Well, hours after death, a foamy substance forms

on the body's mouth and nose.

Seth, what're you getting at?

Purging.

A sure sign of death by drowning.

- Raymond Two Crows drowned? - Yeah.

Right here in the middle of the desert?

Well, it's no mistake, Jess.

Raymond Two Crows died by drowning.

I know it's hard to accept-- - I accept it.

No, I may question your chess strategy,

but never your medical credentials.

Thank you.

Which means that someone wanted us to believe

that Raymond fell to his death, because...

- Because what? - Well, because they were afraid

that someone would probe too deeply

and find out the real cause.

That makes sense. Why not?

Well, that's a question for the police to answer.

Speaking of whom,

wonder what's keeping them.

Do you wanna bet they weren't called?

Maybe you and I should take a drive into town.

Madam, that's an impeccable suggestion.

No keys. Check the other one.

I'll see what's in the truck.

Are you folks lookin' for something?

Yes, we need the keys to one of these jeeps.

The doctor and I want to drive into town.

I'm afraid not, ma'am. The keys are locked up,

and no one leaves camp without Mr. Armstrong's permission.

- Now, look, son-- - Just following orders, Sir.

If there's a problem, I suggest you take it up

with Mr. Armstrong.

- Well, I-- - Yes, that's exactly what we'll do.

Thank you.

Mr. Armstrong, at the risk of aggravating

your already short-tempered disposition,

may I remind you that there are laws regarding kidnapping,

even in New Mexico.

You're not a prisoner, Mrs. Fletcher.

Feel free to leave anytime you want.

But not in one of my vehicles.

I would remind you that there are laws regarding grand theft,

even in New Mexico.

Not to mention murder.

Raymond's death was an accident.

- You know that. - Afraid not.

What?

He didn't die from the fall.

Really?

Well, if he didn't die from the fall

and he wasn't shot, how did he die?

- He drowned. - Drowned?

Well, that's impossible.

What kind of a doctor are you, anyway?

One who knows a murder when he sees it.

The fall from that Cliff was staged.

Not by me.

I was with Dr. Benton all evening.

Right, Aubrey?

Y-yes. Yes, all evening.

Dr. Benton, we found more gold.

Lots of it.

Mrs. Armstrong, I must know.

Your husband didn't notify the police, did he?

Mrs. Fletcher, I wouldn't cross Gideon,

if I were you. He--

- Look, I'm sorry, but-- - No, you don't know him.

He's a very powerful man, and he's very dangerous.

And he always gets his way, always.

Believe me. I know.

Look!

Look at this!

Good Lord, look at it! I was right.

This may be the richest site in North America.

- How much more can there be? - Who knows?

Some tombs in South America yielded tons.

Careful, now.

This is an archaeological site, not a coal mine.

Go easy.

Gold fever.

At the moment, no one seems to care

that they're being held prisoner.

Come on.

May we come in?

If you're looking for air-conditioning,

you have come to the right place.

Thank you.

Mrs. Armstrong, believe me,

I have no wish to tangle with your husband,

but we're dealing with a murder here,

and before there's any more trouble,

please, we have to use your radio.

Well, now you're catching on, and I would love for you to,

but he's disabled it.

Like the jeeps. Mind if I have a look?

Be my guest, Doc.

Your husband is buying this land, isn't he?

... How'd you know that?

Well, actually I didn't, but it does make a lot of sense.

I couldn't help but notice the tract maps

with the stamp of a Santa Fe real estate office.

Yeah, but there's no guarantee

that Howard Addington is gonna sell.

Yes, the lawyer from Santa Fe.

Dead as a mackerel.

See? Can I get you anything?

No, thank you.

Mrs. Fletcher, you're not gonna tell Gideon

that I said anything today?

No.

'Cause he'd kill me.

That was a waste of time, wasn't it?

No, I found it most educational.

Let's hope we have as much luck

rummaging through Raymond's belongings.

Mrs. Fletcher?

Well, I'll meet you there.

I'm dreadfully sorry about that business with the jeeps.

Believe me, I had no part in that.

Well, I understand, but the police may not.

Well, Gideon wanted to delay any investigation

until we found more artifacts.

He felt it might soften the impact of Raymond's death.

Really? I thought it was because

he wanted to buy this land

before the news of the gold discovery got out.

Buy this land?

This discovery? That's absurd.

I'm afraid not.

But he would have told me.

I'm his friend. Well, his associate.

And his accessory to murder.

Mrs. Fletcher, that's a monstrous thing to say.

Dr. Benton,

when Gideon Armstrong named you as his alibi,

I couldn't help but notice the color drain from your face.

In fact, you turned dead white.

He's a dangerous man, Mrs. Fletcher.

And he wasn't with you when Raymond died.

No, I was alone.

In my motor home dictating random notes for our book.

Yes, of course, our book.

Well, thank you very much, Dr. Benton.

Mrs. Fletcher...

I was in my motor home, truly.

In fact, well, not that I need an alibi,

but by some freak of coincidence,

I just happened to be dictating when Cynthia fired the rifle,

and the shots are clearly audible on the tape.

My, how fortunate.

Well, excuse me.

Shirts, jeans, underwear,

there's nothing very special here.

Ancient Indians of the Pueblo.

Looks as if he was boning up on his Indian ancestors.

"Raymond Demarco."

One of those Indians from Naples.

- Southwest University puma. - Are you sure?

First place, NCAA class II standings.

Sure I'm sure.

Dr. Garfield teaches at Southwest.

And Karen and Steve study there under him.

Course, it may not mean anything.

It's a big place.

Those are dirty.

Well, you may have noticed, Jess,

the desert is known for dust.

Yeah, but this isn't dust.

It's mud.

And where there's mud, there's water.

Water.

Hey, hey, where you goin'?

Hey!

Jessica, what are you up to?

I don't see any water around here,

nothing but rocks and brush

and a few tumbleweeds.

Jess?

Jessica, where are you?

Je-Jessica!

Jess!

Jess?

Jess?

Are you in here?

Hello?

Who is it?

Who's there?

Good God, woman.

I'm sorry, Seth.

I didn't mean to frighten you.

Dr. Seth Hazlitt, say hello to the famous Indian spirit.

All right, that may be part of it,

but what is this place?

How did you know it was here?

Well, it stood to reason.

I mean, if there had been an old Indian village

many, many years ago,

it would've had to have a place where the water collected.

And I'm supposed to be the amateur archaeologist.

Besides, there's no other way to explain

that greenish mud on Raymond's boots.

Yes, green from the mineral deposits, I expect.

Yeah. Well, come on.

I can hear the water dripping.

Let's see where it's coming from.

I'll take that, Jess.

- Aha. -

This must be where Raymond was drowned.

Well, that's the Southwest University puma again.

Looks like the knife Raymond was carrying.

My, that's beautiful.

I thought those were all under guard

at the sortin' tent.

So did I.

You know, things are beginning to make sense.

I don't want to hear about it!

Steve, wait.

Steve, I told you what happened. That's it, all of it.

Look, Karen, you don't owe me any explanations.

It's your life. Enjoy it.

Mrs. Fletcher.

Karen, I'm so sorry.

I-I didn't mean to eavesdrop--

But I bet you got an earful.

Well, nothing I didn't deserve. Excuse me.

I didn't hear it all, really.

But I did hear you say

that you were with Mr. Armstrong

at the time that Cynthia fired those shots.

You want something juicy for your book?

Sure. Why not?

Yeah, he invited me to his motor home,

told me he wanted to talk to me about Dr. Garfield.

Well, believe me, that's not what he wanted.

I guess maybe his wife isn't keeping him happy enough.

Maybe he just doesn't care.

All I know is, he had me backed into a corner

when the shots rang out.

I tried to tell Steve.

What difference does it make?

You heard me, Carl. Buy it. Buy it all.

Come in.

I don't care. I want this deal to close now,

before we have cops crawling all over the place.

Mr. Armstrong, I wouldn't--

Be quiet, please, I can't hear.

I'll meet his price, whatever it is.

Before you buy this land,

there's something you must know.

Mrs. Fletcher, will you stay out of this?

I want to close the deal now.

That's all, Carl. Bye.

Mrs. Fletcher,

I don't even tell my own wife about my business dealings.

I'm sure not going to listen to you.

As a matter of fact, you listen only to yourself,

Mr. Armstrong, and in this case,

that could prove to be extremely expensive.

- What are you talking about? - Well, if you'll follow me,

I'll show you.

Or not. As you wish.

Dr. Benton, what do you make of this?

Spectacular!

If only the National Geographic were here.

Funny, the artifact has already been tagged.

Very considerate of those ancient Indians,

wouldn't you say?

You mean that's one of my artifacts?

Actually, no.

This is tagged by Southwest University.

What?

Stolen, I suspect, from their archives.

You've been conned, Mr. Armstrong.

- Flimflammed. - That's ridiculous.

This is an authentic Indian site.

No question about that.

But these gold artifacts are recent additions,

salted away among the broken crockery

rather like prizes in a box of crackerjack.

There's no gold here?

And who did this?

What the hell's going on?

The curse was a fraud,

and so was Raymond.

He wasn't even an Indian.

His real name was Raymond Demarco.

He was a student at Southwest University.

Why would he try to fool us?

What was the point?

He wasn't trying to fool us, Karen,

only Gideon Armstrong.

I thought he was trying to scare us away

with all that curse business.

No, no, it was all reverse psychology.

He was trying to convince us

there was something here someone didn't want us to find.

You were so intent on secrecy,

you wouldn't even call the police

when Raymond was killed. Why?

Well, isn't that obvious? I wanted to get the land cheap,

before the owner found out what we were sitting on.

Yes, the owner. Howard Addington of Santa Fe?

Who told you that?

Nobody knew I was dealing with him.

Someone does.

I'm afraid Mr. Addington

is merely representing the real owner of this land,

who, incidentally, happens to be Raymond Two Crows' killer.

But to pull this off,

the killer needed the help of an expert,

someone with impeccable credentials.

What are you trying to do, destroy my credibility?

That does it, Mrs. Fletcher.

You have blown whatever chance you had

of writing my autobiography.

I'm not accusing you of anything.

Believe me, Dr. Benton.

Are you sure the real owner set this up?

Why don't you ask your wife?

Me?

I don't know anything about his business.

Well, if that's true, Mrs. Armstrong,

then how did you know the name of the lawyer

representing this land?

Yes.

How did you know?

His, his name was on all of the tract papers,

all the maps.

No, it's not.

Now, wait a minute.

I just took a shot at him, and that is all.

I-I was standing next to you.

Wasn't I standing next to you when he fell off the mountain?

Yes, but Raymond was killed hours earlier.

He was carried to the top of the Cliff.

Carried by me? Little old me?

I carried him to the top of the mountain?

Well that's where Dr. Stan Garfield comes in.

Me?

I don't know anything about this.

When I mentioned an accomplice with impeccable credentials,

I wasn't referring to Dr. Benton.

I meant you. You're the only one out here

with extensive dig experience, Doctor.

Well, don't even know this Raymond...

Dr. Benton, how did you meet Mr. And Mrs. Armstrong?

It was at a cocktail party. Stan introduced us.

So what? That doesn't mean anything.

You packaged this expedition, Dr. Garfield.

You and Cynthia.

And while she was down at the camp,

pretending to be intoxicated,

you were up on the Cliff,

wearing the buffalo robe

and masquerading as the ghost.

Cynthia fired wildly.

You shoved Raymond's dead body off the ledge...

and you threw the robe over the cliff,

which explains why it landed so far from the body.

I'm not gonna take the rap for you.

You killed him.

I didn't kill him. You killed him.

This is insane.

You and Mrs. Fletcher, you just made this up.

It won't work, Mrs. Armstrong.

Do you remember Dr. Hazlitt and I passed your trailer?

We asked you to join us for dinner?

Yes.

And you were scraping greenish mud off your shoes.

The same mud that was found in the cave

when Raymond was killed.

Cynthia, why?

I gave you everything you wanted.

You gave me

exactly what you wanted to give me,

thanks a lot, Gideon,

and exactly when you wanted to give it.

And what I really wanted

was out of this rotten marriage

and your miserable face out of my sight.

Yes, I bought the land secretly.

And it was Stan.

He found Raymond.

That's a lie! It's a lie!

Yes, you did, you found Raymond,

and you got him to steal the gold artifacts

from the university museum.

And then he made sure

that there were gonna be all inexperienced people

working at this dig, people who could be fooled.

And as for you, Benton,

you were easy.

But why kill Raymond?

Because he got so greedy.

We could've made millions on this.

But he came at me, and...

he made all these crazy threats to me.

He-he threatened he would tell my husband the truth.

You're either gonna cut me in on this,

or I'm gonna go straight to Armstrong.

I had to stop him.

I had to get rid of him.

I-I picked up this rock, you see, and...

I... I killed him.

Why did you throw the body off the Cliff?

To hide the real cause of death.

You see, they couldn't leave the body in the cave,

because once he was discovered missing,

there'd be a search, and we might've found him there.

Actually, the fall would have hidden

the real cause of death

if he had died from the blow on the head.

What you hadn't realized was that he died of drowning.

If you just had come to me,

we could have talked it out.

And you would have listened to me,

wouldn't you have, Gideon?

I'll radio the State Police.

The next time I invite you to a place like this,

kick me.

Well, the next time I accept, kick me.

No, actually,

it might have been a lot of fun,

- you know. - Yeah?

A fellow I know is organizing a new dig

in Tanzania next year.

Of course, it won't seem quite the same

without the iguanas and the gila monsters.

Not to mention the lizards.

No, I do not want to visit Carlsbad with you.

Well, who cares?

I mean, what kind of an invitation was that, anyway?

A woman wants to be asked, not told.

Quit eavesdropping, Seth.

Shh, woman.

- All right, Karen, I'm asking. - Steven Gamble,

you are the most mulish, pigheaded, thick-skulled--

That sounded like something out of a Gable-Harlow movie.

What do you know about Gable-Harlow movies?

Would you like me to give you a rundown

on Red Dust, Saratoga,

China Seas, Wife vs. Secretary?

You know, Seth, you're an old romantic.

No, just got a hell of a memory.