Original subtitles

There was a time in China when smoking opium

was a sign of wealth...

Wealth in that it was illegal

and only the affluent could escape prosecution,

but also because wealth allowed for a certain leisure

that the smoking of opium desires.

And it was these prosperous patrons

who understood opium's value to artists, philosophers,

and allowing this golden age of Ch...

Only a little.

Apologies, Emperor.

Enough history.

We are here to enjoy the present.

So let us retire to the den

and let's imagine those noblemen and women of China,

resplendent in their robes of silk.

Let us partake in their same custom.

My highest quality chandu. Six drops should suffice.

Yes. Mm-hmm.

Good. Now place the wok over the flame.

Use the needle to stir.

It will become gummy.

Like this, Emperor?

Yes, precisely. Now roll the opium gum into a pill.

Place the pill on the end of the needle

and carefully thread it through the hole

at the bottom of the bowl.

Ah, you're a natural, my boy.

Now, I need hardly tell you what to do next.

Ling. Ah, there you are.

Are we prepared?

This is excellent, Emperor.

So strong.

My body feels it in every inch.

Sir. Byron Sutton, 23 years of age.

A student at the university.

Survived only by his father, I'm told.

Any witnesses to the incident?

All of them, sir.

I've only begun speaking with them

but apparently they indulge in this fashion once a week,

this week being no exception.

None of them report seeing anything unusual.

And who owns this home?

Professor Aldous Lawrence, Sir,

the man in the smoking jacket.

These are all his students at the university.

He teaches Oriental studies,

although this particular group

is not affiliated with the school.

This is the Earthen Dragon Society.

And its purpose?

To further appreciate the mysteries of China, apparently.

In other words, to smoke opium.

Come, my dear.

Sir, the Earthen Dragon Society has four students...

The unfortunate deceased Byron Sutton,

Mr. Gregory Cummings,

Susan Trent...

And this is her brother, Matthew Trent.

May we leave, please?

My sister is... is unwell.

Mr. Trent, what can you tell me about this evening's events?

Nothing, really. Nothing of importance.

Everyone smoked opium.

Byron thought that it was just marvelous.

Did he say anything?

He mentioned something about it being strong,

that he could feel it all over his body or some such nonsense.

So, Mr. Trent, your experience was not the same?

I really should get her home.

I should like to speak with her first.

She's r-really quite distressed. Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?

Sir, she is in a state.

I tried to speak with her earlier.

It was a fruitless conversation.

- Tomorrow, then. - Yes, thank you.

If they can leave, I imagine so can I.

Gregory Cummings, sir.

Did you notice anything unusual this evening, Mr. Cummings?

No, not at all.

Other than Byron was given his own vial of opium

and taught to roll his own pill.

This was unusual?

The pipes are always prepared by Mrs. Lawrence.

And rolling is a sacred art form

that none of us are permitted to attempt.

The Emperor saw fit to allow Byron, for some reason.

The Emperor?

What we call Professor Lawrence.

I see.

So no one else smoked the same opium that Mr. Sutton did?

No, the rest of the pipes were prepared in the kitchen,

as usual, by Mrs. Lawrence.

Right.

Sir, where is your wife?

Oh, I put her to bed.

Detective, I'm happy to speak with you further.

Perhaps it could wait until tomorrow.

You are referred to as the Emperor?

Yes, I had the hubris to decorate my den

with a five-clawed dragon.

In ancient China, such a dragon was reserved for royalty.

Anyone else with one would be put to death.

Even my students wouldn't dare to possess a five-clawed dragon.

I see.

I'll need you to provide me with the vial of opium

from which Mr. Sutton prepared his pipe.

I couldn't tell you what killed him.

Constriction in his pupils

suggests he had opiates in his blood,

but beyond that I see no outward indicators.

Sir, the opium.

Now, apparently it all comes from the same batch,

but it was from this exact container

that Mr. Sutton filled this exact pipe.

Thank you, George. Check the pipe for fingermarks.

And I'll take the opium.

Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me.

So, what do you think, sir? Death by misadventure?

Then why is he the only one?

What does Dr. Ogden have to say?

She's still conducting the postmortem,

but I expect it will be a case of excessive intake.

It takes a real effort to die smoking opium, Murdoch.

It's more the stopping it that will kill you.

I knew plenty of opium fiends during my time in Afghanistan,

and this little China club seems more like playacting to me.

I need to talk to a detective.

Must be Mr. Sutton's father.

My greatest fear has been realized.

I knew that Professor Lawrence would lead to my boy's ruin.

The man is a charlatan, a Svengali,

using opium to draw a veil of control

over the impressionable young.

You believe that Lawrence was attempting

to control your son somehow?

Yes.

But the more I protested,

the stronger his hold over Byron became.

And with Byron's constitution as frail as it was...

Your son was ill?

He suffered from bouts of pleurisy, and...

He was always a fragile boy.

He was supposed to become a doctor

and follow in my footsteps.

Dr. Sutton, perhaps you wish to continue another time?

I wish only to see that professor

punished for his crimes.

Crimes?

Not only was he turning Byron against Occidental medicine,

but that foreign wife of his was feeding Byron

all manner of poisonous concoctions.

You believe your son was poisoned.

Those Asiatic types show no restraint

in what they'll turn into miracle cures.

Parts of animals not even the basest tribes

of Africa would eat.

Herbs so toxic even touching their leaves would kill you.

Your son's cause of death is as yet undetermined.

Knowing that professor, that's what killed him.

Mark my words.

Mr. Sutton died of respiratory arrest,

not a result of smoking opium.

In fact, there was very little residue in his lung tissue,

suggesting he smoked infrequently.

Mr. Sutton's father said he had pleurisy.

Could that have been a factor?

Miss James?

Pleurisy is an inflammation of the muscle tissue

surrounding the lungs.

It's painful, but it's not fatal.

Very good.

I'm surprised he didn't smoke more.

Opium may have eased his pain.

It apparently wasn't smoked for pain relief,

but rather as a philosophical exercise.

Indeed? It's an intriguing concept.

The opium Mr. Sutton smoked was unadulterated,

but we did find traces of herbs in his stomach.

We have yet to analyze them, but I suspect the herbs

may have contributed to his respiratory arrest.

- You believe he was poisoned? - It's my best guess.

My herbs killed Byron?

No. Impossible.

We'll need to sample the concoction.

Of course.

It's a simple assembly.

To help his lungs.

Byron was in pain. My husband worried for him.

Byron was all he cared about.

Perhaps you might divulge the ingredients?

Well, I may not know all the English names correct,

but it includes ma huang... You call it sea grape...

Aconite, peppermint, and ginseng.

Aconite. As in wolfsbane?

That's a very dangerous and very toxic plant.

Yes! The plant, yes, very dangerous.

Not my preparation of it.

I am trained.

I make the powder myself with great care.

It is safe in small quantities.

That's really not necessary.

I am perfectly fine.

I am certain my herbs are not at fault.

She gave him wolfsbane? That she herself prepared?

The woman is very brave.

Or very well trained in her craft.

Wolfsbane would fit,

given that Mr. Sutton died of respiratory arrest.

As would a number of poisons.

What are the symptoms of wolfsbane?

Pins and needles, muscle paralysis, and seizures.

By all accounts, Mr. Sutton didn't experience seizures

or any other kinds of distress.

So, not wolfsbane.

That would have been too easy.

There are a great number of poisons to consider.

We need to narrow our field of search.

How would you propose we begin?

What if we could discern the method of delivery?

It may at least help us determine

whether the poison was slow or fast-acting.

Good.

If the poison was cumulative,

we would have seen damage to the organs and tissues,

which we did not.

May we assume that the poison was administered

within a day of his death?

Right, then.

I believe I've been able to ascertain

all of Mr. Sutton's movements

in the 24 hours prior to his death.

Starting the evening prior, he ate at home with his father.

Roast beef.

I've been able to procure some remnants.

I apologize for the smell. It's already been disposed of.

We are rather accustomed to the aroma of decay, Constable.

Yes, of course you are.

Mr. Sutton then slept fitfully.

He had several coughing fits through the night

which woke his father.

In the morning, he declined breakfast,

having only tea.

I don't have a sample, but I did find the teapot.

That should do.

He then attended classes

and lunched with Professor Lawrence

in the faculty lounge.

He then continued on to Professor Lawrence's home

and dined with the other students...

...and they continued to smoke opium...

...from this pipe.

Thank you, George. That was rather comprehensive.

It truly is a work of art.

Doctor, if I may.

Besides the roast beef he had with his father,

which was well before he died,

Mr. Sutton only ate in large groups.

I would be very surprised if you find food to be the culprit.

Yet there were no injection marks on the body.

So if it was poison, it had to be ingested.

Dr. Ogden, what if the poison was ingested

through what he smoked?

But you yourself tested the opium, Rebecca.

You found no impurities.

Not in the opium, no.

But what about this?

It was the pipe, William.

More specifically, the bowl attached to the pipe.

The opium is placed inside the bowl,

which is attached to the pipe by an airtight seal.

The bowl is held over a flame, and when the smoker inhales,

the opium is vaporized.

I suspect the bowl was treated with the poison,

which then vaporized along with the opium.

How did you come to that conclusion?

Airtight container through which we re-created the process

of smoking the pipe.

And the noble sacrifice of a rat.

Miss James has yet to harden herself

to the realities of lab work.

It's rather ingenious.

And it would also explain why Mr. Sutton

was the only one affected.

We've yet to isolate the poison itself,

but my official report will state

that Byron Sutton was the unfortunate victim of homicide.

So the question becomes, who wanted Mr. Sutton dead?

Murdered?

What are you talking about?

We now know that the pipe that Mr. Sutton smoked

had been poisoned.

His pipe?

No, it was brand-new.

It had never been smoked before last night.

Byron bought the pipe, the bowl.

The entire layout was custom-made in China.

It arrived a few days ago,

and Byron brought it directly here.

Who had access to the pipe?

I did, of course. My wife.

Byron, naturally.

Susan was here with her brother, Matthew.

Gregory is here almost every day.

I-I can't provide deniability for anyone.

Even myself.

Is your wife home?

No. Why?

I understand she has a knowledge of poisons.

As did the rest.

Ling gave them a lecture

on poisons used in Chinese medicine only two weeks ago.

- Was everyone in attendance? - Yes.

In fact, I recall Gregory asking a great number of questions.

Gregory Cummings.

He and Byron were both interested

in studying Chinese medicine,

though Gregory was by far the better student.

I suppose it was only natural for him to be surprised

when I awarded the scholarship to Byron.

What scholarship?

Wherein a bright student accompanies me

to further his studies in China.

If Mr. Cummings is the better student,

then why award the scholarship to Mr. Sutton?

Byron and my wife were friendly,

and she and Gregory were the opposite.

And it's important that we all get along

for such a long journey.

I take it Mr. Cummings was unhappy with your decision?

Very.

Mr. Cummings?

A moment of your time?

Detective Murdoch. I'm on my way to class.

You seem to be coping with the passing of a fellow student

quite admirably.

We weren't friends, Detective,

if that's what you're asking.

Yes, I understand you were quite upset at losing out

on Professor Lawrence's scholarship.

Byron was always the golden student.

A bit of a dolt, really,

but somehow managed to dazzle everyone,

playing the noble invalid.

I admit to some jealousy.

Though nothing compared to Susan's.

Susan Trent?

Yes, she and Byron were sweethearts for quite some time.

She thought he was going to propose

when he ended their courtship.

She even went so far as to curse him dead.

When was this?

During one of Mrs. Lawrence's lectures on poisons.

Rather apropos, wouldn't you say?

Yes, Detective.

He broke my heart.

I've no doubt you heard that from vile Gregory.

But I follow the Tao, the way.

Violence is not in my nature

nor on my path to enlightenment.

You smoke opium, Miss Trent?

Hm, la fée brune is a true delight.

A way of seeing the universe clearly.

Life is dull. Life on opium is dazzling.

So you understand the workings of an opium pipe

and would be able to poison one.

Is that how Byron died?

From his pipe?

How wonderful!

I should like to die from a breath of the brown fairy.

I hear from Byron now and again.

- Do you? - He sent me a message.

"We will meet again when the time is right."

Oh, bother.

Sir.

Mr. Trent! The detective is occupied right now.

That, Constable, is my sister.

And this, Mr. Trent, is a police station.

Now, you are welcome to wait.

Mr. Trent, your sister has asked for a moment

to gather her strength.

More like her courage.

She knows I'm about to give her what for...

Staying out all hours,

quoting that ridiculous Professor Lawrence as gospel.

But you are a disciple

of Professor Lawrence's, are you not?

I only joined that group to keep an eye on Susan.

She's changed so much

since she started going with that Byron Sutton.

He dragged her to the Emperor's club.

I was certain there was going to be

more than just Chinese philosophy, and I was right.

You mean the opium.

We are from a respectable family.

It's one thing for the Chinese to engage in such a vice,

quite another for our people.

What do you know about opium pipes?

Nothing. I've never smoked the infernal stuff.

You were there

in Professor Lawrence's opium den.

I don't inhale.

I would never lower myself to that level of iniquity.

That damned Byron Sutton. This is all his own fault.

- Matthew. - Come now, Susan.

We should get you home.

That appears to be as much as I can salvage.

Then we'll have to be very selective

with the poisons we choose to test.

All of these poisons result in respiratory arrest.

But we know the culprit is not an inorganic poison

because that would have resulted in evidence in the body.

The general test for alkaloids was positive.

Opium is an alkaloid, which could explain that result.

But given the lack of other symptoms in the body,

we can assume the poison is an alkaloid as well.

So we're looking for a plant?

At least to start, yes.

Mr. Sutton died between the time he lit that pipe

and when he was discovered one hour later, dead.

Then it's extremely fast-acting.

He also didn't seize, so we can eliminate strychnine.

- Hemlock is still an option. - Belladonna?

His pupils were constricted rather than dilated.

But don't opiates constrict pupils?

Yes.

It is possible that one could mask the other.

Let's leave it on the list.

Not cyanide either.

All in a day's work, Miss James.

Pathology requires patience.

We're out of plants that cause respiratory paralysis,

and our poisoned opium residue is almost gone.

Perhaps our alkaloid positive

was a result of the opium after all.

We haven't considered poisons from an animal source.

Don't they use animals in Chinese medicine all the time?

They do, and I know little of their toxicity.

Perhaps an afternoon excursion is in order.

Yes, I sell many animal parts,

but not to kill.

I know it's not your intention to kill anyone.

But you must know of a substance that could be fatal.

Yes.

Many plants, puffer fish.

Puffer fish?

The flesh is only safe if removed properly.

What if it isn't removed properly?

Then you stop breathing. Almost right away.

Puffer fish. That could be our poison.

Gregory Cummings was angry at Byron Sutton

for winning the China trip over him.

Angry enough to kill over?

Sir, you haven't met Mr. Cummings.

Susan Trent was heartbroken.

Her brother, Matthew Trent, blamed the victim

for ruining his sister.

Also a motive. What about the Chinese wife?

Ling Lawrence had a knowledge of poisons,

certainly had opportunity,

and she seemed unhappy that her husband

was showing affection toward the deceased.

So everyone with the opportunity to poison Sutton's pipe

also had a motive, with one notable exception.

Professor Lawrence.

Well, that eliminates one suspect.

George, were you able to extract fingermarks

from the pipe itself?

Sir, several, in fact.

Right, then, we'll need to obtain fingermarks

from all of the suspects.

Perhaps we can place the pipe in someone else's hands.

Sir.

Inspector. Detective.

Dr. Sutton, how may we help you?

Am I to conclude

the professor is not a suspect in your investigation?

We are pursuing all avenues at the moment.

There is only one avenue.

Professor Lawrence murdered my boy.

I know it.

I'm afraid your certainty isn't quite enough, Dr. Sutton.

This letter arrived for Byron today.

I thought you might want to see it.

It's written in Chinese.

Sir, I have a translation.

"My dear Golden Dragon.

I fear for your safety.

The Earth Dragon asks your Water Goat questions.

I cannot answer truthfully, or our love will be exposed.

Soon we will meet by the poppy field

and spend all our days in sweet embrace

among the fragrant blossoms."

And the rest, sir, is of a rather intimate nature.

That will suffice, George. Thank you.

Well, then, we can assume

that the Golden Dragon is Byron Sutton,

given the letter was addressed to him.

Sir, Mr. Sutton is a Golden Dragon.

That's his Chinese astrological sign.

How did you come to that conclusion?

The translator told me, sir.

I then took all the other astrological signs

and checked them against the birth years of our suspects.

Are you are able to identify

other people mentioned in the letter?

I was, sir.

The Earth Dragon is Professor Lawrence.

And the letter writer... The Water Goat?

We have two Water Goats, sir.

One is Susan Trent.

- And the other? - Ling Lawrence.

Yes. This is my letter.

You were having an illicit affair with Byron Sutton.

Byron and I were in love for many months.

I persuaded my husband to give Byron the scholarship.

So you could escape with him to China.

It was all planned.

We would leave Aldous in Shanghai

and buy some land up the Yangtze.

But your husband found out.

It must be so.

My husband killed Byron.

He is dead because of me.

My wife carrying on with my favorite student.

I feel like such a fool.

You had no inkling that there was something between them?

Only friendship.

She never wrote such intimacies to me.

George.

Sir, I can't find anything connecting him to the crime,

but I've yet to check this locked cabinet.

Professor, do you have the key to this cabinet?

Of course.

But you're only going to find my personal papers.

And what might this be?

Puffer fish?

What is that doing in there?

At the moment, it's proving your guilt.

Professor Lawrence, you are under arrest

for the murder of Byron Sutton.

Nary a smudge, sir.

That's unfortunate.

Sir, why would Professor Lawrence

wipe his fingermarks off a bottle of poison

only to put it in his own personal cabinet?

A rather troubling detail.

Why not just put it back in his wife's medicine cabinet?

I'd very much like to test the contents.

By all means.

This bottle doesn't contain tetraodon.

- But it's labeled puffer fish. - Which it is.

A benign powder made from the flesh.

Then the tetraodon must have come from somewhere else.

Or our conclusions are incorrect.

I'm afraid Miss James and I were wrong.

The poison that killed Byron Sutton

was not from the puffer fish.

Was not? You're quite certain?

Without a doubt.

But we have yet to discover the true culprit.

Right, then. George, release Professor Lawrence.

Sir, I will.

Sir, doesn't it seem rather convenient

that we found exactly what we were looking for

in Lawrence's cabinet?

I agree, George.

Someone is trying to lay blame on Professor Lawrence.

But who could have known?

I mean, who could have known

that we were looking specifically for puffer fish,

of all things?

Right.

All of the suspects

were standing right here being fingermarked.

Any one of them could have planted that bottle.

Who would have wanted Byron Sutton killed

and Professor Lawrence blamed?

I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Detective.

With Byron Sutton dead

and Professor Lawrence implicated in his murder,

you would be able to shake your sister loose of their influence.

Influence is only effective if it is desired, Detective.

If anything, since Byron's death

her love of all things Chinese has only deepened.

She spends all her time in Chinatown

now that the professor's society has gone on indefinite hiatus.

A failed plan does not negate the plan itself.

I wouldn't know puffer fish powder from talcum powder.

How would I even know which bottle

was the right one to choose?

It's written on the label.

Yes, in Chinese, Detective, which I do not speak.

Which that cretin Gregory has never failed to point out.

Gregory Cummings?

Oh, yes. Student of the year.

Although his dreams of that China scholarship

are now as dead as Byron.

You can read and write Chinese, I presume.

Of course.

I'm also fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese

and some of the lesser-known dialects.

Mark my words... China is the future.

So you admit to knowing the contents of this bottle.

Of course. Puffer fish.

Did you have occasion to visit the professor

after giving us your fingermarks?

Yes.

To place this bottle in his private cabinet,

thus blaming him for the murder of Byron Sutton?

Of course not!

I would never. I swear.

But Susan might.

She was with the Emperor yesterday.

I saw her myself.

Miss Trent, why did you visit.

Professor Lawrence's home yesterday?

The brown fairy won't visit me anymore.

Sir, she's been going on about the brown fairy

since I picked her up.

She brings me messages.

Did you place this bottle in Professor Lawrence's cabinet?

The Emperor won't let me see her.

Miss Trent, did you murder Byron Sutton

and frame Professor Lawrence for his murder?

Byron and I have a secret.

What's that?

The blossoms will bloom,

and we will meet in their sweet fragrance.

He will wait for me.

My God.

Sir, she could barely walk.

I essentially had to carry her here.

And I couldn't get a coherent word out of her the whole time.

I wonder if we should call a doctor, sir?

I daresay we should.

Uh, Detective, you are a Water Pig.

- Did you know that? - No, George, I did not.

No, sir, a Water Pig has a keen sense of observation,

is calm, a good negotiator.

Those all sound quite accurate.

It also says you have a tendency to indulge in excess of vices

in the way of alcohol, rich foods,

and expensive luxuries.

I suppose it's not an exact science.

Oh, Dr. Ogden, what year were you born?

A rather probing question to ask a lady, Constable.

Oh, I meant no harm, Doctor.

I'm just reading into this Chinese astrology.

But I suppose there are some other more work-related issues

that demand my attention.

Well, Miss Trent isn't suffering from any psychological malady,

except perhaps mild delusion.

Anything else?

She is intoxicated, roaringly.

It's the opiates, most likely.

Miss Trent seems to think that Mr. Sutton

will be waiting for her amongst the blossoms.

Sounds like a romantic fantasy.

Yes, except there was a similar such reference

to fragrant blossoms in the letter

that the professor's wife wrote to Mr. Sutton.

It could be the sort of amorous allusion

Mr. Sutton was fond of making to his lady friends?

Julia, Miss Trent claims

she has heard from Mr. Sutton since his passing.

Could she be hallucinating?

In my acquaintance with smoking opium,

hallucinations are not part of the experience.

And you say the senses are not dulled?

Rather enhanced.

Instead of a dormant brain,

I feel broadened perspectives, deeper thoughts,

a heightened sense that all things are possible.

- Pipe dreams, you mean. - Hence the term.

Epiphanies are common.

It's a release of mental inhibition.

Then, the sensation allows the smoker

to experience reality differently?

Yes.

And no. Uh...

Opium when smoked, it's an almost ethereal experience.

I could no more describe it to you

than I could describe a rainbow to a blind man.

I see.

Perhaps I can help you in a different way.

I can offer you the opportunity

to experience opium for yourself,

safely and purely.

Oh, I-I don't think...

Please, I urge you to do whatever you must

to find Byron's Killer.

It may open your mind

to a path you had previously not seen.

A scientific experiment?

Well?

I don't know.

I do feel relaxed.

Calm.

Content.

My nose is itchy.

Mine too!

I feel the most delicious tingling in my body,

like all of my senses are on fire.

I understand now how opium awakens an appetite.

I'm not hungry in the slightest.

Of a more carnal nature.

Julia, we are not alone.

I see no one.

No one but you.

William.

Look at this dragon.

It's as though it could breathe fire at any moment.

You're seeing the red of the dragon's mouth

and interpreting it as fire.

William, I'm aware that I'm looking at a tapestry

and not an actual dragon.

You might find this experience more beneficial

if you ceased to analyze it and just embrace it.

Did you know, Julia, that in ancient China,

only emperors were allowed to depict five-clawed dragons?

Anyone found in possession of such things was put to death.

Then I suppose Byron Sutton was willing to invoke the wrath of.

Of the ancients.

How so?

His pipe has an engraving of a dragon with five claws on it.

Remarkably, it's just like this one.

Even my students wouldn't dare to possess a five-clawed dragon.

Julia.

Byron Sutton didn't custom-order that opium pipe for himself.

He bought it for Professor Lawrence, his emperor.

So Byron Sutton wasn't meant to die that night.

Professor Lawrence was.

We believe the pipe that killed Mr. Sutton

was meant to be a gift for you.

For me?

Oh, my God.

I thought Byron was just showing me his new pipe.

He was trying to give it to me.

Did you not see the five-clawed dragon depicted?

I didn't even look at it.

I was on my way out. I barely let him speak.

I insisted that Byron christen his new pipe

at our next session.

Byron put it away in the cupboard and...

Who would have done this, Detective?

I didn't know Byron bought the pipe for my husband.

He didn't tell me.

Mrs. Lawrence, you must realize that all of the evidence

points directly to you.

Did you not consider my husband is lying about the pipe?

He is the one who was hiding the puffer fish

in his personal cabinet.

The poison that killed Byron Sutton

was not from the puffer fish.

Of course it was! Why else would he be hiding it?

He wasn't hiding it. It was put there. By you.

You saw it written on my chalkboard.

You hoped your husband would pay for the crime

and you would be free.

I hoped he would pay, yes,

but because I thought him guilty.

You must believe me.

If I had poisoned that pipe,

I would never have let Byron smoke it.

Perhaps we should revisit our earlier assumptions.

We believed the poison was an alkaloid

because that was our only positive test result.

I suppose we could try some of the plants we didn't test.

I know it seems like a waste of time,

but it may be worth our while.

I can't believe you smoked opium.

Ah! Well, all in the name of science.

I've taken laudanum once, when I broke my leg.

It eased the pain,

but I didn't care for how dull it made my mind feel.

That's what's extraordinary.

Opium when smoked is more of a stimulant than a depressant.

How did it feel?

Well, first I felt a tingling in my extremities,

and then it spread to my whole body.

Did you say tingling? Like pins and needles?

Yes, just like that.

What if what you said originally was true,

that the opium counteracted the effects of the poison?

Not counteracted. Masked.

Here it is...

"Pins and needles, muscle paralysis,

and sometimes seizures."

What if when Mr. Sutton felt the pins and needles,

he attributed it to the opium?

Making him unaware of the warning signs.

It was the very first poison we considered.

Aconite!

Byron Sutton's killer was simple wolfsbane.

Do you sell wolfsbane?

- Wolfsbane? - Aconite.

Ah, Fu Zi!

Much of it, yes. Very good for pain.

Have you ever sold it in its raw plant form?

Yes, some. To Mrs. Lawrence.

Anyone else?

Yes. White man.

Nervous.

He knew the Chinese name, Fu Zi.

Otherwise, I would not sell it. Very dangerous.

Do you recall his name?

He was here before. He paid for a translation.

- I will check my ledger. - Thank you.

Is Byron here?

Byron Sutton is dead, Miss Trent.

No. He sent me a message.

The brown fairy read it to me.

We will meet in the poppy fields,

the blossoms so fragrant.

The Earth Dragon might want to keep us apart,

but I am his Water Goat and he is my Golden Dragon.

Soon we will meet by the poppy field

and spend all our days in sweet embrace

among the fragrant blossoms.

This letter arrived for Byron today.

I thought you might want to see it.

A package arrived to your home from China.

Your son must have told you that it contained a gift

for Professor Lawrence.

He spent his money... Our family's money...

On an opium pipe for that man.

You poisoned the bowl of the opium pipe.

You couldn't have known

that Professor Lawrence would refuse the gift

and that your son Byron would be the first to smoke it.

So you brought us the letter

detailing your son's affair with Mrs. Lawrence.

You knew it would point us to the professor.

Professor Lawrence killed my son...

With his dragons and opium

and that Chinese siren of a wife.

I'm afraid that isn't true, Dr. Sutton.

My Byron was under a spell.

I had to break that spell.

I had no choice.

He was gonna leave me.

You killed your own son.

You foolish man.

That professor is to blame.

He's the one you should put behind bars.

Do you hear me, man? It was Lawrence.

He was supposed to smoke that damn pipe.

Dr. Sutton, you are under arrest for the murder of Byron Sutton.

It was Lawrence.

It was his fault. It's not mine.

Not mine.

Despite the darker side of opium,

I'll admit I enjoyed our little experiment.

Yes. Not one that I would care to repeat.

No? Not even the sensation it invoked?

I prefer not to alter my reality.

And why is that?

Because nothing could make my reality

any better than it already is.