All language subtitles for Miss-Fisher-&-the-Crypt-of-Tears_English-ELSUBTITLE.COM-49999950

Which way did she go?

Down there!

Down there. Go.

Hey!
Hey!

Hey!

Hey!
Hey!

Miss Phryne Fisher.

You know,
I do have a front door.

Just thought I'd drop in.

Hm.

One laddered stocking.

Not bad,
considering I had to elude

the entire Palestinian
police force to pay you a visit.

And what the devil brings you
back here to Jerusalem, hmm?

I'm looking for
a missing person.

Oh, damn you.

Still the lady detective.

I had rather hoped you'd come
to pick up the tiny pieces

of my broken heart.

Still beating as far
as I can tell, Professor.

I'm looking for a young woman
called Shirin Abbas.

Apparently, she's in some kind
of trouble with the authorities.

Never heard of her.

I'm sure that your hearing is
just as healthy as your heart.

I trust you don't think
you can just come in here

and milk me for information
with your wit and your charm

and your... Canaanite scarab.

From Jericho.
A little gift I found for you.

- To butter me up?
- Like a crumpet.

Mm.

It's real.

I heard a rumor

Miss Abbas was dispensing
anti-British propaganda...

Professor Linnaeus!
This is the police!

They locked her up, poor girl.

You have no right
to force your way in here!

We have orders from Sir Montague

to bring in your guest
for questioning.

This is preposterous.
What for?

Inciting unrest
and inflammatory behavior.

Oh, good heavens, man.
That's what she always does.

We're in the middle
of something very important.

But since you ask
so charmingly...

Miss Fisher's gun, Sir Montague.

According to your arrival
documentation, Miss Fisher,

your reason for travel was...

Sightseeing.

The dome of Qubbat as-Sakhra
at sunset

is one of the most
sublime spectacles in the world.

Then how do you explain
your other activities?

Trespassing
on administrative offices

to steal official documents,

dancing in the streets
after 9:00 p.m.

in open defiance
of the military curfew,

or blatantly associating
with undesirables

of the Black Hand organization.

Well, actually, I was dancing
with the undesirables,

and I found several of them
to be quite desirable.

I know exactly why you're here,
Miss Fisher.

To find Shirin Abbas.

Her uncle, Sheikh Kahlil,
is a business associate

of my friend Lord Lofthouse.

Lofty helped overthrow
the Ottomans during the war.

From what I saw,
Lofty and his cohorts

did most of their overthrowing
from the officers' lounge.

Hm.
So you know him?

Tell my old friend Sheikh Kahlil
we'll do everything possible

to help him find his niece.

But if she is a serious
agitator, it may be too late.

She's a young woman
with a voice.

And you're a troublemaker,
Miss Fisher.

You may have acquired
the trappings of British wealth,

but you were born in Australia,

the filthiest gutter
of the realm.

And I intend to send you
back there.

Come in.

Miss Fisher's luggage, sir.

Her train departs at 1600 hours.

Watch her.

Yes, watch very closely

while you tell me where
you're keeping Shirin Abbas.

The gun isn't loaded,
Miss Fisher.

Count your bullets.

Yes, my suspicions were correct.

Miss Fisher won't be causing us
any more trouble.

Where the bloody hell
has she gone?

Shirin Abbas?

Who are you?

My name is Phryne Fisher.
Your uncle sent me to fetch you.

Someone's coming.

Come on, gorgeous.
You know you want it.

Come on.

Come on. That's it.

Ooh.

Come on.

One more big step.

The bars.

Quickly.

I can't leave Palestine.

My family were murdered,
and I want justice.

Murdered?

No one believes me,
but I know what I saw.

Shirin, you won't get justice
if they hang you.

Come on.

This is your only chance.

Go!

Excuse us!

Oh!

- Are you all right?
- Yes.

I'll get you a new one.

Quick, Shirin!

Listen.

Right on schedule.

- Get ready.
- What?

Go!

Good!
Let's go!

Follow me!

We'll have to get down!

No! No!
I can't do it!

Shirin, getting out of here
is your only hope for justice!

I will help you!
I promise!

We'll find out
who murdered your family!

I've got you!

That's it.

Hold tight.

Hurry, Shirin!

Go!

Miss Fisher!

Dottie, what is it?
What's wrong?

It's Miss Fisher.

Sir.

There, there.
It's all right.

Our condolences, Inspector.

There's a memorial service
in London in six weeks' time.

- I need to be there.
- It's too far.

- Go on.
- No. I have to, Hugh.

Miss Fisher saved me
from the streets.

And from illegal abortionists
and Latvian anarchists

and factory machines
and Christmas murderers.

And if it wasn't for her...
I never would've met you.

Dottie, I'm sorry,
but you can't.

Not in your state.

The baby.

She'll never meet the baby.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh, poor Inspector Robinson.

When she went away,
she broke his heart.

Inspector Robinson.

I'm so pleased
you could make it.

We wanted an intimate affair

before all the palaver
of Westminster.

You meant so much to Phryne.

Lady Lofthouse and I
remember Phryne

as I'm sure you all do.

As an unpredictable whirlwind
of a woman

who never failed to brighten
our lives.

And now, along with teaching me
how to ride a motorcycle

as well as helping my younger
brother Jonathon

learn how to dance
the Black Bottom...

...Miss Fisher has taught us all
that life is but fleeting.

And so, dearest Phryne,

we will honor you now
by living our lives

as richly and as fearlessly
as you once did.

I knew her luck would run out
one day.

She would never listen.

The honorable Miss Phryne...

...Fisher...

What on earth is...

What's that?

Relocate the... the...

- Is that a "T"?
- Here.

The tea trolley?

Move the tea trolley!

I hope you wanted
the cypresses pruned!

Phryne!

My dear girl!

We knew it would take more than
a steam train to finish you off!

Oh!

- Lofty.
- Oh.

Jonathon.

My God!

Do you know what a fuss
you've caused?

We've been beside ourselves!

And you nearly murdered me
with that spanner!

Darling Aunt P.

I would've planned your murder
much better than that.

Oh, you impossible,
impossible girl!

Miss Fisher,
we thought you were a ghost.

No, Shirin.

Despite the mandated
authorities' best efforts.

Hamdellah al-salama,
Miss Fisher.

I'm so humbly grateful to you

for returning my niece
to my care

and overjoyed
by your safe return.

Thank you, Sheikh Kahlil.

Jack.

What are you doing here?

I came to pay my respects...
at your memorial service.

The newspapers reported
you were dead.

Mm.

Oh.

Crippins, just forget the tea!

Let's crack open the champagne!

Eleanor.

Uh, Jack knows.

Knows what?

About the maharaja.

Is that a new hat?

Is that all you've got to say
to me?

Do you have any idea
what it was like for me...

reading that you'd died
a horrible death

in a foreign country?

Why are you so angry?

I wrote a eulogy for you.

My apologies
for the wasted effort.

Oh, don't worry.
It won't be wasted.

I'll save it
for the appropriate day.

Wait!

What are you gonna do now
that you've come all this way,

only to have me disappoint you?

I only had one plan.

To farewell you.

Farewell.

Farewell?

Wait!
What did it say?

What did what say?

My eulogy.

It said I'm done with you.

Phryne!

No one should look so divine
after what you've been through.

Oh, darling.

Except Phryne always looks
divine.

I hear you had a rendezvous
in Jerusalem

with Sir Vincent Montague.

Ugh. Yes.

Lofty's very fond of him.

Uh, Monty and I were just
drinking chums in Palestine.

- That's all.
- Pleasant company.

I wouldn't call it a rendezvous.

Is it just me

or is Lord Lofthouse giving us
a disapproving look?

Oh, it's not us.

It's me
he always disapproved of.

Stand somewhere else.

But at least you were your
beautiful mother's favorite.

Sheikh Kahlil, Shirin,
do come in.

Phryne, has Aunt Prudence
told you we're hosting a ball

in Shirin's honor?

Oh, excellent.

Back from the grave
just in time.

Sheikh Kahlil
has important business here

with Lofty,
so I've agreed to sponsor Shirin

for her debut
in civilized society.

What did you use
on the poor girl, thumbscrews?

Phryne!

Oh, I'm sure some pressure
was exerted.

We do have some civilization
in Palestine,

you know, Mrs. Stanley.

But given the choice
between attending a ball

or going back to jail

to be hanged
for asking too many questions...

Jail?

Who's going to be hanged?

My niece
is exaggerating, Mrs. Stanley.

And it is all unimportant now
that you're back safe with us.

Yeah. Shirin needs to
forget all that unpleasantness.

But she is right
about one thing, dear Prudence.

The Near East is the cradle
of Western civilization.

Ah.
How I miss my travels there.

Those velvety,
star-filled nights

from my rooftop in Jerusalem.

- Pity about the war.
- Yes.

Well, it's not my fault
Father couldn't prevent you

from ending up
on the front line, Jonathon.

While you were draining the bar
in the officers' mess?

Let's not dwell on the past,
shall we?

Perhaps another round
of cribbage?

Forget cribbage!

I believe you owe me a rematch,
Phryne.

Shirin said
she couldn't leave Palestine

because she needed to find out
what happened to her village.

We heard there was nothing left
of it,

that it had been completely
buried under a giant sandstorm.

Yes.
She was the only survivor, too.

Poor lamb.
Must've been terrifying for her.

Then Shirin turned up at British
headquarters a few days later,

and the Army delivered her
to the sheikh.

Yes, and he's been indebted
to the British ever since.

Which, may I say,
has proven most convenient!

Aah!
Bastard!

Sir.

Allow me.

Prêt?
Allez!

Aha!

If Shirin's village
was destroyed by a sandstorm,

why does she think
they were murdered?

Massacred is what she implied.

I have no idea.

The high commission thoroughly
investigated the matter

at the time.

They found nothing.

Aah!

Ha!

Aah!

Allez!

Bravo, Phryne.

You always were
my greatest defender.

She has no respect
for the rules.

That's because they tend
to be written by men.

Crippins!
More wine, please.

This came for me.
I don't know what to do.

Who is Mu'aqqib?

My guardian angel.
He saved me from the storm.

He left no name,

but I believed he was sent
by Allah to walk with me.

He led me to Jerusalem.

"Time is running out
to put things right.

There is but one chance."

He wants to meet tonight.

At All Saints Church.

But I-I can't tell my uncle.

This seal has been steamed open.

Who would do that?

I'm not sure.

And he says tell no one.
I have to meet with him.

No, Shirin.

I made a promise to you
that I would help you.

I will go in your stead.

Miss Fisher?

Sheikh Kahlil.

I hope my niece is not making
demands of you.

No.

Shirin is still grieving
for everything that she's lost.

Of course.

But you must understand
she was only a child.

She imagines things.

She has false hopes.

The future of our family
lies here, Miss Fisher,

not beneath the sands
of a barren desert.

Will you require anything else

before I retire for the evening,
miss?

Yes. Thank you, Crippins.
The keys to Lofty's motorcar?

Shut up, will you?!
Go to sleep!

Jack?

Jack, are you awake?

No.

I need you...
for a midnight meeting

with a stranger
at All Saints Church in Soho.

How the hell did you find me?

He could be deranged
and dangerous.

That'll make two of you.

You have to come.

Imagine... a secret oasis

somewhere in the vast
Negev Desert,

where a Bedouin tribe
has flourished

for hundreds
and thousands of years.

Until one day...
the entire tribe is murdered.

An apocalyptic sandstorm
descends

to bury all the evidence,

and only a young girl survives
to tell the tale.

Till over a decade later,

when she decides she can no
longer live with the injustice

and is prepared to risk
her own life to find the truth.

But if you're not interested...

Damn it, Jack.

How could you come all this way
to commemorate me

and then refuse to speak to me?

Hello?

I'm a friend of Shirin Abbas.

Where's the girl?

She sent me.

My name is Phryne Fisher.

She told me you were
her guardian angel.

I'm not her angel.
I'm her demon!

Get away!

Please.

Stay back.

I just want to talk with you.

I mean you no harm.

Phryne?

- Who's that?
- Jack.

Stay back.

This is a trap.

No.
It's not. I-I promise you.

Here.
Take this.

Tell Shirin I'm sorry.

Tell her to forgive me.

Why?

We're... We're all cursed.

I lost him.

What's that?

Something we need to keep
from the police.

We?

Police! Put down that weapon!

So, a lady detective
and a senior police officer

just happen to meet up
with each other

12,000 miles away from home

at the scene of a murder
of a complete stranger?

Not unusual in my experience,
sir.

Apart from the distance
involved.

And you expect me to believe

that neither of you had ever
heard of Sergeant Wilson before?

Even though he'd been wanted
by the military police

for over 10 years.

Wanted for what?

Sir, the coroner's report on the
bullet found in the deceased.

Round-nosed Mark 1,
if I'm not mistaken.

From a .303 rifle.

Wilson was wanted for desertion.

Farrier Sergeant
George Hercules Wilson

in the company of Captain
Harry Gardiner Templeton

walked off from London Regiment
north of Jerusalem,

9th of April 1918.

Harry Templeton.

I thought you had no interest
in Wilson.

Oh, just naturally curious.

Hm.

Neither of you
are leaving London

until this case is solved.

My passage back to Australia
is booked for two days' time.

I'll have to forfeit my ticket.

Oh.
What a shame.

Crippins.

Lady Lofthouse sent me
to fetch the motorcar, miss.

The, uh, police said
it was impounded.

Yes. Please pass on
my apologies to Eleanor.

Tell her I'll make
my own way home.

Jack?
Wait.

You have no authority, Forsythe.

Sir Montague.

You're a long way
from Jerusalem.

That woman has more lives
than an alley cat.

I have critical negotiations
under way in London,

and her interfering

could completely sabotage
British-Palestinian relations!

What does she know about Wilson?

Daily Express!

Get your Daily Express here!
Daily Express!

Daily Express, love?

Jack, where are you going?

Back to my guesthouse.

Well, you're heading
in the wrong direction.

- I don't care!
- All right.

Is all this because I married
the maharaja?

You said you weren't
the marrying kind.

- And I'm not.
- And I respected that.

So why don't you respect
that I had other reasons

for marrying
the Maharaja of Alwar?

What kind of blind faith
is that?

The kind that I thought we had.

You can't stop me doing
what I need to do.

The maharaja needed my help
at the time,

just as Shirin does now.

I'm sorry, but I'm not sure
that one lifetime

will be enough for you to save
the whole world.

Well, I'm sorry, too,
if that's the case.

And I'm very sorry
that I'm not dead!

You know the quickest way
to escape me?

Tie you up,
dump you in that river?

Or you could help me
with this case.

Look at the stone.

It could be glass.

No. It's far more precious
than that.

Look in the light.

See how the reflections flash
pure green?

And it's cool to the touch.

Can you feel that?

No.

No.
No.

No.

You know,
I haven't forgiven you.

Really?
Mind your step.

Ugh.

What kind of professor
did you say he was?

The kind that you need to
be nice to.

An old friend.

Another one?

He was kicked out of Jerusalem
because of me.

"Cultural liberation
and repatriation

of ancient looted artefacts."

You bring me
the loveliest things...

apart from yourself, of course.

Looks like the British Museum

can kiss their Szechuan
jade bird goodbye.

I ship her off home tomorrow
on a slow boat to Shanghai.

You remember our slow boat,
don't you, Phryne?

Oh, the saturation
in this emerald is...

It's just glorious.

I'd say mined in Egypt.

Well, Wilson served
in the Middle East.

But silver casting
is more Greco-Roman.

Ah. Well, that would explain
the inscription.

- There's an inscription?
- Yes. Here, on the other side.

It's a form of Doric Greek.

Tombus D...

Tombus Dakryon.

"The Crypt of Tears."

- Oh, my dear God.
- What is it?

It's the myth
of Alexander the Great.

I have a transcript
from clay tablets

describing Alexander's
last campaign through Palestine,

where he suffered
a mysterious bereavement.

It's said that he wept so much,

his tears created
a desert spring.

So it's an actual tomb?

That he protected
with a huge emerald

called the All-Seeing Eye...
and a powerful curse.

This pendant means the crypt
has been disturbed.

So... Wilson was a grave robber.

And maybe Harry Templeton,
whom Wilson deserted with.

But don't you see?

If the All-Seeing Eye
is removed,

then the curse is released

and everyone involved in this
is in danger.

You need to take that away.
You need to get rid of it.

No, no, no. We need to
find out more about it.

That transcript...
Do you still have it?

Well, uh, somewhere, but...

Wait here.

You seriously believe
that thing comes from a crypt

that was cursed 2,000 years ago

by a man who thought he was
the son of Zeus?

What about
King Tutankhamen's tomb?

Lord Carnarvon is dead,
along with two of his brothers

and half a dozen others
who helped open it.

There are strange things
in heaven and earth.

Ah!

Hold this.

I'll go check on the professor.

Professor?

Professor?

Professor?

Professor?

Professor?

It's around here somewhere.

Jack?

Jack!

The pendant!

Hey!

Oh!

Stop or I'll shoot!

Who are you?!

Tell me or I'll pull
this trigger!

Oh!
My treasures!

- Phryne!
- Hey!

He just...
He disappeared!

He just evaporated!

He didn't get what he came for.

Oh!
Thank God!

Well, you could thank me.

I put out the fire.

Well done, Professor.

Well done.

Miss Fisher? It's almost 8:00.

Mm.
Good morning, Shirin.

Shirin, do you know if your
uncle was in London last night

by any chance?

I'm not sure.
I know he had an appointment.

Did you meet with Mu'aqqib?

I'm curious, Shirin.

Why was your uncle living
in Jerusalem

and not with you in the village
when it was attacked?

Because he accepted work
from the British.

He was considered a traitor,
and he was banished.

A traitor?

I have something for you.

Where did you get that?

From the man who saved you
from the storm.

Mu'aqqib?

He was a British soldier,
and his name was Wilson.

He wanted you to have it.

This was my mother's.

She said one day
it would be mine.

Shirin... have you ever heard
of the Crypt of Tears?

Mrs. Templeton?

Hello?

Who are you?

My name is Detective Inspector
Jack Robinson.

Please.

The War Office gave me
your address.

I believe Farrier Sergeant
Wilson knew your husband.

I'm sorry to tell you,

but George Wilson died
two nights ago.

That's Lucinda.

Arrived too early.

But a perfect little thing.

I am so sorry.

I blame the war for it all.

Harry went away a good man.

But then they shot him
like a mad dog.

Your husband and Wilson deserted
their regiment on the same day.

Wilson worked for Harry
in the mines before the war.

He sent me a letter.

Wanted to meet with me last
night, but he never turned up.

Said we were in danger,

he and Harry did something
we needed to fix.

This is what Wilson was after.

Sheikh Kahlil?
Are you resting?

"Sale of the British Palestine
Railways."

To Lord Lofthouse
and Sheikh Kahlil.

"Authorized by
Sir Vincent Montague."

Shirin?
I need to speak to you.

At once.

I'd prefer if you keep
our affairs private

from Miss Fisher.

She seems to be
the kind of person

who would see intrigue
everywhere.

But I-I can prove what I saw
with my own eyes.

My mu'aqqib has...

Would you please stop
this nonsense

about your mu'aqqib
and ancient curses?

This is all not real, Shirin!

Darling.

This ball tonight is real.

- Sir.
- Thank you, Crippins.

Madam.

Habibti, your acceptance
in London society

is not just an honor.

It's essential for your safety.

Do you understand that?

I know you mean well.

But look.

Where did you get this?

This belonged to Hajija.
It belonged to your mother.

My mu'aqqib.

He wasn't my guardian angel.

He was a British soldier.

They lied to us, Uncle.

What I saw must be true.

What?

Tell me.
Tell me the whole story again.

It was my job to collect
the honey from the mountains.

My mother said one day
she would tell me its secrets.

Mama?

Mama?

Mama?!

I never found my mother.

And all I wanted
was for the storm to take me.

But Mu'aqqib found me.

Habibti?

Please.
Tell no one else about this.

No one.

I'll get to the bottom of this.

Thank you, Uncle Kahlil.

Habibti.

- Thank you, James.
- Pleasure, Miss Fisher.

Jack.

For me?

Oh, just some old thing
I picked up.

An astrolabe.

For reading the heavens.

Picture of you this evening,
sir?

Oh, lovely.
Yes.

My best side.
Thank you.

- Yes.
- Cheers.

I thought this was
an investigation.

What's dancing got to do
with it?

We need to find out
what this deal is all about.

I'll take Lofty and Monty.
You follow the sheikh.

Sir Lloyd.
Miss Biggin.

The sheikh was about to fund
the entire purchase.

- Now he's refusing to sign.
- Sir.

Well, then find another partner.

Or borrow the money

if the railways
are such a lucrative asset.

But no one in this damn country
will lend me a penny, Eleanor.

- We're up to our necks in debt.
- Shh.

I have guests to attend to.

Eleanor?

I'm fine.

Don't speak.
Just smile and nod.

I'll do my best.

I must believe my niece.

But it's nonsense.

It's been investigated.

I'm sorry, Sir Montague.
I'm very sorry.

Your niece has stirred up
trouble from nothing.

It's not nothing.

I will not sign this contract
until this matter is settled.

I suspect that's a decision

you're going to come to regret,
Kahlil.

It's Sheikh Kahlil.

- Friendly crowd.
- Mm.

Lofty! Family portrait.

- Over here. Come on.
- Oh!

Ah!
My dear Jon.

Brothers-in-arms, eh?
Jolly good!

Perhaps you should slow down
a bit.

Perhaps my wife should be
a little more careful

with her affections.

Having fun, you two?

Sir Montague is a go-between.

He's trying to off-load
Palestinian Railways

for the British administration
and no doubt

make a tidy commission out of it
and earn himself a promotion.

Is this your idea
of sweet nothings?

I thought they were out
of the question.

They are.

Continue.

With the deal still up
in the air,

it's no wonder Monty is
desperate to try and keep a lid

on anything that might erupt
into an all-out war

between the Palestinians
and British rule.

Like a scandal
involving the murder

and looting of a Bedouin tribe?

Exactly.

Well, uh, you seem to be
enjoying my hospitality, Kahlil.

Very much, Lord Lofthouse.
Very much.

- Lofty?
- Yes?

Have you met Kosi Wydrych?

He's just returned
from an American mission

to the Belgian Congo.

Not now, Prudence.

Enchanté, monsieur.

Lofty!

I-I knew I should never
have trusted you, Kahlil.

Lofty.

We had a...
We had a gentlemen's agreement.

I thought we were both men
of honor.

Seems I was mistaken.

There's no need for this,
Lord Lofthouse.

In the end, Kahlil,
you and your people,

you're nothing
but a bunch of barbarians!

Oh! Gosh, Lofty!
The sheikh's your guest!

Pull yourself together,
Lord Lofthouse.

Enough!

What are you all looking at?

I need some air!

Shirin, come upstairs and pack.

Immediately.

I sacrificed everything...

everything for the British
in Palestine.

In good faith.

My mistake.

Uh, everyone... keep dancing.

I can't believe Kahlil
has betrayed me like this.

The bastard!

Miss Fisher.

I've come a long way
to finish our conversation.

Well, I certainly hope my
repartee is worth the journey.

Tomorrow morning at 10:00,

you will appear before me
at Scotland Yard

to explain why you shouldn't be
charged with the crime

of releasing Shirin Abbas

from His Majesty's prison
in Jerusalem.

10:00 a.m. sharp.

Good night, Miss Fisher.

Excuse me, sir.

Your brother thought
you might like coffee,

served in the drawing room.

Tell Jonathon
I'm wretched enough where I am.

Thank you, Crippins.

Dinner and a show.
You've outdone yourself.

It's not over yet.

Miss Fisher!
Quickly!

Sheikh Kahlil?

- I can't see him.
- Get back.

Sheikh Kahlil!

Too late.

- No. No. No!
- No, no, no. Stay back.

Stay back.

Oh, my...

Shirin.
My child.

Come outside.

Jack.

Clear line of sight
to the sheikh's room.

Wherever you go, Miss Fisher,
trouble follows.

I prefer to think of it
as the other way around.

Good evening, Superintendent.

Sir.
German-manufactured.

But Turkish issue, 1896-'97.

Hm.

You seem to be missing a button

from your waistcoat,
Lord Lofthouse,

and it seems at least 100 people
witnessed a heated argument

between yourself
and the deceased.

Well, it was a business meeting.
What do you expect?

Where did you go when you left
the ballroom tonight?

I went outside.

For some air.

That's right.
He was with me.

And when you heard the
gunshot, was he with you then?

Uh, yes.

- I...
- Excuse me, sir.

I think you were in the kitchen
at the time,

asking cook to hurry along
the coffee.

Yes.

That's right.
Yes.

When I looked
through the keyhole,

there was no key in the lock,
but why wouldn't there be

if the sheikh had simply locked
the door?

But if someone had locked
the door from the outside

and posted the key...

The sheikh was shot
in the heart.

But the bloodstain is much
nearer to where his feet were

when we found him.

As if the body
had been spun around

by someone inside the room.

Who threw the gun
out of the window.

Locked the door, posted the key,

and descended
via the service stairs.

I didn't notice that before.

Some religions associate
the eye of the peacock feather

with the eyes of the stars
or the guardians of royalty.

Or...

...the all-seeing-eye of God.

Jack... there's an inscription.

Well, um, take it away.

I'm just an innocent
archaeologist.

I'm not a detective.

I've been kicked out
of Palestine,

I've been set alight,
and now this.

No.

I'm sorry about the fire,
Professor,

but Shirin's uncle
has been murdered.

I can't help you
if you shoot me dead.

No.

But you don't need
your left foot.

"If this treasure is
removed from its sacred place,

may the desert sands rise
and engulf the land

and may all the people of the
inhabited world perish entombed

when day turns to night
seven times."

I also have this, Professor.

An astrolabe.

Take a look at this.

The Star of Argeadi.

Symbol of the Argead dynasty
of Macedon.

The royal lineage
of Alexander the Great.

This must point the way.

Well, to the oasis, at least.

You must hurry back
to the Negev.

End this curse.

End the curse?

That's what you do with curses,
Jack.

Too many people have died
already.

We have to return the emerald
to the crypt

before day turns to night

and Alexander's curse becomes
unstoppable.

Day turns to night.

To night.

Day turns to night seven times.

It has to be a solar eclipse.

How long do we have
to find the crypt, Professor?

How many solar eclipses
have there been since 1918?

Eclipses.

Two, four, six...

Oh, dear.

I wouldn't dawdle if I were you.

Thank you, Professor.

You know I wouldn't
really shoot you.

With you, I can never be sure.

Eleanor, what happened
to Scotland Yard?

Well, they left, but they
refused to listen to reason.

Jonathon, how's Lofty?

Not good
now that he's sobered up.

They haven't charged him yet,

but the police are convinced
he's guilty.

Don't worry.
They'll come to their senses.

Shirin, we leave
in half an hour.

Pack light and wrap up warm.

You're not going to Palestine
without me?

Not after all this.
What if you don't come back?

I only have a two-seater plane.

Well, there's always
Lofty's Tiger Moth.

I haven't flown for a while,

but I could do with a change
of scenery.

We could fly in tandem.

Perfect.

I just hope she doesn't fly
like she drives.

I heard that!

Come in.

Urgent delivery, sir.

If that woman doesn't show,

we'll have a diplomatic disaster
on our hands...

with my reputation on the line.

I'm not sure what I can do
about that.

The railway deal is ruined.

Point the finger at someone.

You said you had the evidence.

Charge Lord Lofthouse
and be done with it.

Lord Lofthouse's
waistcoat button

was already missing
before the sheikh was murdered.

He was framed.

That damned woman.

Yalla. Yalla, Fatima.

She's very well behaved.

Of course.

She is a woman.

She cannot resist me.

Hunting.

Did either of you gentlemen
happen to pay our cameleer

in British pounds?

No.

Why would we?
The job's not done.

Jack.

Game's up, Abdul.

Throw down your sword.

Who gave you this?

Please... spare my life.

I have children.
Wife.

Repeat the question, Jack.

An Englishman.

He sent money, but we never met.

He told me to delay you
until he came.

Sounds like your friend Monty.

Please... keep the money.

You'll never see me.
I give my word.

No.
You can keep the money.

Take your camel and go...
quickly.

You could've told me

that you planned to get rid
of our only guide.

I didn't see the need.

So I should have
blind faith, whatever you do?

Marrying maharajas.

Meeting military deserters
in the middle of the night.

I invited you to that.

Seducing cameleers.

I didn't plan to seduce Abdul.

You're missing the point.

If you let me know what's going
on, then maybe I could help.

Well, maybe I'll be
absolutely fine

without having to explain myself
to you or any other man.

And if I need your help,
I'll ask for it.

I won't hold my breath.

Jack?

Don't worry about it.

I need your help!

It's quicksand!

Keep still!
Grab my hand.

No! Stay back!
You're sinking!

I'm not losing you like this.

Not after all the other stupid
ways I've nearly lost you.

What stupid ways?

Grab this!

Hold on!

The reason that I married
the Maharaja of Alwar

was because his true love
is the Prince of Padna.

And if his bachelorhood had been
confirmed by his enemies,

then not only would he have lost
his throne,

but he would have been stoned
to death.

You saved his life?

Well... I'm not sure how
I could've helped with that one.

But thank you
for the explanation.

What is it?
You see something?

No.
It's nothing.

Just the heat playing tricks.

We have to get there
before the eclipse.

No.
This well was once overflowing.

We used to play here
in the shade.

What's that?

That was the marker
that points to the goat star,

the brightest star
in the night sky.

Look, Jack.

My ancient Greek's not a patch
on the professor's,

but even I recognize
this word "Dias" as Zeus.

God of thunder.

Shirin, your tattoo...
It's a map.

Look. Here.

At the tip of the triangle
towards the star,

is the lightning bolt of Zeus,
marking the obelisk.

And here. This mark
is the water of the well.

Then this third mark,
like teardrops...

It must be the Crypt of Tears.
It's a perfect triangle.

So we need to find
the third point in the triangle

between the well
and the obelisk.

Here.

It's a rock.

We don't have long.

Alexander the Great's
secret desert bride.

It looks like honey.

To preserve her body.

There's someone else.

Oh.

What is it?

A knife... with the Lofthouse
crest and initials.

Your initials, Jonathon.

I just want to put things right.

You were here with Templeton
and Wilson.

We knew about the jewels.

- Where are the jewels?!
- Mama!

Tell me where they are!

I'll shoot all of you,
one by one!

Templeton stood guard, and
she led us here to the crypt.

The war.

It had taken its toll
on all of us, but...

...Templeton was...

We should never have left him
alone up there.

It was an accident.

Mama.

From that moment on,
we were all cursed.

You planted that emerald?

You wanted me to find it.

I thought if anyone
could help me get back here

and find this place,
it would be you.

So I could put the emerald back
and end the curse.

But Wilson didn't die
because he was cursed, Jonathon.

Someone murdered him.

And then they murdered
the sheikh.

Someone who didn't want
your crime to be revealed...

...and who wanted to ruin Lofty
for your sake.

Someone very close to you
who was always there,

who saw everything.

Your father.
Your real father.

That's enough, Miss Fisher.

Drop the weapon.

It was you?
You killed them?

They were gonna dig up the past.
I had to stop them.

You murdered them?
You framed Lofty?

Lofty is a drunkard,

determined to fritter away
your mother's estate.

She wanted you to have
your share.

The emerald is all you have.

Give it to me.

No.
This isn't right.

I have to pay
for what I've done.

How will that help?

It will destroy you.

We have to put the emerald back.
We have to end the curse.

Move!

Phryne, get out now.

You don't have to do this.

I do. I'm cursed.

I've been cursed
since the day I was born.

Get out!
All of you!

Come on!

Come on, Phryne!

Put it back.

You know I can't.

Stop, Phryne!

It's stopped.

Jonathon.

I passed on your request
to the high commissioner.

But unfortunately,

it's impossible to retrieve
your brother's body.

How did you know, Phryne?

About Crippins.

I'd wondered before...
about the small things.

The way Jonathon
always looked out for Crippins

and... the way Crippins hated you
whenever you taunted Jonathon.

I thought he was playing
favorites.

He was.

But it was when he spoke up
for Jonathon against you

to protect Jonathon
from suspicion

over the sheikh's murder.

Of course.

That's when I knew.

He hid the truth from you,
Lofty.

But he was still my brother.

He was.

This land will always be
full of ghosts, Miss Fisher.

But thanks to you,
it may live again.

Ma'a as-salaama, Shirin.

Ma'a as-salaama, Miss Fisher.

Miss Fisher?

There was an enormous tarantula.

You, uh... you shot a spider?

No.
I missed.

It went that way.

Got it.

It's my only fear, Jack.

Apart from spending
a long-distance flight

with Aunt Prudence.

I don't think that's true.

No?

What else am I afraid of?

Me.

You're afraid
if you fall in love with me,

I'll turn you
into a policeman's wife

and... try to stop you
from saving the world.

Well, it can't happen.

I'm already a married woman.

And I don't need to marry you.

I just need your heart.

Because God knows
you've got mine.

Jack.

I gave you that a long time ago.

For a detective,
you don't notice much.

By the way...
there wasn't really a tarantula.

Good.

I didn't really shoot one.

Miss Fisher?

Miss Phryne Fisher?

Yes.

This is for you.

Jack...
it's from my mother-in-law.

The Maharaja of Alwar
has been murdered!

Yalla, Fatima!
Yalla!