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[PASTORAL HARP MUSIC PLAYING]

[WIND BLOWING]

WOMAN: ♪ Our fathers' blood Taints the hallowed sea ♪

♪ Stars on the water ♪

♪ Raging tide tells of victory ♪

♪ Forsake us not, my daughter ♪

[DISTANT HORSE WHINNYING]

[BIRD CAWING]

Nicol?

Nicol?

[♪]

Hello?

Hello?

[HORSE NEIGHS NEARBY]

[HORSE WHINNYING]

[GASPING]

[♪]

NARRATOR: He was brought across in 1228.

Preyed on humans for their blood.

Now he wants to be mortal again...

To repay society for his sins...

To emerge from his world of darkness...

From his endless forever night.

[GROWLS]

MAN: Item number 172 from the Kushner estate:

Swan-pattern harp, ash wood,

of unknown English or Irish origin.

It's just coming up now, sir.

Oh, this is in beautiful condition,

ladies and gentlemen.

I haven't seen a finer specimen

in or out of a museum.

Bidding will begin

at 20.

Twenty.

Twenty, 20 is bid.

Twenty-five.

Twenty-eight.

AUCTIONEER: Thirty? Thirty.

Thirty is the bid, 30.

Do I have 35?

KNIGHT: Seventy-five.

[CROWD GASPING AND MURMURING]

AUCTIONEER: Seventy-five is offered. 75.

Eighty.

One hundred.

[CROWD MURMURING]

Anyone get lucky?

DISPATCH: Unit in the vicinity

spotted the vehicle in question, 81.

Private parking lot on Bartlett and Main.

I'm a half a block away. I got it.

AUCTIONEER: 275.

285.

Uh, with your approval,

the gentleman requires a moment to confer.

There you are.

We're not on for another two hours.

What are you doing here?

I've been looking for you.

Look, you really got to help me out.

Cohen's really steamed.

You know that Keller arrest report

that's supposed to be on her table?

Yeah, it's in the computer. Just print it out.

Easier said than done.

There's that new software.

It's a major nightmare, Nick.

How did you find me?

You didn't answer your phone,

you didn't answer your pager,

so I put out an APB.

On your Caddy, I mean.

We are at 285.

290.

[CROWD MURMURS]

I have three in the back.

Nick, he's pointing over here.

He thinks you're bidding.

300,000 is the bid. Do I have 310, sir?

Nick, he thinks you're bidding.

He thinks what?

310.

[MURMURING]

Nick...

AUCTIONEER: 310, once.

Twice.

Sold for $310,000 to the gentleman.

[PADDLE CLATTERS]

You know, a couple hundred bucks

for an autographed

Wayne Gretzky fridge magnet,

I would understand, but this...

What are you doing here?

KNIGHT: Ellen Kushner's estate auction.

Wait, Kushner?

Ellen "Beemer Off the Bloor Bridge" Kushner?

You know, when Forensics says it's an accident,

that generally means we're off the case.

Yeah, I know.

So what's this all about?

And if you're going to say "hunch,"

I'm going to have to hit you.

Silly me.

I was F9ing

when I should've been F10ing.

Thanks, Nick. I owe you big time.

So where was he?

Auction house, downtown.

It was a case.

Not a case. Ellen Kushner.

So you still don't think it was an accident?

Face it, Nick, it was a nice old lady,

emphasis on the word "old."

It was a rainy night, dark highway.

No enemies, no motive, no mystery, no case.

Schanke,

I've got the Crown prosecutor holding

on the phone.

This isn't really about Ellen Kushner's death,

is it?

Coffee?

She was one of the biggest collectors

in the country.

I thought it made sense

to see who was buying up her estate.

So...was it there?

Was what there?

The harp.

Did you think I didn't see you looking at it

when they were tagging her collection?

I underestimated you.

I guess so.

Did you get it?

Schanke showed up.

I couldn't let him see me spend 10 years' salary

in one night.

It's too bad. It was a beautiful piece.

I'm not letting it go.

Not after all this time.

I'll think of something.

Why is it so important?

It's from before.

Before what?

[♪]

[HORSES NEIGHING IN DISTANCE]

MAN: These cults

will come around to our point of view.

You will see, Nicholas.

The land of Carreg

is far afield of the pope, my lord.

Does the Holy See hold sway

this far from Rome?

This far, and far beyond this realm.

Ours is not to question the will of God,

but to follow it.

And it is God's will that we bequeath papal blessing

on the current Lord of Carreg.

It is hoped we can bolster his failing quest

to bring God to the pagans that surround him,

and would see him...

spirited from the fold, so to speak.

You sound like

a general of old, my lord,

on a campaign for your emperor.

Our empire has a friendlier face,

does it not?

You ask too many questions

that require complicated answers, Nicholas.

Bad practice.

What if we journey in vain, my lord?

What if our influence is unwelcome?

These people are pagans, Nicholas.

God is the wind in our sails.

Failing that, he is the iron in our swords.

If the Lord of Carreg is unable

to accomplish the task he was charged with,

it shall fall upon us

to bring these people an offer

that must not be refused.

[HARP PLAYING IN DISTANCE]

[GENTLY] Whoa.

Whoa, whoa.

[HORSE WHINNIES]

[CHIMES TINKLING]

Music, my lord.

Do you hear it?

I hear nothing.

Such a strange sound.

With your blessings, my lord, I shall ride on ahead.

Come on. Let's go.

Come on.

♪ Our fathers' blood Taints the hallowed sea ♪

♪ Stars on the water ♪

♪ Raging tide tells of victory ♪

♪ Forsake us not, my daughter ♪

It's beautiful.

I hope...we did not disturb you.

The song is over.

You come with the delegation,

don't you?

I am Nicholas de Brabant.

I serve the Lord DeLabarre.

And how do you serve your lord here, Nicholas de Brabant?

So far from your home.

So far from your heaven.

As he compels me to.

[DOOR OPENS]

KNIGHT: Late night, Mr. Baskers?

[COCKS GUN]

How did you get in?

Back door was open.

It was?

The swan harp.

Number 28.

I never forget a big player's face,

you know?

You really wanted that, didn't you?

I was wondering

if you could tell me about the buyer.

All bidder information is strictly confidential.

I'm sure you understand,

these rules protect your privacy as well, sir.

Nick Knight, Metro Homicide.

I also wonder if you could tell me

where I'd find the buyer's agent.

Then I imagine

you'll be returning in the morning

with a subpoena

for my records, detective.

Until then,

good night.

[BELL TOLLING]

[♪]

[CAR STARTS]

[POLICE RADIO CHATTER]

Samuel Baskers, R.I.P.

Broken neck.

Looks like a pro did it.

Very quick, very neat.

You know what's weird?

There's two million dollar'' worth of stuff in there.

The only thing missing is the harp from the Kushner estate.

Nick had a hunch. I should have listened.

Look, I know this sounds way out,

but what if killing her

were the only way to put it on the market,

to put it out there where they could get at it?

I'll go you one better.

They killed the auctioneer

after they couldn't buy the thing.

Lot of fuss over a fiddle.

Well, I guess

we've got to reopen the Kushner case,

re-check all the physical evidence.

I'll talk to Baskers' assistant,

get a list of everyone who was here yesterday,

especially everyone

who was interested in that harp.

You going to have something for us tonight?

What?

Uh, yeah.

Yeah, uh, check with me later.

These have been here from before memory.

The people who put them here

invested them with magic.

Are you so sure

there is nothing in this world

unknown to your beloved church?

You cannot tell me

you do not feel the magic.

I do feel the magic.

But it's not coming from these stones.

These people, your forebears,

where are they now?

Their magic

could not sustain them against time.

No magic can do that.

Except perhaps the word of your God, Nicholas?

And your representative of God on Earth?

Nothing remains of the ancients

but this circle.

The same will be true of my people soon.

Your Lord DeLabarre

will have his part in that.

How?

You're but an innocent pawn

in all of this, Nicholas.

I will be the last to carry the harp,

the last to sing the songs of my people.

They say

there are 10,000 songs in this harp

for the singer

skilled enough to know them all.

They all also say

that a miller's daughter drowned

and that her soul became a swan,

and the swan became a harp.

Do you believe it?

Hmm, 'tis ash wood and wire.

But it has a soul.

[DOOR SLIDES OPEN]

Nick...

Oh, God.

Where did you get it?

I took it.

It's not that simple.

I couldn't let it disappear again.

It needed me.

Needed you? Nick...

it's not yours.

Who does it belong to, then?

Who owns something that was stolen 800 years ago?

That's not the point.

You want something, you just walk in and take it?

All right, all right.

Just tell me that you didn't kill him.

Kill who?

Baskers was murdered sometime last night,

and whoever killed him took the harp.

At least, that's what it looks like.

He was alive when he left there.

I saw him.

It must have happened this morning.

It was someone else.

Someone... who couldn't find the harp?

Uh, I don't know, Nick.

I don't know how you're gonna get yourself out of this one.

[DOOR CLOSING]

Good evening, Mr. Sleepyhead.

While you were visiting Mr. Sandman,

I have been working.

Interpol is getting back to us

on all the known owners of that harp

prior to Ellen Kushner.

Wait a second, Schanke.

This may have nothing to do with the harp.

The killer might not have been the one

who stole the harp.

Of course he--

Listen, Nick, let's not overthink this thing

if we don't have to.

I talked to Baskers' assistant.

I thought he was gonna hold his breath till he blew up.

But I did coax the buyer's name out of him.

The guy's name is, um...

Oh, if could only read my own writing.

Debarre...

DeLabarre.

Yeah, yeah, that's it, DeLabarre.

Also known as

[BRITISH ACCENT] Lord Carreg

from England. Wales.

Genuine royalty,

even if he is 968th in line to the throne.

His gofer is a Bay Street lawyer

by the name of Ted Haley

at, what else, Haley, Haley, and Blah-blah-blah.

Did you get DeLabarre's address?

Yeah, sure.

When in Toronto,

Sir DeLabarre is bivouacked

at the oh-so-proper Salisbury Club.

We're talking polo buddy

to the Prince of Wales here.

What about the other bidder?

Ah, now we're rolling.

Blond woman, right?

Baskers' assistant didn't know her name,

and her card was missing.

I think that's what we detectives call

"significant coincidence."

[BELLS TOLLING]

May I help you, gentlemen?

Yeah, we want to see Lord Carreg.

Are you waiting for the magic word?

His lordship is, uh, out for the evening,

I'm afraid.

Well, that's great.

We'll pull down his bed, leave a mint on his pillow.

Lord Carreg

would expect that only his invited guests

would be admitted to his room.

We have a murder investigation here,

and Lord Carreg is a material participant.

I have yet to see any official documents

to that effect, sir.

Keep your teeth in, Jeeves.

I'll get a phone warrant.

That could take some time.

Uh, it's okay. Yo, Spike, where's the blower?

Thanks.

Perhaps you misunderstood.

[HEART BEATING]

Lord Carreg is expecting us.

Yes, of course, sir.

Go right up, sir. Room 243.

He's expecting you.

Thank you.

[BEATING STOPS]

MAN: My family crest,

since the time of my ancestor,

the second Lord of Carreg.

So the harp's an heirloom?

Lost back in the 13th century.

It was preserved in the county crest

and in local legend.

The locals say the soul of the land

is locked in the harp,

which probably explains

why we've never been able to make the manor yield

like it should.

But that pales in comparison with recent events.

Speaking of which,

there was a woman at the auction--

Blond hair.

She was bidding on the harp.

So I understand,

and she murdered the auctioneer,

stole the harp?

Well, we-- We just want to talk to her.

I would give a great deal

to talk to her myself.

But I'm sorry.

I do not know who she was.

Is there any chance

of recovering the harp now?

Things can disappear

in the underground art market

in 24 hours

and not show up for another hundred years.

Something like this,

who knows what it's worth to someone.

There's a saying in the antique trade, detective,

that the value of any item

is whatever someone is willing to pay for it.

Then the harp

is as expensive as they come,

because someone's killing for it.

SCHANKE: Okay, so I like to rub shoulders

with bluebloods

as much as the next guy,

but there's no way our mystery blond

moves in the same circles as his lordship,

except maybe to manicure his fingernails.

I know.

Well, the point is that I don't think--

It was worth a shot, and, uh...

And I wanted to meet him.

That's it?

[♪]

What?

There's someone here.

Go around.

[WHOOSHING]

Nice night for a climb, isn't it?

Don't even think about it!

[PANTING]

I'd say we've got our killer.

We ran her passport.

The last time she was in town was the end of March.

When Dame Kushner died.

Ellen Kushner checked her mother's calendar

and found two meetings with Johanna Shea

the week before her death.

Good collar, gentlemen.

Now, let's nail this down.

I'm an archaeologist.

Quite the little rock-climber too.

That was a pretty sophisticated rig you had.

A modern archaeologist uses many different tools, detective.

Oh, yeah, I believe it.

And what sort of treasures of antiquity

were you digging for at the Salisbury?

Oh, let me guess.

Bones, right?

A lot of dinosaurs there, huh, Nick?

I work at the Museum at Giant's Hand:

the stone circle in Carreg, Wales.

Where the harp comes from.

JOHANNA: Yes.

Look, it doesn't belong in a private collection

It belongs in Carreg.

So you came here to get it back.

By any means.

Yes.

Where is it now?

I don't have it.

We know you tried to get it off of Ellen Kushner.

She wouldn't sell, so you pushed her off a bridge.

Baskers wouldn't play cricket,

so you killed him too and took the harp.

Someone took the harp?

KNIGHT: You were at the auction house

after hours.

I was there.

I needed to get

the name and address of the buyer.

Baskers wouldn't tell me, but...

that's all.

What about Ellen Kushner?

You saw her the week she died.

She had agreed

to donate the harp to us,

but she died

before we could complete the paperwork.

I only had an oral agreement.

I talked to her lawyer, and he said

since there was no record of her intent,

that I would have to try and buy the harp at auction

like everyone else.

I sold my house, brought my savings.

It wasn't anything like enough, as it happened.

I'd do anything to take it home.

It's part of my history, my people's history.

The legend has it,

it contains the soul and spirit of our land.

What were you doing

outside that window tonight?

I...wanted to see Lord Carreg,

but those...

Oh, those stuffed shirts at the Salisbury Club

wouldn't let me through.

KNIGHT: What did you want with him?

Well, he bought the harp.

I was hoping he'd be like Mrs. Kushner

and want to return it to its home.

I didn't take the harp,

and I didn't kill anyone.

You're going to tell me

you don't think she did it.

I think she's telling the truth.

You're saying that someone else broke in,

stole the harp, and eighty-sixed Baskers?

Something like that.

[CHUCKLES]

You really don't like to make them easy,

do you?

Call it a hunch.

Maybe he knows something you don't.

No, no, no, we're partners.

Everything's on the table.

It's the only way to work.

What is that thing?

Lungs. Smokers' lungs.

Whoa, I'm glad I quit.

I got to admit, this museum lady

doesn't seem to be the type.

Now, I'm not ruling her out,

mind you, but just remember

that Baskers' neck was snapped by a pro.

Or not. I mean, it's got to be her.

It comes down

to who wants that stupid harp enough

to kill for it.

It can't be this DeLabarre guy.

He won the toss, so why bother?

Johanna Shea's the only one with something to gain.

So, what's the problem?

Something doesn't fit.

If she stole the harp yesterday,

why was she trying

to break into DeLabarre's place today?

Why wasn't she halfway to England?

Wales.

Whatever.

Well, maybe she didn't steal the harp.

Then we're back to square one.

Listen, I'm off duty.

We got her for trespassing and attempted B and E.

We'll, um, keep her overnight

and figure it out tomorrow.

Well, it looks like Baskers died

about 8:30 this morning.

That lets you off the hook.

Sunrise was 6:15.

You mean, I wasn't off the hook before?

Excuse me.

What about Johanna Shea?

What about her?

Well, Schanke thinks she's the killer

because he thinks she took the harp.

But she didn't take the harp...

did she?

I'm ready to listen

when you're ready to tell me the rest of the story.

[♪]

Stolen your heart, has she?

Not hardly.

I'd say otherwise.

Tell me, Nicholas,

you spend hours with her,

listening to her song and her siren harp,

the same music

with which she stirs the rabble against us.

What does she speak of with you?

Only of her people.

Of their...

Their magic,

their tradition--

Their godless rituals

of casting sticks and stones

to glean the future?

Their unwillingness to follow

the will of God and their king?

How about their subterfuge

and their murderous ways--? She's not like that.

Your heart can tell you many things,

young Nicholas,

but it cannot-- It will not

tell you when it is being tricked.

Long ago,

I learned the hard way

that there is work and there is pleasure,

and the two must always stay distinct.

I know how you feel, Nicholas.

I shan't dissuade you with any more than this.

Consider that the fair maid Gwyneth

is work,

no more.

[HORSE NEIGHING]

[GWYNETH SINGING, PLAYING HARP]

[CHIMES TINKLING]

♪ By a raven's tunes ♪

♪ For the land's defeat ♪

♪ All my... ♪

The lords meet tonight.

Shouldn't you attend?

[♪]

I am but an attaché.

My words mean very little in their circles.

Our time is too short here.

I'm sorry it could not be longer.

Well, why do you say that?

I have seen it in the stones that were cast for me.

We will not share a destiny.

You would take a soothsayer's word

before you would take mine?

More than words. The truth.

My people will never bow to the will of Rome.

Our ways will vanish in blood

and the life will go out of the land.

The harp alone will remain.

And when it is taken, a curse will be within it.

That the fullness of life will be denied

to whomever possesses it.

So that we will not be forgotten.

What foolishness.

Lord DeLabarre is right.

You cling to your paganism

like lichen to a stone.

What did your soothsayer tell you of me?

Surely, you would have asked.

That you will live very long...

and in that time...

never find happiness.

Play for me.

[PLAYING PEACEFUL TUNE]

GWYNETH: Nicol?

Nicol?

Nicol?

Gwyneth.

[GASPING]

Gwyneth!

Gwyneth!

[SOFTLY] Gwyneth.

[FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING]

JOHANNA: You believe me?

Yeah.

I believe you.

I didn't take the harp or kill anyone.

I know.

You talk to a lawyer?

Ah, I don't know anyone here.

I'm a long way from home.

I'll see what I can do.

[♪]

[DOOR OPENS]

My lord, you must know that I'm innocent.

Of course, Nicholas, of course.

Such ugly business, this.

In time, the true killer will be unearthed.

No doubt it was one of the field hands,

one of their own,

bent on taking the poor woman.

What's to become of me?

I've managed to secure your freedom, Nicholas,

on condition

that you pay your debt and your penance

by fighting in the Holy Land.

I am not a murderer.

I must have a chance for a fair trial.

Are you blind, man?

You are a foreigner here.

The harper woman

was their native daughter.

Stay to protest,

and they'll have your head.

The archbishop and I

have exercised all our resources

in order to secure this reprieve, Nicholas.

I advise you to accept it

and our blessing

and take your sword to Jerusalem.

My lord.

Well, I don't see why the public defender

couldn't have handled this,

Detective Knight.

You're already involved, counselor.

Just call it a favor to the police department.

Besides, ultimately,

it's all to benefit Lord DeLabarre.

We all want to see him get

what's coming to him, don't we?

The harp.

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

Meet Johanna Shea.

Ms. Shea.

My name is Haley,

from Haley, Haley & Hart.

Can you believe we got to spring her?

She claims she doesn't know a soul in town,

but sure enough, somebody ponied up her bond.

A mysterious benefactor, maybe?

Yeah. JOHANNA: I'll be staying

at a hotel near the airport

a few more days.

HALEY: Yes, well, let me give you a lift, will you?

I'll get home all right, thank you, Mr. Haley.

We need to talk soon. I'll be in touch.

Yes.

A minute, detective,

if you don't mind.

Mr. Haley just told me that

you asked him to work on this on my behalf.

Why?

Well, Haley knows the circumstances of this case

much better than any public defender would,

uh, and everyone has a right to a good lawyer.

Maybe I wish I had one once.

Look, detective, I'm an archaeologist,

and if there's one thing archaeologists know,

it's how to put the pieces together.

So here's what I have.

You're bidding against me for the harp,

then you arrest me for killing Baskers,

then...

you help me off the hook.

You've got a lot of pieces

that don't make

"Homicide detective on a case."

What do they make?

I don't know yet.

I'm a lot better at mysteries a thousand years old.

You can't be raised where I was raised

and not believe in some kind of magic.

[♪]

I think things happen the way they do

for a reason,

even if we don't know what it is.

There's a reason for you too.

I hope so.

DeLABARRE: Do come in.

Counselor Haley.

Can I get you something, then?

No, no thank you, Lord Carreg.

I just dropped by to tell you

that Miss Shea has been released from custody,

and the police have persuaded me to act for her.

And she does not have the harp?

Oh, I can't say that for sure.

The police seem to feel that she doesn't have it,

but at the same time,

they're keeping a close watch on her.

Strange bit of luck for her.

Not too good for us, then.

Did she mention where she was staying?

[♪]

I thought you'd have it.

So, what have you got?

Hugh DeLabarre's dossier.

I ran his records.

This guy's a lord only on paper.

He's got a lot of rotten land with his name of it,

and a lot of nothing else.

I mean, where did this guy get $310,000?

We are on the same wavelength, mon ami.

From Interpol.

The harp surfaced 120 years ago

when a private English estate collection

went up for sale.

Since then, there've been three, count them, three owners

from the same family

who all met their maker prematurely.

Specifically, at 55 years of age.

And you've got to love this punch line...

DeLabarre, all three of them.

Sir Hughie Dewey lied to us when he said

his family never owned the harp.

The curse. What?

Call back up to Johanna's hotel

and meet me there.

Well, why? What's going on over there--?

Nick?

Uh, I didn't take it.

It was just here.

Oh, well and good.

But let's get down to the matter, shall we?

I paid for it.

I have a record of the sale.

It belongs to me.

Shouldn't we wait

until the police have had a chance

to determine who should get it?

I expect they'll determine that this is a matter

where free enterprise reigns, eh?

I paid for it.

It's mine.

I do hope you're not going to make this

difficult for me, Ms. Shea.

I've been fed up with the way this has gone, and I'm tired.

[GROANING]

[GRUNTS]

[GROANS]

[JOHANNA SCREAMS]

MAN: What's going on down there?

Out of my way.

Give me the harp.

No.

It's killing me.

And you killed to get it.

Ellen Kushner

and Baskers.

Do you have any idea what it's like

to live under a curse?

This curse has followed us for 800 years.

Every man in my family dies at 55.

I'm 54, detective.

Please.

I have to destroy the damn thing.

Give me the harp.

[FIRING]

[GUN CLICKING]

JOHANNA: Help me! Police!

Can somebody help me?

Detective Knight.

What happened?

A-are you all right?

[GASPS]

Thank you.

[TRUCK HORN BLOWING]

The forensic info from Baskers'

is a perfect match with DeLabarre.

We've got hair samples, skin samples...

It was him.

Case closed.

What about the harp?

You know, I heard someone laid down

a half-million for it at auction,

then turned around and gave it

to that museum in Carreg.

Really?

Yeah. Listen, I'm done.

See you when the night shift reconvenes.

[BRITISH ACCENT] Natalie, I take my leave, my lady.

I'm off to snag 40 winks, what?

[HAUGHTY LAUGH]

Your lordship. Hmm.

Nat...

would you stop worrying about me?

I'm all right.

When do I not have to worry?

Nick, I trust you,

but you just can't throw the rule book out

every time something from your past comes up.

I won't.

Oh, really? And what's going to stop you?

You.

A half a million dollars.

Oh...

[HARP PLAYING]

♪ Our fathers' blood Taints the hallowed sea ♪

♪ Stars on the water ♪

♪ Raging tide tells of victory ♪

♪ Forsake us not, my daughter ♪

[♪]

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