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Max...
Max.
Patrick?
Well, did you call for the police?
Certainly not!
Little thing like that wasn't going to scare me.
You ran away?
Well, then, what did you do?
- Do you really want to know? - Of course.
I said, "Put that away or I'll chop it off
feed it to the pigeons
and watch you bleed to death in the gutter."
Hm.
I'm thinking of moving into refrigerators.
Men have no sense of humour.
- I have no sense of humour. - Nonsense.
Your books are very funny.
You're too kind.
It's not something I'm often accused of.
- You're an archaeologist. - My husband's an archaeologist.
I'm an illustrator, and a provocateur.
- Who do you provoke? - Men.
Perhaps you could give me some advice.
Well, that depends what you're looking for.
Another husband?
Sex?
Romance.
Isn't that just a prelude to sex?
It's... longing and passion
desire and fulfilment.
Sounds like sex to me.
I'm trying to write about it.
Look, I like your books as they are.
I don't want to be remembered as a woman
who wrote 100 detective novels.
I'm moving on.
To romance?
Seems I have a lot to learn.
Well, I... don't know the first thing about it
but I am sure I can help. Leonard!
Yes, dear?
Would you say Iraq is romantic?
Romantic?
My God, it is the very essence of romance.
Think of Namu and Enlil.
Think of lnanna and Dumuzid.
Think of the sparkling waters of the Tigris...
That's what I was telling Agatha.
She wants to visit us, to do some research
into romance.
Excellent idea.
Come to our death pit.
That is a very kind offer, but.
I don't think one can research romance.
As you like.
I'm sure you'll find your feet eventually.
And if you don't
you know where to find us.
You naughty little archaeologist.
I am dirty, you're my favourite little artefact.
Inspect me...
Give me an inspection.
Let me touch your little, dirty pot.
Ooh!
Yes...
Boo!
Hm, the little spy.
Oh, darling, yes!
Yes!
There!
You hate it.
Of course not.
You like it?
I...
- It's about romance. - I see.
And passion.
It's not finished.
I should take it elsewhere. Oh, no.
It's a bold change of direction.
Very...
Unexpected.
So, you'll publish it?
How are things going with our next detective novel'?
That depends.
It does? On what?
On whether you'll publish that.
As you say, it's not finished.
But you'll publish it when it is.
When do you expect that to be?
I don't know. Does it matter?
Well, it needs to be soon.
It mustn't interfere with
with the plans for our Belgian friend.
Heaven forbid.
When would you want it?
Two months.
Two months?
I should say that's more than enough time for a
"passion project".
After all, one can't research romance, mm-hm?
Excuse me?
Have we arrived?
To Ur.
The dig.
The death pits.
Yes, yes.
The death pits.
Hello?
Hello? Mr Woolley?
It's Agatha Christie.
We met at General Seagrave's house?
I wired Katharine, she's expecting me.
- Oh, hello. - Are you alright?
I was just looking for something.
You're bleeding, you need a doctor.
I
I'd take you, but.
I have no idea where we are.
What happened?
Someone shot me.
You need medical assistance?
The person in need of help is outside in a car?
Karim!
I understand.
The bullet is small.
Hasn't penetrated the bone.
He may have a minor fracture.
He has a thick head.
Would you like me to take a look at that?
Oh, um...
It's nothing.
Is there anything further I can do for him?
Call me if he doesn't wake up.
If I may suggest, should there be a next time
perhaps try a larger gun.
Oh!
Goodnight, madam.
Can you hear me?
Do I know you? No, we've never met.
I'm sure we have.
Well, sometimes people think they've met me
it's an unfortunate consequence of being a bit famous.
Oh.
You're famous?
That explains it.
Let me guess, you're the wife of a well-known politician?
No, I'm not famous by marriage.
Then you're a well-known home economist
like Mrs Beeton?
No, I'm not famous for my practical housekeeping.
I've got it.
You're an actress.
Retired, of course.
My name is Agatha Christie.
I'm a writer.
No, sorry.
Never heard of you.
You found me.
Last night, you saved me.
I offered what assistance I could.
You'll need to settle your bill
and take your souvenir.
My leg...
- Feels like I've been run over. - Really?
Perhaps you fell.
I wonder.
Would you mind driving me back to my lodge?
I won't be able to work the clutch.
You do realise someone tried to kill you?
My advice is that you go to the police.
You obviously don't know Iraq.
I'm not the one in bed with a bullet wound.
I'm investigating the murder of my friend.
No doubt another matter you kept from the police.
Of course not.
I found him in a sealed tomb surrounded by stolen artefacts.
The police said he was bitten by a snake.
When I went back to investigate, someone shot me.
The person who killed your friend.
It all adds up when you think about it.
Unless you're confusing deduction with speculation.
Really? And you're an expert in these sorts of things?
I, um.
It's been a difficult few days.
If you could just help me get back home.
Well, I'm afraid last night's adventures have severely
delayed me.
My hosts are probably calling the embassy.
Where are you going? Perhaps we could go together?
I'm due at Ur.
As the guest of Mr and Mrs Leonard Woolley.
Kate and Leo?
Oh, what a perfect coincidence!
I'm one of Leonard's archaeologists.
If you know the Woolleys, you must have heard of me, I...
I-I live with them. I'm almost family.
I'm Max.
Max Mallowan.
Oh, you're Max!
Max Mallowan?
They never mentioned you.
Were you expecting the police?
No.
Just stop here.
This is murder, plain and simple!
You should be hunting down the monster who did this!
Oh, Agatha!
Oh, thank God you're here!
Something terrible has happened.
This is Agatha Christie.
The world's greatest detective.
Now that she's here, Heaven help the person who killed Ella.
Well, you can bugger off now.
Agatha?
How shall we begin our investigation?
I'm sorry about yesterday.
I behaved appallingly.
I didn't even say thank you.
You're not staying?
Coming here was a mistake.
Why did you come?
For the archaeology.
How well do you know the Woolleys?
I've met them once.
My decision to come was a little impulsive.
It's not what I expected.
Well, it can be something of a madhouse.
Would you like to visit another dig?
I have a friend excavating near Kirkuk.
It's much more... normal.
- What will you do? - Nothing.
I'm used to it.
Used to people trying to kill you?
- I can handle that. - What if they try again?
- They won't. - How do you know?
I'll do some detective work of my own.
Find them first.
Detective work?
Like the Continental Op?
Like archaeology.
Follow the clues.
Isn't that what got you shot in the first place?
I'll be more careful.
How do you think the monkey died?
It spent most of its time biting people and stealing things
from our rooms.
I suppose someone finally cracked.
Sure, but...
How?
Not why.
They strung her up. We all saw that.
Have you ever tried to hang a monkey?
Well, um.
I suppose it would be quite difficult.
You'd have to catch it, then
tie a noose round its neck, then...
Stop it from doing what a monkey does best and climbing away.
Also the realities of hanging are quite grim.
The body...
Purges.
Why would anyone fabricate a monkey's death?
What are you doing here?
Stopping you from getting yourself killed, I should think.
Well, in that case, you'll have to stay.
You wouldn't want my death on your hands.
If I'm going to help, I'll need to send a telegram.
Maybe I could.
I've met them before.
Oh, I like that! Do that again!
Their morning constitutionals are usually quite short.
Telegram?
I'll send it right away.
And then I'll make a proper introduction to our residents.
Or should I say... suspects?
Who's "Conan-Doyle"?
You're not very well-read, are you'?
Too busy translating Sumerian poetry.
Where's our benefactor?
Avoiding me, no doubt.
Have you met the lodge's resident aristocrat?
Not yet.
Years of inbreeding have left him mostly harmless.
But somehow still capable of paying for your lunch.
Is he with Constance?
Sorry, God, I keep forgetting!
"Sir Constance".
Perhaps your husband and the good lord
are finding common ground across the generational divide.
Do the pictures of the men with pointy hats
go above or below the river?
"The men with pointy hats" are archers.
If you turn them in the direction of fire...
No, not seeing it.
Looks like a Ku Klux Klan convention to me.
Mrs Christie.
It's a real pleasure.
I don't read books, but if I did
yours would be the books I'd be reading.
Delighted to meet you, Lord Ponsonby.
Ah!
They tracked me down and gave me a title
but I'm about as much of an earl
as Leonard is the king of California!
Call me Marmaduke. Please.
Now...
After the events of yesterday
you must have a very poor opinion of the operation
that I run here.
Not at all, I'm sure it's a great shock to everyone.
Especially the monkey.
Oh, I've been telling Katharine to get rid of that pest
ever since the day it arrived.
It's been nothing but trouble.
Still, events have to be taken seriously.
No, you're right.
And what with Patrick's death and Max's adventures...
How are you doin'?
Grateful to Mrs Christie for her impeccable timing.
You should be grateful to the person who shot you
with a girl's gun.
Being stupid is not heroic, despite what you English think.
And whilst we're on the subject of lucky escapes
I want to make a formal complaint
about the total disregard over greed blasting protocol.
I nearly lost an eye yesterday
thanks to Miss Bernard's incompetence.
Sorry, I mean "claustrophobia".
Shame it wasn't the one in the back of your head
although after the recent flood of artefact theft
maybe that one's already gone blind.
Well, unless of course its sole purpose
is other peoples business.
My only interests are other people's property.
You're not the only one.
If you hadn't have been creeping around
you wouldn't have got hurt.
These are all important matters.
We must improve the security and safety of our dig.
This is no laughing matter.
What does monkey taste like?
Bitter almonds, I hope.
Mrs Christie? Telegram for you.
Oh. Assuming we're not eating the evidence.
I think I might be able to help.
Did you enjoy meeting Marmaduke?
Well, he's certainly a character.
Are you alright?
Oh, it's just a graze.
I told you it was the wrong site.
You shouldn't have been there.
The only way to know is to dig.
I'm glad you're OK.
Hello, I'm Agatha.
Pearl Theroux.
I'll get... those things.
What's your role here?
- That depends. - On what?
On whether my role is what I was employed to do
or what I find myself doing.
I was employed as a companion to Katharine
and told I would assist illustrating the finds.
When I got here
I found Katharine already had a companion
and my duties were better described as "dogsbody".
I haven't: Met Katharine's companion.
She's about two foot tall and dead.
The monkey?
Perhaps now I'll get a promotion.
Although, if Katharine preferred the company of a screeching
kleptomaniac to a young woman, I'm not sure.
Well, you're an attractive young woman.
Youth can be threatening.
It can be bloody annoying.
I've a doctorate in medicine during the reign of Hammurabi.
Max is the same age as me and he's worked two digs.
I imagine that must be very difficult.
It's unfair.
Then the funders are all men.
Rich, independent women able to further the cause
of emancipation by helping to understand the origins
of civilisation are hard to come by.
Indeed.
I better be getting back to my duties.
God help us if we run out of gin.
You know, in 563 BC, Amel-Marduk allowed his kingdom
to descend into chaos.
I warned Max this meant Nebuchadnezzar's
burial records were likely a fabrication.
He didn't listen.
Men struggle to take advice from women.
It's threatening?
It's also hard to listen when you're staring
at someone's tits.
Everything OK?
Are they the new instructions?
Some new clue?
I borrowed one of your books from Katharine.
The detective was forever holding back information
that would help solve the crime.
Is that what you're doing?
Are you and Pearl involved?
No.
Whatever gave you that idea?
She's... She's young.
The Acadians believed that youth was a curse.
I tend to agree.
Why the ridiculous question?
Not sure.
- We need its liver. - I see.
Where's that?
How should I know?
What does it say?
"Remove the liver."
I know where my kidneys are, I think.
What does it look like?
Well, like the sort you eat, I imagine.
Thin and fleshy and mahogany colour.
Or is that kidneys?
I'm an archaeologist!
Better start digging.
Have you got it?
I think so.
Oh...
Wait a minute.
Oh...
- No... - Oh.
- Don't know what that is. - No.
But I've never eaten it.
I'll be right as rain in a minute.
Ahem.
Who'd have thought?
Got it.
"Dilute sulfuric acid"
at a ratio of... 1:5.
"Add potassium dichromate."
How much?
Just.
I wish you'd tell me what we were looking for.
It's like you hold back information for maximum
dramatic effect.
Liver, please.
How long does it take?
Nothing's happening.
Strychnine.
Poison!
The monkey was poisoned.
- Why would you poison a monkey? - Why indeed?
And then hang it?
The monkey saw something.
Or perhaps it was an accident.
The monkey found the poison and drank it.
Poison that was meant for somebody else.
Patrick. I was right, it wasn't a snake bite!
The black desert cobra does produce a neurotoxin
but the muscle spasms you describe in Mr Mulholland
are indicative of strychnine.
The killer of your funder is living in this lodge!
Of course, we-we-we will need to confirm it.
Where was Mr Mulholland buried?
Uh, I imagine a similar test will suffice.
I have an appointment with Sir Constance.
Yes, Mrs Christie. Take a seat.
Mrs Christie?
- I hoped we'd meet at the lodge. - Thank you for seeing me.
I must say, I'm a great admirer.
When my wife died, your books kept me from...
Well, I don't know what.
Then we have something in common.
I had no idea Iraq was such a hotbed of innovation.
Imagine what it will be like in 100 years.
Progress gives me a headache.
But then, I'm a reasonable man.
I went surfing with Bernard Shaw.
He couldn't stand up.
Please, do come through.
Ah.
I've only just moved in. A recent change of duties.
A promotion?
Yes. At my age, unexpected.
Now, why have you come to see me?
Lucy told me what happened to Ella.
You're not really looking into this monkey business?
My writing requires constant inspiration.
When the opportunity presents itself
I find it hard to resist.
Well, fire away, but cards on the table
I hated that monkey.
Even though it posed no direct threat
to His Majesty's government.
Patrick Mulholland.
From what I hear, he was a very decent man.
We grew up together. He was a great friend.
To me and the British Museum.
He was also the brains in the partnership
with Lord Ponsonby.
He had great plans for their two digs.
But if you don't mind me asking
what does his death have to do with you?
I'm helping Mr Mallowan.
It seems his recent encounter with a bullet is related.
Surely this is a matter for the police?
Yes, but from what I hear, they don't seem to be doing anything.
I imagine it's a complicated affair
with lots of moving parts.
Then you are confident that Max's would-be killer
will be brought to justice?
Not really.
My advice to Mr Mallowan is to stay away from whatever
hornet's nest he disturbed.
I said the same thing.
But he's very young.
There isn't a thing from my youth I still hold dear.
If only the young understood that.
I think Mr Mulholland was poisoned.
- Yes, by a snake. - More likely a woman.
Or a man.
I see, and you want my assistance to find out?
Very well.
But if I help you, I would ask you do something for me.
Of course. Whatever I can.
Your husband, Archie.
We divorced. It's a... It's a matter of public record.
He had an affair.
- She was much younger than he. - 24.
What is this about?
I'm very sorry, I'll get to the point.
My wife Lucy is
twenty years younger than me.
She is having an affair with a person considerably
younger than her.
Betrayal is a horrible thing.
I'm reconciled to it.
The problem is not the affair but the person
she's having it with.
You expect her to be hurt.
And you'd like that avoided.
With your experience, I thought you might be able to advise her.
She'll listen to you.
I can't be expected to succeed.
Your best efforts will suffice.
And you'll look into what killed Mr Mulholland'?
Is this diplomacy?
As much as I enjoy your books
I must say your talents are wasted.
Shoo.
Oh. Hello!
Are you digging your own grave?
Sorry. I'm not dressed for company.
Indeed.
Did Sir Constance help you?
Yes. What are you doing?
The monkey.
I promised Katharine we'd bury it.
Seems a little big.
She has a coffin.
How old are you?
Twenty-five, almost.
- Same age as Pearl. - She's 24.
- Marmaduke? - 27.
- Ezekiel? - 29.
Why the sudden interest?
Are there any other young people who spend time at the lodge?
I'm not going to tell you.
Why not?
Because you don't tell me anything.
Lucy's having an affair with someone younger than her
and I need to know who.
It's not me.
I went to the embassy today.
Mm. Constance told me.
Can I ask you a question?
In a minute.
I am going to have to say something now.
Do be careful, darling.
Jesus said
"no-one is good... except God."
Jesus Christ never met my monkey!
Get off.
Now, what did you want to ask me?
I'm terribly sorry, but do you mind consoling Katharine?
She did so love that awful creature.
Have you, uh
found our monkey murderer?
I'm leaning towards death by misadventure.
Mm... An accidental hanging?
The hanging was deliberate.
The poisoning wasn't.
Poisoning?
Followed by a panic.
The amateur criminals often overcompensate.
Oh, so he's a novice?
That's good.
How do we catch him?
"Softly, softly caught the monkey."
Did you hear that, Lucy?
Our pet killer's a greenhorn.
My mother had a saying.
"Never slap a man who's chewing tobacco."
You'll have to excuse me. I have a show to watch.
Cabin fever.
We're pack animals, I suppose.
Sir Constance told me about your affair.
I thought he might.
He wants me to tell you it will end badly.
He's right.
Love always does.
I told him you wouldn't listen.
Also true.
The pain will be unbearable.
It will diminish you.
I know.
It won't stop me.
I'm beginning to think the monkey was the best of us.
Is everything alright?
Another day at the zoo.
Welcome to our dig!
Thank you.
Agatha!
- Agatha! - Hello.
It seems I've come at the wrong time for a tour.
It's perfect timing! I need to do a stock check.
I'd rather not know if anything else has been stolen.
If anything is missing, at least you'll know who to blame.
Gosh.
Everything we find ends up here.
What's this?
Part of the creation story.
Which part?
How the Tigris was formed.
It's not very interesting.
Sounds fascinating.
There's a plate here that's 4,500 years old.
- How was it formed? - A basic pinch technique.
The Tigris, not the plate.
One of the gods.
Which one?
Enki.
Enki?
Well, how did Enki form the Tigris?
You don't have to be shy.
I can take a bit of intimacy with my romance.
Max, just tell me!
He came.
- He what? - He ejaculated.
And said what?
- He didn't say anything. - He didn't?
I suppose he might have made a noise.
- What sort of noise? - I don't know!
I thought you were an expert.
- Not in this! - In what?
In the noises gods make when they produce a river of semen.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry! I am sorry.
I didn't realise you were so sensitive.
I'm not sensitive.
I think you are.
You're.
Cold.
Manipulative?
Cruel.
Amazing.
Should I lock it?
Yes.
Sumerian poetry.
Someone just tried to kill us.
What's been stolen now?
Someone tried to blow us up.
What are you talking about?
We've all been here since you left.
Why are you half-dressed?
Have you been drinking?
What have you done with Agatha?
Oh...
Agatha?
Agatha!
A misfire.
Well of course it was a misfire.
- If it wasn't, we'd be dead! - Where did you get this from?
I didn't get it from anywhere!
Just tell me exactly what happened.
- Agatha and I were in this room. - Doing what?
Looking at the artefacts.
Was the door open or closed?
- It was locked. - Locked?
Yes. Remember, you told me to lock it at all times,
Of course, but if the door was locked
how did someone throw dynamite in?
I think
I let my imagination get the better of me.
What happened to you?
I got lost.
Are you alright?
Oh, dear.
Would someone tell me what's going on?
Max was showing me his artefacts
and I noticed the dynamite and I had the ridiculous notion
we were about to be blown to smithereens.
Another dangerous lapse in protocol.
But not a murder attempt?
I must say, Agatha, things are a lot more interesting
- since your arrival. - I'm very sorry.
Must've been the excitement of the moment.
I need to repair this before it gets ground into the dirt.
She's right. Everyone out!
I'll help. It's the least I can do.
Uh, would you leave it open?
Aren't we supposed to keep it closed'?
I'm claustrophobic.
Of course. I forgot.
You care a lot for these relics.
More than most people.
Then why assist in their theft?
You were at lunch when we were attacked.
There has to be someone else.
The woman my husband was having an affair with
suffered from claustrophobia.
Put her in a lift, and she fell to pieces.
No!
How do you like our artefacts?
They're very impressive.
Romantic?
Perhaps you'll need to do a bit more research.
How could you do that?
Who are you helping?
Is it the person you're having an affair with?
Despite your feelings for them, they just tried to kill me.
That's absurd.
Why? Because they would never do such a thing?
I don't know what you're talking about.
It's horrible finding out the truth about people we love.
I doubt you know the first thing about it.
You'd be surprised.
I mean love.
I'm sure you're an expert at betrayal.
You know, now that I've met you, I understand why your husband
left you for another woman.
You're a dried-up martinet.
And you're an accessory to murder.
Have you thought for a minute what will happen to you?
My husband likes your books because they're like him.
Cold, sterile and manipulative.
Have you thought for a minute what Max will do when
he finds out he's just another piece on your chessboard?
I waited until everyone went to bed.
We have a lot to talk about.
I don't understand what happened.
I'm working.
Have I done something?
It's been a long day.
What are you writing?
I want to spend time with you.
- I want to be on my own. - Why?
What happened?
- I don't know. - I do.
We found each other.
- It was stupid. - It wasn't.
It's fantasy.
It's real.
It's ridiculous.
I'm sorry to disturb you.
Is something wrong?
Lucy didn't come home last night.
I was told you were the last person to see her.
- I was? - In the artefact room.
- Yes. - I left after lunch.
Did you mention what we talked about? Was she alright?
She seemed fine, yes.
I haven't seen her since.
Oh, well...
Thank you.
Oh, um, I'm afraid there was a mix-up at the morgue.
Patrick's remains were cremated.
No way to check for poison.
Then who did you bury?
An Indian colonel
who found this country.
Ah.
Back to what you do best, I see.
Another thing that comes with age.
Knowing when you're beaten.
Do you mind if I ask you a question?
What is it?
Are you having an affair with Lucy?
Of all the stupid, preposterous things that have been said
to me in this lodge, that takes the biscuit.
I didn't think so.
Would you like to discuss funding?
One quick question before we begin.
Are you having an affair?
If... If the monkey's here... what's in the coffin?
Would you like to play?
Draughts was invented here.
If we had a time machine, and went back 5,000 years
we'd find two people doing much the same thing.
I'd settle for 24 hours.
To trap Lucy's killer.
It'll be some work to find a replacement.
I'm not clear what she did.
She logged the finds.
Gathered the paperwork
and prepared everything for export.
Without her, the operation will grind to a halt.
So you'll stop excavating? Heavens, no!
It's far too important.
Nothing short of war could do that.
I've got some news.
We're shutting the dig.
- You can't! - You won't.
I'm sorry, but we all have our limits.
We... have our duty.
You have your duty, I have my money.
I need to protect it.
- I'll go to the press. - And say what?
You know.
What, you think anything that happens
in this backwater is newsworthy?
You won't be able to set foot in the museum.
Ooh, I'll cry into my soup about that.
I'm sorry it's come to this.
I've had a blast, but let me be clear.
You will not set foot on that dig.
We'll go to Syria, darling.
There aren't any Americans there.
Hm.
Sir Constance will see you now.
Please do come in, come in.
You haven't unpacked?
Yes, I'm moving again.
Lucy would've enjoyed my improved circumstances.
I'm very sorry.
Her death must be a terrible shock.
Our relationship was more of a
more of a transaction than a love affair.
That doesn't preclude feeling.
No, you're right.
I have some upsetting news.
I wish there was a way of avoiding it.
Go on.
Lucy was stealing from the dig.
I should ask for proof but I imagine I'd be wasting time.
You don't strike me as someone who'd make a mistake like that.
I assume her death is connected?
It will need to be confirmed but I suspect, like Patrick
she was poisoned.
With strychnine.
Strychnine?
That rings a bell.
It's readily available as a pesticide but a poor choice
85 a murder weapon.
It's unsubtle.
Easy to detect.
It's much better to use selenium or ricin or arsenic
but procuring these in Iraq must be difficult.
No doubt you have oleander.
But someone thinking about using rat poison
likely wouldn't know Nerium from Olea europaea.
You know a lot about poisons.
Know the poison, know the killer.
Have you told the police?
I wanted to avoid alerting her co-conspirator.
Who is?
Marmaduke.
The man she was having an affair with.
You found out.
Process of elimination.
As much as I'd like to see Marmaduke disgraced
the British Museum pays handsomely for his artefacts.
Why rob Peter to pay Paul?
I assume the black market pays better.
- You assume? - I need proof.
What do you need me to do?
Arrange a meeting with him. At the dig.
Is there something you would like in return?
No. Justice for Lucy is enough.
But if you're right about Marmaduke
he's likely responsible for two murders
and one attempted murder.
What you're suggesting is dangerous.
Oh, I have no intention of confronting him on my own.
And you'll keep my name out of it?
Scandal is as good as death in my profession.
Of course.
You make sure to take someone you trust.
I'm packing.
Would you like me to help?
I'm very good at packing.
Is there anything you aren't good at?
Saying sorry.
I see.
Going somewhere?
You are a good detective.
You have a lot of books.
A regular dick.
I am sorry.
- For what? - For using you.
For what?
For...
- Sex? - Course not.
I understand.
- You used me for sex. - I would never...
Why not?
It's not what I want.
What do you want?
You.
Leonard asked me to go to Syria with him.
What's in Syria?
This. Minus the murder.
Hopefully.
I need your help.
You know who killed Lucy.
Yes.
Marmaduke.
You knew?
I told you I could do this.
But how?
- I followed the clues. - What clues'?
- I read between the lines. - What lines?
Really, it's not that difficult when you put your mind to it.
Tell me.
It's not funny.
Tell me.
Oh, you guessed!
You... bastard, you're as bad as my readers.
I still need your help.
Do we have to?
No, you don't: Have to do anything.
But you'll do it anyway?
Always.
It's best you know that now.
I can't let you onto the site.
I know. We need your help.
- With what? - Has Marmaduke arrived?
A short while ago.
- He's meeting Sir Constance. - Yes.
What does this have to do with you?
The meeting is with me.
Marmaduke is responsible for the thefts.
It's true.
- You have proof? - We're here to get it.
Well, you should inform the police.
- We will. - When we have proof.
Marmaduke?
It won't take long.
- Please? - I don't believe you.
- But please! - No.
Hey, hey, hey!
What are you doing here?
I'm waiting for Max.
The dig's shut.
Where is Ezekiel?
He's chasing Max.
- What are you talking about? - He's trying to stop us.
From doing what?
From talking to you.
Now that I've given up on the dig, I don't
need to be civil to you.
I suppose not.
Then fuck off.
Last chance.
Alright.
Did you know there's a test to indicate if a person
has recently handled strychnine?
What are you doing?
- You'll see. - What's wrong with you people?
We told you, it's Marmaduke!
Don't you think I know that?
Why didn't you say anything?
Because I'm trying to find out...
Are you up to something?
Is there someone else here?
A loaded gun.
No... No, no, no!
Someone else is involved...
You don't have to see this.
It's my mess! No.
It isn't.
Max.
It's Marmaduke.
How do you know?
What happened?
I heard an explosion, what was it?
Marmaduke has been killed. What are you doing here?
I can't remember.
One minute, I was in the lodge, the next...
Where did you get this?
I didn't, I've never seen it before.
Do you recognise this?
It's the tablet Patrick tried to give me when he died.
What's it doing here?
Being prepared for sale.
An export licence.
I can't read the signature but it looks legitimate.
Where did you get this?
Must've belonged to my attacker.
Surely if you can remember being attacked, you can recall
how you got here?
Pearl.
You're sure'?
You saw it?
And I shouldn't want to see it again.
It's true?
Yes, it's true.
The man has been blown to bits.
It's karma.
- It's murder! - And you found the culprit?
Another case solved.
I always thought Pearl was a suspicious name.
Louche, somehow.
Miss Theroux has been locked in her room.
Baghdad Police are due in the morning.
Pearl can't have done it.
Oh...
You always did have a soft spot for her.
I can think of someone else with a few soft spots.
Oh, very good, darling.
Do you think he'll come back as a monkey'?
I've had an idea.
I need you to cover up the sound of a gunshot.
What?
I had no idea rigor mortis was so... rigorous.
- Max... - On my mark.
Wait.
Mark.
Um...
Sit on the bed and put that away.
- Did I hear a gunshot? - Certainly not.
I had an accident.
A romantic accident.
Oh.
How did you know Marmaduke was stealing artefacts?
It's my job.
Why didn't you tell Leonard?
You think he's involved?
- Of course. - That's ridiculous!
You have proof?
I know where he hides them.
Where?
The British Museum.
I'm sorry we didn't tell you what we were doing.
I get paid to hollow out my country.
Don't stop me making amends.
The bullet from my head.
They're the same.
Marmaduke shot me because I found the stolen artefacts.
Lucy was his fence and he killed her
when she threatened to expose him.
However, he didn't share the profits with his partners
and when they found out, they blew him up.
What partners?
It's hard to say.
And Patrick Mulholland?
He found the stash before me.
Do your funders often do the digging themselves?
Well, no, but he must've discovered it another way.
Unless his murder had nothing to do with the thefts'?
And just the place to hide the body.
The tablet Pearl had, what is it'?
- It's a curse. - A curse?
Don't get your hopes up, it's Assyrian politics
- not Tutankhamun. - Where is it?
Ezekiel gave it to Leonard.
But it came from the other dig.
- Everything leads back there. - I should go back.
Don't worry. I'll be alright.
What will you do?
Find out what Pearl is hiding.
Um, aren't you forgetting something?
I thought you were locked up?
Ezekiel doesn't believe I had anything to do with this.
He wasn't going to let me hang for a crime I didn't commit.
Then why haven't you run away?
Because I don't want to hang for a crime I didn't commit.
You're very rational for a 24-year-old.
When I was your age, all I thought about
was finding a husband.
Thankfully, times have changed.
And perhaps if they hadn't, you wouldn't be in this mess.
Because marriage brings an end to trouble?
When I was 16, my father told me to avoid emotional attachment
until I was 25.
He said if I experienced love during those years
I'd always be chasing those feelings.
My father never had much time for advice.
He died when I was 11.
Did you listen to him?
I'm 25 in three months.
Imagine I found myself released from my father's charge
and rotting in a Baghdad jail.
I don't want that.
I discovered Lucy was stealing from the dig
and I realised I couldn't steal stolen goods.
I took them to learn, not sell.
It's the only way I could continue my studies
after Katharine out me out.
You found the secret tunnel?
I wasn't supposed to go to the dig.
Doesn't take long for a rat to find the rat-holes.
The Army of Eannatum.
One of the world's first empires.
Every item has an export licence.
How is that possible?
I don't know.
- Are they real? - Yes.
I thought, by taking these treasures
they'd be saved from some rich idiot's mantelpiece.
Instead I seem to have precipitated murder.
Actually, I think quite the opposite.
Well, haven't you ever heard of the healing power of laughter?
Does it have the capacity to bring back the dead?
Ahem. My apologies.
We were just blowing up a bit of steam.
I'm sorry...
But ifs not every day two of life's biggest problems
go up in smoke.
Two?
Marmaduke and the dig site.
The dig site?
- We'll be excavating in a week. - How so'?
It reverts.
Reverts to whom? You?
With Marmaduke dead.
His lease belongs to His Majesty's government.
And they'll let you carry on digging?
Well, I don't suppose they plan on opening a consulate.
I think Leonard and I need an early night.
All this laughing has a curious effect on me.
Do you have the artefact Pearl was trying to steal?
A trinket.
I heard it was a curse.
The curse of Ishtar.
I'd love to hear more about it. Unless it's
outside your area of expertise?
"My holy Ishtar..."
Your beauty, a sickly curse.
Spout black blood from an earth which is riven and pockmarked.
Let sour milk flow from manmade scales
which fight for balance but fail.
"Then decimate this unjust world."
I prefer the one where she lies in honey
and plays 50 rounds of over and under.
What is it about?
Betrayal.
Whose betrayal?
Dumuzid and Cody.
Think Brutus and Caesar.
You're alive!
Yes.
It's a construction site.
Everything's gone.
- But what are they building? - I've no idea.
They look like... giant flamingos.
How can you bulldoze 5,000 years of history?
Is any of this even connected?
The flamingos?
How did you know?
Can you get everyone to the dig before the police come
- to collect Pearl? - Yes.
And I won't even ask why.
I need to talk to Ezekiel.
What's she doing here?
What's he doing here?
Well...
This is a surprise.
Mrs Christie wants to talk to us.
It won't take long.
I thought you might like to settle things... privately.
Settle what?
For you, the ownership of this dig.
I explained that yesterday. It's ours.
Actually, you said it was the property
of His Majesty's government.
As I said, ours.
I'll have to excuse myself.
These are not discussions to have in public.
At least put this woman right before you go.
Yes, you wouldn't want this woman to pour oil on the fire.
Very well. Shall we?
Due to the circumstances surrounding the closure
of this dig, it has been determined
by His Majesty's government that our interests
are best served by granting the land lease to a third party.
A third party?
What are you talking about?
- Whose interests? - Our country's.
Our country needs this dig.
The history of Mesopotamia is the history of mankind.
If we don't own the world's culture
how can we be its centre?
And more importantly
what does this sandbank mean to anyone else?
Progress.
Which, as Sir Constance reminded me
is dependent on the actions of unreasonable men.
Men prepared to do whatever is necessary to achieve their goals
like murder.
I think you're confusing goals with duty
and sacrifice.
I think you're confusing duty and sacrifice with self-interest
and murder with something noble.
I always wondered how a middle-ranking diplomat
got knighted.
Would you like to explain?
Well, I'd be delighted to hear it myself.
Your dig... belongs
to the Iraq Petroleum Company.
Which in turn belongs to the British government.
In a short while, your excavations will be replaced
with pumpjacks and pipelines.
Instead of artefacts
oil will be coming from the ground.
I'm sorry you had to learn this way.
It's an unfortunate geographical reality.
Rest assured, there's a generous compensation scheme.
Which comes a little late for Patrick Mulholland.
He was your friend!
He was an obstacle.
The curse of Ishtar. You betrayed him!
He was trying to tell me.
The export “senses,
for the stolen artefacts.
The same scrawled signature
as Marmaduke's now defunct lease.
Yours, presumably.
Before a more lucrative revenue stream presented itself
you engaged Marmaduke to filter artefacts
and supply a steady stream to the black market.
You channelled the official paperwork through Lucy
who repaid your trust by starting up an affair
with your untamed peer.
You murdered your wife?
No, that was Marmaduke.
Lucy could implicate him.
And so he killed her with the same poison procured
for Patrick Mulholland.
This wasn't part of Sir Constance's plan.
He did leave you with a mess to clear up.
If blowing someone up in a confined space
counts as such.
You killed Ella.
No, the monkey found the poison in Marmaduke's room.
I assume you have the strychnine on your person.
One doesn't throw away usable ammunition.
Especially when expecting to meet an adversary alone.
Take a moment to consider your best interests.
Reinstating your dig is within my power.
I believe your eyes have turned to Syria.
That's Viscount Torrance, isn't it'? We're old friends.
The decisions I make are for a future you can't comprehend.
It is my duty to ensure that in 100 years
our great country is still great.
Which is laudable ambition for an opportunistic, petty thief.
I need to search you.
The museum will soon be in need of a new principal.
Sir Frederic can't go on forever.
My ambition begins and ends with the history
you're happy to sell to the highest bidder!
Very well.
There's no need for anything undignified.
I warned you.
That scandal was as good as death in my profession.
Do you have any idea what you've just done?
My duty.
You have about 15 minutes before the effects start to manifest.
I would advise leaving.
It won't be something easily forgotten.
Assuming that's poison and not water
I'll stay.
No man should die alone.
Everyone dies alone.
I'm not sure that's true.
Everyone dies with their conscience.
Do you like golf?
I hate it.
Why did you come here?
To research romance.
Did it work?
Yes.
What did you learn?
That it's outside my control.
So, I'm not an artefact
that can be dug up and studied?
Well, in a few thousand years.
What would they find?
- That you had a thick head. - Is that all?
A well-proportioned brain.
Stupid but pretty.
Just what I was aiming for.
That's the problem with archaeology.
It doesn't tell the whole story.
I'm sorry that Mr Hutchins is no longer with you.
The partners thought it best that he retire.
His tastes were
old-fashioned.
- He didn't like change. - So I heard.
I would ask for comments on my "passion project"
but perhaps we can avoid that dance.
We can.
As promised, the fat, little detective returns.
That's wonderful.
In addition to this, of course.
Your romance is..
It isn't romance.
- It isn't? - It's a story
about emotion which, unlike romance, exists.
I understand.
You'll publish it under the name of Mary Westmacott.
Oh, a nom de plume?
Very clever.
Keep the storytelling... separate.
Keep the talk of romance from damaging our bottom line.
After all, how can a woman who writes about
an asexual reasoning machine
address matters of the heart?
People would be terrified I might combine the two.
And I'm not sure that anyone would believe
that murder and love could exist side by side.