Murdoch Mysteries (2008–…): Season 3, Episode 10 - The Curse of Beaton Manor - full transcript

THUNDER RUMBLES

Blast.

Godfrey!

Godfrey!

Very sorry, sir.
The power seems to be out.

Yes, that's evident. Dreadful night.

Indeed. That will be all, Godfrey.

Of course, sir.

Damn it!

It can't be. Timothy?

Oh, dear God.
Please don't, I'm sorry.



I'm so very sorry, Timothy. Timothy!

DOOR OPENS

William! Hello. I came to
see that you were all right.

The electricity is out everywhere.
It's only darkness, William.

It's quite lovely, actually.

I never get to see the
city like this any more.

How was your day?

Fine.

And?

It was fine. And yours?

Also fine.

Sir. Doctor.

A rotten old night out there.
The rain's got the sewer blocked up,

there's rats as big as
pumpkins roaming the street.



What brings you here, George?
Sir, there's been a suspicious
death at Beaton Manor.

Well, Chauncey Beaton's neck was
broken. In two places, it feels like.

It appears he fell from that window.
Oh, that would do it.

Was it accidental then?
Or was it suicide? Or was he pushed?

I'll tell you what killed him.
It was this house.

What do you mean, ma'am? Claire.

I'll say it aloud,
what we've all said in whispers.

That house is cursed.
That house killed Master Chauncey.

What do you mean the house killed
him, ma'am? I mean it as I say it.

It is cursed by voodoo. Bad magic.
Very bad. That's enough, Claire.

Please go inside!

You have to excuse her,
she's very superstitious.

And you are? William Godfrey.

The butler. I found the body.

Mr Godfrey put the
call in to us, sir.

Ah, yes. You mentioned you thought
the death was suspicious.

What did you mean? I don't know.
I thought I saw something.

It may have been a trick of the mind.
What did you see?

As I was standing above
Mr Chauncey's body, I thought I
saw someone standing in that window.

My Lord, Sir.
He's still there. George.

Detective Murdoch, Toronto
Constabulary. Identify yourself.

Ronald Beaton.

Brother of the deceased.

I take it he is...

..deceased?

I'm sorry for your loss, Mr Beaton.

Where were you at the
time of the incident?

Strange question.

I had assumed
Chauncey killed himself.

Why assume that?

Suicide runs in the family.

Please, sir. Your whereabouts?

I was asleep. In my room.

Can anyone vouch for this?

I didn't push my brother
out of a window, detective.

The exertion would have
killed me first. How so?

I have a bad heart.

Two attacks already. The doctors
say the next will be my last.

What do the...

staff say it was?

They believe the house is cursed.

It's not the house.

This whole family is cursed.

Sir. We've had reports of...
Look at that!

Several witnesses report
hearing shouting just before
the victim fell, sir. Ah.

That must have been what awakened me.

George, gather all the staff and
residents in the drawing room.

Sir.

Who heard shouting in the moments
before Chauncey Beaton fell?

And who was shouting?
Master Chauncey.

What was he saying? He was
shouting master Timothy's name.

That would be our half-brother.

And where is he?

In that jar on the mantel.

His ashes.

He killed himself last February.

Ah, yes,
I believe that was in the papers.

My condolences.
There are just two of us now.

Yourself and...? Byron. My husband.

He should be home shortly.

Why would your brother Chauncey be
shouting your dead brother's name?

Perhaps he felt guilty.
Guilty for what?

Byron, it's awful.

So it's true, then? Chauncey's dead?

This is Detective Murdoch.

A detective? I'm sorry to ask
at this time, sir, but where were
you this evening at 8 o'clock?

On my way to meet
a business acquaintance.

They can confirm this?

Actually, no. He never arrived.

It's not surprising
on a night like...

You're not suggesting that
I had anything to do...

For God's sakes, man, it was
a suicide! Who told you that?

I just assumed.

It's the curse. Who said that?

The next person to breathe that word
will be in a boat back to Haiti.
Is that understood?

No more of this mumbo-jumbo
about voodoo and ghosts.

If you'll excuse me,
I have to change out of these
damp clothes. A word, Mr Beaton.

George, I want statements from
everyone here, please. Sir.

My apologies for that
outburst, Detective.

These people cling to
the same superstitions

their ancestors brought from Africa.

It's a bloody disgrace.

Sir, would you assume that
your brother committed suicide?

Chauncey was a troubled soul.

Was his soul troubled by the
suicide of your brother, Timothy?

Chauncey was heard yelling
Timothy's name shortly before
he fell to his death.

Ah, yes.

Chauncey never got over it.
None of us have.

My poor wife, she found Timothy's
body in the pool, you know.

We were all devastated.

Did Chauncey feel guilt
over Timothy's death?

I suppose we all did.

Before Timothy did himself in,
he wrote letters to each of us,

detailing the wrongs we'd
committed against him and his mother.

Are these...? Death masks, yes.

A Beaton tradition.

Death becomes us, you might say.

I see. And what of these wrongs
that Timothy wrote about?

Did you ever meet Timothy? No.

This was his final portrait.

Yes, he was a mulatto.

After our mother died, father took up
with a member of the household staff.

And Timothy was the
product of that union?

My brothers and I didn't take well
to having a brown bastard sharing
our name, as you might imagine.

Why would I imagine that, sir?

We treated him rather badly.

His mother too, I'm afraid.
And where is she?

Chante died last
year of pneumonia.

Timothy blamed me for that.

Apparently the doctor
I brought in was inadequate.

And what wrongs had
Chauncey committed?

They quarrelled the
night before he died.

His last words to Timothy were harsh.

I know
Chauncey felt terrible about it.

Enough for Chauncey
to take his own life?

Perhaps something about these walls

drives men to madness.

That's rubbish.
You're telling me that this Chauncey

calls his brother Timothy a few
names, then feels so bad that
he throws himself out of a window?

Sir, Timothy Beaton
did kill himself.

Possibly as a result
of that quarrel.

Perhaps it was too much for
Chauncey to bear. Six months later?

I understand regrets, Murdoch -
I've had a few myself, but...

I agree, it seems somewhat unlikely.

But Chauncey was heard calling
Timothy's name as he fell.

Perhaps he was announcing his
imminent arrival in the afterlife.

I don't know, perhaps there is
something to this curse business.
Curse?

Yes, Beaton Manor
is said to be cursed.

Ah, well, that's it then.
Good work, Crabtree. A curse.

Of course! Bloody hell.

Clearly we need to know
more about this family.

George, find out everything you can
about the Beatons. Right away, sir.

And the curse as well. But that's
not to be your focus, George.

Sir. You're just encouraging him,
you know.

Superstition has been used
to cover up murder in the past.

Perhaps someone is doing that now.

Chauncey Beaton's skull was shattered
in the fall, and his neck was indeed
broken. He could have died on impact.

Could have? It wasn't
necessarily the fall that killed him.

In the seconds before, he
suffered a massive heart attack.

But to fall out of a window, surely
a heart attack would have dropped
him right there on the floor.

Yes, unlikely he'd think to step
onto a window ledge. Point taken.

Any idea what could cause
a heart attack in a man
barely 30 years of age?

A number of things really.
Birth defects, week arteries.

Extreme shock. Like an attack
by an assailant intent on murder?

Perhaps.

Did you know them at all,
the Beatons? Not well.

I met Timothy on a
number of social occasions.

He was a sweet man.
A bit tormented, I sensed.

You're aware he committed suicide?
Yes. Do you have any idea why?

It was rumoured that the woman he
loved married one of his brothers.

Byron, I believe.

What have you learnt, George?
Quite a lot, actually, sir.

Would you like to ask me
questions, or shall I regale you?

I sense you are in a regaling mood.

You would be correct. So, the
Beatons are not actually Beatons.

Their original family
name was Beton. French?

Then Haitian.

They held large plantations
in what was then Saint Dominique.

They fled during
the slave rebellion in 1791,
but couldn't go back to France

because they were still lopping off
heads there, so they came to Canada.

I understand they made the fortune
in rubber trees? That's right, sir.

They purchased large holdings in the
Congo just before the rubber boom.

Not so cursed after all.
Sir, I believe they are cursed.

Over the last century,
only a single Beaton man has ever
survived past the age of 50.

Really? How did they die?

Seven sudden deaths, probably
heart attacks, five suicides

and three accidental deaths,
two of which involved a horse.

Or horses. If that's not
cursed, I don't know what is.

I suspect this curse is nothing
more than bad luck coupled with

the melancholy of having too much
money and too little purpose.

Who was the one lucky survivor?

Henry Beaton, the father
of the four brothers.

He died at the age of 60,
three years ago, from a...

Heart attack? Most likely, sir.

Does it strike you as odd that the
brothers all lived at Beaton Manor?

Odd indeed, sir. Peculiar, even.

What have we here?

I would have spoken
to you last night.

I meant to, but after Master
Byron's outburst I felt that...

Say what you came to say,
Mr Godfrey.

Well, how does one say such a
thing without being judged insane?

I promise no such judgment.

Over the last two weeks,

my niece Claire and other members
of my staff have reported seeing

an apparition wandering
through the halls of Beaton Manor.

A ghost?

I dismissed this, of course,
until last night.

After you left, I saw him myself.

It was the man
I'd seen in the tower window
just after Master Chauncey died.

Did you recognise this man?

As God is my witness,
Sir, it was Timothy Beaton.

Who here believes they have seen
the ghost of Timothy Beaton?

No-one?

You can all rest assured that
no matter what you say here,

your jobs are safe.
Isn't that right, Mr Beaton?

Yes, of course. So I'll ask again.

Who here has seen this ghost?

Last week in the east wing.

He had on the clothes he was wearing
when they pulled him from the pool.

We've heard footsteps too.
But there's never anybody there.
This is absurd.

Ghosts don't exist.
How do you know that, Byron?

Don't souls arise from their bodies?
They don't linger, Ronald.
Maybe some do.

The tormented souls.

With unfinished business,

like vengeance for wrongs done.
You've been drinking.

With good reason. Did we not
deny Timothy his blood right?

Did we not hound his mother
to an early grave?
Not in front of the staff!

Did you not steal
the only woman he ever loved?
And drive him to take his own life?

WOMAN CRIES

How dare you! Gentleman.

If I were Timothy, I'd find
my way back to us if I had to
pass through hell to do it.

George, I want a record of every
sighting. Who, what, where and when.

Sir.

Mrs Beaton.

Thank you.

I understand you were
once courted by Timothy.

Everything Ronald said is true.

Timothy killed himself
because of me.

You can't possibly know that. No?

He wrote a letter the day
he died telling me as much.

I searched for him.

I was frantic.

Yes, your husband
mentioned you found the body.

Timothy was at the bottom
of the courtyard pool.

He'd tied a sack of
rocks about his waist.

He'd had to smash through the
eyes with a sledgehammer to do it.

Mrs Beaton, if you don't mind, who
signed Timothy's death certificate?

Dr Gladsford?
He's highly reputable, William.

I was just wondering if he may
have been hasty in his conclusions.

You think Timothy Beaton's
still alive?

I'm asking if it's possible.

It would explain why
people keep seeing him.

Unless he really is a ghost.

Julia.

William.

I have Dr Gladsford's report here.

If you wouldn't mind.

Well, there were no vital signs.

No heart beat or breathing.
His skin was cold to the touch.

These observations were taken
a full hour after Timothy
was pulled from the water.

I wouldn't call this hasty.

So the report is unassailable?

Given these facts, I would
have drawn the same conclusion.

Timothy Beaton is dead, William.

Whatever's stalking the halls
of the manor, it isn't him.

So, you're from Haiti then? No.

Master Timothy used to take us there.

He said it was our
family's true home.

Family?
So you and Timothy were related?

He was my cousin's son, you know.

Her name was Chante.

Ma'am, forgive me for asking,

but if the Beaton family
mistreated Timothy and your cousin,
why did you stay on?

Well, despite everything,
they loved the manor house.

It's where they belonged.

It's where I belong.

So someone's being impersonating
Timothy Beaton's ghost?

There's no other explanation, sir.
Pardon me, sirs, but there is.

Perhaps it's time to
consider the unthinkable.

That Timothy Beaton's ghost
is wandering Beaton Manor.

I know how that sounds, but what do
we really know about the afterlife?

People say there's a heaven,
but nobody's ever seen it.

People have seen ghosts.

And not just at Beaton Manor.
My Aunt Primrose saw
the ghost of my uncle...

Not your bloody aunts again.
This constabulary will not
go chasing after goblins!

Not goblins, sir.

Goblins are small gnomish
creatures that dwell deep within...

Whatever our beliefs or disbeliefs,
something happened at Beaton Manor.

Now, George, you've made a
list of the occurrences? Sir.

Sightings in red, audible events,

footsteps and what not,
marked in blue.

Each numbered in chronological order
beginning with November 8th.

This all started 10 days ago?
Yes. Always at night.

Usually between midnight and 3am.

Nine incidents? That's one per night.

Right. We're going to be
spending a night at the manor.

Sir. If there is a ghost,
I want it haunting my jail cell.

Understand?

You'll be fine, George.

I appreciate that you're conducting
an investigation, Detective.

But the hour is late.

Both of the masters of
the house are asleep.

It's not our intention to
disturb them. Very well, then.

I'll be in the servants'
quarters if you require anything.

Thank you. Goodnight.

Right then, George, you
and Higgins take the east wing,

the inspector and I
will take the west wing and
we'll reconvene here in the morning.

Keep the chat down. We don't
want to scare the ghost away.

Oh, sir, I suspect the
reverse is more likely.

Just get to it, Crabtree.

He's still watching us.

Yes.

It's quite unnerving.

Six months after my Uncle Percy
died, my Aunt Primrose awake to find
him standing at the foot of the bed.

Maybe she was still dreaming.

I once awoke to find
a group of dwarfs staring
down at me, and I was terrified.

I must admit I find them
a bit unnerving myself.

Anyways, once I awoke fully,
I realised there was nothing
but piles of clothing.

I appreciate your point, Higgins,
but my aunt wasn't dreaming.

When Uncle Percy turned around,
she saw a slit down
the middle of his jacket.

So?
So, it turns out my Uncle Percy had
put on a few pounds before he died.

The undertaker had to cut
his jacket to fit him into it.

The thing is,
my aunt didn't know that.

Really?
God's truth.

That is spooky.

If you want spooky, I've been
reading about this Haitian voodoo.

They have creatures called zombies.
They're the living dead.

How can they be alive and dead?

What is it, sir?

I hear footsteps.
DISTANT FOOTSTEPS

Coming from up ahead.

Whoever it was must have
gone into one of these rooms.

Empty. The same.

Bloody hell. Maybe there is a ghost.

Sir, you don't really
believe that, do you?

I grew up near the Yorkshire moors.
There's more ghosts than sheep.

I don't believe in ghosts per se,
but who's to say what goes on?

Oh, the George Crabtree philosophy.
Very funny, Murdoch.

More footsteps, sir.

Coming from behind us.

Mr Godfrey.

I'm going to bed shortly.

Is there anything you require? No,
thank you, Mr Godfrey. Good night.

Did you just shiver? Yes.

They say that when you shiver
suddenly, it means a ghost just
passed through you.

How do they know that?

I don't know.

Sounds speculative.

Perhaps.

DISTANT BANGING
What was that?

It came from...

This is the room
Chauncey Beaton fell from.

Who's there?

Show yourself!

CAT SQUEALS

It's just a cat, Crabtree.

In Haiti,
black cats have a certain...

dark magic about them.
Mojo, I believe it's called. Mojo.

I don't like the sound of that.

It's nothing. They have these
dolls that you stick pins into.
CREAKING

What's with these windows?

That's him! That's the ghost.

There he goes.

Where did he go?

Higgins, fetched Detective Murdoch.

By myself, George?

Just go.

This ghost impersonator escaped
out the window, right, Murdoch?

Sir, it's three storeys
straight down.

A man doesn't simply
disappear, George.

Yes, but if it's not a man...

Perhaps he went into his death mask.

Perhaps you're right, Higgins,
perhaps this is where
his soul resides.

YELLING
Bloody hell, it's back there.

You two stay here. Keep an eye open.

Well?

He's dead, sir.

Murdoch. What in God's name
is going on in this house?

How did this happen?
Right under our very noses?

Sir, we don't know what happened.

For all we know, Ronald
Beaton died of natural causes.

You don't believe that, do you?

I can't say that I do, sir.

Right, theories. Facts, sir.

Three of the four Beaton brothers
have died in the last six months,

two within the last three days.
All heirs to a fortune.

With just one brother left standing.

Let's get Byron Beaton in.

Yes, sir.

Who's that, sir?

The Beaton family lawyer.
I thought I'd have a chat.

Very good.

It's an unusual will,

in that the estate in its entirety

was passed on to all four sons
in the form of a joint tenancy.

What's that? Well, Inspector,

it's a form of estate
common to married couples.

Upon the death of one, it
automatically passes to the other.

Except in this case it passes
to the surviving brothers.

Very good.

Why would old man Beaton
do it like that? Two reasons.

One is Beaton Manor itself.

The house and the property alone
are worth close to $60,000, and that
is not counting the furnishings.

Right. You can't divide up
a property like that.

Well, you could if you sold it,
but then it would no longer be
Beaton Manor, would it, Inspector?

I suppose not, Mr Ailmer.
What is the second reason?

There was a concern expressed
by one of the siblings

that the youngest son,
the um...mulatto...

Timothy. That Timothy
intended to bequeath

his portion
to the household servants,

which might be fine
if he were the last to survive.

But I trust you can see
the implications if he wasn't.
I'll do my best.

Which brother expressed this concern?

The eldest, Byron.

You're aware you stand to
inherit the entire Beaton fortune.

Of course I'm aware.
I'm not an idiot.

Wasn't it at your urging
that the estate be bequeathed
as a joint tenancy?

That was to prevent Timothy from
making a mockery of the Beaton name.

He despised us. Even his suicide
was an act of hatred.

I'm not convinced it was a suicide.

I beg your pardon?

Anyone could have tied
the weights around his waist,

broken through the ice.

For all I know he was dead already.

You're suggesting I killed Timothy.

No, I'm suggesting you killed
all three of your brothers.

One by one.

I'm sorry.

This line of questioning
is too offensive to continue.

You have no alibi
for Chauncey's murder.

What about Ronald's death?

I was sleeping in my bed.

I assume your wife
can attest to this.

No, I'm afraid I can't.

Last night we
went to sleep together, but...

He snores. I asked him to sleep
in the guest room next to ours.

But I can assure you, he was
in that room when Ronald died.

How can you be certain?

When I awoke to Ronald's screams,
I went into the hall to investigate.

Byron's door was still locked.

He didn't come out
into the hall as well?

He sleeps soundly.

But he did emerge when Godfrey
pounded on the door to awaken him.

You say you awoke to the
sound of Ronald screaming.

That's right.

From the time you heard the screams
to the time you exited into
the hall, how much time had elapsed?

Two minutes. At the most.

In two minutes, Byron would have
had to travel from where he was

in the west wing all the way
to the room that he slept in on
the second floor. I've paced it out.

How long did it take you?
Just under a minute.

You could've covered
that distance in half the time.
What if he encountered someone?

People heard Ronald scream.
They were coming out of their rooms.

Yes, that is a problem.
But it is possible in theory.

Sir, surely the ghost was
instrumental in Mr Beaton's death.

It was, George. What?
But the ghost was Timothy.

I saw it. It looked right at me.

I believe the ghost was Byron.

And I intend to demonstrate
how he did it.

William.

Come in, come in.
I see you've completed the mould.

Latex rubber, you say?

Yes. Recent additives have
made it pliable and strong.

The process would have been familiar
to a rubber magnet like Byron.

Speaking of, I have completed
the post mortem on young Ronald.

Heart attack? Massive.

Almost goes without saying.

Very good, William.

You'll need to shade
in the eyebrows and so forth.

Colour the skin.

Yes, I'll need to cut holes
for the eyes and nostrils.

Wouldn't there be a gap between the
mask and the skin around the eyes?

I believe that
Byron glued the mask to his face.

Try it on. Oh, I...

All right.

William, you are a sport.

By the way, there's a lecture tonight
on the Michaels and Morley
experiment. Seven o'clock.

Ah, yes. I'd love to, but...

Yes, I know, it's last minute.

But I'll drop by anyway.
If you're free, we can go.

Murdoch, I've been thinking...
Bloody hell.

Good God, man. It's quite effective.

Is this how Byron did it, then? Yes.

The mask would need a few more
details, but I believe so, yes.

All you have to do
now is find that mask.

Is this absolutely necessary?

I'm afraid it is, Mr Godfrey.

Stop this! Stop this now!

Not until we find what
we are looking for.

By whose authority?

We found nothing, sir.

I'll have your badge, Murdoch.

Ah, yes.
Just give me a moment, Mr Beaton.

You've checked everywhere, George?

Sir. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall.

Then it must be behind the walls.

Behind, sir? Think, George.

This so-called ghost you followed,
he didn't simply disappear.

He had to have some means
of escaping undetected.

Isn't that right, Mr Beaton? I don't
know what you're talking about.

There are secret passageways
throughout this house,
are there not? Fine.

George, please, fetched a crowbar.
I won't have you destroy my house!

Then tell me where the entrance
to the passageway is.

George, fetch the lanterns, please.

After you, Mr Godfrey. Sir?

Go ahead.

Do these passageways go
throughout the whole house? Yes.

Emory Beaton and his family escaped
with their lives through secret
passageways built in the house

during the slave rebellions
in San Dominique.

Advantageous to have a ready escape
in the event your slaves
rise up against you.

This must be where the foot falls
you heard last night came from.

Yes, George. I believe we
heard Byron on his way to make his
ghostly appearance to you and Henry.

I'm sure you're mistaken, sir.

Careful here.
Some of these boards are loose.

George.

Sir, that must be the
mask the killer used.

Yes, George.

Arrest Byron Beaton.

What are you thinking, sir?

This is a quality piece of work,
very detailed.

Even sewn the eyebrows.

What have they used for the eyes,
stained glass?

Easier to see through, I suppose.
Why not just cut out the eyeholes?

He would have needed glue then
to hold the mask on.
Not enough time, I suppose.

Well, congratulations, Murdoch.

Another one solved.

Perhaps. Perhaps?
Perhaps? What does that mean?

Sir,
this mask could hang Byron Beaton.

Why did he not just throw it in the
fire when he returned to his room?

He couldn't have expected us to
find it in the secret passageway.

But then why appear to you
and Higgins as Timothy's ghost?

What was to be gained from that?
You're over-thinking this, Murdoch.

No, sir, I don't believe I am.

The killer wanted us to find
those passageways and the mask.

Why? Because it explains the
appearance of Timothy's ghost

and points the finger directly at
Byron as the killer. A frame up?

Possibly.

Then if it wasn't Byron,
who else could it have been?

Who first introduced us
to the notion of a ghost?

Godfrey.

Yes, but he was disingenuous about
it - even dismissing his niece,
Claire, for being superstitious.

But why? What did he
have against the brothers?

Did you say Claire was his niece?
Yes.

Claire told me she and Timothy's
mother, Chante, were cousins.

They were?

But if they were cousins,
and Claire is Godfrey's niece...

You're mad!
Why would I impersonate a ghost?

Vengeance, Mr Godfrey.

Did you murder Chauncey Beaton? Did
you frighten Ronald Beaton to death?

For what reason?! The Beatons
have always been good to me.

But they treated Timothy badly.

They treated his mother even worse.

And what concern
would that be to me?

Because your daughter
was Timothy's mother.

Which means Timothy
was your grandson.

Yes.

But I swear to you,

I wasn't the one wearing that mask.

I didn't kill anyone. Mr Godfrey...

I didn't kill anyone!

We encountered Godfrey here, 1.14am.

George and Henry found the ghost
here at 1.20am.

Which gave him six minutes to change
into Timothy's clothes and scare the
bejesus out of Crabtree and Higgins.

It's tight, Murdoch.

And he's not a young man. No.

Sirs? Yes, George?

Bad news, I'm afraid. No less
than three maids swear they saw

Godfrey come out of his room moments
after Ronald's screams were heard.

Out of his room? You're sure? Sir.

That's down in the
servant's quarters.

A man can't be in two
places at once, Murdoch.

So, what's your theory now?

Murdoch? Murdoch!

Sir.

George, you said the ghost looked
directly at you. That's right.

Gentlemen, I believe we have
to return to Beaton Manor.

And this is exactly as you saw him?

Um, yes... But?

Well, it's hard to explain, sir.

The ghost looked at me. And these
eyes stare straight ahead. Exactly.

Now you're saying that the
killer never wore a mask?

That's right, sir. Because he
couldn't look Crabtree in the eye?

Sir, eye contact is unmistakable.

It's powerful. One can always tell
when someone is looking at them.

But only seeing eyes
are capable of this.

The eyes of the mask are dead,
they don't connect.

So, Timothy did it.

Except that he's good and dead, so
it was either his ghost or his twin,

which he didn't have,
so we're back to the ghost.

Or perhaps it was his zombie.

It wasn't his bloody zombie, either.
What is a zombie, anyway?

Sir, it is a man who wakes from the
dead after a certain voodoo spell.

And did he reconstitute himself
from his burnt ashes, as well?

George, where did you
learn about these zombies?

From my readings, sir.
But the maid, Claire,

knows more about them than I do.

Readings?

I don't know much
about it, Mr Murdoch.

I stay away from that kind of magic.

Tell me what you do know,
Miss Claire.

The bokor, he's a magic man.

A sorcerer.

He rubs some kind of magic powder
into you and it kills you dead.

But you don't stay dead.

When you wake up,
your soul is gone and it stays gone.

That's all I know.

It's a shame Master Timmy's dead,
he could have told you everything.

He knew about this? Every time
we'd go to Haiti, he'd go to bokors
to learn their secrets.

I think he wanted
to be a bokor himself,

turn his brothers into zombies.

A powder? What sort of powder?

All I know is that when taken into
the body the poison induces
a death-like trance,

from which the person
eventually awakens.

And you think Timothy
could have taken this powder
to fake his own death?

Yes. Do you think it's possible?

William, I haven't
even had my morning tea.

Yes, I'm aware of that, but...

Well,
I suppose it's possible in theory.

The poison of the puffer fish
can paralyse the diaphragm

and slow the heart rate
to almost zero.

The puffer fish is
from the Caribbean?

I believe so.

Could this poison have
constituted the bokor's powder?

I suppose, it's possible.

But you can't slow the body's heart
rate down without consequences.

The brain requires
a constant flow of oxygen -

or tea!

The maid also said that
when these zombies awoke,
their souls were gone.

Perhaps what they perceive as a lack
of a soul is actually brain damage.

Could this be done without
suffering such damage?

Well, you'd have to slow
the body's metabolic function.

To do that you'd need to cool
the body to just above freezing.

By plunging it into a
frozen pool in February.

Puffer fish? There's a
fish that's actually called puffer?

Yes, sir. The effects of the fish's
poison last approximately 12 hours,

long enough to get a declaration
of death and to make a death mask.

How did Timothy avoid being cremated?

I suppose he snuck out of the casket
when he was sure no one was around.

Would have been some trick to find a
stiff for the coffin before it went
up in smoke. Not for a man of means.

Cadavers have been bought
and sold in the past.

He couldn't have done
all this by himself. No.

I believe he had an accomplice. Who?

I've given this some thought, sir.

Timothy may be alive,
but he can't very well
collect on his inheritance. No.

It all goes to Byron at this point.
That's right.

And if Byron is to hang, then who
would collect once he was dead?

The wifey. That's right.

The same woman who
discovered Timothy's body.

The same woman who was once courted
by Timothy.

Oh, that should be the last of it.

Going on a trip, Mrs Beaton?

Yes, Detective.

I'm going to Montreal for...

well, I don't know how long.

I just know that if I stay in
this house another day, I'll go mad.

Yes, I understand. Bad memories.

My husband murdered
his own brothers.

What could make him do such a thing?

There must be some kind of evil
in these walls.

Is this a permanent move, then?

I don't know.
And what of the estate?

Let the lawyers have it.

I want nothing to do with it.

As far as I'm concerned,
it is all cursed.

Good day, Detective.

Good day, Mrs Beaton.

Sir, you're not just
going to let her leave?

She's not leaving us, George,

she's leading us.

Won't be long, Tom.

Hello.
Good day, sir. How can I help you?

I'm looking for a Rowena Beaton.
I'm told she's staying here.

Yes, but I didn't know
she was expecting visitors.

Let me call for her.

Rowena?

A gentleman is here to see you.

And your name, sir? Aldington Bird.

Pleasure to meet you, Mr Bird.

The same. And you are?

Detective William Murdoch...

..of the Toronto Constabulary.

Damn you.

It was all a sham, then?

Every caress,
every sigh of affection.

I'm afraid so. Rowena was a willing
pawn in your brother's revenge.

Whatever compassion she had for
you was subverted by her desire to
be with Timothy. It was my fault.

Would it have been so hard
to treat him with respect?

It's something to contemplate.

It actually felt triumphant
when I stole Rowena from him -

or thought I had.

Shameful. I've deserved this.

Begging your pardon,
sir, no one deserved this.

What would they have
done with the estate?

I suppose sell off Beaton Manor.

Hmm. Should probably sell it
myself, but who would want it?

A cursed house of a cursed family.

An all-too-human curse.

No ghosts, no magic.

I suppose you're right.

Dwelling on it is not worth it.

Perhaps I'll open
our doors to the public.

People love these so-called
haunted houses. An intriguing idea.

I might haunt it when I die.

Which, given my family history,
could be any day now.

That was a joke, Detective.

Glad to hear it.

Well, thank you for everything.

Good day, Mr Beaton.

And, superstition be damned,
good luck.

HE STRAINS

Mr Beaton?

Mr Beaton!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd