All language subtitles for S01E06 Ruddy Gore

Yes, Uncle.

(APPLAUSE)

(SIGHS)

Did you see him?

He was mugging upstage.
If he tries that tonight...

They don't appreciate a true artist,
Mr. Copland.

Do you smell that?

Like flowers.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)
(CRACKLING)

Dorothea?

It can't be.

No.

Stay away.

(THEME MUSIC)

(UPBEAT JAZZ)

I shouldn't be long.

Do you want to come in?
Oh, it's him.

Dot?

Yes?

I'll see you inside.
Mm-hm.

MAN: A bit of grease paint
will cover it, sir.

But you must hurry.
The curtain goes up in 20 minutes.

I'm sorry. I'm fine.
Don't fuss, I'm fine.

Thank you, Lin. I'm in your debt.
As am I.

No. Please, happy to be of service.

Phryne.

“She hangs upon the cheek of night

“like a rich jewel
in an Ethiope's ear.”

You're a little old for Romeo, Bart.

Nonsense.

Henry Irving was 45
when he played Romeo at the Lyceum.

Besides, with you as my Juliet...

...age is immaterial.

Miss Phryne Fisher,
may I present Lin Chung.

Mr. Lin.

He was kind enough to come
to the aid of our leading man

who was set upon by thugs
outside the theatre.

I'm sure anyone
would have done the same.

A pleasure to meet you, Miss Fisher.

Good luck with the show.

You're looking ravishing as always,
dear girl.

You haven't changed a bit.
(CHUCKLES)

Hurry, Miss Leila.
15 minutes and counting.

Chookas, Mr. Tarrant.
Love the dress!

(LAUGHS)

Unless you want me
to miss the curtain,

you'll have to tell me
why you invited me.

Quite right.

Tell me, Phryne, are they true,
the rumours about you?

Usually, I'm afraid.

So you're a detective?
That too.

I should have guessed free theatre
tickets would come with a price tag.

We have a ghost.

A ghost?

It's not just any ghost.

It's Dorothea Curtis.

I've heard that name.

Dorothea was a promising soprano
who died 20 years ago.

The last role she ever played
was Rosie in 'Ruddigore'

in this theatre.

She died at her own hand
on opening night.

I found her in the dressing-room.

She'd stabbed herself
through the heart.

That's unusual.

She was an actress.

If one has to play out
a death scene,

Juliet's the classic choice.

MAN: Mr. Tarrant, five-minute call.
Break a leg.

(SIGHS)

Bart...

...I may have a reputation
for taking on difficult cases,

but even I can't fix a ghost.

All this talk of spectres will pass
as soon as the curtain rises.

Trust me.

I can't believe
we're sitting so close.

Close enough to get a good look
at the handsome Gwilym Evans.

Is he handsome?

You hadn't noticed?

It's his talent I admire.

Which I'm sure is formidable.

If you want some advice,

I'd hide your admiration
of Mr. Gwilym Evans's talents

when your constable arrives.

Hugh's coming?

It was a surprise for your birthday.
I thought you'd be pleased.

Sorry I'm late.

Constable Collins asked me
to send you his apologies.

His football game ended in a brawl.

He ended up arresting
half the opposing team.

I didn't pick you as
a Gilbert and Sullivan fan, Inspector.

Constable Collins
neglected to mention

the tickets were for an operetta.

A pleasant surprise, then.

One for which he will most definitely
pay the price.

(ORCHESTRA PLAYS)
(APPLAUSE)

Perfect as always, pumpkin.

(KISSES)

Evans.

Well, the house is full to bursting.

Break a leg.
Indeed.

And I'll break yours
if you upstage me tonight.

This costume is not right. Hansen.

Parbuckle me, if you ain't
the loveliest gal I ever set eyes on.

There — I can't say fairer
than that, can I?

No.

The question is,

is it meet that a total stranger
should thus express himself?

Now he's in love with her?

But they've only just met.

Where's your sense of romance, Jack?

(ALL SING) ♪ In sailing o'er
life's ocean wide

♪ Your heart should be
your only guide

♪ With summer sea and favouring wind

♪ Yourself in port
you're sure to find

♪ My heart says
you're the prosperous lot

♪ With acres wide

♪ You mean to settle all you've got

♪ Upon your bride... ♪

♪ Take my hand, sir... ♪
Ahh!

So, now she's getting engaged
to the other one?

(GROANS)
♪ This heart of mine... ♪

Shh!

♪ In sailing o'er life's ocean wide

♪ No doubt your heart
should be your guide

♪ But it is awkward when you find

♪ A heart, a heart
that does not know its mind

♪ A heart that does not know
its mind

♪ A heart, a heart
that does not know its mind. ♪

(MUSIC ENDS)

Is that what you call
a modern interpretation?

No.

Walter Copland looked like
he was dying on stage.

Absolutely.
Gwilym Evans should be the lead.

Phryne, come quickly.

Do you think anyone noticed
we went off-book?

Interval did come a tad early.

How's the patient?

LEILA: Can't someone
just give Walter a tonic?

Is this a usual occurrence?

Mr. Copland?
There's a doctor down the lane.

If Copland isn't up for it,
I know his part, I'm happy to step up.

And who plays Richard?

Bradford knows all the parts.
But...

He may not be much to look at

but he can sing a damn sight better
than Copland.

That's just for rehearsals, sir.
I couldn't step out on the stage.

Nonsense. This is an emergency.

Look at him.
He's three sheets to the wind.

Is he?

You can hold off on that doctor.

Looks like your man's dead.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

Any enemies?

Surely you don't suspect murder!

We won't know
until we get the autopsy,

but contracted pupils, sudden coma

could indicate poison.

If the press get hold of this,
I'm ruined.

Are you alright?
I'm perfectly fine.

JACK: Thank you once again
for the theatre tickets.

It seems we won't be seeing
the second act.

It's a murder, Jack. Surely you don't
expect me to just walk out.

One can only hope.

I need to look after
the interests of my client.

Mr. Tarrant employed me this evening

to, uh...look into some strange
occurrences in the theatre.

I engaged Miss Fisher
right before the curtain went up.

How convenient.

I know this is a terrible time
for everyone.

Just ghastly.

Not now. Gwilym!

It's just...don't you think Bradford
should get Walter's costume back

before they remove the body?

Whoever replaces him will need it.

Actors, Jack.

You need somebody who understands
their language.

And I speak fluent thespian.
Ah.

I'll stumble through.
Thanks all the same.

(WOMEN CHATTER SOFTLY)

Come on, ladies,
stand by in the wings, please.

Not quite the birthday celebration
I had planned for you, Dot.

Not to worry, Miss.

Hardly your fault
that poor man died.

EVANS: I saved your show tonight.
You owe me.

I'll decide in the morning.

I'm sorry, in all the ruction
we haven't yet had the pleasure.

No, we haven't.

I'm Gwilym Evans.
Phryne Fisher, Mr. Evans.

There were some questions
I was hoping I might ask you.

Anything to help a lady.

(CLEARS THROAT)

But first, may I present Miss Williams?

She's a great admirer
of your talents.

(CHUCKLES)
Charmed.

Do you think I might have
an autograph?

Dressing-room.
Yes, sir.

Oh, it's...it's for my mother.

Her name is Dot.

(CLEARS THROAT)
Mr. Evans, shall we?

I was going to have a word
to Miss Fisher.

Oh, Miss Fisher has to leave.

Did you see him?

He spoke to me...in that voice.

His eyes...
May I?

Hmm. Different hand.

Sorry, Miss?

I said Gwilym Evans
has a lovely hand.

I've heard talk of young ladies
being snatched

from around here, Miss.

You mustn't believe everything
you read in the 'Argus', Dot.

There's absolutely nothing to be...

(MAN SHOUTS)
(THUMP!)

...afraid of.

(MEN GRUNT AND SHOUT)

That's just rude.

I do approve of a man who can fight

and still maintain
his sartorial elegance.

Shall we?

Come along, Dot.
Miss?

Miss.

(SPEAKS MANDARIN)

(SPEAKS MANDARIN)

(SPEAKS MANDARIN)

I am sorry. She wants to protect me
from the decadence of the West.

A losing battle, I'm guessing.
(CHUCKLES)

Dot, try one of these.

Your skills with the chopsticks
are very impressive.

So are your fighting skills.

Sometimes in my business
it is necessary to employ them.

And your business is?

I'm an importer.

May I ask what you import?

Silk.

I didn't realise the silk business
was so dangerous.

Two fights in one evening.
Welcome to Chinatown.

There are those few here
who would rather rob their own kind

than make an honest living.

So that's what the skirmish
was about,

an attempt to rob you?

(SPEAKS MANDARIN)

And what, may I ask, were you doing
in the laneways at this hour?

I'm always interested when somebody
avoids answering a question.

As you know, we were at the theatre.

Until one of the actors up and died.

Your friend Walter Copland.

I only met him tonight.

(SPEAKS MANDARIN)

Mr. Lin...

...you'll get me hooked.

TARRANT: Thank you for coming,
darling girl.

A little earlier than I'm used to.

Did the inspector keep you up
half the night?

Oh, he did.

I expect he asked you who might stand
to gain from Walter Copland's death.

He also told me I shouldn't speak to you
about the case.

And?

I told him there was no love lost
between Mr. Copland and Mr. Evans.

Don't let Dot hear you say that.
She worships the man.

And the reason for the conflict?

Nothing, apart from the obvious —

two rival actors
competing for the same roles.

Creditors.
(SIGHS)

Painters, stagehands, orchestras,

even the actors, oddly enough,
they all expect to be paid.

What, they're not in it
for the love of theatre?

Only me.

Are you quite alright?
I've been better, my dear.

The truth is, Miss Fisher, I have
everything riding on this show.

Every last cracker.

If 'Ruddigore' goes down,
I'm ruined.

That's the end of me.

Apparently there's some tension

between your Mr. Evans
and Mr. Copland.

I can't think what about.

Unless it was jealously
over Mr. Evans's talent.

Could it be jealousy over
the attentions of Miss Esperance?

That's impossible, Miss.

How so?

Well, Miss Esperance
was engaged to Mr. Copland

and Mr. Evans would never dally with
the affections of an engaged lady.

Really?

They're engaged?
Mmm.

'Table Talk' magazine does not lie.

Ah. I wondered when you'd be back.

Did you miss me?

I never get a chance to miss you.

It feels as if you're in my office
every second day.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

A development in our case.

Our case?

I expect the actors let slip
about the ghost.

They did. Don't tell me
you suspect the ghost.

Might be a little difficult
to clap an apparition in iron.

I was thinking more about whoever
faked the apparition's appearance.

And given that it's a woman...

Do you suspect Miss Esperance?

At the time, I didn't question
her indifference

to her fellow actor's collapse.

But is that the behaviour
of a fiancée?

Doing 'Ruddigore' gave Walter and I
a chance to work together.

We didn't like to be apart.

So, how long have you been engaged?

Oh, two, is it?

Just before we began rehearsals.
Yes, two months.

I would have thought most engaged
women could count out the minutes.

(SNIGGERS) It wasn't my idea.

What wasn't?

It was just for an article
in 'Table Talk'.

The engagement
was supposed to sell tickets.

Then you weren't really engaged?

So much of what we do
is make-believe.

It was just one more thing
to pretend.

Mr. Tarrant tells us it was your idea
to mount a production of 'Ruddigore'.

Yes. I wrote to him in England.

I thought it would be the perfect
opportunity for him to return home

after all those years away.

Did you see the ghost?

No.

When we finally heard about it,
I looked for her

but...she'd vanished.

Where were you
when the ghost appeared?

Downstage left.

We were in the middle
of a dress rehearsal.

So Walter was the only one
who saw it?

No. His dresser, Hansen,
was with him.

Following Walter around
like a puppy.

It just appeared out of thin air.

Walter recognised her —

he'd worked with Dorothea
20 years ago —

and he told her to stay away.

This note?

Yes, that's it. Yes.

Rather unusual, isn't it,
for a ghost to leave behind

such a powerful item like a note.

I'm sure I have no idea
what ghosts do or don't do.

They don't usually do anything,
given they don't exist.

Oh, ye of little faith.

It wasn't just the note.
I beg your pardon?

That the ghost left behind.

When I returned from
the dressing-room,

the sand had vanished.

Not entirely.

Do you have any idea
who'd want to murder Walter Copland?

I shouldn't say,

but Mr. Evans spent all last night
rehearsing Walter's role.

I hear you're taking on
Mr. Copland's role.

The show must go on.

You weren't exactly on
the best of terms with Mr. Copland.

The man was a ham.

Yes, it's a pity he's passed on

but I'm not going to pretend
he was the world's greatest actor.

He could hardly stumble on stage
without a little help.

What kind of help?

The sort of help
usually found in a bottle.

You saw him take a drink
before he went on stage?

I didn't but my dresser, Bradford,
saw everything.

BRADFORD: He made a great show
of pretending

there was something wrong
with his costume.

But there wasn't?

It was just an excuse
to have another tipple.

And what was it he was drinking?

You would have to ask his dresser —

he was the keeper of the flask.

JACK: I believe Mr. Copland
had a drink that night.

Walter would never compromise
his performance.

You're his dresser.

It's understandable
you'd be loyal to Mr. Copland.

You'd know what he was carrying —
you're responsible for his costume.

Not just his costume.

The dresser is the actor's ally,
his closest friend.

We're trying to find out what happened
to your friend, Mr. Hansen.

Is there anything you can tell us
that might help us get to the truth?

He had a drink
before the play opened?

It was for his nerves.
To calm him before he went on.

And who filled the flask?

I did.

I can only assume
you were planning to tell me about this.

No planning involved, Jack.
You know me.

You really can't go around
removing evidence from a corpse.

I'll try and remember that next time.

Am I forgiven?

Provisionally.

So you think the dresser did it?

He had access to the flask.

If he was poisoned,
it seems likely he's the culprit.

Isn't it a bit easy,

given that everybody knew
he carried Copland's booze?

Quite right.
Must have been the ghost.

DOT: Are you sure
this is a good idea, Miss?

Walter Copland was killed
with an overdose of opium

and I need to find out if there's
any connection with our Mr. Lin Chung.

What makes you think there is?

For a start, Walter Copland's hands
showed signs he'd used an opium pipe.

Add to that his scrape
with some thugs in an alleyway

only to be saved by Lin Chung.

At the very least, our Chinese friend
knows more than he's letting on.

(CLOCK CHIMES)

Would you care for champagne, Mr. Lin?

Yes, please.

You didn't get a chance
to tell me about the silk trade.

There's not much to tell.

I'm guessing my overly curious nature
is not a virtue in your culture.

I've always enjoyed explorations
beyond my culture.

Here's to exploration.

I do have one question for you.

After a meal like that, it would be rude
not to answer one question.

Did Walter Copland
ever buy silk from you

or...anything else?

“Anything else"?

Opium?

You take me for an opium trader.
I'm asking.

Mr. Copland came to
the same conclusion.

I'm Chinese and so it follows that
I must know where to buy opium from.

That was why he followed me
outside the theatre.

Why were you at the theatre?

Just showing Mr. Tarrant silks
for his next production, 'The Mikado'.

So you didn't help Walter Copland
obtain opium?

I'm very sorry to disappoint you,

but I'm an importer of silk
and silk alone.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

It's late.
It's early.

My apologies if I've offended you.

Thank you for your hospitality,
but I have an early meeting tomorrow.

(DOOR OPENS AND SHUTS)

MAN: Miss William, visitor for you.

HUGH: Hello, Dot.
Oh.

Sorry to bother,
I just wanted to pop in before work,

er...to bring you this.

It's for your birthday.

I know it's a little bit late but...

Thank you.

I hope you like them.

They're...

..lovely.

Very useful.

I thought it might make up

for me missing out on the theatre
the other night.

Ooh. Ow.

Sorry.

No.
Kiss it better?

Constable Collins. How delightful.

Miss Phryne. Sorry, he was...

A birthday gift.
For our walks.

How romantic.

I have some darning to do.

Oh, yes, me too.

Not darning
but other...important police work.

Did the Inspector find
Walter Copland's flask?

I...I can't say, Miss.

And were there traces of opium?

I'm not one for card games,
but a little advice —

don't ever play poker.

If the Inspector asks anything,
I didn't breathe a word.

You didn't have to, dear Hugh.
I can read you like a book.

Speaking of books,

I'm in a delicate situation
and I'd like your opinion.

The book was sent to me as a gift.

Obviously it has artistic merit

but I'd hate to discover

it was in breach of the Obscene
and Indecent Publications Act.

Is...

I... (CLEARS THROAT)

I suppose I could
take a look at it for you.

You might enjoy it.

There's an excellent chapter
on kissing.

A whole chapter on kissing?

Oh, yes.

When it comes to seduction,

the East have a few thousand years
head start on us.

Um, Miss Phryne?

What is it, Dot?

Um, sorry to trouble you,
but Mrs. Lin is here,

says she wants to speak with you.

Oh. Why don't you let her in?

She won't come in. I've asked.

My apologies, Mrs. Lin.

Please, join us.

You are fox spirit.

Fox spirit take man property
and waste it.

I assure you I have no interest
in anyone else's property.

Lin Chung is promised to be married

to a good family in Shanghai.

Leave him alone or you will be cursed
until your dying day.

Fox spirit.

I quite like the sound of that.

Oh, here's one.

(READS) “Actress takes own life.”

What date?

June 15, 1908.
Sounds about right.

Read on, Macduff.

“Dorothea Curtis,
while performing in the opening night

“of Gilbert and Sullivan's 'Ruddigore',

“was found dead by her own hand
in her dressing-room."

Well found, old thing.

Here we go.

“Dorothea had been wooed
by two suitors.

“One of them
was a rather handsome fellow

“by the name of Maurice Sheffield.

“And the other..."

Well, well.

Why didn't you tell me
you and Dorothea were sweethearts?

Did you love her?
Passionately.

But that wasn't enough.

Who was Maurice Sheffield?

Dorothea and I
had just finished 'Penzance'.

The world was at our feet.
We'd both been offered roles in London.

But she decided not to come.

She retired from the stage
for a year.

(SIGHS)

While I was away,
she was won over by Sheffield.

When I came back,
she was engaged to him.

Then the three of us
were cast in 'Ruddigore'.

Though it became clear
that Dorothea and I

still had feelings.

You got back together?

I wasn't going to let her
get away again.

I asked her to marry me,
to break it off with Sheffield.

I'd wager Sheffield wasn't thrilled.

Dorothea said she'd give me
her answer the night we opened.

But instead, she, uh...

...she sent me this note.

(READS) “My darling Bart,

“I cannot go on.

“Please forgive me."

The ghost's hand matches Dorothea's.

Oh, this is punishment.

I should never have gone to London.

I should have stayed.

This is where I found her.

She was late for an entrance.

I ran back, swung open the door...

Do you have any notion of how
I might contact Maurice Sheffield?

He gave up the theatre
as far as I know.

Her death broke both our hearts.

Did Dorothea have any family?

A cousin.

Her name was Mobbs.

Miss Fisher.
Inspector.

What brings you back to the theatre?

A development in the case.
Do tell.

It turns out the beneficiary
of Walter Copland's will

is his dresser, Mr. Hansen.

I wouldn't get too excited
if I were you.

Inheriting an actor's estate is
not exactly winning the Melbourne Cup.

What do you expect he'll inherit?

A fake moustache
and a stick of grease paint?

It seems Walter Copland
was that rare thing —

an actor with independent means.

He came from a well-to-do family.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Open up, Hansen.

Oh. I'm sorry to disturb.

I was actually looking
for Mr. Hansen.

Well, he's not here.

This is Mr. Evans's room now.
Oh.

So Hansen's been let go?

I wouldn't know.

EVANS: Bradford, my hat.

Yes, my lord and master.

No, I move down left and you follow.

That may be the way Walter did it.
Enough!

I will come back
when you are ready to rehearse.

Do me a favour, Miss Fisher.

With pleasure.

I thought you didn't like operetta.

I didn't. But I do now.

You just follow along
as best you can.

Where's my mark?
Right here.

Mistress Rose.

Master Robin.

Do you smell hyacinths?

(CREAKING)
That's not...

WOMAN: Oh, my God, look out!
Ugh!

Phryne?

Phryne.

Slowly. That's it.

(GROANS)

Gwilym?
You are very lucky, my dear.

I'm afraid Gwilym — not quite so.

(SCREAMS)

It was Dorothea, wasn't it?

Miss Esperance,
there's no such thing as ghosts.

This is just what happened to Walter
and now Gwilym.

BART: There, there!
I know it's terrible.

But we're going to get through this.

We must.

I smelt hyacinths
just before the sandbag dropped.

My men will search
the whole theatre.

Yes, yes, of course.

How's your head?

It'll be fine.

I just need a moment.

(ELECTRICITY CRACKLES)
Not again.

What do you want?

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)

(GRUNTS)

(SIGHS)

Must you sneak around?

I heard something.
So did I. In the fly tower.

We found the rope
for the counterweight.

It was frayed all the way around.

Looks like an accident.
A very convenient one.

I agree.

Did you smell it?
The flowers?

It's hyacinths. It's...

Now I really can't let you
out of my sight.

Why go to all the trouble
of faking a ghost?

It didn't look fake to me.

Well, who stands to benefit?

Is it to close down the show?

You know how superstitious
actors are.

Kill the leads
and you kill the production.

It had to be Hansen.

Even if he killed Copland
for the money,

why kill Gwilym?

And why threaten me?

(GRUNTS)

Wait, Jack, I know him.

Wrong neighbourhood
for sneaking about in the shadows.

I am aware of the neighbourhood.

Inspector Robinson,

Mr. Lin.

I was on my way to the theatre
and I hoped that you would be there.

Perhaps you'd like to join me
for supper.

Miss Fisher was on her way home.

Actually, Miss Fisher
is feeling a tad peckish.

I'd appreciate it
if you saw the lady safely home.

You have my word.

Miss Fisher.

(PEOPLE CHATTER IN MANDARIN)

I understand my grandmother
paid you a visit.

She's a charming woman,
your grandmother.

I've never heard her described
that way before.

She told me you were to be married.

The marriage is arranged.
It is between our families.

I've never even met the girl.

My family's been importing silk
for three generations.

Our business isn't what it was.

The family my grandmother
wants me to marry into is the Hu's.

They're very powerful
but they need respectability.

So a marriage of convenience
to solve both families' problems.

She's in Shanghai waiting for me
to agree to the contract.

You have a problem
with an arranged marriage.

My problem is marrying into a family
that deals in opium.

My father smoked opium.

Once he took to the pipe,
he was consumed by it.

First his family,

business, honour

and then his life
all turned to smoke.

I'm sorry.

It's a dirty business
and I want nothing to do with it.

But your granny is keen for you
to marry into the Hu family.

I had hoped to recover
my family's wealth.

But at what cost?

To marry or not to marry.

That is the question.

While you decide, I suppose there's
nothing to stop us taking supper.

Nothing at all.

('HE'S THE LAST WORD'
BY BEN BERNIE)

♪ He can't dance

♪ But for real romance
he's the last word

♪ Oh, doh-doh doh doh

♪ Seldom talks, but for moonlight walks
he's the last word... ♪

(BIRDSONG)

I'm very sorry
about Gwilym Evans, Dot.

Why would anyone want to hurt him?

Perhaps it wasn't him
they were aiming for.

Miss?

At the time, I was wearing
part of Miss Esperance's costume.

You think he was killed by mistake?

There's one way to find out.

I think it's time we became
better acquainted with our ghost.

Dorothea Curtis has a cousin,
a Mrs. Mobbs.

It doesn't seem right, Miss,
to spy on people.

It's all in the service of truth.

You'll have to stop being
such a goody-two-shoes.

(DISTANT FOOTSTEPS)

Leila?

“Curiouser and curiouser,"
said Alice.

Alice who, Miss?

I think we can assume
we have the right Mrs. Mobbs.

I don't often get the chance to meet
Leila's friends from the theatre.

Don't know why Bart would put on
'Ruddigore' again.

You think it's cursed?

No, just not very good.

It's not exactly 'H.M.S. Pinafore',
is it?

You were an actress?
Oh, I flirted with the stage.

It didn't return my affections.

No, I was busy with other things.

Like bringing up Leila?
Mmm.

Were you in the production
of 'Ruddigore' with Dorothea?

No, I'd retired by then.

And that would have been after
Dorothea's year away from the stage.

Was her absence
for the age-old reason?

I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.

Phryne Fisher.

So what does a lady detective do?

Stir up trouble?

I'm investigating the murders
at the theatre.

And the ghost.

Leila didn't mention the ghost?

Dorothea's ghost.

Haunting the theatre.

Oh!

No wonder the poor girl's
been such a wreck.

Dorothea gave you her baby
to raise as your own.

Mmm.

How did you know?

(SIGHS)

Her reaction to the ghost
was the clincher.

I told her the truth about her mother
when she turned 18.

That's when she decided
to be an actress herself.

So the poor girl thinks
the ghost is her mother.

How horrible.

Do you have any idea of
the whereabouts of Maurice Sheffield?

Maurice was a charmer.

Not very practical, though.

He tried to talk our Dorothea
into acting in a cinema.

Thought he was
Cecil-bloody-B De Mille.

Really?
Mmm.

Leila doesn't know anything
about her father. Not from me.

She doesn't know who her father is?

There's already been enough misery
from that story.

That it's...Bart Tarrant?

Mmm.

Do you think there is
the slightest chance

the ghost really is Dorothea?

She always did like an encore.

Even if Leila
is Dorothea's daughter,

it doesn't change anything.

It gives her a reason
to seek revenge.

On?

On the theatre that took
her mother's life.

Or perhaps she blames Bart.

Leila encouraged him
to mount 'Ruddigore',

now he's ruined.

(KNOCK AT DOOR, DOOR OPENS)

Do we have him?
He's in the interview room, sir.

We picked up Hansen
at Spencer Street.

He was on the Albury train.

I killed him.
PHRYNE: Gwilym Evans?

No, no. Walter. I killed Walter.

I told him it would end badly.

I mean, how can it go on
the way it was going?

You mean...his opium habit?

(SIGHS) He developed a taste for it
a few months back.

First it was just the occasional visit
to Little Lonsdale Street.

I would have to drag him out
to get him ready for the show.

But he... Walter wasn't
the most agreeable person.

He could be insulting, so he was
no longer welcome in the dens.

That's why he needed someone
to buy the opium for him.

Walter thought the Chinaman
at the theatre could help.

Mr. Lin.

Your Chinaman?

But that just led to a punch-up.

Walter was beside himself.

He couldn't concentrate,
he couldn't remember his lines.

To get him through, I convinced
the doctor down the lane

to give me laudanum.

And that worked?

I thought I followed
the doctor's instructions to the letter.

But I must have put too much in.

I tried to help, but I couldn't.
I should have found a way.

But you have to believe me — I would
never do anything to hurt Walter.

Never.

He meant the world to me.

I didn't mean to kill him.

(SNIFFLES)

I didn't mean to kill him.

(SNIFFLES)

I checked with Mac — the amount
of laudanum Hansen gave him

wasn't anywhere near a lethal dose.

We only have Hansen's word
on the amount.

He clearly loved the man.
Why kill him?

Copland's estate
might be motivation enough.

As far as I'm concerned,
he can cool his heels in a cell

until a better suspect comes along.

Anyone could have spiked that flask
and put enough laudanum to do him in.

Do you have someone in particular
in mind?

Anyone who knew Copland's
dirty little secret.

You forgot to mention
your new friend who sells opium.

Walter tried to buy opium
from some thugs in a laneway.

Lin Chung stepped in
when things got ugly.

That's quite a story.

It sounds like you're questioning
my judgement.

No, no, I'm questioning
your taste in men.

I didn't know you had such a talent
for the dramatic.

(EERIE MUSIC)

DOT: What are you doing?

I'm trying to create a ghost.

Any luck?
Not so far.

(SIGHS)
Thank goodness for small mercies.

Oh, I'm stumped.

If I were enough of a detective,
I'd work it out.

I think you're far and away
the best detective in the world, Miss.

Thank you, Dot.

Perhaps there are some cases
that can't be solved.

Time just runs out
and there are no clues left.

Oh, Dot, why didn't I see it before?

You are brilliant!

(KISSES)

Oh!

I am?

As we all know,

this theatre has had more than
its fair share of misfortune

over the past few days.

The source of that misfortune
has been the ghost of Dorothea Curtis,

who I will now summon before us.

(ELECTRICITY CRACKLES)

Oh, it's...it's Dorothea.

I could almost touch her.

But I'm sorry to say
there is no ghost.

Just trickery.

It's a thin curtain of falling sand.

Dot gave me the idea.

Like sand running through
an hourglass.

A scene from the one motion picture
Dorothea ever made

is projected
onto the falling sand.

All very clever, but who did it?

Someone who knew Dorothea very well.

No, I loved her.

It wasn't Bart.

(ELECTRICITY CRACKLES)

WOMAN: Ooh!
(OTHERS MURMUR)

Dorothea, it's you. It's really you.

You left me, my love.
You left me behind.

I had so much to tell you
but I never had the chance.

I had your child and you never knew.

What, a child?

The killer is someone
who kept Dorothea's letters

and could imitate her handwriting.

Someone who had full access
to the theatre,

enabling him to set up the projector

and to spike Walter Copland's flask
with a lethal dose of laudanum.

Maurice Sheffield.

(OTHERS MURMUR)

Sheffield? Is that you?

It's a trick, sir.
Someone stop this!

That's not his only crime.

I didn't kill myself.

You wrote that suicide note.
What?

That's ridiculous!
You can't believe this!

You're the only one
who could have faked the ghost.

You who photographed
Dorothea's one foray into the cinema.

A picture that never saw
the light of day.

Ohh!

(GRUNTS)

Ahh!

I should have killed you all those years
ago when I had the chance.

Why did you come back?
He stole her from me.

I tried to put it behind me, I did,

and then he comes back from London,
like he just did,

and puts on 'Ruddigore'.

So you murdered two innocent men?

I wanted him ruined.

His leading man dead on opening night,
he'd be finished.

And Gwilym Evans?

That one was meant for you.

She was mine.

I killed her
so as you'd never have her.

No!

Oh, you look so like her.

PHRYNE: That's because
she's Dorothea's daughter, Bart.

And yours too.

Is this true?

I thought playing Rose
would bring me closer to my mother.

I never imagined
it would bring a father too.

Oh, Phryne.

Thinking of Gwilym Evans?

This is where he stood and sang
just a few days ago.

Did you...

Did you like him?

(CHUCKLES)

I didn't even know him.

Dotty...

You're so beautiful.

(SLOW ORIENTAL MUSIC)

I got your note.

I thought you should know

I agreed to the marriage.

Congratulations.

But I wanted to explain.
There's no explanation necessary.

Nonetheless, you should know
I have my reasons.

Which I'm sure are honourable.

What my father lost,
I hope to regain.

And your new-found alliance
will bring you that?

We provide the Hu family
with respectability

and they provide us
with their financial resources.

And their opium.

The Hu family trade in many things

and once I'm in control,
I decide what is imported.

Is it that simple?

There is a Chinese proverb —

the reed which bends to the breeze
does not break.

And eventually that reed
will stand tall.

You're an idealist,
Miss Phryne Fisher,

although you hide it.

Guilty as charged.

To ideals.

And your Shanghai bride.

JACK: Congratulations.

Flattery from a policeman?

You'll turn my head, Jack Robinson.

But there is one thing
you didn't figure out.

And that is?

My aversion to operetta.

You know I like a mystery.

Let me see.

A bad experience on the stage.

(CLEARS THROAT)

'The Pirates of Penzance'.

(LAUGHS)

The reviewer thought my performance
as the major general

was underwhelming.

Why don't you let me judge
for myself?

I can't remember a word of it.
Oh, what rot.

Once you learn one of those
patter songs, it's in there for good.

I'm more of a Shakespeare man.

The stage is all yours.

Age cannot wither her,
nor custom stale.

Her infinite variety.

Other women cloy.

The appetites they feed,
but she makes hungry

where most she satisfies.

Perhaps a career in the theatre
beckons after all, Inspector.

I think I'll stick to crime.

('MAKIN' WHOOPEE')

♪ Another bride
Another June

♪ Another sunny honeymoon

♪ Another season

♪ Another reason for makin' whoopee

♪ A lot of shoes,
a lot of rice

♪ The groom is nervous

♪ He answers twice

♪ it's really killin'

♪ That he's so willin'

♪ To make whoopee

♪ Picture a little love nest

♪ Down where
the roses cling

♪ Picture the same sweet love nest

♪ Think what a year can bring

♪ He's washin' dishes

♪ And baby clothes

♪ He's so ambitious he even sews

♪ But don't forget, folks

♪ That's what you get, folks

♪ For makin' whoopee. a'