Original subtitles

Immorality, in the life of a member of the Church,

can tarnish the work of God.

A woman might be the model of a good wife,

and a good Christian, but that counts for little

for she is an adulterer.

I say to her, don't for a moment think that your sin

is a private thing.

It is adultery and tarnishes the name of the Church

and destroys our ministry in the community.

And destroys our ministry in the community.

Either way, your infidelities need

to be brought to the light.

And I have been given that responsibility.

You are not only breaking the commitment

you made to each other, but also the one you made to God.

Some supper.

you, Evelyn.

Lit

The fire in your room has been lit.

It's a cold night out.

Ah, yes.

Hello?

There's no one there, Cyril.

Good evening, Father Morton.

You're aware of the hour?

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

It has been several months since my last confession.

Father?

Father Morton?

Father?

Oh!

Oh!

It is with sadness that I can confirm

father Cyril Lawton has passed.

Aren't the police usually

the ones giving speeches under such circumstances?

It's important that we stay strong at this time

and know that everything happens for a reason.

We've lost a wonderful friend and an excellent priest.

This will be a great shock to the community.

This was an unfortunate act of nature.

Everyone will be informed in due course, and funeral

arrangements organized, .

And details announced at a later date

I'd say we're looking

at a severe allergic reaction, and we need to find

out who that last penitent was.

Well, we know that was Jean.

Oh, no, no, no.

She was here this morning.

Morton's been dead since last night,

judging by the discoloration of the skin.

- until we make an official announcement

later today.

We just have to accept that this was

simply Father Morton's time.

What's strange is this late night

confession business.

Ah.

Didn't fancy church this morning?

I had other matters to deal with.

Pity, because things don't quite add up at Sacred Heart.

Hope you're taking notes on this Davis.

Yes, sir.

You'll be handling this.

I'm otherwise occupied.

Everything all right?

I'll let you know if it isn't.

So.

What doesn't add up?

Well, the time frame.

This whole late night penitent thing.

What do we know about Father Morton?

Ah, nothing at all.

I mean, I haven't set foot in church since I arrived here.

Except for today.

CHIEF SUPT MATTHEW Here's

Morton's death certificate.

You'd better get Blake to sign it.

Well, hang on a moment.

Thank you, Charlie.

I might need to perform an autopsy.

The church doesn't want one, Blake.

And besides, they're expensive, and in this case, unnecessary.

Uh, boss.

I'd like to speak to someone.

How can we help you, ma'am?

It's about Father Morton.

I'm his housekeeper.

Was.

And I'm the reason he died.

Right.

So, Father Morton went to meet a penitent at the church

late last night.

And who was that penitent?

I don't know.

I overheard you saying that he died of an allergic reaction.

Yes, that's right.

I gave him some fruit on his way out.

It was new to the stores.

I hadn't seen it before.

I knew he had an allergy.

I shouldn't have given it to him.

What kind of fruit was it?

I gave him a pear, which I knew he wasn't allergic to.

The other was a Chinese gooseberry.

I did this, didn't I?

Evelyn.

Fruit allergies can bring about severe reactions, certainly.

But having said that, so can a number of other things.

I imagine we'll do an autopsy then.

Dr. Blake.

This is Mr. Michaels. .

He's a surgeon here at the hospital

Oh, Hello.

Dr. Harvey said only good things about you.

Really?

Dr. Harvey, you're too kind.

It's a pleasure.

Mr. Michaels diagnosed

Father Morton with a brain tumor several months ago.

He'd like to section the brain.

Ah, to see exactly where the tumor is.

Yeah, when you're finished, I'll remove the brain

and encase in in formalin overnight to fix it up,

then I'll section it.

The church has consented.

Right.

Well then, we'd better get started.

You mentioned a possible food

allergy on the phone.

Yes.

Anaphylactic shock.

Morton's housekeeper is afraid he may

have died from eating fruit.

A Chinese gooseberry.

Kiwi fruit.

It's from New Zealand.

He could have easily been allergic and not known it.

If it is a food allergy, we'll be

looking for a pulmonary edema in the lungs.

Yes.

Or a cerebral edema

I'll start by making an incision into the thorax.

Very good.

Hey, wait a minute.

What are these?

Urticaria, perhaps?

Hives caused by his allergy?

Yes.

Bear with me a moment.

Noticed something here, look.

Look at that.

A bee stinger.

There's at least 20 stings here.

Do you happen to know if Morton

was allergic to apitoxin?

I never operated on him.

I'll have to check the file.

Because if he was allergic to bee stings,

there's no way he'd survive being stung this many times.

Perhaps we should check the upper airways.

Charlie.

I didn't realize you were Catholic.

Well, I'm not a very good one.

You find anything?

Oh, just more questions, really.

If Morton was being stung by bees,

why didn't he simply flee the confessional booth?

As you know, the priest would take his seat

in this side of the booth.

The penitent, right next door.

Well, as far as I can remember.

Hm.

Doc, you got any ideas

what's wrong with the boss?

Your guess is as good as mine, Charlie.

Yeah, I reckon there's

something he's not saying.

Well, not exactly transparent,

our Matthew Lawson.

Come have a look at this, Charlie.

Father Morton's killers.

The piece of glass?

Kept in a jar, perhaps.

Charlie, help me move this pew across to the door, would you?

Well, that scratch has definitely

been made by this pew, I'd say.

And look at the height of it, Charlie.

All they'd need to do is position the back of the pew

under the door handle here.

I think the penitent waited in their side of the booth

until Father Morton was seated.

Then they opened the door to Morton,

and they threw the jar of bees in.

Then they barricaded the door.

It would have been quite dark in here last night,

wouldn't it?

Yes, perhaps only a few lights on, why?

Someone was reading the Bible in candlelight.

Maybe while father Morton was fighting for his life.

Right.

Well that's evidence, Charlie.

We'll need to take it with us.

Whoever killed father Morton, they knew, they knew

he was allergic to bee stings.

Charlie.

You have got to be joking.

Father Emery.

Yes.

You keep bees?

Yes, that's right.

You're the only one that handles them?

Yes.

It's my apiary.

I set it up when I arrived around six months ago.

Right.

Were you aware Father Morton had a bee allergy?

Yes.

But Cyril never came near the apiary.

That was a given.

I see.

The autopsy revealed he died from bee stings.

Now, you say you were aware of his allergy,

and yet you set up your apiary where

he spent most of his time.

I spoke to Cyril about setting up the apiary

and he was fine about it.

I'll talk to the superintendent.

He'll most likely want you to come down to the station

to answer more questions.

I think you'll find he won't.

And why is that?

Because your superintendent

knows better than to point the blame too soon.

Gentlemen.

CHIEF SUPT MATTHEW Thank you.

What did the boss say?

Stay away from the church.

What?

Come on.

Once we found out about the bee stings,

we had to revisit the crime scene.

Yeah.

He also said don't steal any more Bibles.

Oh.

I suggested we bring an Emery for questioning.

And?

Well, the archbishop in Melbourne

apparently suggested that we didn't do that.

Oh, of course.

What about that mark on the floor?

Right by the confessional booth?

Lawson doesn't believe Emery would use

his own bees to kill a priest.

Really? And why is that?

Because he's a man of the bloody cloth?

We know this is murder, but we have to be damn

sure before we accuse a priest.

interview as many of the parishioners as possible.

And if you could avoid annoying too many people today,

I'd appreciate it. - Look.

Blake!

Lucien.

I've been asked to sew the sacred linens

for Father Morton's funeral.

Well, me and the rest of the sewing circle.

They'll be coming over this evening, if that's all right.

Yes, of course.

Father Morton baptized Jack and young Christopher.

I am sorry, Jean.

You'll find out who did this?

I promise you I'll do my best.

Evelyn Toohey must be beside herself with grief.

Yes.

Tell me about her.

Evelyn came to the church after her father

was sent to prison for theft.

I think she really needed to believe

in something after that.

Which is when she found Father Morton.

I don't know who she'll turn to now.

Well, God I imagine.

I didn't think you were on his side.

No, but Evelyn is.

If I were you, I would speak with Evelyn again.

She was his housekeeper.

She probably knew him better than he knew himself.

Evelyn, this is very kind of you.

I really wasn't expecting lunch.

I'm just glad the food's not going to waste.

Bless us, oh Lord, and these your gifts

which are about to receive from your bounty

through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Amen.

I'm not sure who I'll cook for now.

Or even if Father Emery will keep me on.

I'm just the housekeeper.

Father Morton left that night to meet with a penitent.

That's right.

To be honest, it's been a long time since I--

uh.

Anyhow.

I can't imagine late night confessions

would be standard practice.

I'd never known anyone to call that late.

And tell me, you worked for Father Morton for a long time?

Yes.

I never really understood the importance of religion

before meeting Cyril.

Oh, sometimes it helps to put a face to it.

It sounds as though you were both very,

very good friends though.

Well, we didn't always get along,

but I always tried to keep Cyril's good name intact.

Especially since his sermons had lost focus lately.

Recently, I'd overheard that Father

Emery wanted Cyril to retire from his position early.

And I can't say that he was altogether

wrong in suggesting it.

Some parishioners even walked out of the last sermon.

Do you know who?

Ben and Celia Lloyd.

Right.

Do you recall anything else?

I was waiting after the mass.

I always did should Cyril need anything.

This time Ben Lloyd was arguing with him.

I don't know what about, but it looked quite heated.

Right.

Evelyn, what was that last sermon about?

Adultery.

I'd left the stove on.

And that's what you were discussing

when you left the church?

I was worried we'd come home to find

our house burned to the ground.

And you had every right to be annoyed.

But I had no right to raise my voice.

Witnesses say they saw you talking to Father Morton

after mass.

Not me.

They must have seen somebody else.

Tell you what.

There's some lovely pictures here.

Thank you.

Whoa.

Are you all right?

Yes.

I'm fine.

You both attend Sacred Heart regularly?

Every Sunday.

Any other times?

Celia would see father Morton on a regular basis.

Confessions, various church activities.

She even visited him in hospital once.

Really?

And what was that for?

It was for a bee sting.

His doctor suggested some bed rest.

I took him a casserole.

Right.

Tell me.

Father Morton's bee allergy.

Was that common knowledge?

No.

He kept it to himself.

It was just a small group of us from the sewing

circle who visited him.

Evelyn, Dorothy, Jean, and myself.

Right.

So, the women from the sewing circle all knew

about Morton's allergy to bees.

As did Ben Lloyd and Father Emery, of course.

And Mrs. Beasley.

Well, I think we can safely rule her out, Charlie.

We know they're just playing happy families in there.

What?

Because of that photo of frame turned upside down?

Yes.

I bet that photo was their wedding photo.

What about that folded blanket on the couch?

Well, because one of them slept there last night.

I'd say Ben.

Now this business about the stove being left on.

No, no, no, no, no.

People spend nights on couches over much, much bigger issues.

What?

Money?

Or infidelity.

The sermon they walked out of.

Precisely.

But is that enough of a motive for Ben to kill Father Morton?

Well.

I'm not sure yet.

Either way, he wasn't particularly happy

with Morton's last sermon.

Mm.

Oh, doc.

Yes?

Got it from the library.

Oh, Charlie, well done.

Thank you.

Hm.

Ladies, I have some news.

I'm pregnant.

Oh!

Oh, Celia congratulations!

That's wonderful news!

Thank you.

It's so unexpected.

Oh, you two must be very excited.

Oh, yes.

Oh, Ben will make a wonderful father.

A first child.

It's such an exciting time!

It is cause for celebration, you know.

Celia, what's wrong?

I'm not much in the mood.

It seems unfair considering Father Morton's

passing and poor Evelyn.

Is there something else?

Truth is, I haven't told Ben.

Ladies.

I am sorry to interrupt.

I seem to have misplaced my newspaper.

I threw out this afternoon's newspaper.

I see.

As I do every evening.

Lucien.

This is Dorothy Turner.

Oh!

Dorothy, an absolute pleasure.

Lovely to see you here, Mrs. Lloyd.

Thank you.

I trust you're feeling better?

Actually, doctor, I'm expecting.

Ah!

Well, congratulations.

How about that!

Wonderful news!

Yeah, no, I see the church linens

are coming along beautifully.

We can thank Dorothy for being such a taskmaster.

We'll be lucky to get this made before the funeral.

Ah.

Well in that case, I should leave you to it, eh?

Ladies.

See you next time.

Was so lovely to have you here.

Thank you, Jean.

Bye, Dorothy.

You take care of that step there.

Celia.

Jean.

Look after yourself.

I trust you got what you wanted.

Hm?

Oh, the paper.

I'll-- well I'll see tomorrow's edition.

I don't appreciate you treating

my friends as suspects.

I imagine you can do as you like.

You're not accountable to anybody.

I'm accountable to you, Jean.

I know you want me to find out what happened to Father Morton.

Unless of course, you think God was responsible.

Well, he is.

In some ways.

Well, I admire you, Jean.

Being able to forgive God so effortlessly.

What about your lovely friend Dorothy?

That injury of hers, it's permanent is it?

Yes.

I wonder, has she forgiven God?

It's not God she needs to forgive.

It's her late husband.

He was a horrible and violent man.

And on one occasion, he shoved her down a flight of stairs.

She's always kept that to herself.

Goodness me.

Well there you are.

Proof that man can generate evil all on his own.

What happened to the husband?

He died in a car accident soon after that.

Mysterious ways.

Mm.

There's something about Celia that I should tell you.

Oh. Hold that thought.

I'll get it.

Drink?

Mad if we don't.

Come on through.

Jean.

Oh, Matthew!

What a lovely surprise.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

Oh, never.

In fact, you're here just in time to help settle

a small debate on religion.

Now, do you think God or man is responsible for evil

in the world?

Man.

Well, Lucien, that means you've turned your back on God,

and Matthew's turned his back on man.

I'm not sure what's left to have faith in.

Whiskey.

Ha!

Hm.

So, Matthew.

What's your secret?

Sorry?

The secret to remaining detached

while at the same time being entirely consumed by the case.

Well, uh, don't be entirely consumed by work.

It doesn't always give back.

Hm. that's sound advice.

Well, speaking of being entirely consumed

by work, Jean, you were going to tell me

something when Matthew arrived.

Uh, Yes, Celia admitted to being

very upset with Father Morton.

Apparently, she'd told him her sins in confession

and she's sure that he's referenced those confessions

in his last sermon.

Well that's interesting.

Look.

Let's say here's Father Emery.

This is Father Morton.

And these are some of the congregation who knew

about Morton's bee allergy.

Now, here's Celia and Ben Lloyd.

And we have Dorothy Turner.

Now, the Lloyds walked out during Morton's last sermon

which focused on infidelity.

Now Celia, she was the one who confessed regularly.

I suspect she told Father Morton,

he took that information and wove it into his sermon.

Now, let's not forget Dorothy Turner.

She has a secret of her own about how

she came to be disabled.

And perhaps Morton was going to reveal her secret too.

The point is, whoever killed Morton, I think,

had one Hell of a secret to protect.

A secret worth killing for?

Makes you wonder though, doesn't it?

What was Father Morton thinking?

Betraying his parishioners like that.

That's if he was thinking.

Good God, Matthew.

You're quite right.

Thank you.

Oh.

Sorry to keep you, Dr. Blake.

No, not at all.

Good to see Mr. Michaels.

You uh, mentioned on the phone

that you needed more detail on Morton's brain tumor.

Yes.

I was curious as to the exact location of the tumor.

I was going through Morton's medical history

and I found a name.

Thomas Blake.

Any relation?

Yes.

My father.

He was Morton's doctor for a while.

Oh, I wasn't aware.

Morton's tumor was in the early stages of infiltrating

his frontal lobe.

Right.

Which means disinhibition was potentially a factor.

Going off on verbal tangents.

Making inappropriate comments.

Poor impulse control.

Not the sort of problem a priest would want to have.

Excuse me.

Certainly.

Yes.

It's for you.

Thank you.

Blake.

Get out!

Just calm down!

Go on!

Get out of me bloody house!

Bloody settle down!

Calm down, mate!

Get over here!

Let go of me! Hey!

It's over!

Under control Charlie?

Yeah.

She's in the bedroom, doc.

Celia?

Oh, Celia.

Are you all right?

My stomach!

She got what she deserved!

Let's pop you on the bed.

Let's pop you up here.

Let me see tummy of yours.

Oh, for God's sake.

All right.

I'm here.

I'm here, all right?

Do you think you can walk with me?

Yes.

Yes.

Good girl.

That's it.

Come on.

I was in the area.

I got the call.

As soon as I heard the address I got the station to call you.

Good man.

Well it looks like Celia got a couple of decent shots

in as well.

That was me.

Right.

Well, Ben was clearly very focused on what

it was he set out to do.

What?

Beat his wife to a pulp?

No.

He was aiming fairly and squarely for her abdomen.

He didn't set out to hurt her as such.

He wanted to kill her baby.

Celia was having an affair.

She told Morton.

Morton revealed her secret, and then, then

she announced she was pregnant.

It seems like a good enough reason to want to kill Morton.

And Ben knew of Morgan's bee allergy.

Celia.

We'll come back tomorrow, won't we?

Yes.

I'm glad Celia and the baby are all right.

Horrible business!

Yes, Indeed.

Jean, I wanted to give you these.

I know your doctor Blake is looking into Cyril's passing.

They're complaint letters from Father Emery to the archbishop.

I overheard Father Emery talking to several saying

he was going to complain.

Father Emery gave me the letters to post,

but I just couldn't knowing what was in them.

Now I think they might actually help the police.

I'll make sure the doctor receives them.

So Father Emery wanted Morton removed from the parish.

Well, that's if Evelyn's telling the truth.

I did a background check on her.

It confirms what we know.

That her father went to prison for theft.

He stole a substantial amount of money and a porcelain doll.

A porcelain doll, Charlie?

Not something you'd imagine a grown man

would be particularly interested in.

Perhaps Evelyn stole the doll, and she

let her father take the fall.

And if she lied about that, she could well have been

involved in Morton's death.

But she came into the station and confessed to killing him.

She wouldn't do that if she was innocent.

Charlie.

Confessing, that's a wonderful alibi.

She might have written these very letters.

Maybe we should steam them open.

That's the queen's mail, Blake.

And we don't have a warrant.

I suggest you delve deeper into Ben Lloyd's past.

Yes, sir.

Lawson, what's going on?

Nothing.

I just want to make sure that Father

Emery is accorded due process.

Those letters--

Due process!

If you go off on one of your tangents,

the archbishop will be all over us.

Well, what if Charlie and I just

had a friendly chat with him and not mentioned the letters?

Feel free.

Matthew, If you don't mind me saying,

you've spent an awful lot of time on the phone today.

I'm just asking, is everything all right?

It's not your problem.

I had noticed that father Morton was

struggling with his sermons.

Yes.

It's been reported that confessional secrets were

revealed during those sermons.

You don't seem surprised, Father.

I had my suspicions.

Canon law prevents a priest from betraying

the penitent in any way.

Yes, of course.

You wanted to report it?

Yes.

I wrote letters to the archbishop in Melbourne

but I never received a response.

Apart from those sermons, did you

feel overall that he wasn't performing

his duties as a priest?

Latin is not a language

people understand anymore.

Hm.

And I'm guessing the archbishop remained silent.

Yes.

So I kept an eye on the father.

I expected that at some point he would retire.

And you would have been next in line to take over.

As the only other priest here, yes.

That would have been a step up for you, wouldn't it?

I'm only human.

But my concern was for the church.

I was trying to deal with the matter in a way that did

not damage anyone's reputation.

Morton never complained about you.

I'm sure he did.

I'm sure he felt that my approach

was, perhaps, too modern.

So you didn't always see eye to eye?

We can still love our neighbors even

when we disagree with them.

I can get angry at God sometimes,

but it doesn't mean that I'll walk out on him.

Do you have any idea why someone would

want to kill father Morton?

No.

Murder is a mortal sin, and my poor Ligurian

bees just make honey.

They don't kill people.

Ligurian bees?

Yes, that's right.

Apis mallifera serratia.

The bees we found were cyprian.

Emery's bees, ligurian.

Right.

I'm gong to try to find out who keeps cyprian bees in town.

In the meantime, listen to this.

That passage in the Bible?

The page with the candle wax on it?

It's Romans seven seven.

God forbid.

Nay, I had not known sin but by the law.

For I had not known lust except the law had said thou

shalt not covet.

Covet, Charlie.

Covet.

Father Emery wanted Father Morton's job.

Exactly.

Are these all of them?

All except for one.

Father Emery's got Morton's last sermon.

He wants to read it at the funeral as a tribute, I gather.

Well, this one he seems

to be addressing certain members of the congregation.

This Sunday's gospel that presents us

with a parable that in certain respects

has important contemporary relevance.

The parable of the dishonest housewife.

He goes on and on and on.

Doesn't name names.

Well that could be any housewife.

True.

Listen to this one.

The corrupt means of getting gain.

This is by taking that which does

not belong to us as our own.

Also known as stealing.

It goes on.

God has condemned this practice, and has declared

that his children should leave it behind with the other works

of the flesh.

Ephesians four 28.

I think you made a mistake going into medicine, doctor.

Mm.

I can see it too.

The voice.

The delivery.

Oh, thank you so much, Betty.

But the delivery wasn't the point.

What is the point?

I need to know if this sermon or any sermon

of Father Morton's relates to one of our suspects.

Oh, not that I can tell.

But these don't appear to be only sermons,

but notes that he's taken on individual people.

Yes.

I mean here, for example.

I'm sure this is housekeeper.

The housekeeper was diabetic.

Evelyn Toohey is diabetic.

I've treated her at the hospital.

All right.

And look.

It, says here the housekeeper committed theft.

Stole a porcelain doll.

Her father took the blame.

That sounds like Evelyn.

She collects porcelain dolls.

So it's fair to say

then that she may have confessed that to Father Morton.

Now, the sermons themselves the way they are worded.

Now, I recall one about coveting.

Here it is.

Ah.

He gave a sermon about four weeks ago.

And that's the one about adultery.

Right.

Which was last week's sermon.

And the sermon that was to be given next week

was the sanctity of life.

So that's three of the Ten Commandments.

Yes.

Thou shall not commit adultery.

Thou shall not covet thy neighbor.

And the sanctity of life could also

be translated as one of the other commandments,

thou shall not kill.

Yes.

Of course.

Thou shall not kill.

Right.

Look at this Father Emery coveted Morton's job, yes?

The Lloyds, well Celia, adultery.

Evelyn Toohey.

A thief.

Whoever killed Morton must have known

he was working his way through the commandments.

When Morton posted the topic of what

was to be that next sermon, the killer knew that he or she

was next in line to be exposed.

And here's the thing, that very sermon is about to be

read out at Morton's funeral.

So Father Emery could be--

Next.

So all of his sermons were based on the Ten Commandments?

The most recent ones were.

So based on our theory, if killing

was the topic of the sermon, whoever killed

Morton must have killed before.

Because they confessed their first crime with Father Morton.

Yes.

They had to stop him before he gave that sermon.

Oh, I um, I did a background check on our suspects.

Ah, there's nothing on any of them.

Really?

Nothing?

Well, there is one thing.

Dorothy Turner's husband John.

He didn't die from the accident.

He died a few days later from surgery.

Heart complications from the accident.

Right.

Ah, and uh, here's that list that you wanted with all

the apiaries in the area.

There's only one beekeeper with those cyrpian bees.

We need to find Emery.

He'll be getting ready to deliver

that final sermon of Morton's.

Whoever killed Morton could potentially

target Emery at any point prior to the funeral.

And quite frankly, we could use his help with his list of bees.

Dr. Blake.

What can I do for you?

Hello, father.

Just a few more questions, really.

Um, some weeks ago, Father Morton spoke

about coveting in a sermon.

And I wondered, did he make specific reference to you?

Because he thought that I wanted his parish?

Yes.

Do you know thou shall not covet is

about the only commandment which focuses on one's intention

and not on one's action?

I may have wanted Father Morton's position, his parish,

but all I did was write letters to Melbourne.

We found this open over by the confessional booth.

I think someone wanted to make it look

like you killed Father Morton.

They'd been reading a passage about coveting.

For someone who is not a member of the congregation

you certainly seem to have studied your Bible.

I have the address of a beekeeper

who breeds cyprian bees.

The same variety of bee we found in the confessional booth.

I was hoping you might help me.

The church does not want to have anything

to do with this investigation.

Yeah.

But, I need to know what happened to Father Morton

as much as you do.

Thank you.

And Dr. Blake.

Don't let God go because you couldn't

hear him when you needed to.

Don't let hurt decide your faith.

So the owner's been away for the last week?

Yeah, Yeah.

We've spoken to the neighbors.

I guess we're hoping to find anything that looks well,

out of the ordinary.

I'll point out anything that I see.

Thank you.

Cyprian bees.

Ah.

There's a lot of activity here, but nothing unusual.

What does that thing do?

Smoke.

Keeps the bees calm.

But we will need to stay relatively still and quiet.

No sudden movements.

Goodness.

It's fine.

Keep still.

That's what the nets are for.

Yes, of course.

Now this lid has not been replaced properly.

It's definitely been tampered with.

Yes.

You see, this hive is dilapidated.

That crowding is not usual in a healthy concealed hive.

Right.

Charlie, no fingerprints, but there are finger impressions.

I'd say they were wearing gloves.

I'll take your word for it, doc.

Ah.

Cigar ash.

Cigar ash, you say?

That's been used by an amateur to calm the bees down.

Yes.

Charlie.

I think we have our killer.

Here we are, Charlie.

I'll tell you, Lawson was right about staying

away from the church.

I didn't realize we had an appointment, gentlemen.

Ah, Mr. Michaels I don't suppose you

happen to have a cigar on you?

I have a long line of patients waiting outside.

Surely you understand that.

Or perhaps you're not in great demand as a doctor.

I'm told any amateur going near an apiary,

and hadn't done their research of course,

will know that cigar smoke calms bees down.

Bees?

Yes, bees.

The ones you took from that apiary just outside town.

The same ones you held in a glass jar

and smashed into the confessional booth,

killing Father Morton.

Two years ago, Dorothy Turner was referred

to you with a brain injury.

An injury she sustained after being severely

beaten by her husband John.

Now, three months later, he was involved in a car accident.

According to hospital records, you were the surgeon

who operated on him.

There's beeswax resin on these gloves, doctor.

And imprints on the lid of the hive,

which will no doubt match your driving gloves.

Put yourself in my shoes.

I operated on Dorothy Turner multiple times

to repair the damage inflicted on her by that monster.

Yes, I understand.

He pushed her down the stairs.

No, no, no.

First he beat her, then he pushed her down the stairs.

Then he stomped on their head, and then he butted

out his cigarette on her arm.

That was the last of a long line of injuries.

So you let him die on the table,

and then you confessed all to Father Morton.

That is one Hell of a secret, isn't it?

When did you realize you were in danger of being exposed?

I Am a doctor.

I noticed his symptoms a year ago.

But when he started breaking the secrets of the confessional,

I knew I had to act.

Thou shall not kill.

Clearly you didn't consider the irony.

Morton was aging.

He was going to die of that brain tumor within a few months

anyway.

Oh I see.

So you just help things along, is that it?

Mysterious ways, doctor.

I am simply God's servant.

Mr. David Michaels, I

need you to accompany me down to the station where

you'll be formally charged with the murder

of Father Cyril Morton.

Lawson.

I think you'd be very proud of your senior Constable.

Couldn't have found Michaels without him.

Matthew.

What's going on?

I've been summoned to Melbourne

on disciplinary charges.

I'll be facing a special branch committee

set up for such matters.

Apparently they've been keeping an eye on me for some time.

Boss.

I haven't been--

I said they.

Not you.

An interim station boss will be appointed in my absence.

Until then, Davis, you're the senior officer.

Well done today.

Thank you, sir.

Hang on a minute.

Disciplinary charges?

Oh, it's shorthand for police politics.

I've become inconvenient.

Well, I'll drive you to the station.

That's all right.

I've organized an officer to take me

Oh, I see.

I trust you'll call from Melbourne, let

us know when you'll be back?

Exceptional work, Lucien.

You too, Matthew.

Good morning.

You're up early.

Yes.

I thought I might take a walk.

You know it's still dark out there?

Oh it's the best time of the day.

No one else around.

You worried about Matthew?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

I'll get you some breakfast.

Oh, I might, I might walk first, if that's all right.

Um, you know, Evelyn was telling me she

and Father Morton didn't always get along.

But it didn't stop them from being great friends.

Ah, that's true.

I was reading his final sermon.

He.

Was talking about the sanctity of life, how that translates

as, live and let live.

Mm.

We must respect the differing opinion of one another.

Yes.

It's the differences that make us interesting.

Yes, I know.

It's been a long time since I--

was last here.

A funeral, in case you've forgotten.

It's all right.

I didn't come expecting an answer this time.

Though I imagine Father Morton did.

Did he know he was losing his mind?

Did he kneel right here and ask you for your help?

I'm sure he did.

And what did you give him?

A sign?

Or nothing?

All these children-- your children--

begging you for help.

What father ignores his children?

You know I can't.

I can't.