Original subtitles

Give me a tip.

- Got a tip? - Uh...

Got any pocket money? Come on, give me a tip.

Hey! No tip, no pic.

It's all right, girls. Go on.

- Thank you. - Thanks.

Oi! Hey, who do you think you are?

Someone who doesn't believe in demanding money from kids.

What I do is a skill, stamina, itchy nose, sore neck.

A bloody seagull landed on me last week.

And yet you'll break character to scam a couple of kids out of 50c.

Well, if you're so noble, why don't you tip me on their behalf?

Here's a tip,

be a better statue.

How's your morning going?

Fine.

Kinda looks like you were arguing with a statue.

So just another Thursday, then.

Lawyer Nick Dunbar-Jones,

he was found dead in a recycling bin

outside a bar called The Grosvenor,

fell from the balcony, died on impact, high levels of intoxication.

This doesn't look non-accidental.

See those papers he's lying on?

Discarded answer sheets

from the pub quiz held at The Grosvenor that night.

Still waiting.

This particular answer sheet was found in Nick's mouth.

It's the sudden death round answer sheet.

Stop!

Well, that's a statement if ever I saw one.

Any DNA evidence?

None, just a few dark red cotton fibres.

We're still testing.

Here, we have the Top Two Inches, Nick's trivia team.

These beautiful people are a trivia team?

Wait a minute. I know that guy,

I figured it's always nice to reconnect with old enemies, right?

Baxter Wells is not an enemy. He's just a bloody pest.

Well, he and his team were seen fighting with Nick

after the quiz just before he died.

These people threaten lawyers and letters from members of Parliament

every time I try to get a straight answer out of them.

Just take a look for me?

All right. I'll take a look, one look.

But if Baxter Wells takes this as some kind of encouragement...

I'm coming for you.

Fair enough.

Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com

This is unlike any quiz night

that I've ever been to.

I wouldn't know. I've never been to one.

What, you've never, ?

- No, of course you haven't. - Mm.

Well, this was more like a glam party with some questions thrown in.

And I'll tell you what, no one else in the room that night

was upset that the Top Two Inches lost.

- Because...? - They always won, like, always.

And some of these photos are pretty obnoxious.

We've got Elliot Griggs, cosmetic surgeon to the rich and gorgeous,

- looking to turn back time. - Mm-hm.

Cori-Michelle Sage, she owns that, um... that chain of pharmacies

- with the really annoying TV ads. - Oh yeah.

And your bestie, former real estate agent

turned aspiring property tycoon Baxter Wells.

I'm assuming they all have alibis.

Well, they all went home alone to their separate homes

where they all live alone.

There's no husbands, wives, partners to back it up?

Uh, divorced, single,

and sliding into my DMs every month with such regularity

I think he has a calendar alert.

And this is the paper that was stuffed into Nick's mouth.

Along with some dark red cotton fibres.

Now, the answers are written in Nick's own handwriting.

He choked on his own words.

It's called the sudden death round

because if you get one answer wrong, you're dead.

And I'm guessing one out of 10

is not a score that wins you all the chocolate.

Mm-mm.

Someone's a sore loser.

According to Harry, they shut down the quiz

for a couple of months out of respect.

They're kicking it off again tonight to remember poor Nick Dunbar-Jones.

Which means all our key suspects will be in one place.

For the first time since the funeral.

The place is owned and operated by Lydia Redfern.

Should I know who that is?

She's the glamorous face of hospo in this town.

She inherited The Grosvenor a year ago when her husband passed away.

- And is that her there now? - Bingo. Our ticket into the game.

Kia ora. You looking to join us for lunch?

Uh, actually, we were hoping to score a table for the quiz tonight.

- Oh, I'm sorry. We're fully booked. - Oh, that's a shame.

I've heard it's meant to be the best quiz in town.

It is, hence fully booked.

Oh, Lydia?

- Alexa Crowe. - Oh.

We haven't met, but I know of you through lovely Nick Dunbar-Jones.

- God, such a tragedy. - Yes. Yes, it was.

- Sorry, you knew Nick? - Through work.

And I heard that you were throwing a special event for him.

- He did love a good trivia night. - He certainly did.

- Unfortunately, it's all booked, but... - Oh, um...

Fletcher?

I'm sure we can fit in a small team in the corner.

- Oh, corner's great. - Fletcher will sign you up.

- Thank you, Lydia. - See you later tonight.

- Team name? - That is a good question.

- You named our team what? - It was all I could think of.

But there's one small problem,

according to the very serious bloke at the bar,

we need at least three people to enter a team.

Your usuals.

Hey, Reuben.

- What's the smallest state in America? - Um, it's Rhode Island.

- Reuben, you're in. - In what?

Because I'm busy that day or night.

- He'll say yes. - He will.

Is this anything to do with murder?

Calm down. It's a pub quiz, Reuben.

- It's a trivia night. - Yeah.

Nah.

I think you'll find that the correct answer in this round is 'yeah'!

Swanky crowd.

OK, keep a low profile. I need to do some digging.

Hey. Digging?

Alexa Crowe,

my favourite detective.

- You were saying low profile? - I'll handle this.

Baxter Wells.

How unexpected to see you here.

Couldn't stay away, huh?

Can I buy you a drink?

- Great idea. Let's go. - But the...

I think we both know why you're here, detective Alexa.

You know, Nick, he was a good guy. Your secret's safe with me.

- That's very comforting. - So, I'm no suspect, right?

I think that our shared history proves I'm no murderer.

I'll keep that in mind.

So, uh, who do you like for it? Oh, tell me it's Cori.

I mean, she's a mate,

but she is also about as sketchy as a $3 night in,

Whoa. I need you to be cool, all right?

- You don't know me. - Sure.

Like I said, your, uh, secret's safe with me.

What? What are you looking at?

That's a nice tie, is all. What colour do you call that, burgundy?

Hm? Maroon. Yeah, it's my lucky tie.

Sold my first penthouse apartment wearing this badboy.

So you wear it to all the trivia nights?

Sorry, why are you asking?

Do you come here for the trivia, Baxter, or the networking?

Oh, the team takes this pretty seriously, actually.

And, yeah, The Grosvenor has got some good prizes.

$200 bar tab? Pretty standard.

Yeah. And the $80,000 we got running on the...

running on the, uh... Yeah, never mind.

Who's we? Your team?

Are you upping the stakes, or is it something else?

Yeah. I forgot how intense you could be.

Only when I feel like someone's hiding something from me.

Well, you just, you just said I'm not a suspect.

No, I didn't. You did.

To be honest, Baxter...

I'm undecided.

- You all right? - Oh, I was looking for the restrooms.

Oh, you walked right past them.

Well, come on. Don't take too long. Fun and games are about to begin.

- Hey. - 'Chowderheads', really?

So, Reuben, this is Baxter. He'll be joining our team tonight.

Doesn't Baxter have his own team?

Perhaps I prefer the company here.

So, according to Baxter,

there was a bet amongst his former team members.

The prize, Lydia Redfern.

Yeah, well, it all started

when Nick asked how long after her husband died

- he should wait to ask her out. - Oh, all class.

Yeah, and then Elliot said he wanted to ask her out.

And then Cori, she starts boasting

that she reckons she could turn her.

So they made a bet.

- Well, 'bet' is an ugly word. - Yeah.

Well, sweepstakes, which lucky punter would Lydia fall for next?

Oh, the self-confidence is off the charts.

And you were a part of that bet too?

Well, the thing is I've just got so much respect for the ladies.

Do you want me to show them the unsolicited DMs

you've been sending me the last 18 months?

Oh, actually, uh, not supposed to use our phones in here,

just FYI, so maybe zip that back up.

$80,000 to the lucky winner.

- Are you serious? - What the hell?

And the heart of a recently widowed millionaire.

You're making us sound like a bunch of monsters.

Four monsters competing for money and love,

and now one of them has been taken out of thegame.

And you know what that sounds like to me, Baxter?

One very solid motive for murder.

So, you have to wait for Lydia to make the first move?

Oh yeah, yeah. We're not creeps.

And then bam, winner takes the whole prize.

Mm-hm, mm-hm.

So the stakes are high, but who are they highest for?

Oh, we'll soon find out.

- Is Elliot with one T or two? - I don't know.

No phones, please. You get one warning.

- But the quiz hasn't even started. - It has now.

- Shall I finish this elsewhere? - If you would be so kind.

Uh, welcome. Welcome back to The Grosvenor,

as we remember our... our good friend Nick.

But it's also a night to celebrate his life.

As we know, the guy loved his trivia.

But first, a toast,

- to Nick. - To Nick.

Now, Nick also loved to travel, so in his honour,

the picture round tonight

asks you to identify the country by each luxury resort.

And that shouldn't be a problem for most of you.

- OK, go now. - OK.

And the last quote in 'Who Said It?' is,

'I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.'

Oscar Wilde. Or Shakespeare.

It's always one of the two, and that's a hint.

It's Groucho Marx.

That's right. Looks like we've got a secret weapon.

Yeah, he seems like a great guy. Is he, like, a work friend, or...?

Tell me about your little pals over there.

Well, there's Elliot, a superstar surgeon complete with a God complex.

He, uh, took a total bath during his divorce.

Really?

What about Cori?

She's a little more sus, if you know what I mean.

She's basically a glorified pharmacist

peddling her trauma on TV to appeal to the normies.

And how did you get wound up in this little group?

Well, I actually got Cori into the Azure.

- The Azure? - Yeah, it's where I currently reside.

It's a new take on waterfront living with

unencumbered views of the Waitemata.

You know, I could, uh,

get you there in 25 minutes if you've had enough of all this.

- Let's go. - Really?

- Talk to them. - Them? Oh, oh!

What up?

What a night this is.

It's like all of LinkedIn in one room.

I'm Alexa Crowe. Uh, Baxter's told me so much about you.

- Elliot. - Oh. Yes.

Cori.

So, word on the street is that you are the team to beat.

We used to be.

It's more about meeting up with friends,

- making new connections. - Yeah, I totally get that.

I mean, Lydia's got quite a thing going here, hasn't she?

She's amazing. Huh?

I mean, really sad about her husband dying last year and all,

but what a catch for some lucky guy or girl.

Well, we don't think about her that way.

No, I didn't mean that to sound crass.

I mean, clearly you're dealing with your own loss.

Yeah. Yeah, we are.

- Mm. - Yeah, Nick was a great guy.

Certainly not the kind to stab you

in the back the first chance he got, anyway.

- Ouch. - Anyway, uh, have a good night.

Thank you. And you too.

The next round will start in one minute.

OK, so according to my research, Cori is doing fine,

well enough to afford prime-time commercials

on multiple channels every night anyway.

But Dr Creepy over there, he might be head-to-toe bespoke,

but his bank account says he's head-to-toe broke.

- A brutal divorce will do that, though. - Yeah.

Oi, there's one more thing. Lydia's dead husband, Winston,

he is not as flush as I was expecting.

- I wonder if he has a history. - Out.

You were warned. Come on.

- What, are you serious? - Yes, no phones.

I'll think of something.

How many official languages are there in New Zealand?

- There's te reo Maori... - Mm.

- ...and English. - There's three.

No, well, that's two. English and Maori, two.

And Sign Language. Right, Alexa?

Mm-hm. Anything else?

Uh, yeah, there are 50 volcanic cones in Auckland.

Yeah, I was, Yeah, 50.

All right, if you could get your answer sheets

over to Fletcher at the bar, please, while we take a break.

I'm just gonna be a sec. You two play nice.

What a great place. Great view.

Yes. Yes, it is.

And a great evening even if the vibe's a little off.

It's hard to grieve when you're trying to remember the names

of all five Bennet sisters in Pride and Prejudice.

- Oh, we all grieve in our own ways. - Mm.

Nick's friends seem particularly... upset.

Friends.

Those three couldn't stand Nick.

I mean, he wasn't perfect, but he was decent, you know?

A lawyer with a conscience.

That lot just used him, all because

none of them have a head for world history.

Well, if they're so awful, how come you're so chummy with them, Lydia?

Especially Cori.

I'm the one who asks the questions, Alexa.

- How did you say you knew Nick? - Well, it's Baxter I know, really.

We did sensitivity training a while back.

Hm.

You might want to ask for a refund. Excuse me.

So, I was thinking, all of the answer sheets get handed into the bar.

So how did the victim end up with one stuffed into his mouth?

According to bar staff, one of the team grabbed it back

after they marked that round cos it was the source of the argument.

Yeah, he lost in the quiz.

Yeah, a flimsy motive for murder, I know.

Don't worry, Harry, we're finding the stakes were a bit higher

than the wrong answer at trivia night.

I'm looking forward to hearing about it.

Anything else you need from me?

No idea. I've been kicked out. They thought I was cheating.

So you and Alexa are being subtle as always, then.

Of course we are, Harry.

And don't worry, I'll blag my way back in.

Yeah, I have no doubt.

There you go. Now,

I'm getting hints of pear and maybe an undercurrent of maybe citrus.

- How about you? - This glass is chipped.

And the answer to who said, 'Not all those who wander are lost'...

Definitely Ed Sheeran. Definitely Ed Sheeran.

...is, of course, JRR Tolkien.

- Oh, what? - Yup.

All right, uh, we're gonna take another short break now.

There are snacks in the dining room.

Do you want me to get you a new glass, Alexa?

Yeah, just water, please.

I'll take that.

Gosh, I thought he'd never leave. Alone at last.

What kind of a lawyer was Nick Dunbar-Jones? Family law, perchance?

- Why? - I'm just trying to connect the dots.

See, maybe he represented Elliot in the divorce,

and maybe he didn't do a good job.

Incorrect.

Maybe he represented the ex-wife.

Correct.

- How do you do that? - You see, there's motive right there.

And in the sudden death round, a medical question,

you took Nick's word over an actual medical practitioner.

Well, Elliot must have been furious.

Elliot's default mode is furious.

And yet you want me focusing on Cori and not him because...

you're his property guy? You don't want to upset a buyer?

You know what? I've tried to be nice,

but I feel like you're just using me for information.

Correct. You got one.

You know what? I'm done. I'm out.

- Good luck on your own. - OK.

Ed Sheeran.

Hi.

Um, look, thank you. Thanks very much. It's...

Thank you.

Um, excuse me, Lydia?

I've just finished on the phone with my elderly aunt in Australia.

She was nervous about a doctor's appointment.

I didn't realise about the no phones rule.

When I saw it was her calling, I just had to answer.

Fletcher asked you to leave.

Yeah. I feel a bit silly, but, you know, she, um...

she was recently diagnosed with a heart condition.

Oh, I lost my husband to a heart attack out of the blue.

I'm sorry.

Look, Fletcher can be a bit of a stickler.

He's ex-military, which can come in quite handy when the bar's rowdy.

Please, come back in. I'll sort it out.

Thank you.

Oh, Elliot. Don't make it too easy.

How are the snacks?

Average.

- Ms Crowe. - Yes?

A reminder that your team must have at least three members.

Thank you.

And I've been informed that Mr Wells has left your team.

To go back to his old team?

Who have only had two players all night. So what about them?

Oh, don't worry, Reuben.

Uh, I think our third has just arrived.

Lydia. She was asked to leave.

It's fine, Fletcher.

She was cheating. She was using her phone.

I was checking on my elderly aunt.

- Oh, really? Can you prove that? - Fletcher, honestly.

Apologies. But perhaps dear old aunt could wait till after the quiz.

Absolutely.

Come through.

I think you and I should talk.

Baxter told me what you've been saying about me.

- Oh, really? - You think I...

murdered Nick.

You seem like the sort of guy who likes the finer things in life, Elliot.

And I think that Nick helped your ex-wife take a lot of them away.

Yes, well, Valencia filled his mind with rubbish.

Nick cost you a fortune,

and he damaged your ego,

and he wouldn't let you answer that medical question.

And did you think that he stood a better chance with Lydia

in that awful little bet you all came up with?

Not all. It was Cori's idea.

I think some of the fibres from that hanky

will be a pretty decent match for the ones that ended up in Nick's mouth

along with the wrong answer that was stuffed down his throat.

These, these are life savers.

- They save lives. - You're a cosmetic surgeon, Elliot.

Look, even if I wanted Nick dead, and I didn't,

why would I risk him damaging these?

I don't know. You tell me.

OK. No, don't do that.

Don't, Just don't touch the hands. OK.

Definitely not our guy. Nick was attacked from the front.

That guy's too scared of me to try anything face to face.

- Yeah, well, you are pretty scary. - Thank you.

Hey, you know that whole 'Lydia's next love' sweepstake?

- Apparently, it was Cori's idea. - Cori from the TV commercials.

Why?

OK, I asked for some more details from Harry

about Winston Redfern's death.

- Heart attack. - Yeah, 'out of the blue', Lydia said.

But it was caused by an overdose of Afrazil.

It's an injectable treatment for diabetes.

And was Winston a diabetic? I'm thinking not.

Yeah, and double or nothing,

what condition does Cori specifically mention in her commercials?

And as a lifelong diabetic myself,

I understand how important a trustworthy chemist

is for you and your family.

- See you at the table. - Wait, wait, wait. You need some backup?

- Bless. - Yeah, yeah, just be careful.

Evening, Cori.

So you're investigating what happened to Nick.

I think we all know what happened to Nick.

Someone shoved some quiz answers down his throat

and pushed him off a building.

What I'm investigating is... was it you?

Well, Elliot was right.

- You're deranged. - That's not very nice, Cori.

Tell me about Winston Redfern, Lydia's husband.

Yeah, I know who he is, thanks.

Was he diabetic? Did he take the same medication as you?

Did you share your medication with him that night?

Just enough to kill him,

Well, that was a bit OTT.

You don't like where I was going with that?

Oh, that ain't good.

So, she threw her glass at the bathroom mirror?

Well, at my head, really.

And smashed the whole thing. What was she thinking?

Ow. But don't worry, I'm fine.

These bloody people, they come in here

and think that they can just trash the place.

Lydia, it's OK. I can deal with it.

Fletcher, it's not OK. This was meant to be a special night.

And now I've got punters hurling glassware and...

I don't care who Cori is. She's out.

Hey. No, don't, don't kick her out.

I mean, she's, she's grieving, and I can be a little insensitive.

Insensitive how?

Well, like you suggested, that training didn't really work for me.

But anyway, tonight is about remembering Nick,

so let's just focus on that.

Well, I'll certainly be giving her an invoice for the mirror.

- Yeah, and the glass. - Exactly.

Gosh, you're good at this. You a nurse? Ambo?

Combat medic.

Oh-ho-ho! What made you trade that for bartending?

I thought there'd be less bloodshed.

Look, this is pretty superficial.

You just finish bandaging it and, uh, pop on a coat, easy.

Pretty eventful old trivia night at The Grosvenor, huh?

How long you been running these things?

Oh, a couple of years.

I write the questions, tally the scores, handle the team fees, but...

- Lydia's the real star. - Mm, mm.

What about Cori? You must spend a bit of time around her, huh?

Oh, come on. I think I've earned an answer or two.

Look, Nick could be a handful after he's had a drink or two, but Cori...

she's the only one out of that whole group

that I've ever actually been scared of.

Whoa, whoa, what happened?

Uh... nothing, just an occupational hazard.

Are you serious? I told you to be careful.

Oh, stop it. I was.

- I ducked fast. - Alexa, come on.

No, it's just a little bit of shrapnel.

I knew this was competitive, but oh my gosh.

Now for my dear departed Winston's favourite round, sports and games.

Oh, kill me now.

In poker, a dead man's hand consists of pairs of what two cards?

Aces and eights.

Hey, anything else about Cori-Michelle?

Aside from the violent tendencies, you mean?

Talk about an alpha, she was dux of her high school,

New Zealand Business Award honouree...

Doesn't like to lose.

A newspaper called her chain of pharmacies

the second most successful in the country.

She sued them for not saying that she was the most successful.

I owe her a little payback.

- Reuben, another question for you. - Mm-hm.

Someone picked up some pretty swanky candle holders

from Lydia a bit before.

Ouch. They're advertising on Trade Me? Times must be tough.

Can you find out how tough?

Well, the hospo grapevine, I can make a couple of calls.

Yeah, just not at the table. You do not want to be kicked out.

Oh. Yeah.

Next question,

Michael Jordan wore what jersey number for the Chicago Bulls?

From the lady at the bar.

- Cute. - Thanks. I thought so.

Who is the only New Zealand driver

ever to be Formula One world champion?

- Bruce McLaren. - Denny Hulme.

I like things that go fast.

I bet you do.

How is your wrist?

I don't need to see. I just, um...

I didn't like you inferring that I would do anything to upset Lydia.

Mm.

And, of course, now I have upset Lydia.

I offered to pay for the mirror, but...

Why were you all fighting the night that Nick died?

Cos he was being a total arse, and he cost us the quiz.

Right, the first loss ever for your team.

You don't like coming second, do you?

- What was the arse behaviour about? - Everything.

But honestly, we all said some stuff, and then we all went home.

The end.

So Nick's death had nothing to do with her.

Read the room, hon.

Everyone in here makes everything a competition.

Does Lydia know about the sweepstakes?

Nick was gonna tell her the night he died,

but he would've made it sound sleazy, which it wasn't.

Those three idiots thinking they're gonna be the next Mr Redfern?

As opposed to you, who's gonna be the next missus.

You know, Lydia and I have a connection.

And you didn't want Nick to destroy that.

Look, what do I have to do to prove to you that you're wrong?

Come with me... hon.

Really? A bathroom hook-up?

I mean, I'm not opposed.

Want to see the damage? I'll just take this bandage off.

OK, just breathe.

Breathe. All right?

God, you really can't stand blood, can you?

Mm-mm.

- How are you with needles? - Not good.

Not for a diabetic.

- Do you have a pump or something? - I do now.

As a kid, I had to go to the GP every time I needed to get a shot of insulin,

which was every single day.

Just the thought of injecting Winston or what happened to Nick just...

Well, it all makes sense, but it's hardly definitive.

There was no blood when Nick died.

I was with someone the night the police say he was killed.

- Valencia. - Valencia, Elliot's ex-wife?

She's a very captivating woman.

My number, in case you ever want to get a drink or something.

Or maybe I'll see you here next month.

Except you won't. There is no next month for The Grosvenor.

Look, Reuben checked with some of his hospo mates.

We're pretty sure that Lydia is shutting up shop.

Alexa, if we don't solve this tonight, they're all gonna scatter.

Cori has an alibi. Elliot couldn't kill a fly.

Well, that leaves us with Baxter.

And Lydia.

Leaving Nick aside, I don't think her marriage was all wine and roses.

OK.

And Cori told me that Afrazil has another purpose, weight loss.

Well, the story is that Winston Redfern got drunk,

went to bed, injected himself,

then forgot that he'd injected himself and did it again.

Two used doses were found, along with two injection sites on the body.

- He forgot? Says who? - Lydia, and Fletcher.

But why would Lydia kill Nick Dunbar-Jones?

Well, we know that he was getting ready to tell her about this little bet.

Maybe she didn't take it well.

- It feels a bit... - ...flimsy. Yeah.

If only somebody could look around her apartment.

I was already on my way, Alexa.

Love your work, Madison.

It's just through here.

So...

...any big leads in the case yet?

Well, I know that the only thing Nick was guilty of

- was having crap taste in friends. - Aw.

I just had a sneak peek at the quiz results.

- Want a spoiler? - Not really.

Your team has done really well.

Nothing wrong with second place.

Trust me, Baxter, by the end of the night,

you'll get what's coming to you.

Another water?

Fletcher, did you know anything about this bet situation?

I mean, you seem to be across

absolutely everything that goes on in this place.

What are the odds you missed something like that?

Yeah. You know, I... I heard rumblings.

So did Nick and Lydia find a moment alone the night that he was killed?

They met briefly in her apartment before the quiz.

But if you're implying that they fought

or that she had anything to do with it...

Oh no, no one's implying anything.

Tell me about Winston. What was he like?

He was a good boss, decent company,

terrible husband.

- Infidelities, you mean? - No, no, nothing like that.

It's just that he criticised everything she said, everything she wore.

I was surprised she coped as long as she did.

She deserves better.

Whoa. What were you doing?

Well, you weren't here before.

Alexa.

Whatever this is, I haven't got long.

I thought it's time we had one of those tough conversations.

Chipped glasses.

Auctioning off whatever you can and, uh, cutting corners on the food,

spring rolls straight from the freezer section.

How badly in debt are you?

And what are you willing to do to get out of it?

Who are you?

What are you doing here? Because it's sure as hell not quiz night.

True. I work with the police.

Really? Well, why not just say that?

Cos it tends to make people less enthusiastic about chatting.

So, a few weeks ago...

...you wrote to your clientele

practically begging them to buy gift vouchers

before the end ofthe month.

So what? What's that got to do with anything?

Well, that's an old hospo trick, innit?

Get some ready cash on hand to cover your outstanding taxes,

and then hope that you make the money back in the next quarter,

but you never quite catch up, do you?

This is Winston's final gift,

a pub mired in debt.

Well, top marks for you, Alexa. You worked it out. I'm screwed.

Losing your business, that's got to be tough.

It's heartbreaking is what it is.

I worked my guts out for 30 years for this,

for my dream, for my own place.

I didn't know Winston was mismanaging the money.

When the quiz night took off,

you'd think he'd be... he'd be pleased, but no.

I started getting all this attention.

You mean from Nick and those other numpties?

Even after Winston died. Especially after Winston died.

So you knew about the bet?

I'm no idiot.

You think Nick was pushed from the balcony, and you think I did it.

Well, did you?

Am I capable of murder? Sometimes, I think so.

Nick had the good grace to tell me about their little wager,

and I was angry, but I didn't kill him.

And I would never have hurt Winston, never.

If I hadn't have started this bloody quiz,

Winston wouldn't have got jealous and...

and started taking those stupid injections.

So you really think that Winston overdosed by accident?

There shouldn't have been any accidents.

It's the whole reason that we hired Fletcher.

'Scuse me.

What is it?

It's not what you think, I promise.

And the last question for the evening,

how many bones does the human body contain?

Alexa?

- Alexa, are you OK? - All right, time's up.

If everyone could please hand in their answer sheets,

and we'll tally the final scores.

Sorry, what?

Somebody left this at Lydia's apartment. It's a note,

'In case you ever feel like the real thing',

- and an unlabelled blue keycard. - It's not blue.

- Looks pretty blue to me. - Nope. It's azure.

- Alexa, are you sure you're all right? - Oh, I have never been better.

You know, now that the quiz is over and you can use your phone again,

I need you to do one more thing for me.

Ladies and gentlemen, the results are in.

Our final leaderboard, in third place, Risky Quizness.

Yes!

And in second place, so missing out by only two points...

The Chowderheads.

That sucks.

Which means our winners are once again the Top Two Inches.

- Whoo! - Yes!

I just want to thank everyone and let you know that our quiz night

will go on a hiatus for a little while, but, um...

Well, that's unfortunate, isn't it?

But it's been a great night, Lydia. Thank you.

And to the victors, the spoils.

But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask everybody

who isn't the Top Two Inches or Chowderheads to leave.

Thank you. Yes, this means you. Ha ha. Buh-bye.

Uh, Fletcher, can you stay a minute?

What the hell, Alexa?

There's being a bad loser, and then there's this.

Sit down, Baxter. It's time for the bonus round.

So...

who killed Winston Redfern and Nick Dunbar-Jones?

And this one's for all the marbles.

OK, start with an easy one. Question one.

Did Lydia know about the sweepstake you guys had running?

Of course she did. She's not an idiot.

But unfortunately, she also needed cash

due to the dead horse that Winston saddled her with.

And so she agreed to a proposition from Baxter Wells

to pretend that he had won your bet in exchange for half the winnings.

What?

So Baxter got to keep pretending that he's God's gift to women,

and Lydia kept The Grosvenor open a while longer.

- It's a win-win. - No way.

She's making it up.

You left that upstairs, genius.

And also...

you sent this picture of you in Lydia's

bed under the covers just for proof.

- You lying, - You are a dead man, Wells.

Well, she's been sleeping with your ex.

- What? What, you and Valencia? - Yeah, Valencia.

Strap yourselves in, kids. I'm not even to the good bit yet.

OK, question two, who here knew that The Grosvenor was in serious debt?

I mean, Lydia, clearly.

And Baxter probably put two and two together, am I right?

Cos of how much she needed the money.

And, um... well, Fletcher.

He runs the quiz nights.

He pays for all the supplies, and he handles the team fees, right?

Question three,

how many people are in all the photos out there in the hall?

Me and Winston.

Mm... Well, somebody else.

Somebody else just off to the side in every picture.

Four.

Who guessed that Fletcher has a medical background?

I know I did.

Fletcher was a medic in the army,

Fletcher who gave up that career to make drinks for rich people,

and Fletcher who was in charge of monitoring

Winston's weight loss injections,

and Fletcher

who couldn't stand to see the way that his boss treated Lydia...

Fletcher who conveniently was the last person to see Winston alive

and the one who found his body the next morning.

Final question,

who saw Nick leaving Lydia's apartment that night before the quiz?

- Nothing happened. - Of course not. No.

I mean, Nick was there to confess about this immoral little game

that you guys were playing.

- He was trying to do the right thing. - Do the right thing.

As if any of those pricks do the right thing.

Exactly.

Cos in your mind,

Nick was leaving her room after having taken advantage of her,

the beautiful woman that you were infatuated with.

So that night,

when Nick confronted you about some silly trivia question,

you saw red, and sodid he.

And you took that bar towel, and you shoved his words back in his face

before you pushed him over the balcony.

Fletcher.

I only ever wanted to protect you, Lyds.

You deserve better,

better than Winston;

better than any of this lot.

Not sure I'll be heading out to another trivia night any time soon,

so thank you for that.

Luckily, we've got the next best thing.

Mm-hm.

I think we're pretty much set. We just gotta pick the teams.

- Reuben! - Shotgun.

I said it first!

Wow. Thanks a lot

Harry! I'm gonna take Harry.

All right.

Ooh, you guys have no idea what you're in for.

- I think we do. - We're orange.

Tish Willopee doll

is based on the toy maker's

childhood imaginary friend.

If only everyone's imaginary friends came to life.

Hi! I'm Tish. Want to be friends?

Uh, unlikely.

- It's my day off, Alexa. - We can call it a date.

A freak accident.

- Oh, crap. - Well, good morning to you too.

Hey, has anyone ever told you that you would make a

wonderful action figure?