Original subtitles

Fancy a whirl tonight?

You must be joking!

Oh, come on, twinkle toes.

Come on!

Subtitling made possible by

Acorn Media

♪ Well, they're shaking

on the dance floor ♪

♪ They're shuffling

on the street ♪

♪ Well, come on, Mr. Music Man ♪

♪ You're killing me

with that beat ♪

♪ Oh, the sun went down

this morning ♪

♪ And the moon came out

in style ♪

♪ Whoa, come on, Mr. Music Man ♪

♪ You're killing me

with that smile ♪

♪ Whoa,

I could dance the night away ♪

♪ Dance the Devil to his grave ♪

♪ He moves to the left,

he moves to the right ♪

♪ Come on, Mr. Music Man ♪

- A Tiger Moth.

- A Tiger Moth?

And it has a top flying speed

of 130 miles per hour.

Is it a de Havilland?

The engine, Charlie.

It does have one, I hope.

Oh, yes.

And wings?

At least two.

- How much?

- £500.

They're over £1,000 new.

Mechanic says

she's in mint condition,

only six hours' flying time.

Why so low?

What's wrong with her?

Nothing.

Mother bought it for me.

Vic promised to teach me to fly,

but he never came back

from the war.

Anyway, I get giddy

standing on a chair,

so it's been gathering dust

in a hangar for years.

Why sell it now?

I need cash, and Mother keeps

the purse strings very tight.

I just need to attend

to something.

You promised me a dance,

Charlie.

I hope you haven't lured me here

under false pretenses.

I shouldn't worry

about any shortage

of potential dance partners.

♪ Killing me with that beat ♪

Back in a jiffy.

♪ And the moon came out

in style ♪

♪ Whoa, come on, Mr. Music Man ♪

♪ You're killing me

with that smile ♪

♪ Whoa, I could dance

the night away ♪

♪ Dance the Devil to his grave ♪

♪ He moves to the left,

he moves to the right ♪

♪ And, come on, Mr. Music Man ♪

♪ And you can keep

your whiskey ♪

♪ You can keep your gin ♪

♪ You can stop your preaching ♪

♪ 'Cause it ain't no crime

to sing ♪

Who were

those charming gentlemen?

Charles, what's wrong?

What's going on?

I'm in a situation.

It's a little sordid.

I specialize in those.

I wonder if I might have

the pleasure of this dance?

No, you run along.

It can wait.

Well, don't go too far.

My compliments on the band,

Mr. Stone.

The Devil's music.

Must compliment the Devil

on his taste.

Somebody, help!

Leonard, speak to me!

Len!

What's going on?

- Len!

Has he passed out?

Someone needs to find

an ambulance.

Somebody call the police.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Zounds.

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, sir.

Well, well, Miss Fisher.

Nice to see you, too, Jack.

Another murder, no less.

Let's not make a habit of it.

His name's Leonard Stevens, and

he appears to have been stabbed.

Do we know by whom?

We were all dancing,

and he just collapsed midsong.

That's his dance partner

over there.

Do we have a murder weapon?

No.

But rather a suspicious lot

of cash to be carrying around,

don't you think?

You went through his pockets?

I've a mind to charge you

with interference.

Come on, Jack.

I secured the scene.

Log it.

Let's see if we can come up

with a weapon.

And I want everybody searched.

The -- The women, too, sir?

There's no lady constable

to call on, Collins.

Do your best.

He was going to marry me.

Sure he was, sugar.

And I'm the Queen of Sheba.

Look, there ain't nothin' here.

And there ain't nothin' here

that's good enough for you.

Mm-hmm.

Can't you take pity on him?

Make me an honorary constable.

Uh, no, thanks.

Collins could do

with the practice.

Has he asked Miss Williams

to the Firemen

and Policemen's Ball yet?

Not that I'm aware of.

Dottie wouldn't keep that

to herself.

He tells me he's working on it.

So, how well did you know

Leonard Stevens?

Who said I did?

I thought from the comment

you made to Pansy earlier.

He's been hanging

around this club

since we started out

a few weeks back,

and I've seen enough

to know he's a creep.

Ah, Miss Fisher.

I see you've made

Nerine's acquaintance.

Allow me to introduce

Ben Rogers,

the best cornet player

in the Southern Hemisphere.

I know it's hardly the time

or place, Mr. Rogers,

but I enjoyed your solo.

Easy, sugar.

He's a married man.

What's the matter?

Ain't you ever seen

a black-and-white married couple

before?

As far as I'm concerned,

everybody should be allowed

to marry whomever they choose,

though, personally,

I'm not the marrying kind.

Make your way

towards the exits, please.

I understand

you're the band leader.

Did you see anything

from the stage?

I was dancing with Miss Fisher.

I thought Mr. Freeman

was your dance partner.

In fact, where is Mr. Freeman?

Couldn't cope

with the sight of blood

and rushed to the gents'

to retch his heart out.

Constable?

So, good vantage point

from up there.

Do you recall seeing anything?

I remember Nerine.

All those glasses smashing.

When my baby's hopped on jazz,

he don't remember nothin'.

No one left in the gents', sir.

Left the scene

of the crime. Interesting.

It's all over

the newspaper, miss.

Your friend, Mr. Freeman.

He's wanted for questioning.

Did he do it --

Mr. Freeman -- the murder?

I wouldn't have thought

Charles the type,

but then I have no idea

why he chose to escape

out the bathroom window.

Was Constable Collins there,

miss?

Yes, Dot.

Dashing as ever.

And I must tell you, Dot,

Mr. Collins wants to invite you

to the Firemen

and Policemen's Ball.

Well, he's leaving his run

a bit late.

It's this Saturday.

Yes, well, he might need

some encouragement.

Like what?

You might need to invite him

instead.

Me ask him?

It's just not how it's done.

Poppycock.

A Mrs. Adele Freeman

on the telephone.

She's most insistent she speak

with you about her son Charles.

Mrs. Freeman won't be long.

If only Vic were still with us.

Thank you for coming so quickly.

I've been worried sick

about Charles.

Still no word, I take it?

No, nothing.

Oh, Phryne, I can't believe it.

They think my Charlie

a murderer.

They'll hang him.

I know they will.

I-I can't lose another son.

I'll do whatever you want,

pay any fee.

Don't worry, Mrs. Freeman.

I'll do my best

to protect Charles.

Thank God.

No payment will be necessary.

Vic and I were very close once.

That's enough for me.

Well, thank you, child.

Thank you.

Oh, a sherry?

Did you know Leonard Stevens?

The murdered man?

No.

Charles never mentioned him?

Not that I recall.

I saw them talking together

at the club.

The conversation

got quite heated.

I need you to prove

my son's innocence, not guilt.

Do you have any idea

where he is?

Charles has a set of friends --

frivolous, idle young men

who have no thought to work.

Life for them

is one big celebration.

Anyone he might have

confided in?

You could try speaking

with Bobby Sullivan.

He and Charles

are thick as thieves.

So, all we've got to go on

is this Sullivan bloke lodges

somewhere in Richmond?

From what I know.

But he's not fond of work

and likes a bit of a party.

And Mrs. Freeman mentioned

that Charles and Bobby play

competition darts

at a hotel somewhere near

Sullivan's flat

every Thursday.

Gonna be hard to track him down

on that much information.

Kingston Pub runs

a big darts comp.

Good.

Now someone's thinking.

I'll leave it in

your capable hands, gentlemen.

This wound is small

and unusually neat.

There's no tearing present,

suggesting

that the angle of attack

was more likely horizontal,

like a rapier.

There was no swordplay

at The Green Mill last night.

Horseplay, on the other hand...

Hello, Jack, Constable Collins,

Dr. Johnson.

I'm -- I'm afraid this won't do.

I have never seen a woman

set foot inside this building

in my time.

Miss Fisher is under

the mistaken impression

she's part of

the Victorian Constabulary.

Come on, Jack.

Mrs. Freeman has asked me

to look for her son,

and I promise to share any leads

I come up with

during my own investigation.

You may stay, on the proviso

you utter not one word.

Do you follow?

Most likely, the weapon

was some sort of thin knife,

a stiletto, perhaps.

Or a hat pin?

It's possible.

Constable?

Uh, I'm afraid there were

so many women, sir,

I-I didn't think to check.

You seem so certain

that Charles is guilty,

but, pray, tell me,

what was his motive?

Witnesses saw them arguing.

Perhaps his motive was money.

Then why did he leave

the cash behind?

Perhaps because you fished it

out of the deceased's pocket

before he had the opportunity,

Miss Fisher.

Charles needed cash.

He practically begged me

to buy his plane.

But I don't believe

he's capable of violence.

His record speaks otherwise.

He has a record?

He was recently charged

with affray.

Punched a man in a public bar.

Do we know who this man was?

The deceased, Leonard Stevens.

Who's our guest?

Won her in the darts comp.

Congratulations.

We tracked down

your Sullivan bloke.

He's waiting in the parlor,

miss.

Thank you.

Chicken fricassee tonight,

Mr. Butler?

Don't you listen to her,

Mildred.

I went to a party directly

from The Green Mill.

Didn't get in

till the wee hours.

Paying for it now, of course.

Ghastly hangover.

A murder?

Not long after you left.

Good God.

Who was the victim?

A man called Leonard Stevens.

The police think

Charles is guilty.

What?

Charlie wouldn't hurt a fly.

Apparently, that's not true.

What was going on between

Charles and Leonard Stevens?

I don't know anyone

by that name.

That's odd.

I swear I saw the three of you

in a rather heated discussion

at The Green Mill.

I think you've got me mistaken

for someone else.

Now, if you've finished

with me...

I'm late for a luncheon.

Don't let me keep you.

Bye, Mr. Sullivan.

It was a fluke!

Come on, then.

Show me how it's done.

We need to put a tail

on Mr. Sullivan.

As much as I like

to live dangerously,

let's lose the darts.

Stay back.

I'll be fine from here.

Stevens had no listings, sir,

but I asked around.

I'll drive, Collins.

Make the next left, sir.

That looks like it.

Corner of Highbury Road.

And I believe

that's Miss Fisher.

Miss Fisher.

What are you doing here?

I could ask you

the same question.

Please give that back.

It belongs to me.

Most interesting,

given that this is

Leonard Stevens' apartment.

I don't want to

have to hurt you.

Turning to break and enter,

are we, Miss Fisher?

Hello, Jack.

Actually,

I don't think I broke anything.

The window was already open.

And like Peter Pan,

you just flew in.

Actually, Bobby came in first,

and I just followed him.

Bobby Sullivan,

meet Inspector Robinson.

Bobby was at The Green Mill

last night,

and he's a very good friend

of Charles Freeman's.

What's your story?

Hand it over.

Is that...

Oh, dear God.

Break and enter?

You're not seriously

going to charge me?

Miss Fisher, please.

If you could stand

as still as possible,

that would be much appreciated.

Thank you.

Steady, and 1, 2...

Miss Williams.

At last!

My visitor.

Dot, what have you brought me

for lunch?

I thought you were telephoning

your solicitor.

My solicitor can't cook.

Oh.

Will that be all, miss?

Yes. Thank you, Dot.

Why don't you show

Miss Williams out?

- It's all right if you're busy.

- Just...

I can wait.

Okay.

Cit--

City South Police Station,

Constable Collins speaking.

Let's see.

Try this gratin, Jack.

You're not taking this situation

seriously.

I haven't taken anything

seriously since 1918.

Shouldn't you be clapping me

in irons?

Too much paperwork.

If I feed you some more,

may I see what's in that folder?

Mmm.

Did you know

Charles was a homosexual?

Well, I do enjoy having

some effect on a man,

and my powder was clearly wasted

on Charles.

The photos were taken

by Leonard Stevens.

He was extorting money

from them both.

So you think

that gives Charles a motive?

It gives Bobby Sullivan

a motive, too.

What will become of them?

Aside from being

murder suspects,

they'll stand trial for sodomy,

and, if found guilty,

serve time.

A jail sentence

for loving someone.

I am the servant of the law,

not its master.

Well, in this case,

the law is an ass.

He'd been

blackmailing us for months.

Up until last night,

Charles had been the one making

all the payments to Leonard.

Each one was supposed to be

the last.

But it never was.

No.

I told Leonard

we had nothing left.

Not that he believed us.

He said he'd go to the papers

with the photographs.

Is that when you'd had enough?

He had the plates hidden

somewhere.

We couldn't go to the police

or we'd end up in jail, anyway.

We were trapped.

And that's why you broke in

to Leonard's apartment?

Once I knew Leonard was dead,

I knew the police would be

going over his affairs.

I wanted to beat them

to the photographs.

Do you think Charles

killed Leonard Stevens?

I wouldn't blame him if he had.

Poor, dear Charlie.

If the money on Leonard Stevens'

body wasn't Charles',

whose was it?

I suspect Leonard had quite a

number of unwilling contributors

to his bank account,

including a Mrs. Freeman.

Charles' mother?

I contacted

Leonard Stevens' bank

for a copy

of his financial transactions.

Apart from a whole lot

of unexplained cash,

it seems Mrs. Freeman had been

sending a check every month

for the last two years.

Maybe Charles persuaded her

to help him?

A mother's shame, perhaps?

And she grew tired

of digging him out of trouble?

- So his lifeline ran dry.

- And he became desperate.

Desperate enough to try and sell

you a plane you don't want

and, perhaps, desperate enough

to kill someone.

Who says

I don't want that plane?

Here. You take this.

You have that lean, hungry look.

Come on, Dot.

Yes, Miss.

So, Collins, did you ask

Miss Williams to the ball?

I'm, uh...

I'm not sure about her, sir.

Good God, man.

It's just a dance,

not a proposal of marriage.

I-I think...

I think she might be a Catholic,

sir.

Oh, for God's sake.

It's not as if she were born

with two heads.

Well, that'd be preferable

in the eyes of my mother.

I telephoned.

Bert and Cec should be here

any minute now, miss.

A job for you, Dot.

Is it dangerous, deceitful,

or dodgy?

This one's almost devout.

St. Anthony's in Alphington.

Sound like your lot?

Definitely.

The one by the railway line.

Find out if any wedding banns

have been posted recently

under the names of our dead man,

Leonard Stevens,

and

a Miss Pansy Annabelle Shore.

You take the cab.

When you're done at the church,

meet me at Mrs. Freeman's.

Mrs. Freeman, you told me

you didn't know Leonard Stevens.

I don't see how it's relevant.

Not relevant?

Your son has been accused

of his murder.

Leonard Stevens used to work

for the family.

Claimed he was an accountant,

but he was nothing

but a scoundrel and a cheat.

I dismissed him.

That was a long time ago.

Well, he's been paid

a princely sum

from your personal check account

for the past two years.

You clearly knew him well,

and you have remarkably

few regrets about his death.

I don't like your tone.

And I don't like being lied to.

Were you protecting Charles?

Charles was also paying off

Leonard Stevens.

Charles?

I presumed you knew

all about it.

Leonard Stevens

was in possession of...

compromising photographs.

Evidence of Charles'

particular disposition

when it came

to his choice in lovers.

Charles is of

no particular disposition.

He has just not found

the right woman yet.

I don't know that he will ever

intend to find the right woman

or any woman at all,

if the photographs

are anything to go by.

Oh.

Where are these photographs now?

With the police.

My Charlie?

So, how was church?

Mr. Stevens' and Miss Shore's

wedding was canceled

a day after the banns

were posted.

Father Kenny thinks

the groom got cold feet.

So Pansy's a jilted bride.

How interesting.

Thank you, Dot.

Pansy.

That's a very appropriate name

for someone

in your line of business.

I've already told the coppers

everything I know.

Clear off.

I've got a living to make.

Your fiancé made

a very comfortable living

out of keeping other people's

secrets nice and safe,

for a price.

Leonard never talked shop

with me.

I suppose you were too busy

making wedding plans

that never came to pass.

Must have been disappointing --

ordering the invitations

for your big day,

only to have Leonard

get the jitters

and call the whole thing off.

Wasn't called off.

It was postponed.

Leonard had a business trip.

Shows how much you know.

A business trip?

Still,

if I'd been in your shoes --

My shoes?

What would you know

about anything?

You, with your fancy clothes

and your good looks.

You can have any man you like.

Girls like me, it's not so easy.

Irises for the wife, sir?

I'll take the lot.

Did Leonard have

other girlfriends?

Well, what do you reckon?

He was a charmer.

Then I wouldn't blame you

for wanting to wring his neck.

There was one girl,

could smell her perfume on him

a mile off.

Sickly smell, like dead roses.

I don't recall inviting you

into my dressing room.

I'll overlook it just this once.

Nice fragrance.

What is it?

Midnight Rose.

Did Len like it?

Sorry.

Your husband's name is Ben,

isn't it?

Girl, you must be half fried,

'cause you ain't making

any sense.

His fiancée seemed to think

he was sweet on you.

I am a happily married woman,

and even if I wasn't,

I would hardly break the bonds

of a marriage

for a sap like Leonard Stevens.

Nobody I know liked that man.

Even the night

he was bumped off,

someone had him cornered out the

back with a pistol at his neck.

Do you mean Charles Freeman?

Not that Ethel.

I know Charlie.

It was some mug

with a big hat and a scarf.

Why didn't you tell the police?

And why would I tell

the cops anything?

I hardly got a look

at the mystery man.

But you know if I did

and if he did pull that trigger,

I still wouldn't tell the cops.

What on earth did

Leonard Stevens have on you?

Everything all right?

Everything's fine, honey.

Miss Fisher was just admiring

my perfume.

♪ Whoa, oh-oh-oh ♪

♪ Whoa, oh-oh-oh-oh ♪

♪ Whoa, oh-oh-oh-oh ♪

So, were they married here

or in America?

Here.

Nerine's from Virginia.

They don't allow

interracial marriages.

I hosted the wedding myself.

That's kind of you.

Well, I was looking after

number one.

I secured the best jazz singer

in the business.

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

May I borrow this photograph?

I'll consider it,

if you'll consider allowing me

to escort you home.

Sonny Clay's

Plantation Orchestra.

Hit the Tivoli Circuit in Sydney

a few weeks ago,

and then they're heading

down to Melbourne.

I've read about them.

35 black musicians.

Must be quite a band.

Big hit with the ladies,

so I hear.

Must have made them very popular

with the authorities.

Ah, that's nothing

a jazz man can't handle.

You have me thoroughly

syncopated, Mr. Stone,

but I'm not ready to swoon

just yet.

Well, that's a shame.

How about you tell me

what Leonard Stevens knew

about Nerine Rogers?

You're the band manager.

What you don't know

isn't worth knowing.

He must have had something

on her.

A skeleton in the closet,

a shameful secret?

Maybe she was wanted

by the police.

I'm going to have to get

my head right.

I'm not quite following you.

What's the matter, Mr. Stone?

Cat got your tongue?

Still no firm suspects, miss?

Too many suspects, Dot.

That's the problem.

There's Bobby, Pansy,

Charles, Nerine.

Mrs. Freeman has her reasons,

and Tintagel Stone knows more

than I can coax out of him.

It's as if Leonard Stevens

had a target on his back.

Could you pass me my magnifier,

please, Dot?

Nerine said she saw a man

threatening Leonard Stevens

in a laneway,

a man with a large hat

and a scarf.

It can't be.

That's a flyboy's scarf

if ever I've seen one.

Aviators wear them.

And is that so mysterious, miss?

It is when the aviator's

supposed to be dead.

Dot, get me the number

for the Repatriation Department.

Oh, and, Dot?

Constable Collins will be coming

to collect this photograph.

Would you mind dealing with him?

I'll try my best, miss.

Victor Freeman.

- Miss Williams.

Morning, Constable Collins.

Miss Fisher asked me

to give this to you.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

And I'm sure

she wouldn't mind you borrowing

this magnifying glass,

should you need

to see the details.

Well, we have magnifiers

down at the station.

Much appreciated, all the same.

Oh, well, suit yourself, then.

And these scones,

they're warm from the Kooka,

with Mr. Butler's mulberry jam

and clotted cream.

Thank you.

Uh...

I-I was wondering if --

I mean, would you...

I suppose what I'm trying to ask

is -- is would you...

Oh, for goodness sake,

Hugh Collins.

Would you do me the honor

of accompanying me

to the Firemen

and Policemen's Ball?

No.

I-I mean, yes.

Yes, but, no,

I'm supposed to ask you.

Well, we could all die waiting

for that to happen.

And I have to sew my dress.

And all this time,

I thought you'd never be seen

with a Protestant.

Um, a Protestant?

You -- You being Catholic,

that is.

Uh, well...

Well, it's not like I was born

with two heads, is it?

No.

And it -- it -- it's just

a dance, after all.

That's right.

No harm in a dance.

Anyone home?

Hello?

Stop this nonsense at once!

Leave me alone, Mother.

I'm warning you.

Charlie,

this is a fool's business.

You must turn yourself in before

the situation gets out of hand.

It's already out of hand!

I'm a wanted man, Mother!

Half the Victorian Police

are hunting me.

You can't outrun them, Charles.

What are you doing here?

Your mother's right.

Running's not the solution.

I'm not going to let them slip

a noose around my neck.

You'll never make it.

All the ports are on alert.

Then I shall go out

in a blaze of glory.

I don't think that's an option

your brother would approve of.

Is it, Mrs. Freeman?

I made a telephone call

to Repatriation.

Oh, no, please.

This is unnecessary.

You weren't the only one

being blackmailed

by Leonard Stevens, Charles.

He got to your mother, too.

She has secrets of her own.

- Don't listen to her, Charlie.

Tell him.

It's the only way to stop this.

Vic didn't die in the war.

What?

He was shot down over Ypres.

He was wounded,

but he didn't die.

He's been living

on a war pension.

No, he was killed in action.

For seven long years,

I thought so, too.

When I found out he was alive,

I was over the moon.

An old neighbor saw him.

He was shearing

up in Talbotville.

What? I don't understand.

Why didn't he come home?

I don't understand, either.

You know, I pleaded with him,

but it was no good.

He wanted his solitude

more than his own family.

That's what the war did to him.

You let me think he was dead!

He didn't want anything

to do with us, Charlie.

How could I tell you that?

I deserved the truth!

I paid up to keep

your brother's secret,

until Stevens wanted more.

That's when Vic came to town.

I was so afraid

he'd do something terrible.

What has he done?

He was seen at The Green Mill

the night Stevens died.

No. Vic wouldn't kill a man.

We don't know him anymore,

Charlie.

He may have done it.

He may know who did.

Either way, we have to find him.

Where he is?

Charlie,

there -- there's no point.

Where in Talbotville?

I want the exact address!

Charlie!

I'll find it.

Talbotville's

at least a day's drive.

You know how to fly.

I'm a bit rusty.

Contact.

Contact!

It was considerate of Miss

Fisher to provide a photograph

of the night in question,

though I'm not sure

how it helps.

This telegram might, sir.

It's from the Police Department

in Jamestown, Virginia.

I made inquiries

about Nerine Rogers.

Bigamy?

Her previous husband

is a Jacob Reid,

and he's listed on the marriage

certificate as deceased.

Only, he's not dead.

Could be the secret

that Leonard Stevens

wanted to blackmail her with.

Good work, Collins.

Let's get her in.

Better start looking

for somewhere to put her down.

10 years I thought

you were dead, Vic.

I can't sleep without waking up

in a lather,

imagining you all alone,

dying in a ditch somewhere.

Charles is on the run

from the Victorian Police

on suspicion of murder.

He's a little overwrought.

Hello, Vic.

It's been awhile.

Tell me why you did it.

Give me the gun, Charlie.

Tell me why you made us suffer.

I'll put the billy on.

Not one letter.

Didn't you wonder about us,

about me?

All the time.

Well, that's some way

to show it.

I came back to Melbourne.

When?

Three years ago,

when mother tracked me down.

She could hardly look at me.

All she did was sob.

And I saw you arrive

from the window.

I...left before you came in.

But you saw him again, Vic,

a few days ago

at The Green Mill.

Yes, I was there.

Why?

To see Leonard Stevens.

He was blackmailing Mother,

said he'd tell you I was alive.

But money was never

going to be enough to end it.

She was frightened.

I had to do something.

Did you kill him --

Leonard Stevens?

No, of course not.

Well, somebody did, Vic.

And right now,

your brother is a wanted man

because he also had a motive

to kill Stevens.

What motive?

Charlie?

He found out I had a lover.

You might remember him.

Bobby Sullivan.

You see?

Mother wanted her hero,

but you never came back, Vic.

Not for her, not for me.

Look at you.

And look -- look at the kind

of man I turned out to be.

That's all she's got.

Charlie.

He won't get far...

unless he learns how to fly.

You flew my mother's plane.

Luckily, my skills have improved

since the first time

you took me up.

Do you remember asking me

to visit your brother,

if you didn't make it?

It took me 10 years,

but I kept my promise.

You haven't changed.

Neither have you.

Still dashingly handsome,

in the right light.

What's this all about?

We just have a few questions,

Mrs. Rogers.

Or is it Mrs. Reid?

Nerine,

you don't have to say anything.

They can't force you.

I suggest you stick

to playing the banjo

and leave the law to me,

Mr. Stone.

Look, anything you want to ask

her, you can say in front of me.

If that's the way

you both want it.

Maybe you should wait outside,

honey.

Why?

You've got nothing to hide.

We finally found out what

you didn't want anyone to know.

What are you --

What are you talking about?

In this country,

and I believe in yours,

bigamy is a jailable offense.

You're already married?

It's not how you think.

I was 16 and a fool

when I married Jake.

I didn't know

what I was getting into.

No.

No, no.

No, I don't want to hear this.

What else have you lied about?

Nothing!

None of this changes

what we have.

I've only ever loved you.

Ben, Reid was a drunken animal,

okay?

He used to beat her like a dog.

He wouldn't give her a divorce.

Hey, hey!

You let me marry her, knowing

she was already taken, hmm?

You guys wanted to be together.

I was just trying to help!

You helped yourself.

Getting us hitched was good

for the business, wasn't it?

You mercenary bastard.

You know, I always thought

you were a hack musician,

but you sure played me.

Stay here, Collins,

and take notes.

Let's move on to the topic

of Mr. Leonard Stevens.

You recall him --

large, boorish, dead.

Let's call a spade a spade.

You want to know

if I killed him.

Did you?

Well, sure, I did,

and I'd do it again.

Lowdown dog deserved it.

What did you do with the weapon?

Smuggled it out in my garter.

Honey, it was so far

up my thigh,

I would have slugged you

if you even tried.

Later that night,

I got rid of it.

Where?

Inside the cistern

above the ladies' john.

How did you kill him?

I stabbed him.

Show me.

Stand up.

Pretend this is the knife.

Show me how you did it.

Imagine I'm Stevens.

I was moving through

with my drinks,

and as I passed him,

I just stabbed him.

One more time.

Are you sure

you remember correctly?

It ain't something

I'm likely to forget.

A word outside, Collins?

One moment, Mrs. Rogers.

The angle of attack

is all wrong.

You don't think she did it?

No, she's protecting someone.

Question is, who?

Her husband, the cornet player?

That's what I thought, too, but

he was onstage the whole time.

And too far away.

Better take a car

to The Green Mill.

See if you can find the weapon

where she said.

Do the police really think

Charles is capable of murder?

My money was on you.

I gave him a scare, that's all.

I keep trying to piece together

what happened.

Nerine looked back at the band.

The glasses smashed,

the cornet went awry,

Pansy screamed,

Leonard slumped,

and then all hell broke loose.

So, what was Ben doing

that worried Nerine so much?

You must be half fried, 'cause

you ain't making any sense.

I think we should head home

at first light.

But how will you clear

Charles' name?

I think I know

who killed Leonard,

and I have an idea how.

Stay here with me, Charlie.

Even if Phryne can get you

off this murder charge,

they're still

going to lock you up.

So what do I do --

hide out here

while Bobby faces jail

by himself?

I can't do that.

You're right, Charlie.

Hiding's for cowards.

You're a braver man than I am.

Dear Lord, I beseech you

to look after the little orphans

and those with less than I

and those without good health

and the zebra in the zoo,

you know,

the one with the gammy leg,

and if, after all that, Lord,

you still have some time,

perhaps...

perhaps you could send

Mr. Collins some kind of sign,

you know, to let him know

you're Catholic.

See?

He's made modifications

here and here.

I don't know who has

the more fanciful imagination.

Rogers for coming up with it

or you for working it out.

Jack!

Me, obviously.

Show in Mr. Rogers, please,

Constable.

The man himself.

Your instrument, I believe.

And our murder weapon.

So what?

Doesn't prove a thing.

You're jumping the gun.

No one's accusing you.

We already have our murderer.

Your wife gave us

a full confession.

Nerine?

I don't believe you.

Your wife's statement.

It's all there

in black and white.

She confessed to everything.

She killed him

because he was blackmailing her

about the bigamy.

He demanded sexual favors,

and she had no choice

but to submit.

Stevens is the real scoundrel

in this.

Damn shame she'll hang.

Why?

Why would she...

Amazing what people will do

for love.

She didn't do it.

We were hoping

you'd do the gentlemanly thing.

Stevens started sniffing around

the first night we played

at The Green Mill.

Come in, please, Collins.

But Nerine always had

her gaggle of admirers,

so I didn't pay him

too much notice.

But one day, I caught them.

She denied it, of course,

but I knew.

Help!

Somebody, help!

I thought she loved him.

♪ My mama says I'm reckless ♪

♪ My daddy says I'm wild ♪

♪ My mama says I'm reckless ♪

♪ My daddy says I'm wild ♪

♪ And I ain't somebody's baby ♪

♪ But I'm an angel child ♪

Absolutely divine, Dot.

You're such a clever girl.

Now for the finishing touch.

Beautiful.

Oh.

No, miss,

I'll go and take it off.

It's too much.

Mr. Collins for Miss Williams.

Hello, Hugh.

Not bad for a Catholic.

You summoned me,

Inspector Robinson.

Yes.

I found these plates

underneath the floorboards

of Leonard Stevens' apartment.

And what do you want me

to do with them?

Have them incinerated.

I thought your hands were tied.

Yes, but yours are not.

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