Original subtitles

We got you by my side and left the stars to be my guide. In the

dark, a voice to call, you're stronger on your own. And I'll watch the

clouds go by and I'll think about the dark.

We didn't get the chance for us to have.

Hey there, you okay?

Good morning.

Hey boss, nice day for it.

Is it?

Uh, Gina's already started.

Well, considering the location, I might actually forgive you for calling us out

today.

Right. Uh, Happy New Year.

Let's go.

You good there? Just a mo'. Uh...

The property is known as Whitecliffe Manor and its owner, Maxwell Cornelius,

our deceased, 79 years old.

He was found just after 7am by Frodo and the young woman he's with, Frances

Martin.

She's a guest of Mr Cornelius.

I'll take Frodo.

Morning, Gina.

Daniel, happy new year.

Christine, how are you?

Box of birds, thanks, Gina.

You should not keep the birds in a box. It's cruel.

Must have been a hell of a party last night.

What do you think he tied one on and blew a guess at?

Toxicology will tell us more.

A few who attended the party are still on the manner.

On it.

What happened here, Maxwell?

Was it just your time, or did you get some help?

The victim has no obvious signs of injury.

Of course, this arouses great interest in me.

Um, sure.

Anything else to add?

To die in this position, it's very unusual.

I have a deep suspicion his death is unnatural.

I feel it in... In your lagoon where the devils dwell.

You know me so well.

Plus, I found this in his pocket.

Meet me in the garden. Come alone.

Last night, Mr Cornelius, the dead guy, he hosted a masquerade ball for, like,

New Year's Eve.

That explains the pants.

Take it you've been here all night.

Yeah.

I might have overdone it a bit.

You're a friend of Mr. Cornelius?

Yeah. Nah.

He's always been pretty private.

But he was a regular at the coffee cart.

Good morning, Franklin.

Hey, Mr. Cornelius. Your usual?

Always.

A magic morning begs for a little magic.

A magic what?

It's a double -shot wrist to read out.

A three -quarters flat white.

They're pretty hard to make. I think that's why I got an invite.

A private bash to see in the new year.

Hush, hush. Keep it close.

Loose lips sink ships.

So it was supposed to be a secret party.

I don't know, man. I just went for the free booze.

Mildred Hawkins.

I'm the living housekeeper.

And how long have you been working for Mr Cornelius?

Close to 40 years.

You must be upset by his death.

Maxwell was a good employer.

And over time, he became a dear friend.

But at his age... Die.

He liked extravagant parties.

No, not really.

He mostly kept to himself, with the exception of a few close friends.

Then why hold a New Year's Eve event?

Today would have been Maxwell's 80th birthday.

He wanted to celebrate.

And with New Year's Eve, he could kill two birds with one stone.

He wasn't sure how many big milestones he had left.

Why a masquerade party?

Maxwell had a love of the theatrical.

Stems from his art history background.

Before he retired, he was an art valuer.

Oh.

What kind of art?

Historical paintings, mostly.

He was incredibly well known in the fine arts world.

Some of the big name galleries hired him on a regular basis.

They must have kept him busy.

Why are the police interested in the death of an elderly gentleman?

It's routine.

So when was the last time you saw him?

I tried to find him at midnight to wish him a happy birthday.

Well, I assumed he'd be on the balcony to watch the fireworks.

Attention, everyone.

It's almost midnight. Everyone needs to come out on the balcony to see the

fireworks.

He wasn't there?

No.

It was strange.

When did you see him last?

Honestly, I can't remember.

I was flat out all night.

Approximation will do.

I guess sometime around 11pm.

I saw him chatting with Hattie.

And Hattie is?

Hattie Anderson.

Maxwell's one -time fiancé.

Although he called the engagement off, I think she still holds a candle.

Oh, Moldred.

Didn't you get the memo?

It's a masquerade ball.

Someone needs to serve.

And I'm ever grateful to you, Millie.

Or would I do without you?

Yes, I'm sure it would be hard to find another waitress at short notice.

Hattie.

That might have been...

Humiliating. I've always known my place.

Come through.

Sorry.

I'm still, uh... Oh, please, take your time.

Finding a body can be a very confronting thing.

What a way to start the year.

How did you know Mr Cornelius?

He's a recent acquaintance.

And I didn't have any plans for New Year's, so I thought, why not?

Please.

It appears Whitecliffe Manor was the place to be last night.

Yes, it was a fun party.

Then you, uh... Up early this morning?

Yes.

Going somewhere?

I was about to get a taxi.

You're not from Brokewood?

No.

I heard that Mr Cornelius was a bachelor.

Does that mean he's got no next of kin?

We don't know that detail yet.

It will be part of our inquiry.

Why do you ask?

Just curious.

We'd appreciate if you stayed in the district a little longer.

Because?

Just in case we get curious about things.

Of course.

Oh!

This is Baker.

Gratitude to you.

You almost gave me a heart attack.

If I didn't know better, I'd think you might have spent the night here.

Well, just between you and me, I think that someone's wiped the champagne

because I barely had anything to drink. Next thing you know, I'm waking up last

down in the breakfast room.

Are you a friend of Mr Cornelia?

No. Well, he's a client, but I know to a dress -up.

I've always loved making an effort when it comes to haute couture.

Is it? Turns out my father was a cross -dresser back in the day, when you could

still call it that. Now, of course, that got him into all sorts of trouble, but

also I did wonder if the rumours were true about Maxwell, not my father. There

were no rumours there. Everyone knew that he was a cross -dresser. What

would they be?

Drinking on the job, Mrs B?

Well, nothing like a bit of stress relief when you're under pressure.

I've been tasked with organising an extra...

ravagant birthday party in eight years, and it happens to fall on December 31st.

So, as you can imagine, a lot going on.

Anyone we know?

Mr Maxwell Cornelius.

He owns Whitecliffe Manor. That rich art guy.

He is very wealthy.

The invitation list is a who's who of the Brokenwood elite.

Frodo. I don't know how he got on there, but everyone else... A bunch of snobs

by the looks.

That's a bit harsh.

Or perhaps.

Spies? Trudy had it on good authority that Mr Cornelius himself used to be a

spy. Good authority?

Clientele at the Croc and Panda, but the rumours are it had one head and two

grow in its place.

So did you find any spies?

Sadly, no.

The evening was a bit of a bust in that respect, but all the costumes were

lovely, and I had a very uplifting reading with Morgana, so it wasn't a

waste.

Well, um...

Morgana Marinkovic. Yes, she had a table set up for palm readings with her

sister -in -law, Svetlana. Well, ex -sister -in -law.

They still have the same last name, so that's a bit confusing.

I'm going to need that guest list.

Mrs Baker!

Hilverton. Lovely, aren't they?

And expensive.

Oh, yeah?

What sort of money are we talking?

Well, Maxwell reckons close to a million each.

For the pair, three million.

Detective Preston. Second Lieutenant Philip Craddock of the Third Brigade.

Oh.

Is something wrong?

Apology, you remind me of someone.

You're not Russian, are you?

Not that I know of.

Very good.

Are you lost?

What? Well, you don't live here, do you?

Or do you? Do you?

No, I'm here because... What is your relationship to Mr Cornelius?

Well, Maxwell and I are the best of friends.

We fought in the war together.

Right. Are you aware that

Mr Cornelius was found dead this morning?

Oh, joy, good.

What a wonderful adventure the old boy must be on.

It ain't, sir.

Yeah, working his skills.

Party's not started yet.

Old chap, these salted peanuts remind me of the ones we got behind enemy lines.

Do you remember? In the tins.

Tonight is a bit off, Philip.

I've just had the strangest encounter.

Was it the Ruskies?

My dear friend, it's good of you to remind me of a time when the world was

complicated.

But I may have to utilize some of my old skills to get to the bottom of this

enigma.

What kind of skills? Skills that we garnered whilst on Her Majesty's

He must have faked his own death in order to solve the riddle.

What war did you say you fought in? The only one that mattered. The Great War.

The Great War meaning World War I?

Yes, that's right.

The Kaiser's boys, they had us in their crosshairs, you know.

We, um...

We defeated them.

Yes, sir. Mint?

But not the blue ones. They're my favourite.

No, I'm fine, thank you.

Okay, that coffee was actually... God,

that is good. What did you put in there?

Coffee.

Okay.

This was found in the victim's pocket.

Meet me in the garden. Come alone.

So he was lured to the folly.

Wealthy guy, easy motive.

Yeah, believed to be a bachelor.

No neck of kin that I can find.

Well, he was once engaged to Patty Anderson, but...

Maxwell called off the engagement.

We need to trick down the well and find out who inherits. Perhaps a close

friend. Philip Craddock.

He's known Mr Cornelius for years.

But I don't think he's quite playing with a full deck.

Dementia? Something like that.

He said I reminded him of some Russian woman he used to know.

Gina.

Thanks. No.

He also claimed that he and Maxwell fought in World War I together, which

make them around 130 years old.

Well, for what it's worth, Mrs Baker has heard rumours that Mr Cornelius was

involved in espionage.

Maybe that's not that far -fetched, because I found this at the crime

scene.

Is that a hammer and sickle? Yeah, it is.

They're a Russian brand of cigarettes, comrades.

Were any of the guests Russian?

Not according to this.

Mrs. Baker provided me with a full guest list.

There were only 39 people in attendance.

The party was invitation only?

Mrs. Baker was the event planner.

Mr. Cornelius was very particular about who could attend.

Frodo. The victim had a soft spot for his favorite barista.

More curious, Frances Martin claimed she only just met Mr. Cornelius, yet she

was staying with him.

And she's not on the gift list.

Mmm.

Svetlana.

You and Morgana attended the masquerade ball at Wycliffe Meadow last night?

Yeah.

Morgana, wake up.

We have a visitor.

Morena, Morgana. Daniel, how lovely.

I knew I would be seeing you today.

Is that right?

It's Maxwell Cornelius.

He's dead, isn't he?

As it happens, Mr Cornelius was found dead this morning.

The woman who was with him last night, she told me it was his time.

My thanks again, you two, for coming this evening.

I think your store will provide some intrigue to this evening's events.

You're very welcome, Mr Cornelius. And we're expecting payment up front.

No need for theatrics just yet, Miss Meringovich.

Guests haven't started arriving yet.

I don't want to alarm you, but you should watch your back tonight.

Someone has a score to settle.

This woman, was she a ghost?

A visitor from the spirit world, yes.

She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a Russian accent, I think.

If the Russians are involved, you best believe that death was not a natural

They cannot be trusted.

Any Russian in particular?

Da, Steve Fenshaw. Has anyone ever told you that you look Russian?

With this big bald head of yours and this baltic chin. Okay, I didn't come

to be insulted. Soprano being unattractive is the least of his

Excuse me? Sotty! This good Whitney couldn't build a sandcastle if you

Maybe not, but you didn't read that in his palm.

I didn't know you could read palms as well.

She can't.

That's not nice.

I wouldn't be surprised if it's all a cover -up story.

How so?

Everyone knows that Steve is an English version for Stepan, a Russian name.

Steve did make a strange exit last night. Steve, come back. I'll give you a

proper reading.

Only KGB can

go.

Thank you for meeting with me, Ms. Anderson.

Oh, Hattie, please.

I understand that you and Mr. Cornelius were once engaged to be married.

Well, yes, but we didn't go through with it. And it was a long, long time ago.

How long ago was that?

Oh, close to 40 years.

We were but babes.

And are you still unmarried?

Not that it's any of your business, but I received a large inheritance when my

father died and never had the need for a husband financially.

What about for love?

I was once in love with Maxwell, but he was married to his work.

His work as an art valuer?

Or his work as a spy?

Well, that's just simply small -town gossip.

Maxwell's career took him all over the world.

It afforded him Whitecliffe and all these incredible works of art.

Do you know who stands to inherit?

Why are you asking me?

Well, you were close once.

We understand that Mr Cornelius has no living relative.

Well, that much is true.

For what it's worth, a young woman turned up a few days ago claiming to be

distant cousin.

Happy, my dear.

Delighted you were able to make it. Oh, 80 years young, Maxwell. How could I

miss it?

Although it feels like only yesterday, we're all in our 30s.

Hello?

Maxwell, I'm Frances Martin, your second cousin, twice removed.

Not that I believe it, but if she is Maxwell's closest living heir,

she would inherit Whitecliffe, wouldn't she?

Great. Oh, my God, you read my mind.

What did you get up to last night?

Must have been fun.

It's kind of personal, don't you think?

Is it?

I don't want to talk about it.

We have a time of death.

Is that... A bass maker?

Yes, Mike.

It recorded his time of death as midnight, exactly.

Beyond that, Gina is yet to determine a cause.

Hopefully toxicology results will shed some light.

Steve Fanshawe was seen entering the library by the Marinkovitches around 11

.45pm, after which he completely disappeared.

As in, vanished.

Which gave him the opportunity to go from the manor to the folly.

Svetlana also suggested that Mr Fanshawe could be a Russian operative.

Although her motives seem personal at best.

And Morgana? She claims a Russian goat predicted Maxwell's death.

We need to determine where everyone living was at midnight.

I'll talk to Mrs Baker. She may have filmed the event.

Good idea.

Sims? Yes.

Um, indeed.

And according to Hattie Anderson, Francis Martin claimed to be a distant

of Mr Cornelius.

Yet she's only recently met him.

Well, I don't know many of my distant cousins. She knew him well enough to get

last -minute invite.

Strike her down.

Hey, usual?

Thanks, Frodo.

Miss Anderson, good morning.

Oh, Detective Sims.

Sorry to interrupt.

Are you?

Do you recall where you were at midnight on New Year's Eve?

Why? Well, we have reason to believe that's when Mr Cornelius passed away, so

we're trying to piece together a timeline of the evening.

I don't remember.

I hope you can wind things up soon. I need to be getting home.

How long ago did you receive your invite?

Oh, I received an email from a Becky Baker while I was travelling.

No, travelling where?

Oh, you do ask a lot of questions.

Well, as you know, I'm a detective.

South America.

Always been on my bucket list.

Machu Picchu was breathtaking.

Long black, no sugar.

I really must get going. Oh, who's the lucky person?

Your ring, I take it you're engaged?

That's really none of your business.

Okay.

By the way, Frances Martin, you don't happen to know where she's staying, do

you? I don't.

She's hardly welcome at Whitecliffe.

Why is that?

Because. Where does she come from? What does she want?

So many questions.

Tried the motel.

Rude, right?

Real rude.

Yeah.

Thanks, Frodo.

I heard you had a big one for New Year's too.

Private matter.

Thanks for agreeing to meet.

I'd rather be at the beach, but what can you do?

You attended the masquerade ball at Wycliffe Manor? Yeah.

Why?

Mr Cornelius was found deceased yesterday.

I heard.

Nothing to do with me.

You were seen on the night in question entering the library before

I'm a builder, mate, not a magician.

Where did you go?

Look, I just needed to get away from those Marinkovitch women.

This could be if you couldn't build a sand castle if you wanted to. Maybe not,

but you didn't read that in his palm.

Steve, come back!

I'll give you a proper reading!

Climbing out a window, must have been some palm reading.

Well, it wasn't the reading, it was the abuse.

With this big bald head of yours and this Baltic chin?

For the record, my mother is of Norwegian extraction.

My father's family's Finnish.

No love lost with Russians.

Well, that doesn't answer my question.

Which was?

Where did you go?

Outside, obviously.

Then I went home.

How did you get into the party? You weren't on the guest list.

I did a bit of work for Mr. Cornelius a few months back.

What type of work?

It doesn't matter. This was months ago.

You should be looking at the people who were closer to the old man, like a son.

My understanding is that Mr Cornelius doesn't have any children.

That's what I thought too.

It's good to see you, Badger.

Try and enjoy your evening.

Badger, are you real, mate?

All my sins.

Is there any other next one?

How did you hurt?

I'm his long -lost son.

Well, that makes for a rather heavy kid.

Yeah.

Sounds like bullshit to me, too.

What did he mean by that?

No idea.

But what kind of name is Badger, anyway?

Sounds made up.

Let's start here.

Thanks for coming in.

Sure, whatever I can do to help.

For the record, you were at Mr Cornelius' masquerade party

on New Year's Eve.

Yes, that's where a lot of people... Well, they all had invites, but

you weren't on the list.

I was invited by Mr Cornelius directly.

Good night?

Yeah, it was.

Do you recall where you were at midnight?

I believe I was on the balcony.

You believe you were?

Well, I didn't look at the clock or anything, but I was on the balcony when

fireworks went off, so that must have been midnight.

You told DSS Shepard that you'd only recently met Mr Cornelius.

I did.

Maxwell, I'm Frances Martin, your second cousin, twice removed.

Well, well.

Your cousin Francis Maxwell.

How wonderful.

Oh, you absolutely must stay.

Indeed you must.

That's when I met him.

So are you Mr Cornelius's cousin or not?

My mother died several months ago and I found a connection to Maxwell when I was

sorting through her paperwork.

How did you know he was holding a masquerade party?

I didn't. But when Mr Craddock asked me to stay, I guess I was invited by

default.

And you just happened to have a costume?

I got it from the high place in town.

They have a great renaissance section.

Then the next morning you got up and left.

Well, after Maxwell died, it didn't feel right for me to stay at the manor, so I

got a room at the motel.

Was my understanding that you were already leaving before you found out

died?

Well, yes, but I didn't want to be a burden, so I thought I would slip away.

And while you were slipping away, you discovered Maxwell deceased in the

Yes.

And now I'm here talking to you.

Good morning.

I'm DFS Shepherd. I know who you are, Mr. Shepherd.

And unless you have a warrant, I'm afraid I can't show you inside.

And you are? Arthur Girdler, KC.

Retired.

As Maxwell's closest friend, I've taken it upon myself to protect his legacy.

I have no intention of disrespecting that legacy. Well... I find myself in

unenviable position of being Maxwell's executor, and all this confusion about

his death is unsettling.

Yeah, and I'm here to find out how he died.

Well, then it's true he was murdered.

Well, if you'll allow me inside, I'll tell you what I know.

We haven't confirmed Mr Cornelius' cause of death yet, but we have a pretty good

idea, I'm sure.

We have reason to believe that foul play may be involved.

I see.

Any persons of interest?

We're pursuing certain lines of inquiry.

Like the spy rumours?

That's one line of inquiry, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.

Well, I don't think it sounds ridiculous at all.

In fact, I'd say it was quite plausible.

Do you know something that we don't?

I suppose you want to see the will.

Maxwell updated his will two months ago.

Who is Sam Parker?

Your guess is as good as mine. I asked.

But Maxwell was very secretive about it. Did anyone else know about this?

Whoever Sam Parker is, he or she is about to become exceedingly rich.

Come on, Andy. I'm leading my fingers through the walking here.

I'm looking for a badger.

No, not a badger.

We don't have badgers in Aotearoa.

Someone called badger.

Badger someone or someone badger.

Hang five, another call. I'm going to ring you back.

Mike. We have a beneficiary for the will.

We need to locate Sam Parker.

Usual spelling?

P -A -R -K -E -R.

That's all I've got.

Andy, any guests under the name Parker?

Sam Parker.

That depends who's asking.

DC Chalmers, Brokenwood CIB.

I don't like talking to cops.

Technically speaking, I'm a detective.

I know.

Bad suit gives it away.

Most people call me Badger.

It's from my boarding school days.

Is it true you're the son of Maxwell Cornelius?

Does it matter?

The old man's dead.

Are you aware you're in his will?

No. You're the sole beneficiary of Mr. Cornelius' estate.

He's left you Whitecliffe Manor and everything in it.

This cigarette is Russian.

I know. Where did you find it? At the crime scene.

Prince couldn't lift anything.

I will send for the DNA.

That brand of cigarette used to be very popular with the KGB.

I don't think the KGB are operational anymore.

Officially not.

But the KGB continues as the FSB.

And they are not to be trifled with. If Russian spies are involved.

Mike, you must be very careful.

Trust me.

I know.

When you say you know, do you mean you know or do you know?

Let's just say, Mike, there is a very good reason why I left the Motherland.

Baker.

It's not what it looks like.

It looks like you're drinking wine.

Okay, well, it is what it looks like, but it's non -alcoholic. No, it isn't.

right.

With the stress of everything going on, I figured I deserved a treat to, you

know, absorb the situation.

Okay. All I wanted to know is, do you have any footage from the masquerade

Oh, yes.

I haven't put it on my socials yet because it seemed a bit...

Inappropriate under the circumstances.

So was he?

Was he what?

A spy.

I can neither confirm nor deny. Told you.

Can you send this to me? Of course.

Do you need it encrypted?

It's fine as it is.

Reminds me of the Battle of the Storm. We're going over the top, boys!

So Francis was there.

The only people not on the balcony at midnight were Hattie Anderson, Artie

Girdler, Steve Fanshaw and Badger, a .k .a. Sam Parker.

So where were they?

Let's pin these people down.

Gina advises that the Comrades brand of cigarette is popular with the Russian

Secret Service.

So we're back to spies again.

We are because... It turns out that there was a lot of KGB

activity in New Zealand in the mid -1970s.

Maxwell Cornelius would have been in his late 20s.

Wellington man, William Such, was charged with treason under the Official

Secrets Act.

The New Zealand government suspected that he was acting as a spy for the KGB.

Mr. Girdler was evasive as to whether Cornelius worked for the Secret Service

not. Meaning he could know more than he's letting on.

We might actually have a dead spy in our midst.

Well, whether his past life is relevant or not remains to be seen. But Gina is

yet to confirm the exact cause of death.

The birth certificate came through for Sam Parker.

His mother is confirmed as Mildred Hawkins.

Why the different surnames?

She married a James Hawkins, but they divorced a year before he was born.

She gave her maiden name to Badger, but kept her married name.

Was she trying to conceal the relationship?

Maybe, but she's on the birth certificate and the father's name is

Seems more likely that she's trying to conceal that.

Too high that Badger's father was Maxwell.

Did Badger confirm that he was Cornelius' son?

Well, not exactly.

And he claims he didn't know he was in the will.

Well, yeah, he would say that.

If Badger did know that he was Maxwell's sole heir, that's a strong motive.

And he was smoking from a pack of Comrades brand cigarettes today.

As found at the crime scene.

Could Mildred have lied to Maxwell in order for Badger to inherit the entire

estate? And it's tempting, right?

Because, despite Philip Craddock having a delusional...

view of the world, he was right about one thing.

A single silver tin recently sold for 1 .73 million.

So those two paintings at Whitecliffe must be worth stupid amounts of money.

Thanks.

I'm curious, do you smoke?

Absolutely not.

The only smoker around here is Philip.

And Badger.

What? Well, I understand Badger smokes and he comes and goes, right?

Does he? Well,

more for him.

But Philip is always sneaking off into the garden for a smoke. To the garden?

Well, he's not allowed to smoke inside.

How long has Mr Craddock lived here at Wycliffe?

Several years now.

I notice he has an unusual relationship to reality.

It's sad.

He used to be one of Maxwell's closest friends.

They met in the army in the 1960s. But in recent years, he's...

developed cognitive issues.

Some years ago, he came to visit.

Maxwell realized he was in decline, so he moved him into Whitecliffe.

Maxwell was a good man to those he cared about.

Will you just excuse me a moment?

If someone had told me 30 years ago you'd still be working as Maxwell's

housekeeper, I would have laughed.

If you've got something to say, Hattie, just say it. I'm just surprised you

never tried to get your hooks into him, that's all.

Not everyone is like you, Hattie, thank goodness.

Well, at least I didn't raise a son without a father.

Badger deserves better.

Save your sympathy.

Badger's going to be very well taken care of.

What do you mean?

What have you made Maxwell do?

He's done what any father would do for his son.

He's made sure that Badger will be provided for when the time comes. I

know what lies you've told Maxwell, but we both know he's not Badger's father.

Do we?

Mr. Craddock.

What are you up to?

Well, just keeping my eye on things. You know, there are goons around.

Um, you might want to... I can take that for you if you

like. Oh, thank you.

Comrades.

What?

I noticed it's a comrade's cigarette.

Oh, well, you take what you can get, you know.

Are you sure you're not Russian?

No. Don't worry, I'm not sure about a lot of things these days.

I mean, no, I'm not.

Mr Craddock, you were seen here on the balcony at midnight on New Year's Eve.

Was I?

Yes. Someone was filming the festivities.

Keeping their eye on things, were they?

Can you recall where you were just prior to that?

Could you give me a clue?

As I was saying, my old memory banks are a lot slower than they used to be.

Were you inside or perhaps outside?

Oh, the file!

Yes, they were wonderful.

They reminded me of the Japanese bombing Pearl Harbor.

Right.

Well, thank you. I will leave you to it.

Sorry about that.

Bird -watching, was he?

In a manner of speaking, yes, he was. He's harmless.

Bit of an old fool.

Miss Hawkins, why didn't you tell us Badger is your son?

No one asked.

Well, sure.

But he's listed in Mr Cornelius as well. In fact, he's the sole beneficiary.

You already knew.

It has nothing to do with Maxwell's death. Well, it does if it's a motive.

Badger's not involved.

You're looking in the wrong direction.

Thanks for coming in, Mr. Girdler.

Not at all.

Did you know that Badger was Mr.

Cornelius's son?

The housekeeper's boy.

What makes you say that?

Badger is Sam Parker.

I always knew the boy as a badger.

But he grew up at Wycliffe.

He was away at boarding school most of the time.

Maxwell was kind enough to foot the bill.

I always thought he was being too generous.

Is there any way that Mr Cornelius could have been Badger's father?

I don't see how it's possible.

Mildred was already pregnant when she first arrived at Wycliffe.

Okay, let's say he's not Mr Cornelius' son. Would that be enough to negate the

will? Unfortunately not.

Maxwell's will is airtight.

If Badger really is Sam Parker, he'll inherit everything.

Excuse me.

Gina. Mike, I figured out where the dog is buried.

What dog?

No, Mike. Where I come from, to dig up a dog is to find the truth. Because by

digging up the dog, you know it's actually dead.

Thanks. I'll be there shortly.

Hmm.

I have to ask, the spy thing.

Look, you didn't hear this from me, but I'm sure the statute of limitations has

passed by now.

Mr Cornelius did work for the New Zealand Intelligence Service. Briefly,

he left the army in 1972, he was recruited by the SIS.

But he resigned in 74 after an incident.

What kind of incident?

A young woman died.

Maxwell felt responsible.

That's when he realised he wasn't cut out for the espionage business.

What time did you see Mr Cornelius last?

Um, maybe 11 or 11 .30.

We got into an argument.

About what?

I don't like being lied to.

Your mother is pleased you could make it back for New Year's.

Is she?

I hope one day you two will be closer.

She did the best she could.

Anyway, I didn't come back for her.

I came for your birthday.

It's a big one, this year. The prospect of turning 80 is...

Certainly put things into perspective for me. Yeah.

Like what?

Like you.

Me?

Badger, my boy, you know I've always looked at you like a son.

I've discussed this with Mildred and she agrees.

You need to know the truth.

What truth?

About your father.

I know everything I need to know about that loser.

He took off before I was born.

End of story.

The truth is a lot more complicated than that.

Well, that's the only truth I've ever known.

And I prefer to keep it that way.

Checkmate.

You left before he told you.

Well, I wasn't ready to hear it, but I found out anyway.

I should have told you sooner.

So he is my father.

I tried to avoid him all night, but after a few drinks, I confronted him.

You can't be my father.

Mum was already pregnant when she arrived at Wycliffe.

I'm sorry, Sam. I wanted to tell you myself.

Your mother had just left her husband when she arrived all those years ago.

That's true.

But she wasn't pregnant.

What, so you knocked her up?

And decided it was better to lie to me about it for my whole life? Let me

explain. Why?

So you can lie some more?

I despise you, old man.

Where were you at midnight?

I didn't feel like celebrating, so I took off for a smoke.

Where'd you go?

To the car park.

I didn't want to see anyone.

So when Mr Cornelius died, you were in the car park?

Alone? Yeah.

Comrades, is the Russian bread... Oh, yeah?

Well, they taste like crap.

Mike, I knew something is up.

I checked again and I found it. The victim has a tiny prick.

At first, I thought it must be a mosquito bite.

But no, this is a needle mark.

What did the toxicology report say?

Oh.

Urary.

Poison? Not exactly. A strong muscle relaxant.

Once in the bloodstream... all the muscles of your body begin to relax.

Why would that be fatal?

A small dose wouldn't. But with the dose Mr. Cornelius received, he could have

died in as little as 15 minutes.

How? His lungs, too relaxed, would have stopped drawing breath.

He effectively suffocated to death.

And yet, most fascinating, his heart would have continued to pump blood for

minutes after.

That explains why he was found in the kneeling position. Imagine, in the last

moments of your life, your brain is still active, but your body is a virtual

slab of meat. For a time, he was both dead and alive.

Quite a unique death, don't you think?

Mr.

Cornelius's jugular was the injection site.

Whatever introduced the drug into his body, it was very small.

A needle.

25, maybe 27 gauge.

Thanks, Jan.

Mike, curare, it feels like the work of the KGB.

We're looking into that. Of course.

But these are serious people.

You must keep your eyes open on the back of your head.

I'll do my best with that.

Morning. Yeah. No.

Yours is over there.

You're the best.

Mr Cornelius died of asphyxia. It was caused by a concentrated dose

of curare.

It's extracted from the chondrodendron tomentosum vine, which is only known to

grow in Central and South America.

Where Patty Anderson just returned from.

It may have taken as little as 15 minutes for Mr Cornelius' system to shut

Well, that means the curare would have been administered at approximately 11

.45pm. It was hard to stop at midnight.

Of note, the offender used a blow dart.

To administer the poison.

Likely projected from a simple tube such as this.

Very covert.

Mr. Girdler confirmed that Mr. Cornelius worked for the SAS up until 1974.

Was he suggesting our victim was involved in all that KGB activity?

I figured it out.

What's that?

You're with the resistance, aren't you?

Did they parachute you in?

I'm a detective trying to understand who might have killed your friend, Maxwell

Cornelius.

Um, men? Oh, no, thank you.

Have you found him yet?

How would you feel if Maxwell...

Didn't fake his death. You mean if he's actually dead?

Maxwell was a dear friend, but he made mistakes in his life.

Everyone does, you know.

Maybe one of those mistakes led to his death.

Any mistake in particular?

I did see something strange the night before the party.

Mr.

Craddock, you scared me.

Lovely, aren't they?

They were painted in 1904.

Yes, well, I was just getting a glass of water.

Must get back to bed.

Pretty strange, don't you think?

That she didn't have a glass.

Very good.

Detective indeed.

Do you think she did something to the paintings? I think it's worse than that.

See, I have it on good authority that she works for Stalin.

Well, I think that's very unlikely because Stalin's been dead for over 70

The Cold War's not over yet.

Come in.

Thank you.

Was Maxwell Cornelius really Badger's father?

I had only been working for him a few weeks when it happened. It was a

You fell pregnant.

I'd just left my husband. It was an abusive marriage, and I'd finally found

courage to leave, so I was looking for another relationship.

Besides, Maxwell was already engaged.

To Hattie?

It was just... easier to pretend I was already pregnant.

For his part, Maxwell promised to always be there for Badger, financially at

least. Well, those Silversons alone must be worth as much as Wycliffe itself.

Maxwell may not always have procured his artwork in the most honest of ways, but

he was a good man.

What do you mean by that?

That's a Robert Knowles, worth about $350 ,000.

And as far as anyone knows, it currently resides in a small gallery in the south

of France.

Are you suggesting it's stolen?

Or perhaps displaced.

It's easier to show you.

This way.

This was the piece Max was working on before he died.

He was an artist in his own right.

You could say that.

Oh, that one's coming along nicely.

Getting there, Millie.

I believe I finally perfected the nose quirk.

A curious, ever so delicate little flick at the end of each brushstroke.

Maxwell was a forger.

I understood him to be a conservationist.

Maxwell was an incredible artist, but he sometimes appraised pieces that were

not respected by the legal owners.

He'd create a replica and then swap them out.

But some might see him as protecting our artistic heritage by ensuring that

certain pieces were kept in the hands of someone who could appreciate and

protect them.

His own hands.

I'm sure his intentions were good.

And I'm sure it's still theft.

Why are you telling me this?

I want you to catch this killer.

The way I see it, you were complicit in his forgery.

How could that be?

I'm just the housekeeper.

Thanks for taking the time.

I can think of better places to be, but... I'm sure.

You didn't say what work you did for Mr Cornelius.

I renovated the roof of his shed.

All right.

Two days of labour plus supplies.

Let's call it $3 ,800.

Very well.

Bit of an artist, aren't you?

As I recall, my paintings were carefully covered with drop cloths. Yeah, well, I

had a look.

Seems you've replicated some pretty well -known New Zealand artists.

I figured it might be worth double, keep you a little secret.

Why don't we call it an even 6K?

Given you proposed this little job was under the table, a cashier, as you

it, I'm sure it wasn't the first.

No doubt the Inland Revenue would be very interested in that.

He didn't pay you.

Left me no choice but to take matters into my own hands.

That's why you attended the party.

It was a masquerade ball. I could get in, get out, without anyone even

I was there.

So you could kill him?

For $3 ,800.

No.

But the guy had a lot of expensive artwork.

So you entered the parlour with the intention of stealing property?

Becky, it is lovely to see you.

It's you, Morgana. I've got some burning questions I'm hoping you can help with.

Of course. Let me see.

I see you're very in touch with the land.

You feel... I do.

I even have a greenhouse on.

That's delightful.

I see a winning on your horizon.

After Mr Baker died, I really thought that was only for me.

I figured if I took something of equal value, it would kind of negate the debt.

After that, I didn't see anyone.

Just some couple racing off towards the garden.

Then I went home.

What did they look like?

The guy was in a white military jacket, and the woman was in a turquoise dress.

What time was that?

It must have been close to midnight because I saw the fireworks go off as I

driving away.

You may want to check with Beaver, though.

He saw them too.

Badger.

That's the one. He pretty much crossed paths with them going in the other

direction. He was leaving the garden.

Thanks.

It's been an absolute pleasure.

And we're going to need that artifact back, by the way.

Take a seat.

I believe I speak for both of us.

We have nothing more to say without a lawyer.

If you're looking at myself and Artie for this, you're completely off track.

Noted. I just have one question.

Why did you both lie about your whereabouts at midnight?

What makes you think we lied?

We have a witness.

Who saw you entering the garden at approximately 11 .45pm.

Do you deny it?

I've seen enough innocent people get caught out just by being in the wrong

at the wrong time. I thought it best to distance ourselves from the crime scene.

He was protecting me.

We were in the garden at midnight.

But not...

to murder Maxwell.

It's hard sometimes, but we can barely keep our hands off each other.

Hattie and I are devastated that Maxwell lost his life.

But we had nothing to do with his death.

You said you're in the car park at midnight, but you failed to mention that

you're in the garden around 11 .45pm.

I knew it would look bad.

I was on the balcony calling off after my...

Fight with Max.

I saw Philip head inside and leave his smokes behind.

You went to the folly.

Did you see Maxwell?

No.

How long were you there?

Long enough to finish a cigarette.

I decided to head back to the motel.

New Year's sucks if you don't have anyone you actually want to spend it

Was anyone out at the folly?

No, I didn't see anyone.

Okay, got it. Thanks, Jonas.

Ms. Martin, a quick word?

It's a large suitcase for such a short stay.

I have a lot of clothes.

You're not really Mr.

Cornelius's cousin, are you?

After my mother died, I did find a connection to him in her paperwork, but

as a relative.

He appraised the family portraits, didn't he? The Silvertons.

Not long after my mother's death, I received a letter suggesting that I

have the paintings reappraised.

Who was the letter from?

It was anonymous.

Do you still have it?

I need to hold on to this for a while. Why?

A line of inquiry.

And that's when you discovered they were forgeries.

Maxwell Cornelius stole my family's heritage.

Hmm.

May I?

These would be the originals. Yes, so I didn't steal them. They're rightfully

mine.

We can talk more down at the station.

You removed the paintings the night before New Year's Eve.

I only needed a few minutes.

Mr Craddock, you scared me.

Lovely, aren't they?

They were painted in 1904.

Yes.

Well, I was just getting a glass of water, so I must get back to bed.

Those paintings are rightfully mine.

When was the last time you spoke to Mr Cornelius?

Must have been about 11 .15pm.

I'm very lucky to have those paintings, Maxwell.

I'm sure they're worth a fortune.

I've certainly made some lucrative deals in my time, Francis.

And you didn't see him again after that?

I mean, I saw him again, but I didn't speak to him. When was that?

Right after my palm reading, about 11 .30.

Was he with anyone?

Yes, he was talking to his friend.

The one that invited me to stay, Philip Craddock.

It's a natural life or death.

Thank you for coming in, Mrs Martin.

As soon as we can confirm that you are the rightful owner of the Silvertons,

they will be returned to you.

Mr. Craddock, thanks for coming in at such late notice.

Of course, my dear fellow. Anything to help.

Do you recognize this note?

I can't say I... Should I?

Your memory banks are not what they used to be.

You gave it to Mr Cornelius on the night of the party.

It's a natural light of my death.

Oh, yes, I did. I did. Yes, I wanted Max's help. There were Ruskies

that night.

Or you gave him the note to lure him into the garden.

My dear man, why would I do that?

Because that's where you plan to kill him.

Kill him?

Maxwell is my closest friend.

That may have been true once.

You've been planning this for a long time, haven't you, Mr Craddock?

And as it turns out, the rumours of Mr Cornelius being a spy were grounded in

truth. What a fantastical tale, dear, this shepherd.

Please go on, I'm enthralled.

There was a lot of intelligence activity in New Zealand in the 1970s, Russian

intelligence.

Well, we were in the middle of the Cold War.

There were spies everywhere, ramps under the beds and all that, you know. Yeah,

but Maxwell left the SAS in 1974 after an incident.

It was a young Russian woman who died, wasn't it?

She was found in an alleyway in Wellington a couple of months after a

Zealand intelligence agent was arrested for selling secrets to the KGB.

All she had on her was a fake passport and a pack of Russian

cigarettes.

As it happens, you smoke this brand.

It tastes like rubbish, but they were

her favourites.

You can't smoke in here, Mr Craddock.

His name was Tatiana.

Both Max and I were recruited into the SIS in 1972.

They wanted him to infiltrate the international art community.

But all they managed to teach him was how to master the art of forgery and how

to kill.

We were both there that night.

I had arranged to meet Tatiana.

Max got there first.

Initially, Tatiana was just my contact.

But she was smart as a whip and as funny as hell.

You fell for her.

Didn't mean to.

Lines got blurred.

Did Maxwell know?

He may have suspected, but after she died, he left the force and we never

of it again.

Tatiana was dead.

And you wanted revenge.

People say that revenge is a dish best served

cold.

Is 52 years cold enough?

Anyway, plenty of time to plan the least.

Why all the subterfuge, Philip?

What's going on?

I have to show you something, Max.

It's a matter of life or death.

All right, my friend.

But make it quick. I need to be back before midnight.

I can't miss my own party.

It's a beautiful knife.

It is.

It reminds me of Tatiana Krylov. The stars were bright that night, too. Do

remember, Max?

What is it you wanted to tell me?

We don't have much time. Well, time is like a book, Max. When we first start,

think we have so much left to read, and then one morning we wake up and we're on

the last chapter. I can see the end of the book now, Max, but I have one or two

things to tidy up before the epilogue.

We have a few chapters left, my friend.

What the hell was that?

I loved you like a brother once, Max.

But I loved Tatiana more.

That was a lifetime ago.

What have you done?

You shouldn't have killed her.

I had no choice. It was an order.

Oh, God.

He was your closest friend.

You get used to it.

I always liked using Karare.

It's very difficult to detect.

Yet you left the dark behind.

Oh, well, these are not working as well as they used to. It's a bit like the old

memory banks.

Neither are these.

And it was dark.

See you in hell.

And then by midnight, we were back on the balcony.

Oh, it reminds me of the Battle of the Storm. We're going over the top, boys!

Quite the crazy old man.

I've had many personas over the years.

I saved the best for last.

Where did you get the curare?

Oh, that information is above your pay grade, DSS Shepherd.

Fair enough.

You've got nothing to lose now.

This old spy still has one or two tricks up his sleeve.

Standard issue.

Part of the kit.

I kept it for a rainy day.

Because I always knew the road might end here, I made my peace with that a long

time ago.

Then why did you try and frame Francis Martin?

I received a letter suggesting that I should have the paintings reappraised.

Who was the letter from?

It was anonymous.

Your cousin, Francis Maxwell.

Oh, you absolutely must stay.

Old habits.

The writing in her letter matches the writing on Maxwell's note.

You win some, you lose some.

Philip Craddock, you will be charged with the murder of Maxwell Cornelius.

Of course.

Mr. Craddock, we will need your personal effects.

Of course, I know the drill.

I must say, Detective, it's been a pleasure working with you.

I think you're probably wasted in this rather small town.

Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Craddock.

Blue one.

My favorite.

After that, it's my round at the crock.

I'll find out eventually.

Huh? Who you spent New Year's with.

You will never, ever...

The blue ones.

No.

Tim.

Make their way across the night like soldiers.

Mr. Craddock. Warrior.

Open the light. Philip.

To those who sleep in darkness.

Welcome to Phoenix.

I guess he preferred to go out on his own terms.

Live by the sword, die by the sword.

Spies are a different breed.

Oh, God.

The usual?

Thanks, Trudy. Just a water for me, thanks.

Hello, Daniel.

It's lovely to see you outside of work hours.

Thanks. You're like dog on head.

Why don't you just ask him out?

Why are we here again?

A message from Gina. Something about toasting New Year's 48 hours after.

Some Russian tradition.

Oh, my God. Not again.

Don't go too hard, will you?

It's easy.

It's Northern Gordon.

To celebrate the new year, I have made a traditional Russian delicacy.

An adiette.

Delicious with crackers.

Gina, what do you have?

Vodka. And it, unlike Crestin, I can hold my liquor.

Wait. What?

Kristen hasn't told you? We spent New Year's Eve together.

But only one of us made it to midnight.

The other hardly made it past nine.

Na zdrowie.

Na zdrowie.

Again.

Pathetic.

Really? No one should be alone on New Year's Eve.

Very generous of you, Gina.

I dare either of you to keep up with her. She could drink an elephant under

table. You're too kind.

What is this? Yes.

Please help yourself.

Cheers, Daniel.

Has anyone ever told you you have lovely eyes?

So what exactly is... I thought you would never ask.

First, you have to boil a pig's head in a water.

to accept the fact for this earth.