All language subtitles for The.Brokenwood.Mysteries.S02E02.1080p.BluRay.x265-KONTRAST

To the heavens all bruit again,

respeaking earthly thunder.

Come away!

Oh, that this too,

too solid flesh would melt...

Thanks for coming to see Jared.

He's very good.

He is.

Although Shakespeare's

never been my thing.

Mm-hmm.

- Or that the everlasting...

I'm never quite sure

what's going on.

Shh.

Mike.

This is a good bit.

To a nunnery! Go!

Jared's always had a way

with the ladies.

Oh, yeah.

Being sent to a nunnery gets us

every time.

O heavenly powers, restore him!

Help! Angels!

Make assay!

...with strings of steel.

- Ha!

A hit!

A very palpable hit.

The drink!

The drink!

I am poisoned!

It is here Hamlet --

Hamlet, thou art slain.

And flights of angels sing thee

to thy rest.

I think that's what you call

milking it.

Perhaps he got a bad review.

Is there a doctor in the house?

Ben? Ben, what is it?

Get him his thing!

- Ruth!

- Okay.

An ambulance!

We need an ambulance, please!

Excuse me.

Oh, goodness.

Oh, Christ.

He's dead.

So much for breaking a leg,

fella.

Looks like you went

a little too far.

What do you know about this?

It isn't real.

It's a stage wound.

A blood balloon

containing fake blood.

See?

It's very realistic.

Yeah.

The props guy is really good.

Can someone please tell us

what has happened?

And you are?

Sorry.

Senior, this is Ralph.

Ralph.

Says here Ralph.

Ralph St. John.

St. John.

Ralph is the director

of the play.

He was such a lovely boy.

Ralph.

Darling man.

- Jarry.

- Ralph.

Mm.

Paula.

Paula Worthington.

D.S.S. Mike Shepherd.

Is there anything I can do

to help?

Uh, no. I think we've got

everything under control.

Thank you.

Benny.

I loved him like a son.

Sorry.

If you don't mind.

Apologies.

I'm all over the place.

A-Any idea how or...

- There'll be a postmortem.

- Of course.

Wasn't he a wonderful Hamlet?

Uh, yes.

He was.

If it's not too much trouble,

I wonder if I can be interviewed

as quickly as possible.

I need to get home to my twins,

Viola and Sebastian.

Your children are home alone?

They'll be wondering where I am.

It shouldn't be too much longer.

Breen, could you take

Mrs. Worthington's details?

- Ms.

- Ms. Worthington's.

Thank you.

Come with me.

What's going on up there?

One of the cast

got a bit hysterical.

Needed to be sedated.

Doctor says it has all the

hallmarks of an asthma attack.

Ben was known to be asthmatic.

Can you smell that?

What?

You can't smell anything?

No.

What?

Oh.

Is this where you tell me

it smells like bitter almonds?

- Mm.

- Damn.

- That is so unfair.

- It's no big deal.

Not everyone can detect

that smell.

- I know.

- It's a genetic thing.

It was my big fail

at Police College.

It was your only fail, I'm sure.

Yeah.

There is that.

Well, it's definitely there.

So...something is rotten

in the state of Brokenwood.

Were you awake

for any of the show?

Let's get him to the mortuary

and arrange a postmortem.

Probably more fun

than Shakespeare.

We are dealing with something

very unusual.

As well as pantaloons, tights,

and fake blood?

What's this?

Chaffing from the ruff he had

around his neck.

But it's different from this?

That's where it gets

interesting.

What was the performance?

- "Hamlet."

The Russian play.

Hamlet was from Russia?

No.

But he's very Russian.

He worries too much,

complains about everything,

takes too long

to make up his mind,

and when he finally does,

it all ends badly anyway.

- Such is life.

- Are we talking asthma?

Sudden respiratory failure --

yes.

But this pinkish discoloration

around the mouth

tells me it wasn't asthma.

With asthma, typically it is

very pale, even bluish.

Gina.

Do you smell bitter almonds?

No.

I smell musty old sneakers.

- Oh.

- Don't worry, Mike.

In Russia,

the quality of almonds

means they smell very similar

to sneakers.

Right.

Toxicology will confirm.

How do you think

it was administered?

That's the thing.

Here in this little blood bag,

there is a sharp device.

When the bag was crushed,

the device could have broken

the skin,

causing the real blood

to mix with the fake blood.

Are you saying the fake blood

contained the poison?

I think so.

Yes.

But there is no actual wound

on the deceased's arm.

So how did he receive

the lethal dose?

Well, that would depend

on what it was.

So, the type of poison was?

Why do you ask me this, Mike?

Because it's your job

to tell me.

But I can see you already know.

Mm.

One minute,

the guy's taking a bow.

Next he's lying on the ground,

flapping around

like a dying fish.

Shakespeare will do that to you.

Cyanide will do that to you.

- Cyanide?

- Potassium cyanide most likely.

K.C.N.

Tests will confirm.

Oh, wow.

Cool.

I mean, not cool for the guy,

obviously.

But cyanide.

That's pretty...unusual

is all I'm saying.

Do we know how?

No.

The, uh, blood bag was set to

break the skin, but it didn't.

Perhaps he inhaled the fumes.

But would that be enough

to kill him?

What do we know about this kid?

Ben Faulkner.

21 years old.

He was an orphan.

He lost his mother to cancer

at age 7

and his father to a car accident

10 years ago.

No siblings.

Ever since then,

the Brokenwood Theatre Society,

of which his parents

were members,

have acted like

a surrogate family,

most notably Paula Worthington.

He spent a lot of time with her.

And presumably her kids.

She has kids?

I don't remember that

from her details.

She was very keen

to get back to them last night.

Twins.

Viola and Sebastian.

Right.

"Twelfth Night."

What?

Viola and Sebastian were

the twins in "Twelfth Night."

Another Shakespeare play.

Never mind.

Uh, up until several weeks ago,

Ben was dating Juliet Phelps,

who played Ophelia.

The one who goes crazy?

Oh, you were awake

for some of it.

Do we have

her witness statement?

No. She's at hospital.

Heavily sedated.

She's had something

of a breakdown.

That's called irony.

Or convenient.

Jilted lover takes revenge then

removes herself from suspicion

by hiding behind

an emotional collapse.

I like it.

I suggest we start

with Ruth Phelps,

her mother and also

the stage manager for the show.

Breen, head to the hospital.

I'm returning to the scene.

Kristin, we need to know

all the cyanide suppliers

and license holders.

Um, could I take the cyanide?

What?

I mean if it made no difference,

could I follow up

on the cyanide?

Let's get Ruth Phelps talking

while her daughter's indisposed.

Yeah, see, Mrs. Phelps

was my English teacher

at Riverstone High School.

So?

It's just Shakespeare was

her specialty,

and it definitely wasn't mine.

She was intense about it.

And I'm pretty sure I never

handed in my last assignment,

which was, ironically,

on "Hamlet."

She may still be expecting it.

You'd rather work with cyanide?

It's nowhere near as lethal

as Mrs. Phelps.

I never picked you

as a Shakespeare type.

Oh, me neither.

I always really liked the words,

you know?

A bit like hip-hop

without the fat beats.

But one day I was just grabbing

a coffee.

Ralph St. John.

Have you ever done

any Shakespeare?

So "to be

or not to be Hamlet?" --

That became the question.

You were "discovered,"

as they say.

Yeah, I guess.

These are all the props?

Yep.

The blood bag --

How did that work?

Ah!

Say you're Laertes.

Okay.

Thrust at me.

Hm.

Ee! Ooh.

I grab my arm...

...the little balloon breaks,

blood comes out,

and I hold it out

to the audience.

Very good. For a moment,

I thought I'd hit you there.

Ah.

The magic of theater.

- And the blood bag sits here?

- Yeah.

We put them on

at the beginning of Act 5.

And there's a space for yours

and one for Ben's.

Mm-hmm.

Who has access to this area

during the show?

Everybody moves around

back here,

exiting, entering,

grabbing props.

Did you and Ben ever mix up

your blood bags?

It wouldn't matter if we did.

Why?

You said the props guy

is really good.

- Is that Ralph?

- No. Gray Jenkins.

He runs the Brokenwood

hire-costume place.

I didn't realize the

Elizabethans were so advanced.

Ben always gets a bit wheezy.

Mostly after Act 5.

Used to take a puff

before the curtain call.

I heard people

crying -- like actually crying!

I think we knocked them dead,

bro.

Yeah, I know. Felt pretty good.

We killed it!

Tally ho!

Is that what happened, then?

What's that?

An asthma attack.

My guess is there's more to it

than that.

I'm a suspect, aren't I?

Let's just say you're, uh,

helping us with our inquiries.

I had a cousin

that did that once.

Problem was he was so good

at helping with the inquiries,

he ended up in jail.

Was he guilty?

Well, technically, yeah.

- Hmm.

- Mm.

We're in a process

that needs to be gone through.

- That's all.

- So I'm free to go?

My vines won't prune themselves.

Although it might be wise

not to associate

with the other cast members

until all the other

witness statements in order.

Yeah.

Juliet, this is Detective Sims.

She has a couple of questions

for you.

Okay.

Hello, Juliet.

Last night, did you notice

anything odd about Ben backstage

during the play?

Ben. Yes.

I remember him.

Well, I know that you knew him.

I'm sorry for your loss.

I understand

he was your boyfriend --

We must be patient,

but I cannot choose but weep

to think they lay him

i' th' cold ground.

Damn medication -- It's either

too much or not enough.

Those doctors,

they don't know their backsides

from their bellybuttons.

Could we have some help in here,

please?

Where is the beauteous majesty

of Denmark?

Ophelia's lines.

How now, Ophelia.

♪ How am I your true love know ♪

- ♪ From another one? ♪

- ♪ From another one? ♪

♪ By his cockle hat and staff ♪

♪ And his sandal shoon ♪

Alas, sweet lady,

what imports this song?

You know,

I might come back later.

Yes. I think that would be

a good idea.

I-I think she may be slipping

into a coma.

No. No.

I want an actual doctor.

An actual doctor.

If you don't mind, Detective.

Of course.

Ophelia?

I will send it

to the E.S.R. for more tests.

But the cannister --

It's factory-sealed.

I can't see any way the poison

could be contained.

You could take a puff

with no fear.

I'll pass.

Chicken?

What?

No.

If you were a Russian man,

you might do it

to prove your manliness.

But I'm not asthmatic.

That's why I respect you, Mike.

Because I'm not asthmatic?

Because you know manliness

doesn't come with wrestling

chickens.

Detective Sims.

Back again so soon.

I have a couple of questions

for you if that's okay.

Well, we're not

out of the woods yet.

They've told me I have to wait

here in the corridor.

Why?

So that I wouldn't bear witness

to their incompetence.

I'm her mother, for God's sake.

Well, perhaps then you could

spare me a couple of minutes.

The diagnosis was that Juliet

was overcome with hysteria

at Ben's sudden death.

- You don't agree?

- She's a sensitive girl.

She's suffering from

a much deeper ailment.

A broken heart?

Very good.

Perhaps you should become

a doctor.

I'm sure you'd be better

than those apes.

Breaking a young woman's heart

is not something

to be underestimated.

The damage can be very serious

indeed.

But then I did insist

on calling her Juliet.

The star-crossed lover.

So Ben was her Romeo?

Insomuch as he ended up dead.

At least there's one

of your team

who knows a thing or two

about Shakespeare.

Unlike Samuel Breen.

I saw him last night

pretending to be a detective.

He avoided me, of course.

I can assure you

he's very good at his job.

Oh, really?

Well, perhaps he'd like to solve

the mystery of the missing

Year 12 assignment.

It remains outstanding.

Uh, do you have any idea

why Ben would want to

break things off with Juliet?

He was young, foolish,

insensitive, and confused.

By?

Perhaps you should ask

Paula Worthington about that.

She fussed over him

like the mother she never was.

She doesn't have

her own children?

God, no.

Which is just as well.

Who knows what kind of mother

she would make?

Her, um...

Her intentions towards Ben

were far more than maternal.

What exactly are you suggesting?

I'm sure you can draw

your own conclusions, Detective.

Kristin.

Hey, according to Ruth Phelps,

Paula Worthington doesn't have

any children.

Okay.

Thanks.

Good morrow, Michael!

Morning!

Viola and Sebastian, I presume.

My twins.

Viola...and Sebastian.

From "Twelfth Night."

Well done!

You like your Shakespeare,

Michael?

It's, uh, limited.

More a country music fan.

But from what I can work out,

um, all the same themes

as Shakespeare

but done in three minutes

rather than three hours.

No offense.

I, uh, thought they were

your children.

In many ways, they are.

Not identical twins, then?

But born on the same day.

They didn't suffer too much

with your late arrival home?

You might not think so,

but they're carrying

a very sad disposition.

They sense that Benny is dead.

He was very close to them.

Is there any confirmation

on what caused Ben's death?

Not yet.

There's a rumor it was asthma.

It would seem like

the most likely scenario.

Oh, my poor Benny.

I suppose the rest of the season

will be canceled.

With an actor dead

and another one in the hospital,

I would presume so.

What a shame.

But appropriate, I would think.

Well, yes and no.

The -- The proceeds were to go

to a charity, you see --

Awesome Orphanz.

I see.

It gives grants to orphans

who show exceptional promise

in a certain area, like Ben.

Yeah.

Well, perhaps when this is over.

- Excuse me.

G'day, mate.

Um, D.S.S. Mike Shepherd.

Hey, have you collected

all the rubbish around here?

Right.

What have we got?

Well, Ruth Phelps

doesn't suffer fools.

Paula Worthington --

Mm.

Just bumped into her.

For someone who treasured Ben

like a mother,

she's very, um, businesslike.

A mother -- or maybe more.

What?

According to Ruth Phelps,

Paula Worthington possibly had

more than a maternal interest

in Ben.

Okay.

Uh, Juliet Phelps is still

flaking out on sedatives.

Ralph St. John...

Ralph St. John

is coming in tomorrow

to complete

his witness statement.

Hard to pin down.

Nigel Medlock, Timothy Ward,

and Billy Franks

have all completed statements,

as has Neil Bloom.

I remember him

from the golf club case.

The chemist.

Pharmacist.

Mm.

Okay.

Cyanide.

Aren't we missing someone?

Who?

Jared Morehu.

Shouldn't he be up there?

Just saying.

Put his name up.

I checked out local controlled-

substance license holders.

No one reports anything

out of the ordinary.

No break-ins,

and, to be fair,

they were all so uninterested in

the idea of a Shakespeare play,

it was hard to sniff out

any connection

or possible motive

from their end.

No cyanide thefts

in the entire district?

Nope.

Although I'm yet to head up

and see Smelly Nelly Jenkins.

Ugh.

Good luck with that.

Smelly Nelly...

Jenkins.

Old-school possum trapper.

Lives in the foothills

of the Riverstone ranges.

Completely feral.

Always trying to tempt you with

a possum pie

while flogging off possum skins

and other by-products

as the panacea to the ills

of modern-day life.

Is she related to Gray Jenkins?

Mm.

Don't know.

Pass.

Jared mentioned him

as the props maker.

Another person of interest.

So, why didn't you get up

to this Nelly Jenkins?

Squad car is in the shop.

What?

Six month service.

And all the I cars are out.

Did you mention

you're investigating a murder?

Can't fight the system, Senior.

Then take mine.

Your car?

What's wrong with it?

Oh, nothing.

It's just...it's your car.

Yeah.

- Don't disrespect it.

- No, Boss.

Right.

So, apart from not having a who

or a why

or even a how,

which gives us no when...

we're doing really well.

Why, when, how, who.

Why, when, how, who.

Don't mess up with the car.

I'll chase up Neil Bloom.

Mm-hmm.

Hello?

- Hello?

Anybody around?

Hello?

D.S.S. Mike Shepherd.

- Hello?

Aah!

Kristin Sims.

She can talk now,

but keep it brief.

I'm so sorry.

I was fixing a hinge

on the breastplate

and trying it on,

and it got stuck.

Uh, yeah.

No harm done.

Gray Jenkins, is it?

No.

I'm Billy, his assistant.

Is Gray about?

No.

Uh, he didn't come in today.

He's very upset

over Ben's death.

Uh, do you mind?

Oh.

Oh, y-you were in the play.

Um, Oswald?

Osric.

And Marcellus and Rosencrantz

in the battlements scene.

A small but very important part.

Right.

Although, as Ralph says,

there are no small parts,

only small actors.

But you were okay?

Okay?

Well, thanks, I guess.

Oh, no. I mean you're okay

to come in to work.

Oh. It's just we're --

we're so busy.

I mean,

"Flintstones: The Musical" opens

in Riverstone next week,

and we still have to finish

all the fur detailing.

And then, after "Hamlet,"

there's "Spamalot,"

hence I was fixing

the suit of armor when --

So stupid.

I-I'm sorry.

Any idea why Ben and Juliet

broke up?

No.

He just dumped her,

and that was that.

- And...

- And?

And she deserved to be treated

better than that.

I'm sure.

Do you have, uh,

Gray Jenkins' address?

Yeah.

What have you got?

Test results confirm

what I knew.

The fake blood contained

cyanide.

Okay.

Thanks.

The, uh, fake blood --

Do you sell much of it?

Halloween. Kids' birthdays.

Gray makes it himself.

It's very good.

Appreciate it.

Sweetheart,

you remember Detective Sims?

Yes.

She just wants to ask you

a few more questions about Ben.

Uh, actually,

would you mind if...

Oh.

Um, I'll be just over there,

darling,

if you need anything

or you feel upset.

Okay.

She'll be fine.

You don't know that.

Uh, right.

Um, what I'm trying to get

a handle on

is why you and Ben split up.

Was it amicable?

When is getting dumped

out of the blue

on a cold winter's night

ever amicable?

Now?

What about the show?

As Polonius says,

"To thine own self be true."

Screw Polonius, Ben!

This is real!

It hurt.

Really bad.

I'm sure.

But not so much

that I would do anything bad.

You're not thinking that?

Just trying to put a picture

together.

Does your picture include Ben

being hit on by Gray Jenkins?

In what way?

Gray was always teasing Ben

about his sexuality.

Testing.

Flirting.

And was Ben...

Ben wasn't interested.

He was interested in me.

And then...he wasn't.

But it doesn't matter now.

I have someone new.

You have a new boyfriend?

Let's just say

if Ben were alive,

he'd be feeling pretty jealous.

Are those flowers from him?

They're from my Hamlet.

I'm feeling very tired now.

Okay.

Thanks.

Uh, Ruth, the roses --

Are they from Jared Morehu?

Apparently.

I wasn't here at the time.

- Right.

- Mutterings.

I don't believe for a second

they're from a new boyfriend

if that's what she was saying.

Well, she does seem smitten.

Merely the effects

of the medication.

- Either too much or too little.

Ruthie.

Hi.

How's our girl?

Oh, she's mending.

You know Detective Sims.

Yes.

Any news about things?

We're working on it.

Asthma is a dreadful business.

It would help if we had all the

completed witness statements.

Yes. I apologize.

It's been a ghastly day.

I'll pop in tomorrow.

Please.

How fares my Juliet?

That I ask again.

For nothing can be ill

if she be well.

Daddy.

Another bouquet?

Popular girl.

They're from your cast

of "Hamlet."

- They want their Ophelia back.

- Daddy?

Didn't you know, Detective?

A union over the Bard

led to a permanent connection,

but we choose to maintain

separate lives.

Who are you?

D.C. Sam Breen,

Brokenwood C.I.B.

Not a cop car.

Actually, it is.

Belongs to my senior.

Watch you don't trip.

What do you want?

A routine check

on your cyanide supplies.

I've got a license.

I know.

And with that license comes

security requirements

that are subject

to random checks.

Well, get in here, then.

I keep it all in there.

Locked.

Okay. Good.

Can you unlock it?

Wait.

Are you serious?

Well, I don't want to lose it.

There you go.

I'm guessing you don't keep

an updated register.

Oh, I know what's what.

See?

Still good.

Plenty in that one.

Mm.

That one's expired.

Uh, no, thanks.

That's cyanide.

Relax.

It won't kill you --

unless you're an idiot.

- Are you an idiot?

- No.

Then chuck it in the bin.

You can't just chuck this stuff

in the bin.

It's cyanide.

And you can't have the key out

in plain sight.

Well, hardly no one comes

up here, so it's not a problem.

How old are you?

25.

Yeah.

A lot of lines around your eyes

for 25.

- What?

- Stress?

No.

You should try some of this.

Smear it under your eyes.

Makes the lines disappear.

- What is it?

- Possum fat.

I use it all the time.

I'm good.

Thanks.

Your loss.

Do you know a Ben Faulkner?

No.

21. Used to perform with

the Brokenwood Theatre Society.

Used to?

Crap, was he?

Dead, actually.

Cyanide poisoning.

Oh, I don't go to the theater.

Are you related to Gray Jenkins?

- Is that what this is about?

- What?

Has Gray been up to no good

with that young Ben boy?

Meaning?

Gay.

That's Gray's preference now.

Right.

But you're not related?

Oh, I didn't say that.

So you are related?

- No.

- What, then?

Oh, don't get shirty with me,

boy.

We're only related

insomuch as he was once

my husband a long time ago.

But that's all.

I've got nothing to say to him.

That it?

Are you done?

No reception?

Who cares?

I wouldn't touch one of

those things with a barge pole.

That'll give you cancer sure as

a bull will hump a heifer.

Right.

Thanks for your time.

Hey, you sure

you don't want some?

I'm good.

Flat battery?

I don't believe it.

Might have to stay the night.

Hey.

Have you heard from Breen?

Uh, negative.

Where are you?

Uh, tracking down Gray Jenkins.

Are you all right?

Yeah. Yep.

All good.

Hey, uh, could you pick me up

in a bit?

Uh, 56 Middleton Road.

Are you on foot?

Yeah. Doing my bit

to, uh, save the planet.

I'll be there.

Neil Bloom, isn't it?

Detective Shepherd.

I was looking for Gray Jenkins.

You're in the right place.

Right.

So...

He's sleeping.

He barely got a wink last night.

The news about Ben

destroyed him.

I see.

Gray is my partner.

You don't live

so far out of town anymore?

Well, separate dwellings, but I,

uh, stayed over last night.

Consoling Gray.

He can call you when he wakes.

Thanks.

Do you need a glass of water?

Yeah. I'd appreciate that.

Yeah.

Just, uh, wait here.

Ta.

You were very good in the play,

by the way.

- Oh.

- Great beard.

I like the line about how you've

got to be honest with yourself.

"To thine own self be true."

Mm.

That's the one.

Yes. It's a nice part.

Probably my favorite line.

Being a gay man in a small place

like Brokenwood,

it has an extra resonance.

Maybe Ralph hasn't been.

Ralph.

St. John?

The postie.

Amateur theater doesn't pay

the bills, Detective.

I was to be Claudius, actually.

I'd even learned the lines,

but, uh, it was not to be.

Why is that?

There was a last-minute

reshuffle.

Because?

Ralph was to play Hamlet,

but he was, of course, too old.

The society voted for Ben,

but in the end,

he wasn't up for the task.

He seemed a good actor to me.

Ben was a nice kid,

but not as talented

as some might have thought.

So Ralph found Jared, by chance,

and the rest was

a happy accident, as they say.

I'm not sure Ben would see it

that way.

- Ah. My ride.

Thanks for that.

Actually, uh, one other thing.

As a chemist,

do you stock cyanide?

Detective, as a pharmacist,

I dispense drugs to heal people,

not kill them.

I'll take that as a "no."

You do that.

So that was the detective?

Mike Shepherd is very thorough.

We need to be very careful.

Ralph St. John

is Juliet's father.

Oh.

- Does that change anything?

- I don't know yet.

But Ruth Phelps has got

serious attitude

about life, love, and doctors.

And Juliet, who, after being

dumped by her boyfriend,

then seeing him die

in front of her eyes

all in the space of two weeks,

thinks she has a new boyfriend.

Who?

Jared Morehu.

Mike Shepherd.

I'd appreciate that.

See you soon.

Gray Jenkins is suddenly up

and about.

Wants to meet

at the Costume Company.

Can you double back?

You could drive yourself.

Or not.

Well?

It's not as bad as it looks,

okay?

It just needs a new alternator.

I had to walk for an age

to call for a tow truck.

I meant, well,

what did you find out?

Oh.

Um, Nelly Jenkins has a lot

of cyanide under lock and key --

in the loosest sense

of the term --

and she used to be married

to Gray Jenkins.

How long ago?

20 years.

He came out. It was all over.

That alternator was original,

by the way.

Probably why it needs replacing.

What's that under your eyes?

I...I don't want to talk

about it.

- I'm taking a shower.

- Uh, no point.

Why not?

No.

There's work to be done.

And showering might be

pointless.

What you're looking for

is small, silver, plastic.

And if you find it,

handle with extreme care.

This is about the car, isn't it?

No. It's about, uh,

finding the murder weapon.

Working late, Mr. Jenkins?

Just making up for lost time,

Inspector.

Rough night, I hear.

We all lost a dear friend.

Makes you wonder what the point

of it all is sometimes,

doesn't it?

Doesn't Hamlet say something

like that?

Over and over and over.

Ben was a talented boy.

It was such a waste.

Was your relationship

anything more than professional?

Can we deal with

a couple of facts?

Facts are what I'm here for.

Firstly, the Brokenwood

Theatre Society is amateur,

not professional,

a mistake Ralph often makes.

There's a big difference.

And secondly, Ben was straight.

I had a lot of time for him,

but that was all.

You make the props for the play,

I understand.

And costumes.

It's my contribution

to the society.

But you were an actor?

I'm more comfortable

behind the scenes now.

Could you show me how

these blood-bag devices work?

Oh.

An elastic bandage.

Drawing pin.

Small water balloon

filled with fake blood.

That you make yourself?

Yes.

And that is covered with an

adhesive, paper-based plaster.

That you get from a chemist?

Pharmacies stock them.

Yes.

And that is strapped 'round...

under the costume.

And the actor clasps it,

like so.

You have blood on your hands.

Fake blood.

Cochineal, maple syrup,

coffee, water.

Nothing else?

No.

So not rocket science, then?

Anybody could do it.

Well, anyone with access

to all these bits and pieces.

Well, they're all

commonly available.

In amateur theater, we have to

make a little go a long way.

Do you have any access

to cyanide?

What?

Cyanide.

Do you have any use for it?

That's a strange question.

Not if you're someone

who uses cyanide.

Is that...what took Ben?

Not necessarily.

How hideous.

As I said, not necessarily.

But you have no access to it?

No.

Never.

Detective, I had nothing to do

with Ben's death.

I wasn't even

at the performance.

- But you set up the props table.

- Well, yes.

I do that each night --

the blood capsules,

the blood sleeves, parchments,

et cetera.

But then I leave.

Ruth Phelps

is the stage manager.

She looks after everything.

Not a Shakespeare fan?

I love Shakespeare.

I hate "Hamlet."

Now, if you have

no further questions,

I really must finish

the Flintstones.

♪ When you won me over ♪

♪ You took my heart... ♪

I have Ralph St. John in

for his witness statement.

Ah.

Good.

- Not good?

Did you see anyone

that didn't belong there?

No.

Mind you, it's frightfully busy

back there.

But, uh, if there was anyone,

Ruth would have shooed them

away.

Right. You --

You and Ruth were married?

No, we share

a beautiful friendship

through a wonderful daughter.

Juliet --

who's a very good actress.

Very.

I thought Jared Morehu

was very good, too.

For the record.

Yes.

In a raw, primal way.

He has that quality of a savage

glistening in the sun,

bathed in sweat, speaking

the language of the gods.

While wearing a doublet

and hose.

You may pooh-pooh, Detective,

but by honoring

Shakespeare's period,

we are feeling the language

through the filter

of the clothing.

Hessian, silk, pantaloons --

authenticity.

I thank the stars I am happy.

I will be strange, stout,

in yellow stockings,

and cross-gartered.

Ah.

Malvolio.

You know the Bard?

I studied him in university.

Yes, yes.

Study, study.

But have you ever let him

actually flow through you,

stood on a stage and allowed

yourself to be a vessel?

You mean have I ever been

in a Shakespeare play?

- Yes.

- No.

Perhaps you should try it.

I offer classes, you know,

in acting and vocal technique.

I can see you as a marvelous

Lavinia in "Titus Andronicus."

That's a kind offer.

Would you excuse us?

Would you think any less of me

if I vomited on your shoes?

I can get a bucket.

That man is the kind that gives

Shakespeare such a bad name.

I couldn't possibly comment.

For the record, Lavinia

gets her hands chopped off

and her tongue cut out.

Shakespeare, eh?

Yeah. Bet you don't get that

with Patsy Cline.

Sorry.

If we're done, Detective,

could I have a private word?

Sure.

Please, take a seat.

Uh, no.

I won't keep you long.

This is a most awkward thing

to ask.

I'm in a pickle, you see.

Paula Worthington has asked me

whether it's possible

to continue the season.

- Of "Hamlet"?

- Yes, yes.

I said, "Paula, darling, no.

No. We can't.

An actor has passed away.

It's insensitive."

I would have thought so.

But it's for her charity,

you see.

Awesome Orphanz is her charity?

Yes, yes.

And Paula thinks

it would be the perfect way

to honor Ben's memory.

What do you think?

Oh, how could we go on?

Imagine performing

that monumental play each night

knowing that one us isn't there

anymore.

Then say no.

Paula's a very forceful type.

I was wondering

if perhaps there was a legal

reason we couldn't continue.

Well, the stage and backstage

area are a crime scene.

Until our investigation

is complete,

you wouldn't be able to use it.

Brilliant.

I shall tell her forthwith.

Mm.

That comes as something

of a relief.

He worked with Sir Ian McKellen,

you know.

Right.

You don't know who he is,

do you?

Sir Ian...

McKellen.

We worked together on "Rings."

Fabulous actor.

He played Gandalf

in "The Lord of the Rings."

"The Hobbit."

Of course.

You never saw

"The Lord of the Rings"?

I've got this thing

about hairy feet.

Is this where

you tell me a story

about one of your ex-wives?

Sorry.

I didn't mean...

I don't believe any of them had

hairy feet.

Well, good. I mean,

not that it would matter.

- Well, it would to me.

- Obviously.

Hm. Do you want to change

the subject?

- Uh, yes, please.

- Yeah.

Paula Worthington wants the show

to go on.

- What's that about?

- In the name of charity.

You've, uh,

crossed out this guy.

Timothy is the most sensitive

forklift driver I've ever met.

Poor Ben.

I'm just so --

I'm so...

I'm just so...

So sad.

I doubt he has the emotional

constitution for murder.

I did learn something

interesting, though,

when I asked our witnesses why

Ruth Phelps wasn't in the play.

She's kind of bad.

Ruth's a really good

stage manager, for sure.

Actually, her acting

is a bit like fingernails

on a blackboard.

She's not very good.

Ruth is an academic.

She acts with her head

rather than her -- her loins.

Plus, she has

some strange ideas.

And all those in favor

of Ruth's idea

that Hamlet should be played

as a woman -- by her --

raise your hand.

Oh, Ruthie.

Not this year.

Again.

Hamlet as a woman?

Mm.

Very avant-garde.

The point is Ruth Phelps had

a serious ax to grind

with the rest of the Brokenwood

theater folk.

For being snubbed?

Possible.

But why pick on Ben?

Why not Paula?

The only thing she loves

more than Shakespeare

is her daughter.

Ben hurt her daughter.

Motive?

But until we know how

the cyanide was administered,

it's difficult to know

who had the opportunity.

Why, when, how, who, what.

Senior.

Yes.

Back on the road.

- Joyride?

- Oh, it's always joyous.

To be or not to be.

That is the question.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind

to suffer the slings and arrows

of outrageous fortune

or to take arms

against a sea of troubles

and by opposing end them?

To die, to sleep...

Oh, Billy,

there is so much to do!

But it's my lunch hour.

As long as an hour is an hour.

Billy.

I...I was just leaving.

He thinks he's in love.

Is that a bad thing?

Oh, to be young again.

- Swings and roundabouts.

- Mm.

Billy's an asthmatic?

Isn't half the population

these days?

Something's bothering me.

Maybe you could help me out.

As long as you don't mind me

keeping on working.

Not at all.

Your aversion to "Hamlet" --

What's that about?

How is that important?

Humor me.

I played Hamlet myself

back in the '70s,

when I was a professional actor.

It was quite a famous

production.

Good for you.

Not really.

I played the whole thing

with a paper bag on my head.

Okay.

It was the '70s.

That sort of thing was very

de rigueur.

Some said it was cutting-edge.

Some said it was

incredibly moving.

Most just said it was really

hard to hear what I was saying.

Probably quite hard to see

as well.

The director was trying to

put across the metaphor

that Hamlet was blinded

by his indecision.

Stumbling about

just added to that effect.

After that,

I was done with the damn play.

At least Ralph St. John doesn't

have any crazy ideas like that.

He doesn't have many ideas

at all.

He has worked with Ian McKellen,

though.

Oh, please.

He was a dead Orc.

Third corpse from the left

in the Battle of Helm's Deep.

Ralph tends to exaggerate

his résumé and talent.

Why didn't you mention your

connection to Nelly Jenkins?

When I asked about cyanide.

She's licensed to obtain

and possess cyanide.

There's no connection.

Apart from you being

her ex-husband.

I have nothing

to do with that woman.

She's a bigot.

A tedious, odious,

not to mention odorous woman.

She's also a supplier

of possum skins,

which, if I'm not very much

mistaken, are what these are.

I haven't seen her for years.

So these furs are not from her,

then?

Anything I have to do with my

mad ex-wife is purely business.

So they are from her.

Have you been up to her place

recently?

No, I have not.

Has she paid you a visit?

I have already said --

I haven't seen her for years.

Okay.

That's all.

Thanks.

We need to talk.

- Now.

Excuse me.

Ruth.

Hi.

I'll take those.

She's just in there.

Don't stay too long.

She tires easily.

Go on.

Off you go.

Just in there.

How are you feeling?

Hello, Billy.

I brought some flowers.

Uh, your mum's just getting

a vase.

- I see you already have some.

- Aren't they amazing?

Hey, are you okay to talk?

I mean, I don't want to impose.

No. It's fine.

It's really good to see you.

Uh, your dad called.

Um, there's talk

that the play's going to resume.

Isn't that great?

- So soon?

- Yeah.

I'll finally get my chance

to play Laertes.

Good for you.

Do you think

that you'll be up to it?

- I'm not sure.

- 'Cause, like, I-I was thinking

that you could focus your

confused feelings in the part.

- Billy.

- I mean, we can run lines.

- Billy, slow down.

- Yeah.

Sorry.

It's just...Laertes.

I mean, wow.

Are you going tomorrow?

Yeah.

Of course.

And Jared?

I guess so.

I mean, everybody will be.

Why?

I think that's enough.

Thanks for the flowers.

Yeah.

- I should go.

- Bye-bye.

I'll see you tomorrow.

- Sure.

- Bye.

Hallelujah.

We'll get this over to Gina.

So, what have I missed?

Not much.

If that's the smoking gun,

at least we can focus on

opportunity.

But...motive?

"Hamlet."

What happens?

Well, a prince suspects

his uncle of killing his father.

He can't decide what to do.

Everyone dies.

Perhaps you should write that

down and give it to Mrs. Phelps.

Then you'd be investigating

two murders.

Well, not if you said

Hamlet was a woman.

What?

Really?

Hamlet as a woman?

- Breen?

- Yeah?

- Shower?

- Right.

Hamlet as a woman.

So...

I look at all these people

and what do they have in common?

A love of theater?

Specifically,

a love of "Hamlet."

What if the answer

is in the play?

Good luck with that.

Academics have argued

over centuries

over its deeper meaning.

But for me, one thing is clear.

Hamlet had major mother issues.

Which is why he treats Ophelia

so badly

and says some ambiguous things

about what he'd like to do

to Gertrude.

Hamlet is both a mother lover

and a mother hater.

What has this got to do

with Ben?

No.

I'm thinking about the mother.

Paula?

I just spoke to her again.

I loved Ben,

but he was no saint.

Meaning?

As if it wasn't bad enough

breaking Juliet's heart,

he then had the gall to up

and die onstage in front of her.

Not that it was deliberate.

He was a troubled boy.

I wouldn't put it past him

to stage something grand

and ridiculous.

Are you saying

he could have been suicidal?

I'm saying he was troubled.

In what way?

Ben was a boy gifted

with too much attention.

When he lost his parents,

many in the Theatre Society

took it upon themselves

to tend to his every need,

Ruth Phelps in particular.

Tried to make him into

a Shakespeare prodigy.

He was smothered,

if you know what I mean.

Well, no, I'm not exactly sure.

Oh, Ms. Sims.

Take the "S" off "smothered"

and what do you get?

The real mother in the fray,

Ruth Phelps.

The only one

in this whole scenario

with an ounce of motive.

Ben hurt her daughter.

She wanted him to suffer.

Well, then the same would apply

to Ralph.

Juliet's his daughter, too.

Yeah, but does he

really care about Juliet

as much as his play?

He is so self-absorbed.

I think not.

What if Ruth

didn't mean to kill Ben

but was just trying to send

a message?

Cyanide?

That's some message.

Let's see if we've got

the smoking gun first.

How's it?

Ah.

Tough day at the office, eh?

Hey, um, have you been following

my advice?

Yeah.

Always.

What advice, exactly?

About not associating

with the other cast members.

Oh, yeah.

I've just been here.

You sure?

Did these vines prune

themselves?

Did you like Ben Faulkner?

Uh, yeah.

He was okay.

What do you think about Juliet?

She a bit young for you, Mike.

What?

I'm not talking about --

What about Ruth Phelps?

Oh, I definitely wouldn't

go there if I was you.

I'm not talking about going

there with any of these people.

You know how

the female praying mantis

bites the head off the male

praying mantis

after they've mated?

Well, that's Ruth.

Just ruthless.

Thanks for the insight.

I'll have these players

play something like the murder

of my father before mine uncle.

I'll observe his looks.

I'll tent him to the quick.

And if he do blench,

I'll know my course.

Uh, Senior?

Ah.

Um, we were hoping for a word.

We, uh, we have something

of a confession to make.

Well...Gray does.

I'm moral support.

All right.

We realize

we need to front-foot this

before any rumors

and false allegations arise.

I'm all ears.

We talked about this.

Honesty is the best policy.

I...admit to having been

somewhat infatuated with Ben.

It was a foolish thing.

Destined never to go anywhere

because?

Ben was not gay.

Or interested.

Gray made a couple

of clumsy overtures

after a few too many wines.

How about this one?

Oh, marvelous.

Gray, I need a bigger rapier.

Talented and beautiful.

What's your secret?

I think we're done here.

You old fool.

Gray!

I need a longer rapier!

For Christ's sake.

Find it yourself.

It wasn't a secret?

It was a clumsy secret.

As embarrassing as it is, I...

...we felt it was important

to come clean.

Was it just the once?

There were several

public displays.

Granted, I humiliated myself,

but --

But he was not driven

to any kind of homicidal rage,

in case anyone should cast

such aspersions.

Now, um...

we have a funeral to attend.

Thank you for your candor.

It's been a very, uh,

emotional time.

I'm sure.

Tell me, Neil -- By any chance,

did you fill Ben's prescription

for his Vaporase inhaler?

Uh, as a matter of fact, I did.

Why?

Is it a common brand?

Well, the most common

these days.

Billy Franks uses one, too.

Yes.

Mm.

Anyone else in the cast?

Not that I'm aware of.

Okay.

Uh, thank you.

Uh, Neil, uh, one more thing.

When did last fill

Ben's prescription?

Oh, uh, three...

No.

Four weeks ago.

I remember he, uh,

he'd lost his.

"To be or not to be," Ben!

Please!

Sorry.

I just -- I-I need my inhaler.

Where is my inhaler?

Here.

Use mine.

Ah!

That's a sure way to spread

illness amongst the cast.

That was the beginning

of the end for Ben as Hamlet.

Hamlet can't be an asthmatic.

Ben is -- is lovely.

He -- He's trying.

To be or not to be.

Really? It's amateur.

We are amateurs, Ralph.

Only insomuch

as we don't get paid.

But that is no reason

to set anything other

than professional standards.

I suppose I may have to do it.

A hundred years ago.

Hamlet is a young prince,

for heaven's sake.

Quite.

Well, best you find someone

ASAP.

I can but try.

Is that's how Jared

came to be involved?

Mm.

A happy accident, as they say.

How all occasions do inform

against me

and spur my dull revenge.

Oh, my goodness, Ralph.

What a find.

How did you feel

about Gray's attitude to Ben?

The course of true love

never did run smooth.

♪ Only tears ♪

♪ Is that all I can do? ♪

And as we say farewell to Ben,

we remember his vitality...

...his love of life,

and that,

though taken far too young,

he was loved

by those around him.

♪ No need for such a show ♪

And so earth to earth,

ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Now pile your dust

upon the quick and dead

till of this flat

a mountain you have made,

to o'ertop old pylon...

Pelion.

...Pelion and the skyish head

of blue Olympus.

Marvelous.

You all right, mate?

Come on.

Come on.

Jarry?

Oh, no.

She's all right.

I'm sorry.

This feeling just came over me.

Not at all.

It was very apt.

Well done, Billy.

You are a star

just waiting to shine.

And as we know,

Ben was a supernova in a night

sky filled with baby stars.

We miss you, Ben.

Paula?

Thank you.

Thank you, Ralph.

And thank you, Ben.

Ralph and I have been talking.

And in Ben's name,

we feel that it is appropriate

that we carry on.

Billy,

you have thoroughly proven,

with your fitting tribute

to Ben,

that you're more than capable

of taking on Laertes.

And the rest of us

will just cover.

Uh, that is,

assuming that our Ophelia,

Juliet, is fit and well.

Ready and willing.

Those in favor raise your hand.

- I am.

Bravo!

Bravo, then!

After what we discussed,

aren't you jumping the gun?

Paula was very insistent.

The venue is still

a cordoned area.

Yes. It was then that she

pointed out that we simply move.

To a park, perhaps --

in true traveling-players style.

Ralph, while I admire

your enthusiasm,

it wasn't the venue

that killed Ben.

It was someone,

quite possibly in your cast,

that did.

But it was an asthma attack.

Asthma can be

triggered in different ways.

Someone in this room?

Possibly.

I find that hard to believe.

Well done, you gorgeous man!

Such fortitude.

Don't you think, Michael?

Thank you for the flowers.

Flowers?

Playing coy?

The beautiful bouquet

that you sent with my dad.

Remember --

They're from your Hamlet.

He wants his Ophelia back.

He loves you very much.

Yeah. No, I'm not really

a flowers guy, eh?

Then I feel

all the more special.

No, I mean I didn't actually...

Sending my father

as an emissary.

I mean, kind of old-fashioned

but very romantic.

You know, it's really sad

what happened to Ben.

But there's always

a silver lining.

And we have to carry on,

don't we?

I see.

I didn't send them, eh?

How could you say that?

Don't say that.

I...got to tell it like it is,

eh?

Have you no heart?!

Do you know

what I've been through?!

I have to rest.

What have you said?

What have you done this time?

Really.

Now. Speak.

- What's with the flowers?

- Sorry?

Juliet said you delivered

flowers from me.

But I didn't send any.

Yes, I delivered flowers,

but not from you.

They're from your cast

of "Hamlet."

They want their Ophelia back.

They love you very much.

It's the medication,

I would think.

She's young and confused.

But really, Jared,

you need to be more sensitive!

Maybe you need to find

another Hamlet.

I just...

And lo, another diva was born.

Really.

Ben's wake, too.

Gina.

You have the mind

of an assassin.

The inside

of the inhaler's mouthpiece

was laced with cyanide paste.

When the victim took off the cap

and depressed the cannister,

it will have dispensed a lethal

amount straight into his lungs.

...like actually crying!

He would have inhaled deeply,

thinking it will ease

his asthma.

It would have acted with fury.

Let's go through it again.

Okay,

Someone wanted Ben Faulkner

dead.

The reason --

yet to be determined.

They switch his inhaler.

He essentially executes himself.

Then the perpetrator later dumps

the inhaler in the rubbish bin.

Inhaler -- sophisticated.

Rubbish bin -- clumsy.

Suspects.

Billy Franks,

who wanted to play Laertes

and now may get his chance.

Is that reason to kill?

In or out?

In.

Neil Bloom?

Could have been trying to

eliminate Ben --

jealous over Gray's affections?

Jealously beats amateur-theater

aspirations in my book.

In.

Are these images

off Ben's phone?

Yeah.

King of the selfie, eh?

On the other hand,

Gray is the only one

with an obvious connection

to the poison.

He swears he hasn't seen Nelly

in years.

But he made the props.

In the end, it wasn't a prop

that killed Ben.

In or out?

Leave him in.

Ruth Phelps.

Wanted to hurt Ben

for hurting her daughter.

Wanted to hurt Ralph

for not letting her perform.

In.

Ralph St. John.

Ugh.

Tosser of the year.

Put his play

ahead of everything else.

But why would he murder someone

who was making him look good?

Ben was good, wasn't he?

Depends on who you talk to.

In.

Juliet Phelps.

In.

Paula Worthington.

Yeah, who coveted Ben,

but, one would have to say,

seems very keen to move on

in the interest of her charity.

Why do people insist on making

things plural with a "Z"?

Is the charity legit?

Ben is the sole beneficiary,

and Paula is one

of two trustees.

I'm still tracking

the other one down.

In.

Four days in,

and we've managed to put

everyone back up on the board.

And we haven't proved

that any of these people

have actual access to cyanide.

Or maybe we have.

Senior.

Here.

That's Ben with Billy Franks.

Yeah?

That building.

It's Smelly Nelly Jenkins'

place.

So Billy was up there with Ben.

Which means Billy had

opportunity.

And someone else --

whoever took that photo.

Oh, yeah. It's not a selfie.

They're doing that dumb

gangster stuff with both hands.

So presumably it was Nelly?

She wouldn't touch a mobile.

Reckons they give you cancer.

Someone else took that photo.

D.S.S. Mike Shepherd.

Ms. Jenkins,

do you recognize these boys?

Maybe.

Yes or no?

That's Gray's little man Friday.

Gray told me that the two of you

have had nothing to do with each

other for the last 20 years.

He's right about that.

Then how do you know

that Billy is his man Friday?

Came up here to buy skins.

Are you sure

you don't want some?

Uh, no, thanks.

And Ben Faulkner was with him?

No.

That was another time.

Billy's visited twice?

Why?

What is it to you?

Did you take this photo?

- No.

- Then who did?

Might've been the, uh,

the brown boy.

Brown boy?

Yeah.

Maori fella.

Jared Morehu?

Rings a bell.

There was a bunch of them.

You told D.C. Breen

that no one comes up here.

I said hardly no one

comes up here.

Check your facts.

See ya.

Did you take this picture?

Not me.

Then who?

- Nelly?

- No.

Ralph?

I don't know.

I'd probably gone by then.

Ralph St. John?

How many Ralphs do you know?

What were you doing up there?

Rehearsing.

The beauty of the world!

He reckons the place

is a natural amphitheater.

The paragon of animals!

Good to practice

our vocal technique,

mainly because Ben and Billy

were asthmatics

and needed to develop

their breath control.

O, treble woe.

Fall 10 times treble

on that cursed head --

Up you go, Jared.

Oh, no.

I'm all good.

I felt like an egg.

Why was Ruth there?

Stage manager.

Prompting lines.

Why'd you go to Nelly's?

Oh, she rumbled us.

What the hell are you fellas

doing in my gully?

Next thing you know,

we were back at the hut.

I've got pies.

We're fine.

Nourished by the language

of the Bard.

Have I just helped too much

with your inquiries?

Well, here he comes.

Good morning.

Bang on time this morning, Bill.

Thank you, Jean.

You know Detective Shepherd.

Yes.

Oh, let me get you a cup, too.

What do you take?

Uh, gumboot with milk.

Oh. Right.

With a view like this,

who would want an office job?

I suppose so.

Up here I imagine you could

almost get the same resonance

as Echo Gully.

If that was the case, I wouldn't

go all the way up there.

Echo Gully has

a remarkably unique quality.

Yes.

As does Nelly Jenkins' tea,

I understand.

I wouldn't know.

Really?

Some of us went up to Echo Gully

for a sojourn.

Nelly invited us in and served

some extremely odd tea, yes,

but I didn't drink it.

Echo Gully is where we go

to practice vocal technique.

Ralph, why did Mrs. Marlowe

call you Bill?

What I do here is merely

another role that I play.

Bill the Postie?

Something like that.

Bringing the news.

Important news.

- Ralph --

- Bill.

Bill...I strongly advise you

not to go ahead with the play.

I couldn't agree more.

But I fear that train has left

the station.

Paula has contacted the press.

It's a sellout.

Like you,

I feel very conflicted.

You know, there's a rehearsal

tonight for Billy.

Perhaps you could come along and

make sure everything went well.

I might just do that.

But, uh, now,

if you don't mind...

...I really must go.

See you tonight.

Bye, Jean.

Bye.

There you are, then.

Off he goes.

Thanks.

Tell me --

Why Bill and not Ralph?

Bill as in Buffalo Bill

of the Pony Express,

the bringer of news.

The mail must go through.

Yes.

Bill always says, "Without me,

people would be cut off,

stranded in suburbia

with only the tiresome Internet.

Yes, mail is the last bastion

of true human connection."

- And Shakespeare, I expect.

- Oh, of course.

Wasn't Jared a wonderful Hamlet?

Mm.

So it's true, then?

What's that?

Young Ben Faulkner

was practicing homosexualism

with Gray Jenkins.

Uh, n-no.

Um...

Oh.

It's an ongoing investigation.

- Oh. Of course.

Yeah.

If you hurt her again

in any way, I will deal to you.

- You understand?

- You need to calm down, Billy.

You need to stop acting

like Casanova

and start considering

people's feelings!

Billy, what is going on here?

Why don't you ask Hamlet pants?

He sends her flowers,

romances her,

and then denies it --

makes her even more confused.

Threatening people

is a serious offense.

Oh, yeah?

Up there with heartbreak?

I understand you've been

up to Nelly Jenkins' place.

So what?

Were you ever there on your own?

No.

What about when you went

to pick up the skins for Gray?

I don't know.

Maybe!

Was Nelly with you there

the whole time?

- Yes!

- Are you sure?

The place stinks.

Nothing could make me stay there

a moment longer than necessary.

Not even the chance

to play Laertes?

I don't know what that means.

I have to go.

So, have you been getting it on

with Juliet Phelps?

No.

Seriously.

She's not even my type.

I got to go to rehearsal.

I thought you might be

chucking it in.

Yeah. Well, the show must go on

and all of that, eh?

Hyah!

Ow.

Okay.

Chill out, dude,

or I will deck you.

Stop. Stop!

That is not the line.

Focus, please!

And where is Juliet?

She's unwell, Ralph.

But we must rehearse!

Hyah!

Ha!

A hit! A hit!

A palpable hit!

Are you looking for a part?

Oh, I'm looking for something.

You're not meant to be...

- Already dead.

- Oh.

I'd leave,

but I have to wait for notes.

It's the rhythm, you see.

It mimics the heart,

the beat of life --

ba-boom, ba-boom,

ba-boom, ba-boom.

Everyone, please.

Ba-boom, ba-boom,

ba-boom, ba-boom.

What do you make of all this?

I'm a Shakespeare Luddite.

Not the Shakespeare.

This, uh, group.

Gray wanting Ben.

Ben not loving Juliet

but Billy does.

Yet Juliet has the hots

for Jared,

who's decidedly uninterested.

Ruth is estranged from Ralph.

And Ralph, well,

he's completely asexual.

He gets his kicks

from being both mother hen

and stern father to them all.

That is the thing

about amateur theater.

Everyone is trying to sleep

with everyone else.

Stop!

Stop!

Everyone, please.

Really?

Must you?

Your talking

is very distracting.

Apologies, Ralph.

When I suggested you come,

it wasn't to be disruptive.

That was not my intention.

I appreciate you being here.

I really do.

But please, as a courtesy,

be as quiet as you can.

Picking it up

from where we left off, please.

- How does the Queen?

She swounds to see them bleed.

No. No.

The drink.

- Oh, my dear Hamlet!

The drink! The drink!

I am poisoned.

Let the door be locked.

Treachery!

Seek it out!

The king is to blame.

Then, venom, to thy work!

Aah!

- Treason! Treason!

- Treason! Treason!

Oh, yet defend me, friends!

I am but hurt!

Here now, thou incestuous,

murderous, damned Dane.

Drink this poison.

Is thy union here?!

Oh, damn it!

Jesus Christ!

Okay.

That's not the line.

Dude, are you all right?

Ralphie?

He's not acting, is he?

Ralph? Ralph?

R-Ruth! Ruth!

An ambulance!

- Oh, God. Not again.

- Hold him. Hold him.

An ambulance.

Please!

Ah.

The Brokenwood Courier.

I can see the headline now --

"Death-defying performance."

Ah.

So kind of you to come.

We're pleased we're still

only investigating one death,

not two.

Believe me, so am I.

Ralph, you crushed

the blood capsule in your teeth.

Yes -- after Hamlet wounds me.

There's nothing unusual in that.

Except that it contained

cyanide.

Yes.

Well, if I'd known that...

The doctors said it's a miracle

I'm not dead.

It is.

It seems whoever laced

that capsule didn't use enough.

Who would do such a thing?

Whoever it is targeted Ben

and now you.

Do you have any idea why?

No.

Is the blood capsule something

you carry, or it given to you?

Ruthie hands it to me

just before I go on.

But that was just a rehearsal.

Technical rehearsal --

so Billy would know

exactly what was going on.

And Ruth gets them

from Gray Jenkins?

Please.

Ruthie wouldn't.

No.

Well, we have to consider

all the options.

You should get some rest.

It was a sellout, you know.

The performance?

Critics from the city

were coming.

It would have been lovely

for the cast.

Better that you're alive.

I owe you an apology.

It seems you were right

all along.

One of these people wanted Ben

and Ralph dead.

It's got to be Gray Jenkins.

- Motive?

- He doesn't like Ralph.

He doesn't respect him.

I'm not sure he hates him.

He wanted to sabotage the play.

Why?

His partner, Neil, is in it.

How much

does he care about Neil?

He admitted he hated the play.

And he killed Ben

because of some jealous response

to being spurned.

Very Shakespearean.

Or country and western.

Just saying.

Sabotage, you reckon?

Really?

I say we search his premises.

Bring him in

for a formal interview.

We might be able to hold him

on the basis

of what comes to light.

Gray?

No.

I don't believe it.

He's yet to be charged,

but I thought you should know.

But why?

Well, hopefully the reasons

will come to light

after a full interview.

I admit to being none the wiser

over this thing.

It means many things

to many people.

That's the Bard's magic.

Oh, the, uh, the cordon's

been lifted on your stage.

You could proceed with

the charity performance now.

Up to you.

If only I had the strength.

These are from

your costume company.

If you say so.

It was a capsule

identical to these

that contained cyanide that

Ralph St. John put in his mouth.

Well, he's an idiot, isn't he?

- He nearly died.

- For God's sake.

They're capsules.

They pull apart.

Anyone could have put anything

inside them.

Did you?

No.

Did you poison Ben Faulkner?

I most certainly did not.

Your partner is a pharmacist.

He'd be pretty handy

with capsules like these.

He doesn't deal in fake blood.

What about cyanide?

Oh. No.

That's your ex-wife, isn't it?

I have never handled cyanide.

I guarantee that these capsules

do not contain any trace

of cyanide.

In fact, I'll show you.

Hey!

Christ! That's evidence!

You see?! You see?!

There's no cyanide here!

You see?!

Okay. That's just really messy.

Let's get you cleaned up.

Get me cleaned up?

Get me a bloody lawyer!

That went well.

Crazy bastard.

Still think he's the one?

You better hope the S.S.G.

comes up with something.

The perpetrator didn't expect us

to find the inhaler.

They wanted us to think that

the blood bag on Ben's sleeve

killed him.

They wanted us to think

that Gray did it.

Or he's playing a double bluff.

Or...

Some research on

Munchausen syndrome by proxy --

where mothers hurt their

own children to seek attention.

We should reconsider

Ruth Phelps.

Is this about how "Hamlet"

is all to do with mother issues?

What if she's been

deliberately harming Juliet

both physically

and psychologically?

- She kills Ben to get at Juliet?

- It's a way of hurting her.

But Ben had already dumped

Juliet.

Yeah, but you saw the way

his death affected her.

She had a complete breakdown.

And then Mummy steps in

to care for her

with all the attention

of the medical world

at her beck and call.

It's textbook stuff.

Then why hit Ralph?

Just as Juliet is bouncing back,

she hurts her again --

this time by hurting her father.

The same father

that wouldn't let Ruth act

in the beloved play.

Told you she was a psycho.

She was the stage manager,

in charge of the props table.

She had all the time

in the world backstage

to switch those inhalers.

And we can place her

at Nelly's hut.

Well?

It doesn't explain one thing.

How did Ralph manage

to have a cyanide pill crushed

in his teeth and survive?

Whoever it was

that planted that capsule

was either trying

a copycat killing

and didn't know

what they were doing --

Or they were trying to send

a message

and knew exactly

what they were doing.

Kristin.

The S.S.G. have come back

negative on cyanide

at the Costume Company

and Gray Jenkins' home.

Right.

Should I let him go?

No.

I have a question for him.

I'll have grounds

more relative than this --

The play's the thing

wherein I'll catch

the conscience of a king.

Hey.

Hot off the press.

"Mr. Ralph St. John, a personal

friend of Sir Ian McKellen,

is delighted to announce

that the show will go on.

Despite losing an actor

to a fatal asthma attack

and himself suffering

a recent hospitalization,

Mr. St. John says the Brokenwood

community deserves theater

of a professional standard.

With all proceeds

going to Awesome Orphanz,

tonight's show is a sellout.

That says a lot.

Yeah -- about Ralph St. John's

massive ego.

I think you're right

about the Munchausen's thing.

Seriously?

Can I get Ruth Phelps in here?

Let me talk to Gray Jenkins

first.

Where's my lawyer?

My question isn't about you.

It's about putting on a play.

Well, if I don't like

what you ask, I won't answer.

Fair enough.

Billy Franks was the understudy

for Laertes.

Yes.

So, who was the understudy

for Hamlet?

No one.

The role's too big.

No Hamlet, no show.

Oh, you could do it.

You've done before.

Oh, 40 years ago, yes.

What about Ralph?

He must know it.

Detective, there are

30,000 words that Hamlet speaks.

Plus he's too old.

Every male actor thinks

they have the definitive Hamlet

inside them.

In the end, most of them get

too scared to try

or are never asked.

The rest are often terrible.

Most of them get too old

and the chance passes them by.

At least I had my chance.

Paper bag or no paper bag.

And Ralph never did?

And never will, which is why

he resents me so much.

You should get yourself

cleaned up.

Oh, hey.

I've just realized.

If Ruth Phelps wanted to hurt

her daughter,

who would her next target be?

- Who is she in love with?

- Jared.

Best we get to the theater.

I can't go on knowing Jared

thought I was a joke.

Oh, nonsense.

You'll be magnificent.

And men like that,

they get what they deserve.

That boy does not deserve you.

All right.

Places, everybody.

Beginners, stand by.

Hey.

You can do this.

We can do this.

Please.

For me?

And especially...

for your father.

Am I late?

Am I late?

We had an earlier call.

Yeah.

I didn't get the message.

And why are you wearing

my costume?

Jared, we've talked

amongst ourselves

and decided that you will be

stood down as Hamlet.

What?

All this nonsense.

Playing with the young girl's

emotions.

Jared, it's bollocks, mate.

Really crap, actually.

We can't have her

falling apart onstage, mate.

And we weren't sure

quite how far you would go.

What's going on?

As Ralph is the only one with

a working knowledge of the part,

he will play the title role.

Yeah.

Good luck with that.

Uh, ladies and gentlemen,

the role of Hamlet tonight

will be performed

by Ralph St. John.

Thank you.

Hey!

Hey.

You're okay.

Uh, a bit of hurt pride,

but yeah.

Why?

Taking cyanide --

That's a hell of a way to move

the spotlight off yourself.

Excuse me?

That must have taken some guts.

But then you did have

the amyl nitrate.

Draws out all the aging toxins

in your skin.

Stop and come here!

I can't reach you.

What you are talking about?

The casing of the ampule I found

in the Theatre Society toilets.

Still, if you're going to

mess around with cyanide,

pays to have the antidote handy

too.

An ambulance.

Please!

Damn plastic.

Wouldn't disappear.

Like the inhaler in the bin.

Are you aware there are

over 150 people out there

waiting for the show to begin?

Mm.

Yes.

I don't have time

to read the paper.

Oh, but it's all about you.

It's the interview you gave

before we spoke at the hospital.

I gave many interviews.

Meaning you had already decided

that the show would go on.

There are some very influential

people in that audience

who will not appreciate

being kept waiting.

You knew there was no danger

because the danger

could only come from you.

Critics from the city.

And why is that, Ralph?

They're all here to see

what the commotion is about.

This play has garnered

incredible attention

for all the wrong reasons.

It's a marvelous production.

See, that's the bit

I couldn't quite work out

until my esteemed colleague,

Detective Sims,

posited the notion

of Munchausen's by proxy.

What is this nonsense?

Detective.

Uh, where a parent deliberately

hurts their own child

in order to seek attention.

In 78% of reported cases, it's

a maternal perpetrator, but...

...in rarer cases,

it's the father.

Ben was expendable.

You knew you had Billy waiting

to step up.

This is nonsense.

Nonsensical nonsense.

Killing Ben was hurting

the thing you loved the most --

your precious play --

to get the eyes of the world

on you.

Having first doctored the blood

bag to point the finger at Gray,

you then engineered

to play the title role yourself

by casting Jared as the bad guy,

ensuring that your Hamlet

would be seen

by all the most important people

and that long-overdue

recognition

would be rightfully yours.

Isn't that right, Ralph --

or Bill or...

whoever it is you think you are?

This needs to wait

till after the show.

What, arrest you later so that

you can fulfill your dream?

So many people, you see.

To be...

...or not to be.

Ralph St. John,

I'm arresting you for the murder

of Ben Faulkner.

Using your own flesh and blood.

- You sad, pathetic man.

Jared.

Where's Jared?

Jared, you're on.

Should we get this show

on the road?

Let's go and break a leg, Billy.

Uh, ladies and gentlemen,

excuse me.

Ladies and gentlemen, another

change to this evening's show.

The, uh, title role will again

be played by Jared Morehu.

- Thank you.

Sorry about before.

Love your work.

Really, Jarry.

We can do this.

Okay.

Here's the thing.

I would've handed in

that assignment,

but I thought my thesis

was too radical.

I always thought

to gain a better insight

into Hamlet's psyche,

he should've been played

as a-a woman.

Really?

Crazy, I know.

Well, that's a shame.

You would've received

an excellence for it.

♪ We got thrown together ♪

♪ By some good fortune ♪

♪ Down in the wilds

of November ♪

♪ Toward the quarter-moon ♪

Who's there?

Nay, answer me!

Stand and unfold yourself!

♪...as we went along ♪

♪ I never dreamed

for the life of me ♪

♪ We'd still be singing

this song ♪

♪ And it goes don't let go ♪

♪ Don't let go ♪

♪ Don't let go ♪

♪ No, don't let go ♪

♪ Don't let go ♪

♪ Don't let go ♪

♪ Of the wheel inside ♪