All language subtitles for Mr . Mrs Murder.S01E13 - The Course Whisperer

We should come to a place
like this for our anniversary.

I mean, not here, obviously,
but a place like this,

where somebody hasn't been murdered.

- Yeah, that'd be nice.
- Yeah.

If either of you see
a dead chef around the place,

tell him I'd love to catch up.

What are you saying, there's no body?

How do you know there's been a murder?

Nobody could have survived
that sort of blood loss.

How do you know the blood loss
came from your missing chef?

Seeing he's the only one missing,

it's a fairly safe bet.

- OK.
- It's Bryce Cormac, by the way.

- Ohh!
- We like him, don't we?

We know he was in the kitchen

till the very early hours of the morning

because he left a message on
his wife's phone around 4:30am.

Oh! Oh, Peter, you might have warned us.

First on the scene was
a pig farmer, Lincoln Tucker.

Early morning delivery,
got the fright of his life,

and Babe hit the deck.

Someone's tried to clean up.

And was this pot on the sink
left like this?

Well, we haven't moved anything.

The only prints we found were Bryce's.

We've been all over the premises.

Uniforms are doorknocking to see

if anyone witnessed
the body being removed.

And what about the rest
of Bryce's kitchen staff?

If the prelims are anything
to go by, they worship the bloke.

I mean, most of them are alibied,

confirmed out drinking together,

crashed on each other's couches,

including the dishpig, Hugo.

The dishwasher.

Yeah, dishpig, it just sounds
quite demeaning, doesn't it?

Well, that's what they call themselves.

Peter, it's a bit like when black people

use the n-word.

- Fine for them, not fine for us.
- No.

Anyway.

The only person yet to have
his whereabouts confirmed

is the prep chef, Rhys.

No-one could track him down,
but he's got form.

Six months ago, he attacked
the head chef at Maison Les Halles.

Ohh.

Did you know that pigs
are as intelligent as dogs?

Some are even as smart as dolphins.

Wasn't there a pig
that won the Victoria Cross?

Yes, there was. Yes, there was.

The animal equivalent of the
Victorian Cross is the Dickin Medal.

It was in the First World War.
Very interesting story.

He was a platoon mascot,
and he led his troop,

all who had been blinded by mustard gas,

from enemy lines
right through to safety.

- Pencils was his name.
- Ohh.

And he was later eaten
by Churchill himself.

- Oh.
- Quite an honour.

It's odd that the killer left
this sauce pot on the sink,

ready to be washed.

Well, in moments of acute stress,

the human mind does
often revert to habit.

Whoever it was knew their way
around a commercial kitchen.

Mmm. Oh!

Gandhi and Immanuel Kant.

Great thinkers above the sink.

There's a coffee table book in that.

It's not right, Charlie.

They didn't even leave a body
for his poor wife to bury.

This section here,
it's all perfectly aligned.

Everything's in alphabetical order.

And then you've got
this spice section here.

- It's quite random.
- Yeah.

Costmary. Sorrel. Cassia.

Not your average herbs, are they?

They're positively medieval.

Whoever tried to clean here has a...

a really unusual cleaning motion.

- Hmm?
- Most people, they...

They wipe in an anticlockwise
direction. This is...

- This was clockwise.
- OK, so, what?

You think the killer's left-handed?

Well, no, it doesn't really matter

if you're left- or right-handed.

Nearly everyone wipes the same way.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- Yeah, you're right.
- Yeah.

Except this person.

Whoever they are.

Uh, we certainly
will be reopening, sir, yes.

As soon as possible.

It's a bit soon, don't you think?

Being here probably
makes her feel closer to Bryce.

I mean, if you died,
I'd want to carry on our work.

- Without me?
- Sure. I'd rename the business.

I'd call it the Nicola Buchanan
Cleaning Agency in your honour.

I'd put a statue of you
on the roof, and, uh...

It'd revolve,
and the eyes would light up,

depending on which way it was turning.

- Oh, right.
- Be great.

- Tasteful and functional.
- I think so.

- I should take that.
- Really appreciate it.

Thank you. No, no.

The cooking classes
will continue as normal.

That's right. Goodbye.

OK, we need everything soaked
and cleaned for Friday night.

- Matilda!
- What?

If you must be here,
will you at least work?

I'm doing it.

Hi. Sorry. Um...

We've... we've finished up,
and I'll be back tomorrow

to meet with the
health inspector to sign off.

Thank you. I really appreciate
all of your hard work.

Oh, that's fine - it must be very hard,

reopening under the circumstances.

Well, we have to.

This place meant more to my
husband than anything else.

He would have wanted us to keep going.

And how are you managing?

Oh, I... don't really want

to stop and think right now,
and the patrons, the critics,

everyone wants to pay their respects.

My phone was off. Is it true?

What happened? Is he really...

- Rhys.
- ..dead?

Oh, no, no, piss off!

- We want to talk to you.
- I didn't do anything!

Come on, mate.

I know Rhys has a record and
he's used violence before,

but a crime of passion like that -

would you hang around to clean up?

Well, maybe it's because he had a record

he wanted to get rid of the evidence.

Knew he'd be the number one suspect.

Getting rid of a body is
no small task. He's not a big guy.

I don't think he'd be able to carry a
body that size without being noticed.

Well, maybe he had help.

Or maybe Bryce wasn't
that difficult to carry anymore.

Chefs, particularly prep chefs,
are pretty handy with knives.

The garbage bags.

They were the only thing
out of alignment in the kitchen.

Cutting up the body would
explain why there was so much blood.

Think I've gone off the idea
of a barbecue.

- Could I just...?
- Yeah, sure.

Uh, yeah. Um...

I'm not entirely sure

about procedure in a case like this.

Well, in addition to
the three mandatory steams,

we've also done two dry passes

and we also ran the dehumidifier
throughout the night.

Oh...

We've got to restock
and start from scratch

if we're to open Friday.

We have to open.

- Please?
- Right. Well, um...

If you come with me,
I'll get the paperwork.

- Oh, thank you.
- Alright.

We've got a crate of lobster
coming at 10:00,

so we'll stick with
Bryce's dish for now.

Bryce's menu only works with Bryce's

secret sauces, and
they're all in the bin.

The cops have got his coded recipe book.

I've got a dish that'll work.

I don't need something
that will just work, Doyle.

Go with Bryce's menu.

I can't go with Bryce's menu
without his cookbook.

No-one can read his cookbook but him.

Doyle!

Ah, yes. The fan of the great thinkers.

The cleaner of society's by-products.

Well, that's what it says
on the van, kind of.

"Civilised man is a more
experienced and wiser savage."

Thoreau.

- 10 points.
- Thank you.

You're up with your
19th-century abolitionists.

- Well, I try.
- Well...

Do you want me to test
your observational skills?

- Sure, I'm game.
- I'm wearing a badge.

Whose photograph does it feature?

- Oprah Winfrey?
- You joke.

Because you think you don't know.

Focus on nothing,
and inside there is the answer.

George Orwell.

Well done.

Well, thank you.

Sorry to interrupt, but we
have a lot of prep work to do.

- The menu's outdated.
- No more arguments, Doyle.

Everything stays as is.

Except for the
pecan-and-apple-infused pork,

which we're cancelling
for obvious reasons.

Get Lincoln to deliver another
one. God knows, he owes us.

Oh, I was just wondering
how you infuse a pig

with apple and pecan.

Pig meat is especially
responsive to its diet.

Really, you can get pork
to taste like anything

depending on what you're feeding it.

- Alfalfa, acorns, quinoa.
- Yep, yep, absolutely right.

You remember
our war hero friend, Pencils?

You know how he got his name, don't you?

'Cause he broke into the
quartermaster's stationery store

and he, you know...

The men couldn't write home for a month.

True story.

Oh, gosh.

Funny old world, isn't it?

It's quite full-on
to code a cookbook, isn't it?

Well, chefs live or die on
the originality of their dishes.

Mmm. Yeah.

Don't think Thingie would let us
look at that cookbook, do you?

Oh, given Peter's current mood, no.

I called him about
our garbage bag theory.

- He still hasn't called back.
- Really?

Mmm.

- If pigs will eat anything...
- Mmm?

Do you think they might eat a dead body?

During the American Civil War,

feral hogs used to come out
after the battles and...

tidy up.

Maybe Bryce's body parts have ended up

at Lincoln's pig farm.

Perhaps Lincoln didn't just
discover the murder scene.

Yeah. Maybe he created it.

Fingers.

Right, OK. Coast is clear.

- It's all good.
- Well, how can you tell?

I mean... Anybody could be in that shed.

They could be hiding
in that water tower.

No, it's all good, sweetie.

They could be there waiting
and loading a shotgun.

♪ Bow ba-ba-ba-ba bow... ♪

You're humming an investigative tune.

You know I'm a sucker for that.

I suppose you get used to the smell,

you know, after a couple of years.

Yeah. Yeah. I know
my sense of smell's out of whack.

To me it smells like that caravan park

we stayed in at Dromana last year.

No, I think you're right.

What the hell are you doing?

Oh, hello!

Not to worry.
We're professional cleaners.

- Aren't we, darling?
- Hello.

I don't care who you are.
Get outta here!

Oh, no, no, this is a free,
no-obligation quote.

I don't want any weirdos
messing with my babies.

We looked in the area.
We reckon, um, $15,000.

Two weeks, we'll have it
smelling like a pine cone.

- Right, darling?
- Charlie?

It's his hat.

I'm not a killer! I'm a pig
farmer! For Christ's sake!

Oh, it's terrible.
How could someone do that?

I'm just not sure he did -
Forensics know Bryce was killed

shortly before Lincoln found him
and raised the alarm.

There wouldn't have been time
to drive a body out here

then drive back and raise the alarm.

Unless he was working with someone else.

My money's on that other cook, Rhys.

No, no. Peter, no, no.
He's a damaged kid.

But he's not a killer. I know that.

- I can feel that in my waters.
- No, you don't.

That kid has priors, motive,
no alibi and a biblical temper.

And a smart-arse lawyer,

and we've had to release him for now.

But with this new evidence,
it's only a matter of time.

I never thought I'd
say these words in this order,

but maybe Peter is right.

Rhys plus history of violence
plus evidence

does equal likely suspect.

I know, I know,
but you should have seen Rhys

in the restaurant when he heard.

It doesn't add up.

You know, everyone has an alibi.

Everyone supposedly loved Bryce.

It's just too neat, you know?

And if Lincoln did have an accomplice,

it has to have been
someone from the restaurant.

You want to go back
to the restaurant, don't you?

Whereas I think,
given we both smell of pig dung,

we should both go home
and have a shower.

Call me old-fashioned, but...

given that our tenth wedding
anniversary is tomorrow,

I would love to see in the new day

not reeking of animal faeces.

OK, well, how about this for a plan?

What say you go home
and you draw a hot, steamy bath

and you light some candles and
you put on some romantic music,

say some Vangelis, or some Philip Glass,

and when I get home from the restaurant,

we celebrate our tenth
wedding anniversary a little early?

I will draw the most realistic
bath you have ever seen.

It's OK. It's OK.

Oh!

- Hello.
- Oh, hi.

I'm wanting to book in
for the cooking classes.

They're still going, aren't they?

Yep. You're lucky -
there's a couple of places left.

I just think it's so great

the way you guys
have all banded together

to keep Razorback going.

It must be such a great team.

Sorry.

No, it's, um...

It's what Bryce would have wanted.

He was crazy about his cooking.

He was... passionate.

Excuse me.

Hello? Hi.

I was just, uh, wondering
about the cooking classes.

Hey, um, how's that husband of yours?

Is he still using his humour to deflect?

You know, it can also illuminate.

Um...

So, what's on the menu for Friday?

Well, the maestro here won
his battle and will be presenting

his own signature dish to the world.

Oh, congratulations!
That's great! What is it?

Oh, well, that's a secret for now,

and you might be working for the press.

No, no, this one works for the police.

Ah. Um...

Has there been any news since the...

I really wouldn't know.

I think they're still
speaking to Lincoln.

Has Lincoln been supplying
Razorback for long?

A couple of years. He stopped
for a little while, though.

- Why?
- That was between Bryce and him.

- Some kind of argument.
- Well, some kind of fight.

As in a physical fight?

But they... they patched it up?

I wouldn't exactly say that.

You know what? I am gonna
tell you what the sides are.

- But you are sworn to secrecy.
- Oh, OK.

Garlic potatoes.

The secret ingredient is goose fat.

Ooh! That's one of your creations?

No, that's a... That's a team
effort. Wouldn't you say?

Yeah, team, as in Bryce saying,
"Here's the recipe, people.

"Make it and you won't get hurt."

Oh, but Bryce wasn't
one of those sort of

Gordon Ramsay knife-throwing
chefs, though, was he?

No. No, no, no.
He was just, um... passionate.

Hey, Doyle. Give her a taste
of that passion.

Ohh!

- Mmm!
- Mmm.

Oh, that's beautiful.
That's so delicious.

Am I getting fennel?

- Very good.
- Ha!

Wow!

It's a very strange kitchen, Charlie.

Well, it's a high-stress environment.

People who work in commercial kitchens

have the highest rate of addiction

than any other profession.

Well, looking at Peter today,
you'd think cops must be

quite high up on that list too.

Well, I've always said he drinks.

So did you find out
anything new about Bryce?

Yeah, apparently,
he had a fight with Lincoln.

Really? Lincoln seemed like
such a reasonable lunatic.

And whenever anyone describes Bryce,

they say he was passionate.

Rudolph Valentino passionate?

- I'm thinking more Idi Amin.
- Ah.

Maybe he pushed someone too far.

Yes, yes.

Maybe someone saw Lincoln
stand up to Bryce and, uh...

had a word or two to him.

Maybe. He had that fight with Bryce.

He had the means to dispose of the body.

Whoever it was, whoever
took that body to the pig farm,

must have left some telltale sign.

Apart from the chef's hat?

Apart from the chef's hat, yes.

Yes. Yeah.

Alright. Do you want
the cold end or the hot end?

- There are different ends?
- Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Oh!

- Great.
- Grade-A stuff!

Good.

Grade-A stuff for the pigs,
scraps for Lincoln!

Looks like he's struggling.
Maybe that's why they fought.

Like, if he's on the skids,
Bryce was underpaying him...

You know, maybe they had
another fight that turned bad.

Lincoln?

I'm not talking to you! Get out of here!

- What was that about?
- I don't know.

Long way to come
just to yell at somebody.

Yeah. You know, Rhys isn't
the only one without an alibi.

Ariel claims that she was asleep
when Bryce called,

but no-one's been questioning that.

- Charlie.
- Sheriff!

- Nic home?
- Nope.

Womenfolk are out learnin'
how to run a chuck wagon.

The girls have gone to cooking class.

What you got there
in that there saddlebag?

I'm gonna hate myself for this.

Bryce's cookbook. A copy of it anyway.

Oh, thank you!
Peter! You shouldn't have.

No, I know I shouldn't have, but, um...

You may have more luck
than we're having.

No, no, this is
very kind of you. Thank you.

Listen, Charlie.

I've been a bit of a heel lately,

and I wanted to apologise
to Nic and... you.

Sometimes I think
I'm my own worst enemy.

Not while I'm around, Peter.

Um, the moment
you discover anything at all,

you call me, alright?

Absolutely, yeah. I'll do that.

No citizen's arrest or... Charlie!

Yeah, yeah. No, no. Got you. Yep.

No citizen's arrest.

Please say I'm sorry to Nic.

Yeah. Yeah, I'll...
I'll be sure to mention it.

I'll demonstrate what it
is that makes my mujaddara

the type of meal that'll have everyone

at your next dinner party
putting their keys in the bowl

before dessert.

Surely you don't need food to convince
your guests to stay around for dessert.

OK, I need you to go over
and talk to Rhys,

find out what you can about Ariel.

- Him?
- Yep.

- Please.
- OK.

I'll use 'Menopause the Musical'
as cover.

Great. I'm gonna see
if I can get into her office.

So we've prepared
a few ingredients here.

You put the carrot,
which is already diced...

Mind if I observe for a bit?

Sure.

Does it bother you, having all
these people in your kitchen?

You, uh... you get used to
a lot of background noise

when working with Bryce.

I was a waitress once
at a restaurant in the city.

And one time, the line cook
over-fired the creme brulee

and ended up with a fork
stuck in his ear, so...

Yeah, um...

My last boss
liked to throw hot oven trays.

- Oh, my God.
- Yeah.

- Till I threw one back at him.
- Oh.

- Wait, was that Bryce?
- No. Um...

Bryce, he never meant
to mess with anyone.

He just wanted us to do a better job.

You know, you've just
gotta roll with the punches.

And what about Ariel?

What about Ariel?

Hi.

How are you feeling
about tonight, Matilda?

Um... look, I'll just be glad

when everything's back to normal.

Do you like the job?

Um...

It's stressful and pays next to nothing.

I don't know, when you're in service

and everything just works, it feels
like you're a part of something.

Yeah, I can imagine. Oh, sorry. Um...

Uh... No, I'm not allowed
to eat soft cheeses.

Are you pregnant?

Oh, no, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?

He's dead.

I loved him, and now he's dead.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

- Oh... Darling, it's beautiful.
- Do you like it?

- I love it. Thank you so much.
- I'm so pleased.

- It's fantastic.
- It's so unfair, Charlie.

Poor Ariel wanted
so desperately to have a baby,

and then when that failed,
she went all the way

down the road towards adoption.

Could you pass me the balsamic?

- Really?
- Yeah.

Thanks, sweetie.

Thanks, darling.

And her husband's
having a baby with Matilda.

That's a strong motive for murder.

- Yes, very strong.
- Oh, could you, um, garlic?

Right. Can you...

Sorry, can you...
Can you get that, sweetie?

Oh, right, yeah, yeah. The door. Yeah.

Oh, God.

- Hi.
- Peace offering.

That's not necessary. I told her
you were sorry, so that's fine.

Oh. I wanted to do it in person.

- Truce?
- Thank you.

Oh. Very good month.

- I won't stay.
- Uh... Oh! OK. Sure.

Something special
for the anniversary, yeah?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, you know.

It's the tin anniversary,
so we're going all out.

- Sorry?
- The tenth anniversary.

We celebrate it with tin.
Call it the tin anniversary.

It's spooky, because
today is my annivorcary.

- What's...
- The anniversary of my divorce.

My ex-wife came up with that.
She had a way with words.

- Yeah.
- I really miss that.

Nic, it's Peter!

- He's gonna stay for dinner.
- Oh, no.

- Yes!
- Are you sure?

- Come in. Please.
- Thank you, Charlie.

I'm as surprised as you are.
But think of poor Peter.

- Poor Peter?
- Yeah, yeah.

It's the anniversary
of his wife leaving him.

He's miserable. He's a
difficult man to get along with.

He's got a lousy sense of humour,
doesn't dress well at all.

Look at him.

If you left me,
I'd probably end up like that.

More distinguished, obviously.

- To another 10 years.
- 10 years.

Nic. This is amazing.

Look at the effort he's going to.

The poor, lonely, hungry,
wifeless bastard.

Yes, Ariel has no alibi,
but we have no proof.

She willingly admitted that
she knew about Matilda and Bryce

and that she went to the pig
farm to find out from Lincoln

why her dead husband was
taken there, as he confirmed.

But couldn't they have acted together?

Well, along with a strong alibi,

Lincoln stands to lose
everything by Bryce's murder.

It's not a good look,
for either of their endeavours.

Well, I could sit here and listen
to you two theorise all night.

- But I have to go.
- Oh. OK.

Alright, thank you so much
for a beautiful dinner, Nic.

- Oh, no.
- There you go, Peter.

- Thanks, Charlie.
- Thanks for coming. Lovely.

Thank you. Oh, Charlie, how did
you go with cracking the code?

- No, I'm still working on it.
- You let me know, alright?

Absolutely. You'll be
the first person I ring.

Oops.

- Sorry. Alright. 'Bye.
- OK. Lovely. Thanks.

Let's do this again.

Good luck with everything.

Alright, Beau Geste, get your jacket.

We're gonna go out for a proper dinner.

Ah!

I'm sorry that there are no tables.

Oh, no, no, don't be silly.
We just came on a whim.

And we should have known
that you'd be packed.

I did manage to steal you a plate.

It's Doyle's new signature dish,
compliments of the house.

I was pretty nervous about it,
but it's actually amazing.

- So lovely of you. Thank you.
- Thank you very much.

- Enjoy.
- Very generous.

Oh, God, that's divine, isn't it?

Mmm. Plaster of Paris. My favourite.

- Shall we?
- Mmm.

Oh. Mmm.

- Oh, that's juniper.
- It's a little trouty.

No, something... something else
sort of bitter, at the end.

- The edge. Yeah.
- Is that fennel?

- Funny story about fennel.
- Mmm?

Sweetie?

Taste a little bit more. Tell me...

Tell me what else you can taste in that.

The slightly bitter thing, might be...

Could be anise.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I think I've worked out what's wrong

with Bryce's spice rack.

What?

I'll tell you in a minute.

- Sorry.
- No, no. My fault.

Oh...

I... I'm sorry.

I'm... Um...

That... That dish was so lovely.

Thank you.

He's having a baby.

Table five entrees done. Let's go!

- Oh, pardon me. Sorry.
- Looking for a job?

- No, no, no, I don't...
- Where is the fish?

- Yep, yep!
- Get onto it!

The complimentary meal.
It was a nice gesture.

- Yeah, thank you.
- That's alright. Thank you.

Can we please get some service?

Rhys, where's the fish?

- Have you been up all night?
- No, no. No, no, no.

Oh, darling.

- Any luck?
- Well...

He sawed through 15 cuckoo clocks.

Charlie.

I know it's expensive, darling.
But it does help me concentrate.

If anyone can
crack this puzzle, it's you.

- It's a code. It's a code.
- Code?

- Devilish code.
- Mmm.

Doesn't surprise me if it's complicated.

Bryce was nothing if not complicated.

Ariel found him infuriating,
but she obviously loved him,

and he treated poor Rhys
like some kind of slave

but still seemed to care for him.

And then there's Matilda. Well...

Speaking of which,
I'm gonna see her this morning.

Matilda the waitress?

I told her she could call
if she wanted to talk.

Texted me this morning.
Poor thing's going through hell.

She's just learnt that she's pregnant

and the father of her baby's dead.

You're a better man than I am,
Nicola Buchanan.

Oh. I guess.

- 'Bye.
- Bye-bye, darling.

'Bye, sweetie.

Hi. You've called Matilda.

I can't take your call right
now, so please leave a message.

You know, maybe it's, like,
coded, like, each spice...

Hey! Holy mackerel!
Why didn't I think of that?

These three spices

were in Doyle's signature dish
last night.

Now, the reason the spice rack
wasn't in alphabetical order

was because the herbs
have been organised

according to their medicinal families.

Mind, body, soul.

But these three were
out of place in the spice rack

directly after the murder,
the morning we came to clear up.

Which means that Bryce
was using those spices

in his new dish
the night he was murdered.

- Right.
- So they're on the bench.

Whoever it was comes in,
tries to clean up after the murder,

puts them back into the spice
rack, albeit in the wrong order.

- Right.
- But here's the good thing.

In relative terms.

These three spices were the only
ones used in the dish last night.

So that wasn't
Doyle's new signature dish?

It was the one Bryce was working
on when he was murdered.

- Yes!
- So Doyle stole it.

So he killed Bryce and pretended
that dish was his.

- I think he did.
- Then you cracked the code.

I didn't! I didn't crack the code.

I will crack the code. You ring Nic.

Hi. You've called Matilda.

I can't take your call right now,

so please leave a message.

Hi. Hi. It's me again.

I hope you're alright. I'll keep trying.

And I'm...

That's it! Ah, yeah!

Alright, alright. OK. OK. OK.
Grab this, alright?

We know, do we not, that
these three spices were used

in the last recipe in the cookbook.

So all I have to do
is look at the ingredients

and see which ones
have the same number of letters.

Perfectly simple, isn't it? We've got...

Fennel. Fennel, fennel...

'Fennel' has got six letters.

Ahh! Here we are, here we are.

OK, tymmyj, tymmyj. T-Y-M-M-Y-J.

The double 'M' must be a double 'N'.

Same number of letters. That's 'fennel'!

Ha-ha! Ha-hey-whey! Thank you!

Your aunt usually gets
a lot more excited than this.

- I've got a lecture to go to.
- OK. No, no, no. You need to...

You need to ring
Chief Inspector Thingie,

because it may well be
that Doyle used the recipe,

but there's only one person
apart from me

who could have cracked the code,
and that's Hugo.

Hello?

- Hello?
- Hello again.

Oh!

Hi. Hi, Hugo. Um...

Thanks so much for last night.

Unless you're talking about
how clean your cutlery was,

I'm probably not
the right person to thank.

I'm actually looking for Matilda,

and her phone's switched off,

and I'm wondering if you know
how I might contact her.

Her address is in the office.

Would you like to come through?

Um, no... No, that's OK.
I can... I can just wait here.

Of course.

Right, message bank. Fizzy, it's me.

It wasn't just Doyle. It was Hugo too.

Hugo cracked the code and Doyle used it.

Took the two of them to kill
Bryce and get rid of the body.

I'm on my way.

Here it is.

- I'm sorry. You alright?
- Yeah, you gave me a fright.

Did I?

Yeah.

Yeah, she just lives around the corner.

Right.

Well, thank you.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye-bye.

'Bye.

Nic?

Hello?

It's Charlie, isn't it?

Uh... Hi. Yeah. Yes, it is.

But you can call me Charlie.

The police sweeper.

Look, I'm just, um...

I'm just wondering
whether you'd seen my wife.

You know, Nicola.

Long hair, beautiful.

She said she'd, uh, be here. That's all.

No? Oh.

Hey, uh... Hey.

Hugo, you seem... you seem like
an intelligent man.

- Do I?
- Yes.

Anyone who can draw a link
between Immanuel Kant and Gandhi

is obviously a man
of superior intellect.

And, uh, you are very familiar,
intimately, with this kitchen.

- And you knew Bryce very well.
- Mm-hm.

Do you know who killed him?

Bryce killed Bryce.

So self-dismembering suicide.

That's rare, and impossible.

There you go again -
I'm offering you something

and you run the other way.

No, no. No, not at all. No, no. I...

I mean, the reason I ask
is that, uh, the other night,

Doyle's signature dish...

was very familiar.

It... It was very familiar.

It was very much like Bryce's dish.

In fact, I'm certain it was Bryce's.

You know something, Charlie?

- I think you're right.
- Ah.

Yeah, I thought I was. I...

I thought when I tasted it,

and then I saw the spice rack.

A light went off in my head,
and I just...

You know, I thought, "Sure."

I figured that, uh...
that Doyle had killed Bryce.

See what you can do when you
put your mind to it, Charlie?

Illumination.

So is Doyle here, or is he about?

No. Hmm.

You're clever, Charlie,

but you keep missing
those small details.

Do I?

Well, that's interesting
you should say that, Hugo,

because... the other day,
you tested my...

observational skills.

Yeah, what was it you said? You said...

"Focus on nothing
and the answer is inside."

- Remember, George Orwell.
- No, no, no, but you miss...

You miss the little things

around the edges of the illumination.

Whereas I see the whole picture.

Well, perhaps not
the whole picture, Hugo.

- Peter?
- Hugo.

Hugo, take a step back.

Take a step back, Hugo.
Hands behind your head.

Take a step back.

Hugo! That's it.

That's it. Hands behind your head.

You're just a cog in the wheel, Charlie!

You got nothing on me, cop! Ya hear me?

A civilised man is a more experienced

and wiser savage, Charlie.

You hear me? You're pig food!

I'm gonna chop you up
and I'll feed you to piggies!

- Huh?
- You OK?

Yeah, no. Yeah, I am, thank you. Yep.

Thank you. Well done. It's not
a confession, but it's a start.

Yeah, so did you apprehend Doyle?

Not yet. We can't find him.

He's probably at Matilda's house.

Nicola's at Matilda's house.

Let's go.

I'm... I'm just so sorry.

And it's such a senseless crime.

I guess all you can really do
is just... just...

Just try and rebuild.

I know.

Oh.

Oh, God, I'm so sorry.

- Clumsy.
- Don't worry about it.

It's clockwise.

You know, I could
almost make sense of Doyle...

wanting to kill Bryce,

maybe even Hugo, but you?

Everything Hugo said always
made sense at the time. He...

But when he left, it was like
waking from a dream.

Waking and finding
yourself covered in blood.

Doyle?

Oh, God.

Bryce didn't want me.

And he didn't want the baby.

And I...

I wanted to hurt him, but I didn't...

I didn't kill him. I helped them clean.

- I just helped them clean.
- Nicola!

I want help.

What do you need help with, Matilda?

- Nothing.
- The police, who are outside.

- I just came from outside.
- Front way.

You couldn't keep it together, could ya?

You just had to
keep your bloody mouth shut.

And now what am I supposed to do?

Oh, God.

Doyle! Put the knife down!

Put the knife down.
Put the knife down now.

Back it up. Back up.

"Ariel Cormac, proprietor and
wife of the late Bryce Cormac,

"said she fully intends
to open another restaurant

"despite the tragic events

"that led to the closure of Razorback."

Oh, that poor thing.
She's literally lost everything.

Darling.

Darling, darling, darling.

Happy anniversary.

Oh, Charlie.

- Oh, I love it.
- I made it.

I wanted to make it life-sized,

but I couldn't get council approval.

But it's all about the tin. It's tin.

- Is it waterproof?
- Don't know.

Oh, we've got to test it.

I'll run a bath.

Yes. OK.

That's a good idea.

A woman of science, your aunty.

Mmm.

I should probably help her
'cause it's dangerous.

- Yep.
- OK.

OK.