All language subtitles for The Brokenwood Mysteries S05E03 - Tontine x264 RB58

Jesus, Lester.
What's the damn hurry, mate?

Not again, Trev.

It just encourages him.

You want to go there, do you, bro?

Come on, boy. There.

Whoo!

Oh. Hello, Madison.

Jean.

Still come to see your mum, then?

She expects it.

Oh, so many these days...

forgotten the moment they've gone.

Well, not Mum.

She'd never stand
for that sort of nonsense.

- No. She wouldn't.
- Mm.

I think she'll be happy
knowing I'm still right here...

where I belong.

Datura!

Really.

Hey. Hey.

Come on, bro. Dig it in.

Hey!

Hey!

- Animal!
- Let's go!

Game on.

Come on, lads.

You're on, Lester.

Come on, Trevor.

Not even sweating. Come on.

Come on, Trevor, you loser!

Whoo!

Lester! Lester!

Lester!

Stay back!

- Mike.
- Theoretically,

do you think it's possible

to train a bull to kill on command?

Oh, you're still banging on about that?

Well, you have to admit it's intriguing.

That Collins guy was an idiot.

I thought that was the official verdict.

Not in those exact words.

But yeah. Essentially, yes.

So?

Maybe I'm being too optimistic
about the human race,

but I find it hard to believe
that someone can be that stupid.

Yeah, well, there are
some spectacularly stupid people

- out there.
- I know.

But, in theory,
do you think it's possible

to train a bull to kill on command?

Look, Mike, I have to go.

It might be your day off,
but it's not mine,

and, actually,
I've got a death to deal with.

Should I be there?

No, no. It's a middle-aged cyclist

pushed it too hard. Heart attack.

So why are CIB involved?

The uniform branch are
stretched, so I stepped in.

The good news is,
Breen lost rock-paper-scissors,

so I sent him to inform next of kin.

Oh, so you've got time to talk
about the bull thing.

Uh

We're breaking up, Mike.

I'll talk to you later.

Oh, good Lord.

Another one?

- Yes, another one.
- Who?

Lester Nyman. Heart attack yesterday.

- Oh, dear.
- Will you come in,

or do I send this out?

Uh, no, no. I'll come in.

Good. Everything will be ready
this afternoon.

In theory, you can train any animal.

I mean, they trained orcas, right?

And that didn't turn out so well
for both man or beast.

But if you can train a big fish,
you can train a bull, right?

Orcas are mammals, not fish.

But a bull is a mammal.

- Yes.
- Here we go.

Thank you.

Got you a trim.

Look, Mike, I'd love to dwell
on your bull-as-assassin theory,

but I have a dead cyclist
to process here.

Oh, on that note, when I told Mrs. Nyman

about the death of her husband,
she was a little weird.

- Yes?
- Mrs. Tammie Nyman?

- Yes.
- Detective Constable Breen.

Um, I-I have some bad news.

Can I come in?

Uh...

Wait. Did you say "Nyman"?

Yeah.

Wife of Lester Nyman,
the dead guy on the bike.

The bull thing
happened on the Nyman farm.

I thought bull guy was Collins.

Yeah, but the witness was
a Trevor Nyman, the farmer.

Trevor Nyman, Lester Nyman's brother,

was the first man at the scene
when Lester dropped dead.

So, what are we thinking here?

A very good question, indeed.

Gina, what can I do for you?

Mike. It always makes me laugh

when you answer your phone,
"Gina, how can I do you?"

That's not actually what I say, Gina.

It's more "what can I do for you?"

Same thing.

No. What's up?

Or perhaps down.

This is a Mr. Lester Nyman.

Ah. The cyclist.

- Okay.
- Yes.

The face-first thing is unusual.

Yes.

Heart attack, wasn't it?

Yes.

I sourced his records,
and given his medical history,

a heart attack is most likely.

But if he had a heart condition,
what was he doing

riding to the top of Whakamoho Mountain?

Mm, because cycling is awesome?

- It is?
- Man. Machine.

Fresh air. Gets the blood flowing.

Feel the tingle of life
in your extremities.

You don't like cycling, Mike?

- Never been a fan, no.
- Pity.

I think Lycra brings out
the best in men.

Okay.

Uh...

if it was a heart attack,
what am I doing here?

This. You see this rash?

This reaction, it troubles me.

I hear you on that.

Not what I would expect.

- Chafing?
- No.

No signs of friction.

And chafing would be lower...

between legs.

This is a reaction to something.

- Poison?
- Call it instinct,

but something is not right about this.

I'll notify the coroner.

I was hoping you would say that.

You know,
instead of "poison" and "bull,"

you could have just written

"stupid" and "death wish," right?

Or just not written anything at all,

- because there's no evidence...
- Yet.

Yet to suggest that either of these

are anything other than what they are.

- There's a rash.
- Maybe they changed

their laundry detergent,
and he had a reaction to that.

Meanwhile...

...Manu Collins.

Is there something to suggest

there's anything out of the ordinary?

Apart from everything?

So, where's the bull now?

We put it in another paddock.

Thought it was probably best.

Are you saying Manu Collins
just ran straight at the bull?

Like I said, we were out here,
talking, and...

You've heard of the festival
of San Fermín, right?

The running of the bulls?

The Spanish celebration

of fleeing with soiled trousers? Yeah.

Well, that's what
I'm gonna do with my money.

Yeah, see,
I want to be one of those guys

who gather where the bulls are released,

and then, when they emerge
out onto the street,

run towards the bulls.

But then, at the last minute,
turn around

and then run with them.

Yeah.

Yeah, that's what I'm gonna do.

What are you doing?

I'm so totally gonna be that guy.

Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

They stress the bull out,
running at it like that.

The bull just did what bulls do
when they get stressed.

Maybe he would have made it.

But...

Ooh! Ooh! Shit!

But by the time I distracted it...

Oi! Phft! Phft!

...it was way too late.

Was Mr. Collins prone
to doing things like that?

You mean being an idiot?

Yeah, I guess.

I don't know.

I only knew him a couple of days.

That'll be Mrs. McTavish.

She works here.

She reckons once they've done
something like this, you

you don't want 'em 'round.

I see a candidate
for a Darwin Award maybe,

but not for murder.

Trevor Nyman has been a witness to

or first on the scene of two deaths

over, what, the last two months?

Bad run of luck for Trev.

Yeah, and then some.

It's not been a good year
for the Nyman clan.

Six months ago, Trevor's father,
Karl Nyman, killed himself.

Put a shotgun in his mouth
out at the farm.

Guess who found the body.

And then, two weeks ago, a Jethro Nyman

drowned while Jet-Skiing
off the coast of Riverstone.

Way off.

Any mention of Trevor
in relation to that?

Nope.

Missing for a week
before the body washed up.

Anything to suggest foul play?

Not as yet.

You know, it could just be a run
of really lousy luck

for the Nymans.

No one has that much bad luck. Come on.

Oh.

This really is a great spot, isn't it?

Yeah, it is.

Look, is there
some kind of problem here?

Not at all.

It's just a routine follow-up

about your brother Lester's death.

Oh, there was nothing I could do.

He was dead by the time I got there.

I'm sorry for your loss.

- Thank you.
- Or losses, actually.

There's been a bit of a bad
run for your family lately.

Yeah, I suppose.

Your father died a while back?

He committed suicide, yeah.

Bit of a shock, I imagine.

No, not really. He was dying anyway.

He just chose where and when.

So it wasn't a surprise?

Well, it wasn't pleasant
walking into that barn, but...

...no, it wasn't a surprise.

And, um, now your brother.

Lester knew he had a dodgy ticker.

He took it as a challenge.

In what way?

He thought he could laugh
in the face of death.

Death won.

Jethro Nyman... Is he a relation?

He was. A cousin.

And Manu Collins...
also a cousin, you said.

Sort of.

Sort of?

At my father's will reading,

we learned that he had
a whole other family.

- Over in Riverstone.
- Oh.

So less of a cousin
and more of a half brother?

- Yeah.
- You learned this

- upon reading of the will?
- Yep.

Look, what the hell has this
got to do with my brother Lester

- having a heart attack?
- Oh! Just tell him.

He'll find out anyway.

This is Mrs. McTavish.
She kind of runs the house.

No "kind of" about it.

It's a will.

It's a public document.

Police want to find out,
all they have to do is look.

My father's will and the reading

was somewhat of a revelation.

Why all the chairs?

For all the people asked

to attend the will reading.

What, as witnesses?

- No.
- MRS. McTAVISH: Oh.

Bloody typical.

I have to bring in me own bloody chair.

Take a seat, Trevor.

Madison.

Come in.

There should be one more person.
Magnus Nyman.

Spoken to Dad lately?

Haven't spoken to the old bastard in...

I don't know... two years.

He didn't come to Dad's funeral either.

His own brother, and he didn't show.

Okay, well, let's proceed without him.

For those who don't know me,
I'm Madison Mathers,

a lawyer with the firm
of Emerson, Bogart & Nash.

Karl Nyman has appointed me
to be the executor

of his last will and testament.

As part of this will, he stipulated

that I assemble you all here
for the reading of said will.

Thank you all for coming.

"I, Karl Harald Nyman,

being of sound mind and body,
do hereby declare"...

You don't need to bore them
with the details, boy.

Just get to the bit about Tonto.

The tontine.

Yeah, that thing.

My father, in his will, left this farm,

the bank accounts, everything,
to 10 people

in the form of what is called a tontine.

Uh, sorry. A what?

I think we all better
have a nice cup of tea.

Hmm?

So, a tontine is named after a bloke

by the name of Lorenzo de Tonti
in the 1600s

as a kind of
insurance/investment thingy.

But the guts of it... A group of
people share something of value.

When one of them dies...

The surviving members
divvy up the share between them.

Something like that, yeah.

So, where, once, 10 people
owned the Nyman farm,

now there are...

- Seven.
- Mm.

Or six, depending on
the whereabouts of Magnus Nyman.

Okay, so, let's say there are seven.

What was once a 10% share is now a...

14.28%.

I'm quite good
at doing maths in my head.

Okay, Mr. Maths Genius, what
does the remaining person get?

- 100%?
- You are good.

But does that include spouses?

No. A share in a tontine
is a right of survivorship

to only those within the original group.

How apt.

But who are all these people?

So...

Okay, so, we've got the sons,
Lester and Trevor.

Okay. And then
there's the brother, Magnus,

and the nephews,
Jethro and Oscar. Got that.

Uh, but then there's this other family?

We learned he had kids
to this other woman

over in Riverstone when he was dying.

Wasted on pills, he decided to tell us.

First time I ever laid eyes
on them was at the funeral.

That added to the fun.

The mother of this second
family... Is she still around?

Dead. Years ago.

Like most of the women in Dad's life.

Okay, other family.

I got that.

But then, there's this half brother?

From yet another mother. Up north.

Did you meet Dion Waters
at your father's funeral, too?

Nah. He didn't crawl out of the
woodwork until the will reading.

And he's definitely your father's son?

Yeah. Got the DNA tests
and everything to prove it.

And Dion's mother?

Going back to that thing about my dad

and the women he shacked up with...

She has passed away?

And then?

Trusted family retainer.

And one gets the sense that she
wears the pants around the farm.

Not unusual to reward someone
like that in a will, I'd say.

But then, what the hell did
Reverend Greene do to earn it?

That is a good question.

Okay. I get that there's motive.

Millions of dollars' worth of motive,

if you wind up owning the farm.

And, yes, there are some dead
bodies and some missing people.

But we still don't have
any actual murders,

do we?

Or maybe we do.

Gina?

So, with Lester Nyman,
it wasn't a heart attack?

Yes, it was a heart attack. A big one.

It basically exploded.

But why his heart exploded...
It's interesting.

- Which is?
- Caffeine.

Lester Nyman had extreme levels
of caffeine in his blood.

So the guy drank too much coffee?

No. We are talking off the scale.

Also elevated levels of salbutamol.

Asthma medication.

- Lester was also asthmatic?
- Yes.

And he had no sense of taste.

Is that a medical thing?

Taste, as in taste, smell.

No bad fashion sense.

Well, you could argue that
with the Lycra.

There's nothing wrong with Lycra on men.

He gets hit on the head as a boy.

Loses the sense of smell and taste.

It happens.

How is this important?

He drank some kind of
energy drink from this bottle.

So much caffeine.

Anyone with the sense of taste,
it would be way too bitter.

Because Lester
couldn't taste anything...

He drinks, and the asthma
medicine, salbutamol,

opens up the blood vessels,
which allow the caffeine

an easy run straight to his heart.

So he did drink too much caffeine.

Way too much caffeine.

Well above anything you would expect.

Second point... He not only drank it.

Remember the rash on his bottom?

- Well, hard not to.
- An allergic reaction,

most likely to caffeine in his shorts.

- Sorry?
- His padding in his shorts

was soaked in a caffeine solution.

So he's also absorbing through the skin

and up through his bottom.

So much caffeine invading system.

Tick, tick, tick. Boom!

Heart explodes.

So this wasn't an accident?

A caffeine solution must be made
and then put in the shorts.

How can that be accident?

I think now we have a homicide.

Yeah, but how can we prove number one?

Especially since the murder
weapon has been roasted

and eaten with Yorkshire pudding.

Good point.

Sorry. That was a bad joke.

No, I know.
But it may not be number one.

We need to look into that.

- Another possibility.
- Yes?

Tammie Nyman, wife of Lester.

As I mentioned, she was odd when
I told her of Lester's death.

Are you sure you don't want me
to come in? I'm happy to stay.

No. Um...

No, I-I need to call people.

- Thank you.
- Right.

Again, our condolences.

Thanks.

Talk to her again, and we
will start talking to the rest.

Along what lines, exactly?

Oh, let's just call it
loose ends for now.

What loose ends?

Just routine. That's all.

In the case of any unexpected death,

there are always questions, I'm afraid.

- Lester's death was unexpected?
- Wasn't it?

I'd been telling him for bloody
years to ease up, but no.

Always had to keep on pushing it.

You mean with his medical history?

Yes, with his medical history.

Well, some people deal with mortality

by pretending it doesn't exist.

No, it was more than that with him.

He always had to meet it
head on, challenge it.

Survival of the fittest.

It's what his ruthless father
drilled into him.

His father, who committed suicide?

Yeah. Is that irony?

Yeah, I guess it is.

So, what are your routine questions?

Or are you already asking them?

The gear Lester was wearing...

- His MAMIL outfit?
- Sorry?

Middle-Aged Man in Lycra.

Right.

Well, there was a rash.

It might have been a reaction
to something in his shorts.

A loose end, as I say, in
determining the cause of death.

And nothing to do with me.

- I wasn't saying that it was.
- No, I mean, it was

literally nothing to do with me.

All of his cycling gear,
from his stinky clothes

to his bloody bike...
I never touched any of it.

It was his department.

Right. Okay.

Is that all your loose ends?

Not quite. There were quite high levels

of caffeine in Lester's bloodstream.

That'll be his foul-tasting drink.

You'll need to talk
to his cousin about that.

- Which cousin?
- Oscar.

Owns High Health in town.

That's where he bought it from.
It's horrendous stuff.

But, of course,
Lester had no sense of taste.

I hope that's the last
of your loose ends, Detective,

'cause I've got
other things I need to do.

Yeah, it hasn't been a stellar
few months for our family.

Starting with your uncle's suicide.

Oh, I guess.

But Karl always preached
controlling your own destiny.

And then Manu Collins.

I only met him a couple of times.

Bit of an idiot was my take.

And then your brother.

Yeah. Well, that was
his own bloody fault.

Jethro liked two things in life...

...getting pissed and
hooning 'round on his Jet Ski.

Not two things that should
go together, in my book.

And now your cousin Lester.

Yeah, Lester knew the risks.

Every time he came in here,
I'd lecture him,

and he'd just laugh it off.

Not one to listen.

So when he and Trev took off
that day, it was typical.

He never could back down
from a challenge.

You were on the ride that day?

Oh, yeah. Like every other Sunday.

You were not one of the riders

spoken to at the top of the hill.

Oh, I don't normally do that climb.

Yeah, too much like hard work.

No, I rode back to my car,
packed up, and headed home...

like usual.

Am I one of these loose ends
you're asking about?

No.

So, was there anything unusual
about the ride that day?

You mean apart from Lester dying?

Yeah, apart from that.

Actually, there was.

Yeah, before we left.

Lester and that meathead Dion,
they were going at it big-time,

and eventually that lawyer woman,

she must have told them
to pull their heads in.

And what? What are you gonna do?

- Sort him out.
- Piss off, mate.

That bloody clown
is gonna ruin everything

if we don't get together and stop him.

What exactly was it
that was gonna be ruined?

Lester's plans for the family farm.

Which were?

Parcel it up, sell it off.

And what did this Dion guy want?

No idea.

He shot past us on the road that day.

But I haven't seen him 'round since.

No great loss.

Is he one of these, uh, loose ends?

Maybe he is.

Thanks very much.

- Reverend?
- Hmm? Yes?

What?

- Detective.
- Morning.

Communing with a higher power, were we?

In a manner of speaking, I suppose.

I had a terrible night's sleep
last night.

Well, it's good to see you back.

I never really left.

But I thought,
with our dealings last time...

No, no. The church
is very accepting these days.

One might go so far
as to say progressive.

And also short-staffed.

How can I help?

Lester Nyman.

He died over the weekend.

Yes, I'm aware of that.

Madison Mathers, the lawyer
acting for the estate,

contacted me yesterday.

About the tontine?

It's, um...

It's happening, isn't it?

What is?

Someone's killing off the other members.

What makes you think that?

Now every time Ms. Mathers calls me

to sign the new distribution document...

Three times now.

...I can't help but wonder
if I'll be next.

- Hence the sleepless night?
- Nights.

To die for something you didn't
want in the first place...

It plays on the mind.

How did you become a part
of the tontine?

In the last few months of his life,

Karl Nyman started attending services.

He would sit at the back, making notes.

Then, afterwards, he would...
I don't think "interrogate me"

is too strong a term... about my sermon.

Everything you say is propaganda
for a God that doesn't exist.

I'd like to think I gave people
some semblance of hope.

And when they die, they'll go to
some magical kingdom in the sky?

Hogwash! The life you make
for yourself here on Earth

is the only one you'll ever have!

I must say, there were some days
when he almost convinced me.

So, why did he then leave you
10% of everything he owned?

I wondered that myself
until I read his letter.

What letter is this?

At the will reading,
everyone received a letter

from Karl Nyman.

And what did this letter say?

It repeated things
Karl had said to my face...

that I was a snake-oil salesman
for a false god

and he hoped
that, through the inheritance,

I would come to understand
the error of my ways.

How exactly would it do that?

At first, I thought it meant
that I would be tormented

by guilt at receiving
such an undeserved bequest.

Then people started dying...

...and I realized it was a death threat.

It was Karl Nyman
saying I would, one day,

learn there is no heaven,
there is no God.

Oh. Not that Karl Nyman was
ever going to get to meet him.

There's another place
for people like that.

Not a big fan, Mrs. Marlowe?

Oh, the whole lot of them.
They were never any good.

And the things that went on
on that farm...

Such as?

Oh, I couldn't possibly say.

These four walls?

No, I'd rather not say.

But what I will say is that they
both have a very dark streak.

Karl and Magnus?

Two peas in a rotten pod in my book.

I'd keep as far away from that
mob as possible, if I were you.

Thank you for the moral support, Jean.

According to Reverend Greene,

Karl Nyman didn't believe in God.

I'm not sure that helps anything.

Any luck with Jethro Nyman's wife?

Um, in a manner of speaking.

What?

Kristin?

What is Jools Fahey doing in there?

Well, you may ask.

- Oh. Detective Sims.
- Jools.

She's not?

She is. Or was... briefly.

- Here you go.
- Thank you.

Sorry about that.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by it all.

It's been a difficult time.

So, what are these loose ends?

Just a few questions about Jethro.

Seems a bit late.

We buried what was left of him
weeks ago.

Your marrying Jethro
is obviously a recent thing.

Three months.

After Mitch died, I swore

I wouldn't get involved with anyone.

I thought, "That's it.
I mean, that is it."

No more sadness. No more heartbreak.

But there he was in this bar...

young, handsome, passionate.

Or so I thought.

In terms of that day,

do you remember anything
out of the ordinary?

I wasn't here for most of it.

I was out of town.

- Most of it?
- I left that morning.

For some time out.

- Uh, time out from?
- Him.

And where did you go?

I was in Hamilton.

Visiting my mother.

When her last husband died...

She was in Hamilton,
visiting her mother.

Time for a chat, indeed.

I didn't kill him,
if that's what you're thinking.

Not at all.

I didn't need to.

He was doing a good job of that himself.

With the drinking.

God, worst mistake of my life.

I admit Jethro was something
of a rebound from Mitch.

Bit of a whirlwind romance.

But it turned out he only had
two passions in his life,

not three.

They being?

His wretched Jet Ski,
surpassed only by booze.

Oh, the endless drinking.

And the third should have been... you?

Yes. But two's company. Three's a crowd.

When was the last time you saw Jethro?

Breakfast that day.

He was drinking in anticipation

of his lunch meeting in Riverstone.

Meeting about what?

Some hush-hush thing
about the farm he inherited.

Not that it was hush-hush
when he had a few in him.

And this thing was?

They were planning on turning
the farm into this lodge

and golf course.

And when you say "they"...

Jethro and his cousin Lester...

the one who died this weekend.

But Jethro only inherited
1/10 of the farm.

- Not the whole thing.
- He and Lester

were working on the others
to bring them 'round

and to stick it to Karl Nyman.

That's what the meeting was about.

So this lunch in Riverstone
was with Lester?

No idea. He didn't say.

Any idea how the meeting went?

We spoke on the phone in the afternoon,

but he didn't mention it.

He was moaning about feeling ill.

I told him to go to the doctor.

But the fool took his stupid
Jet Ski out instead.

The police said
he must have run out of petrol

when he was way out at sea,

that he had the choice of waiting there

and probably dying of hypothermia

or trying to swim back
and probably drowning.

When you say Jethro and Lester

wanted to "stick it to Karl Nyman"...

Because of the letters telling
them how pathetic they were.

Sadly, as you know,
I've been here before.

I thought you'd probably want to see it.

You are very thorough, Detective.

Did Jethro explain how his inheritance

involving the farm worked?

The tontine?

Oh, yes. I knew I wasn't part of it.

I didn't want his money.

As I said, I wanted a fresh start,

but c'est la vie.

You don't want to buy a Jet Ski, do you?

The Coastguard brought it back,
and I don't want it.

Yeah. Okay.

Thank you.

Well, the rest home in Hamilton

confirms that Jools Fahey
was where she said she was.

She really needs to stop
visiting her mother.

Yes.

Uh, the coroner's report
for Jethro Nyman.

Cause of death... drowning,

although hypothermia
may have been a close second.

Um, much of this is pretty inconclusive.

Which is what you get
when you've been in the ocean

- for the best part of a week.
- But he was not a well man

at the time of his death,
if that makes sense.

Uh, he had bleeding in the stomach,

and his liver was completely shot.

Consistent with his reputation

for being an alcoholic stress merchant.

Karl Nyman. Definitely suicide?

Ah, confirmed. He had advanced melanoma.

Several operations later,
and it was a losing battle.

He called his doctor on the morning

and told him he was going to...

..."do what the bloody quacks
couldn't manage

and fix this bastard thing
once and for all."

He wrote a note cursing everything

and everyone on this wretched earth

and went out to the barn and...

And he did love a good note.

This was given to Jethro Nyman
at the will reading.

According to Reverend Greene,
everyone got one.

Well, this one says that Jethro
lived a valueless life

as a vain, arrogant wastrel.

Uncle Karl hoped that this inheritance

would teach Jethro once and for all

the value of hard work and discipline.

Does this mean I have
to go back and see Tammie Nyman?

She really doesn't like me.

Afraid so.

Any more sightings

of the missing Dion Waters
and his missing Bimmer?

So, I called his mobile number.

No reply. Left a message.

I called his home number in the city.

No reply. Left a message.

Half an hour later, I get a call
from the drug squad,

asking why I'm interested
in one Dion Waters.

Turns out he's been
on their radar for a while,

and they're very interested
in where he's been disappearing

- for the last few weeks.
- Because?

He has a degree in chemistry,

but he's chosen to use his education

to manufacture and distribute meth.

Ah.

Current score... three dead.

But one definite homicide.

Hmm.

And two missing in action.

What about Awhina Collins?

Yeah, I'm heading over
to Riverstone tomorrow

- to talk to her.
- Good.

And I want to read
as many of those letters

that we can get our hands on.

Do you think Karl Nyman is doing
this from beyond the grave?

There's a thought.

Maybe his vengeful spirit
inhabited the bull.

I heard that.

For God's sakes, what is it now?!

Just one thing, and then
I'll be out of your hair.

- For now.
- What?

Karl Nyman's will reading.

Was Lester, by any chance,
given a letter from his uncle?

Yes. Why?

Would you happen to have this letter?

Yes. Going back to the "why"...

I've left the rescue
remedy on the table.

Oh. Detective.

Oscar.

Glad to see you're doing
so well, considering.

Thank you. You're very kind.

As I was saying,

the letter would be helpful
to our investigation.

Investigation into what precisely?

All we get when we ask your senior

is that there are
suspicious circumstances.

I can't go into details as yet.

Will this bloody letter help
get my husband's body released

so we can have a funeral?

- Hopefully, yes.
- Fine.

Did you also receive a letter
at the will reading?

Everyone did.
Read mine and chucked it away.

Because?

He was a sad old man spewing his vitriol

about what a disappointing waste
of space I am

and hoping the inheritance would
finally make a man out of me.

And has it?

Are you seriously asking me
that question?

Well, I mean, the farm is quite
a valuable asset to inherit.

It must have changed your life
in some respects.

I don't want anything to do
with that cursed place.

- You think it's cursed?
- My mother died there,

and then my father was cheated
out of his share by Karl.

That place has done nothing good for me.

Here. Happy?

It's the only one I have of my father.

And it was the last time
I saw him alive.

A necessary technique
in keeping us a secret, I guess.

- Here.
- Thanks.

I see you have a science degree.

Yeah. So?

Well, you said you worked
in change management.

The degree was all about
getting the old man off my back.

Science was very much his thing.

I thought that farming was his thing.

Who says the two
can't be one and the same?

That's how he met my mother...

at a symposium on organic pesticides.

- She's a scientist, too?
- She was.

Now she's dead.

Now it's just me.

Now, if you have a point,
please get to it.

I have a flight to catch.

I won't hold you up for much longer.

No, you won't,
because there's nothing more

I can tell you about some people
I met, for the most part,

only once.

For the most part?

Yeah, the Jet Ski one.

Jethro Nyman.

Yeah. He called me.

Told me he had a scheme about the farm.

Something I'd be a fool to miss out on.

He hasn't gotten back to me.

Because he's dead.

Along with Lester and Manu and Dad.

Now, if you don't mind,
I really have to go.

Thanks.

Can I help you, Detective?

There was no one at the house.

Oh, that's the thing about farming...

There's always things to do.

Any chance of a cup of tea?

I'm sure I can manage that.

It really is a beautiful
piece of land, isn't it?

Who says prisons have to be ugly?

Is that what it is to you?

On a bad day.

And today's a bad day?

Been better.

Look, mostly what I mean is,

this place has been my whole life.

Apart from going to uni.

What did you study?

BSc in bio science. I loved it.

But then it was straight back
here to help out the old man.

So much for education, eh?

Why didn't you contest the will?

Surely you and your brother
had rights to this place

- that the others didn't.
- For starters

Lester walked away
from this farm years ago.

Broke Dad's so-called heart,

the golden boy
turning his back on destiny.

I think that's what started
this whole tontine nonsense

in the first place.

Lester didn't want to contest it?

He did. But I said no.

- Why?
- I was advised not to.

By who?

Someone who knows about that stuff.

Here's some food for you
while you're having your chat.

Thank you. While I have you both,

the letters that were distributed

at the reading of the will...

Any chance I could have a read of them?

What Karl wrote to me as he was dying

is both private and personal.

You will need a court order
and the Armed Offenders Squad

before I let anyone else read it.

- Right?
- Right.

I didn't think
it was quite that important.

Trevor?

I didn't get a letter.

I thought everyone did.

Yeah, everyone but me.

Does that seem odd to you?

No. It speaks volumes about
what my father thought of me.

How so?

After all these years
of working the farm...

every day running the place
single-bloody-handedly,

do you know what he put down
as my occupation in his will?

Unemployed.

That is precisely how much
my father rated me.

So, no, I didn't get a letter.

Thank you for seeing me.

That's quite all right, Detective.

Karl Nyman's will.

Yes. How can I help?

Why didn't the Nyman brothers
contest it?

It seems to me they would
have had a good case.

You should ask them that.

One of them's dead.

Forgive me. You should ask Trevor that.

I'm asking you, as the executor.

And as executor, I worked
on behalf of Karl Nyman.

It would be improper for me
to give any legal advice

to any of the beneficiaries.

Well, actually,
Trevor said he took advice.

Interesting. Did he say who from?

- No.
- Well, then I guess

the idea was rejected.

On what grounds, do you think?

Like I said, I wouldn't know.

I see.

Hypothetically, if he had asked you,

would you have thought
there were grounds to challenge?

Off the record?

From what I know, I would say
yes, but he didn't approach me.

- I see.
- I'm sorry.

But it seems I can't help you after all.

No, it all helps.

When Karl Nyman asked you
to be executor,

was the tontine his idea?

Oh, more or less.

I mean, he came to me with a concept

of how he wanted to share his estate.

And I recognized it in legal terms

as something resembling
the notion of a tontine.

I helped him structure it that way.

He seemed satisfied.

Something a bit different
from a usual will.

Let's just say it was more interesting

than your typical
sale and purchase agreement

on a three-bedroom brick-and-tile.

Mm. I bet.

When he set up the tontine,

it's like he knew
that the inevitable outcome

was that they would start
knocking each other off

to get to the prize.

That is so dark.

These letters, each one of them,
is a challenge.

"If you want the farm, earn it.
Do whatever it takes."

Well, that means, logically,

there could be more than one killer.

It could.

Okay, potential poisoners.

Oscar Nyman, again.

We know that he was on the bike ride,

and he's the one that sold
Lester the energy-drink stuff.

He could have switched
the drink bottles.

Oscar Nyman, who I'm pretty sure

is getting it on with Lester's wife.

Which is why he left the bike ride.

Yeah, for a little afternoon delight.

Double motive.

Also, Awhina Collins has a BSc.

As does Trevor Nyman.

As does the missing Dion Waters.

And where the hell is Magnus?

Indeed.

We could just let it all play out,

arrest the last one standing.

Okay, I meant...
That's one of those things

I meant to say in my head
and didn't mean to say out loud.

Keep up the good work, Breen.

Ah. Here for a sing-along, Detective?

Uh, perhaps later.

I need you to tell me
about the Nyman brothers.

What makes you think I know anything

about those two reprobates?

Well, you know that much
about them, for starters.

And I suspect, as always,
you know a good deal more.

Well, in the day, there was talk

about all manner of parties at the farm.

Oh, not that Rufus and I
ever went, you understand.

Of course.

The men would drink and play cards,

and the women would dance and drink.

And then, later, they would pair up.

- Pair up?
- Well, it was the '70s.

Car keys in the fruit bowl.

That sort of carry-on.

And then there was the drugs.

Really?

Karl would grow all sorts
of things around the house

and then experiment with them.

- Marijuana?
- Oh!

Child's play.

He gave my friend Tilly Mathers
datura cigarettes

to cure her asthma.

Which it did.

But she went blind for three days.

Tilly Mathers?

Related to Madison Mathers?

Mother.

Oh, she was never the same after that.

Lost her sense of humor.

Sounds like Karl was a bit
of a hippie in his day.

Oh, Karl changed when Mary died.

- And Mary was his wife?
- Yeah.

She died in childbirth.

Complications with young Trevor.

What happened between him
and his brother Magnus?

They used to run
the farm together, right?

Oh, that all fell apart with Anna.

- Anna?
- Magnus' wife.

She was drowned in a pond on the farm

during one of the parties,

leaving behind two little ones,
Oscar and Jethro.

And Karl took over the farm.

Which was odd, because
Magnus was the actual farmer.

Any idea where Magnus is now?

I heard he was killing for a living.

- Reverend Greene.
- I should specify.

- Killing, as in hunting.
- I see.

The brothers,
knowing they couldn't bear to be

in each other's presence,
settled the matter of the farm

over a game of cards.

And, presumably, Karl won.

By cheating, so I've heard.

And Magnus vowed that, one day,
the farm would be his again.

Wherever he is.

Well, he won't have
to go through me to claim it.

I've just signed the paperwork

relinquishing my share of the property.

That's quite a fortune you're
bravely running away from.

I'm relatively happy with my lot
as it is, thank you.

A bunch of reprobates, as I said.

I'll take my leave.

Well, I hope for Reverend Greene's sake

that the offender
is checking his messages.

Or, sensing the noose closing,

the reverend's trying
to throw us off the scent.

The noose is closing, is it?

Slowly.

Maybe.

Lester's funeral is set for tomorrow.

With Reverend Greene presiding,
by the way.

That could be interesting.

Everyone in the same room again.

Some idiot has just taken out
the town sign.

Any units available?

Repeating... black BMW versus road sign

- on Riverstone Road.
- Black BMW?

CIB to comms.

Do you have a rego on the Bimmer?

Affirmative. Hotel, Echo, Yankee 498.

Copy that.

I've got this.

- Detective.
- Hey, Chris.

Lights out, I'm afraid.

Oh, thanks.

Boss.

Yeah, it was Dion Waters.

Another one down, I'm afraid.

I did what I do
with anyone renting the place.

I met Mr. Waters,
gave him the usual spiel

about what to do and what not to do,

gave him the key, and let them to it.

- Them?
- Him and the lawyer from town

who arranged everything.

Madison Mathers?

Yes, that's it.

- And when was this?
- Middle of last week.

Wednesday, I think.

How long did Mr. Waters pay for?

He prepaid for a month.

That's a bit unusual, isn't it?

- For a place like this.
- He said he had work here

and didn't know how long it would take.

It's the off-season,
so any booking's a good one.

- Sure, it is.
- It's a home-and-income setup.

- All aboveboard.
- Of course.

I pay tax.

We're not interested
in your tax status, Diane.

- Not that I want to...
- Thanks for your help.

Well.

It's not your usual
holiday getaway, is it?

Look, I greet the guests.
I tidy up after them.

What they do while they're here
is nothing to do with me.

- Mm.
- I want that on the record.

- Of course.
- Is it on the record?

Very much.

Thanks, Diane. You've been a big help.

It really needs to be on the record.

We'll be in touch
if we need anything else.

That's enough meth
in there to speed up time.

He's so full of toxins.

He has to be decontaminated
before I can get stuck in.

Right.

That explains this.

A little trick
I learned working as an intern

on the outskirts of Chernobyl.

- The toxins being meth?
- And much more.

Exactly what, toxicology will confirm.

And this was strapped to his abdomen.

I'm thinking taking it out
of the bag is a bad idea.

Mm. There are so many things
in there that could kill you.

So many.

I'll take that as a yes.

Can you read this?

Something about "wasting your talent,"

uh, "living in a void
of your own making"...

...and "getting out of the void
or live there forever."

Same theme as the others.

Take what you want, earn it...

before someone else does.

Kill or be killed.

Or kill yourself in the process.

How can I help you, Detective?

The bach that
you rented for Dion Waters.

The one he turned
into some kind of drug lab.

You know about this already?

I've had the owner on the phone.

- She wasn't happy.
- I bet.

But you arranged it,
according to their records.

Well, I didn't know he was gonna
start cooking meth there, did I?

I'll take your word for it.

I was doing Trevor Nyman a favor.

I felt sorry for him.

That's very nice of you.

After the will reading,
Manu Collins and Dion Waters

decided that, seeing they
were equal owners of the farm,

that gave them the right to stay.

Manu, as we know, didn't stay long,

but Dion was showing
no signs of leaving.

He was also showing the signs
you'd expect from someone

with a serious drug problem.

So you stepped in.

Trevor was grateful,
and Dion was happy enough,

for obvious reasons.

It gave him a place
to set up his operation.

- Clearly.
- Which you paid for.

Don't mistake me for a saint, Detective.

As executor of the estate,

I'm entitled
to draw reasonable expenses.

I solved a problem.
I will be reimbursed.

Of course.

So, middle of last week,
you solved the Dion problem,

but he doesn't go quietly
into the night, does he?

Dion had some interesting ideas

about what to do with the Nyman farm.

So Lester Nyman asked for a meeting

- before his bike ride.
- Come on!

There's no way that you
or your P-junkie buddies

are gonna sort out rave up here!

And what? What are you gonna do?

- Sort him out.
- Piss off, mate.

It was not received well by Mr. Waters.

Then everyone went
their own way. End of story.

Well, for Lester and Dion, it was.

Sorry. Are we about done here?

I do have other things to attend to.

Of course.

Witnesses say Dion Waters
hit the Brokenwood sign

at an estimated 20 kilometers an hour.

Swerved off the road. Died at the wheel.

Initial autopsy reports

suggest he suffered
multiple organ failure,

including liver, kidney, spleen.

Consistent with a number of poisons.

Including ricin, which was found
in both its natural form...

The humble castor bean.

...and in a more processed form...

Basically by grinding it up.

...amongst
the many other poisonous items

- in Dion Waters' lab.
- Death cap mushrooms, datura,

- deadly nightshade, hemlock.
- Basically if it's poisonous

and it grows in New Zealand,
it was in that room.

As well as a container
of caffeine powder.

Don't you two have a funeral to attend?

Aren't you coming, too?

You take this one.

Sure. Yeah. We'll...

Are you lost, Detective?

I was hoping to have a word with Trevor.

He's at his brother's funeral,
as I'm sure you know.

Right. Is that today?

You're not there yourself.

The next funeral
I attend will be my own,

and I'm not planning on that
happening for some time to come.

I bet.

So, what happened here?

There was
a building, and it burned down.

- When was this?
- The other night.

Do you have any papers
that says you're allowed

to be standing on my land?

You think of it as your land?

I've lived here most of my life.

Yeah, my land.

And you're a member of the tontine.

20%, I believe...

- as of now.
- You know someone is killing off

the beneficiaries of the will, right?

Let them try.

- Fair enough.
- Can I escort you

back to your vehicle, Detective?

Ah. I was just checking

to see there wasn't
a round up the spout.

I'd hate to accidentally shoot
you in the back, Detective.

Not as much as I would hate to be shot.

What was that building that burned down?

Oh, been there for years and years.

A sort of workroom.

What sort of work?

It's a farm!

Farm work. Look.

I've never been what you'd might
call a big fan of the police,

so I am not doing your work for you.

What if it stops more people dying?

Given the quality of the deceased,

are you sure whoever it is
isn't doing the planet a favor?

I just don't want you
to be next, Mrs. McTavish.

I take it from that
you don't think I'm the killer.

I would like to invite
Lester's brother, Trevor,

to say a few words.

Sorry, brother.

You were wrong.

When we were kids,

Lester said to me
that he was gonna live forever.

But he thought if he believed it
enough, he could make it true.

And that was kind of how he lived...

Good of you to turn up, Dad.

I've been busy.

Jethro... He died, too.

Were you too busy for his funeral?

Did you miss me?

Your own son. And you didn't even show.

Oh, stop whining.

Now you can pork
Lester's wife whenever you want

without having to sneak around
behind his back.

- Called it.
- You old bastard!

Please!

This is a house of God!

There's one thing I don't understand.

Just the one?

Why would Karl send letters
from beyond the grave

to everyone except his son Trevor?

Who said he didn't get a letter?

He did.

Well, maybe his father
didn't need to send him one.

- Maybe he didn't.
- Or maybe I was mistaken

when I saw the lawyer
hand Trevor a letter

in the house there after the reading.

Why would he tell me he didn't get one?

Pity he isn't here to answer that.

Good funeral?

Any more bodies to add to the tally?

No, but we do have
Magnus Nyman in custody.

For what?

Yeah, piss off, you old bastard!

Oi!

It's not gonna happen, Mr. Nyman.

Is he sober enough
for me to talk to him?

Um... you should probably take
a look at his ute first.

I think the Nyman family motto
is "if it moves, kill it."

Magnus says the last time he saw
anyone was Karl's funeral.

Claims he went bush after that.
He's been there ever since.

Can anyone vouch for this?

"Drunk bastards in the occasional pubs"

were his exact words.

You all right there, Mr. Nyman?

I'm resting my eyes.

Good for you.

I'm Detective Shepherd.

Do you mind if I ask you
a few questions?

I can't guarantee the answers.

Fair enough.

You say you went bush
after your brother's funeral.

I felt the need.

You were out there a fair old time.

If you know how, the land will provide.

I'm sure.

You were a bit of a hippie
back in the day, I believe.

You confuse me with my brother.

- Do I?
- Common mistake.

He was the one
that was into all that stuff.

I just kept my head down
and got on with things.

Farming.

He was the idealist,
and I was the realist.

I've never heard
Karl described as an idealist.

The thing about ideals, Detective, is,

the longer you hold them,
the more they become twisted.

At the will reading, there were
some letters from Karl.

- Did you get one?
- He did like to inflict

his world view on others.

Apparently the lawyer's got
some stuff for me to sign,

so it's probably on her desk.

Are you familiar
with the nature of a tontine?

Yes.

And now you're thinking I'm the
one knocking off everyone else.

Is that what's happening?

I am a drunk, Detective.

I am not stupid.

Karl killed to get the farm,

so whoever wants it after him
should do the same.

Makes sense to me.

Sorry. He killed to get the farm?

He drove my wife to her death.

Kept feeding her drugs
to mess up her head.

Pushed her over the edge.

May not have been murder,
but it was near it, damn it.

That's why you walked off.

You heard he won it in a card game?

- I did.
- He was a cheating bastard.

Are we done here, Detective?

I've got a bender to get back to.

Okay, but I think we'll keep
hold of your ute for now.

Whatever you like.

The pub's within walking distance.

And once you're finished
with your bender?

There's a few people
I want to catch up with.

For old times' sake.

As requested, the phone records
for everyone in the tontine

since the will reading.

- Treat yourself.
- Ta.

- Just me.
- Jared.

Yeah, I've got this cracker
little Central Otago Pinot Noir.

Boutique winery.
They're doing crazy things

with oak barrels and kawakawa.

I'd be mad to say no.

Well, I'll do the honors, then, eh?

You do that.

You doing one of those Sudoku things?

Well, in a manner of speaking,
I guess I am.

Part of an investigation, eh?

Yes.

Yeah, that makes sense.

I've always thought you were
a cryptic crossword kind of guy.

Oof!

Mmm.

Do you know the Nyman farm?

Did someone off crazy Karl?

No. He offed himself.

But it just looked like suicide...

when, actually, it was the son
who he fell out with.

The intense one.

Yeah, what's his name? Lester.

I always thought Lester was
on the dodgy side of Dodgeville.

No, it was actual suicide,

- and Lester's dead.
- Oh.

Okay, have you talked to
his loser of a cousin, Jethro?

He would definitely fit
any murder profile.

Jethro is also dead.

Man, I can see why
you're burning the midnights.

You seem to know a lot about the Nymans.

Me? Nah.

Well, maybe there was a time
when I was young,

some people I knew... not me...

just some people I knew...

well, they would go up there
and pick magic mushrooms.

Is that crazy lady with the gun
still up there?

Mrs. McTavish?

Yes, Jared, she is.

- Not that I ever met her.
- Mm.

Jared, can I ask you a question?

Yeah. Fire away, Mike.

Where the hell have you been
for the last year?

That's a bit of a long story, that one.

Uh, don't bother.

The bull acted alone.

Death by misadventure.

It's the only explanation that fits.

- Mm.
- Did you get that stuff I asked?

Uh, yes.

Hey, had you had a few
last night when you called?

Only a couple.

Of a fine Pinot
courtesy of Jared Morehu.

Jared?

Oh, yeah? What's he been up to?

Walking. A lot.

Yeah. You remember
I was in the coma, right?

- I do.
- And then I came out

and went to live with my whanau
to recover?

- Last time I saw you.
- Yeah.

Well, they were doing my head in,

so I decided to walk
the Te Araroa Trail.

The one that runs the entire
length of the country?

Yeah, yeah. That one.

Okay. That is a lot of walking.

So, does this mean

that we're investigating
another homicide now?

No. It means we're investigating
another motive.

I thought we had plenty of motive.

Well, you can never have
too much motive.

Okay, so it's like a Pinot, then, is it?

- And?
- Yes, I drove to Riverstone

last night, and, yes,
I found the right restaurant,

and, yes, there was a staff member there

who I.D.'d both the photos.

- Both photos?
- Both photos.

Though they primarily remember him,

because he was, in their words,
"a colossal ass."

Brilliant.
Time for a wee drive, I think.

Sorry if it was a bit late
when I called last night.

Were you a bit squiffy?

- Squiffy?
- Three sheets to the wind.

You sounded very jolly.

When things fall into place,

it puts me in a good mood, that's all.

Yeah, a few wines does that to me, too.

But I have to sleep
with one eye open these days.

No surprise.

- Make the call.
- Mm-hmm.

- Detective.
- Good morning, Trevor.

- Something happened?
- Maybe.

- I need your help.
- How?

Do you mind if we walk and talk?

I always think better
when I walk and talk.

Yep.

See, the thing is, Trevor,
sometimes I'm a bit slow.

I mean, the answer can be
staring me in the face,

and I just can't see it.

That's why it took me ages
to figure this one out.

- Okay.
- It's only when I realized

that the answer was in the question

that, well,
things started to make sense.

That's when I started doing this.

The numbers 1 to 10 'round the edge...

That's you lot,
the members of the tontine.

And the numbers in the squares...

the who could possibly have killed who.

Like a Sudoku kind of thing.

Apparently, though not my thing.

Anyway, I started with the
first murder... Manu Collins.

Oh, that wasn't murder. I told you.

- He ran at the bull.
- Don't worry. I know that now.

That's why I drew a wee bull's
head in the square. See?

My first emoji.

I still think the bull's important.

I just haven't figured out how yet.

Okay, so, what's with the red line?

That's those of you still left

in nothing but numerical order.

For instance, you could be next.

Oh, I'm not saying you will be.
Just for argument's sake,

let's say you are,
so could Lester kill you?

- Well, no, he's already dead.
- Ah.

As is Jethro, Manu, and Dion.

Whereas Oscar here could kill you.

Oh, you think it might be Oscar?

Well, I'm not saying he would,
just that hecould,

according to my graph.

Okay, yeah, I get it.

- This is quite clever.
- Thanks.

But it turns out
that my little Sudoku thing here

wasn't as easy as I thought, you know,

because, with everyone being poisoned,

the time of death and the actual murder,

when the poison was administered,

are two different events.

- But Jethro drowned.
- Well, yes, he did.

Which was a stroke of luck
for the offenders.

His plight washed away
the evidence... literally.

But he was most definitely poisoned.

- As was Lester.
- Jesus.

It was Dion, then? I mean,
you found his lab, right?

We certainly did find his lab.

We did, indeed, find everything
we could possibly need

to pin the murders on
Dion Waters in the pop-up lab.

- But you know what we didn't find?
- No.

Fingerprints. On the equipment.

They were wiped clean.

Every beaker, every piece of glassware.

His fingerprints were everywhere else,

just not on the lab gear.

Yeah, well, if he was making poisons,

he would have been wearing gloves.

That would be the logical explanation.

Dion was staying here, right?

Until I asked Ms. Mathers
to find someplace else, yes.

And he was here all the time
up until then?

- He'd come and go.
- Do you know where he went,

when he was gone?

- No.
- He was up in the city

under surveillance by the drug squad.

According to their records,

he was there
the day Jethro was poisoned.

- Well, you know when that was?
- Yes.

I thought you said it was hard
to figure that stuff out.

- When someone was poisoned.
- Trevor, even though it appears

that all roads lead to Dion, they don't.

When did this happen?

Uh, three-or-so nights ago.

And what was this place?

Just a storage shed.

So, what caused the fire?

An electrical fault, I'd say.

Did you call the Fire Service?

By the time I discovered it, the
time it would have taken them

to get here, there was no point.

Ah. A fact of farming life.

Look, Detective, if all these roads

and your little graph here,
if they don't lead to Dion,

then who do they lead to?

Well, mainly, they lead to Magnus.

Yeah, yeah. I can see that.

But I think if Magnus Nyman
was killing people,

it would be a bit more... brutal.

So you are next on my list.

Well, I-I don't know what to say that.

- How about "I didn't do it"?
- Well, yeah, of course.

Or "I did do it"? Either way, Trevor,

I don't think, at heart,
you're a murderer.

I don't think you've got
the strength it takes

to take another human life.

Well, not face-to-face.

That's when I realized
that this was, well...

not exactly a waste of time, but...

it was leading me up the wrong path.

If you're not here to arrest me,
why are you here, Detective?

I want you to come down to the station,

answer a couple of questions,
get your story on record.

You don't have to do that.

You don't have to go with him.

All I want is a statement on the record.

You can sit in.

In fact, you should, as his lawyer.

I'm not his lawyer.

Well, that's not entirely true, is it?

Trevor doesn't have to say
a word to you.

But I think he wants to.
Don't you, Trevor?

- A statement. That's all?
- Just for the record.

I strongly advise against this.

Just for the record.

Did you see Jethro much
after the will reading?

Not at all.

Didn't he have plans to sell the farm?

Lester and him concocted that.

I only ever talked to Lester about it.

So, you were against these plans?

Yeah.

Must have been quite a shock...

Get to the top of the hill
and see your dead brother.

Yeah, it was.

But you were aware
he had a heart condition?

Of course. Everyone was.

Everyone told him to take it
easy, but he never did.

There was a meeting before
the ride in the café car park.

You were both there, right?

- I was.
- Yeah.

And that was to sort the Dion problem?

Yeah.

Who called the meeting?

Well, I think it was Lester.

He called you?

I guess. I can't remember.

The night before, phone records

show you called Lester,
not the other way 'round.

Tammie Nyman also confirmed you
called to set up the meeting.

Okay, it was... It was me.

I called Lester,

and Dion came up, and
I said we should have a meeting

- about it A.S.A.P.
- Hmm.

Seems fair enough.

So, who called you, Madison?

Again, phone records
show no communication

between yourself and Trevor or Lester.

But you did call Dion
on his mobile phone.

You accessed my phone records?

Yes.

You didn't need to call Trevor

because you were with Trevor that night.

Yes, I was.

So you two are in a relationship?

- Yes, we are.
- And how long

- has that been going on?
- Relatively recently.

Since after the will reading?

Yes. So? What the hell has this
got to do with anything?

Well, seeing as we have
witnesses identifying

you as the woman
Jethro Nyman was dining with

the day he started feeling ill,
I would say quite a lot.

What the hell is wrong
with my hillbilly family

that they can't see a great deal

when it slaps them in the face, huh?

Give me another drink
while you're at it.

I need a slash.

Okay, that is a completely
preposterous suggestion.

But you did meet with him?

Yes, I did meet with Jethro Nyman,

and, yes, I arranged the meeting,

because there was tontine
paperwork to be signed.

And you were with Dion Waters
the night before he died, right?

You certainly called him that day.

I'm the executor of the estate.

Of course I phone the people involved.

We have a witness that saw you
leaving the farm that evening.

- Okay.
- Okay, don't.

- Just do it!
- Consider it done.

Right, good.

- So?
- So, we have a witness

who, later that night, saw Trevor

load lab equipment into a ute.

A witness who claims they saw him.

Oh, I think you'll find
our witness is very reliable.

This, just to be clear, is
the night the shed burned down

and the night before the lab
was discovered in Dion's digs.

If Helen McTavish is your witness,

then she is certainly not reliable.

She stands to gain from the tontine.

This interview is over. Come on, Trevor.

No.

I think Trevor's got a few things

he wants to get off his chest.

Get up and walk out of here.

Trevor, they have nothing.

No.

It's over.

Don't you dare.

It's done, Madison. Can't you see that?

For God's sake, grow a spine.

They're trying to get into your
head, and you're letting them?

Why not? Everyone else is in there.

You. Him.

I just want to do
the right thing by me for once.

Detective Sims, please escort
Ms. Mathers from the room

and take her statement if she
has anything further to add.

Come with me, please.

I thought you were stronger than this.

Would you like to consult
a lawyer before we start?

Don't be ridiculous.

Trevor, if you wish
to consult with a new lawyer,

we can wait.

I just want to get it over with.

You do understand everything you
say is admissible as evidence?

I understand.

What did your letter say?

I know you got one.

What did your father say to you, Trevor?

I need you to tell me.

"There's maggots in the meat."

Where the hell did
all these people come from?

Your father has
a very peculiar sense of humor.

This is his idea of a joke?

Read this.

Then you'll understand.

- Have you read it?
- I have.

I've read them all.

Between you and me, you've been cheated.

Read. And then we'll talk.

"How angry are you, son?

Deep down, where it matters,

how angry are you?"

Stuff about the dream being buggered.

And waiting until he died,
and all of this was mine.

Or at least that was the plan.

But now that was over, because
"there's maggots in the meat."

"There's maggots in
the meat and blow flies buzzing.

Look at them, the fruit
of the family loins...

stupid, vain, arrogant, unworthy.

If they were wiped off
the face of the planet,

it'd be like skimming
pond scum off the gene pool.

You waited for death to do me in.

Now make death your friend
and work for it.

Work for what's rightfully yours."

My father had a dim view
on just about everything,

so it wasn't exactly out of character.

When did Madison get involved?

A few days later.

She came over.

You know that the other letters

were variations on a theme, right?

- Sorry?
- Well, not all of them,

but most of them
boiled down to the same thing...

If you want the whole shooting match,

you know what you have to do.

Well, should we go to the police
about this?

And say what?

I mean, it's not like anyone's died yet.

Have they?

But it was after the kid died

that the idea started to take hold.

Manu Collins.

She thought I'd somehow engineered it.

And had you?

Kill someone with a bull?

Don't be an idiot.

But that didn't matter to Madison.

To her, it just proved it could be done.

And then there were nine.

This had nothing to do with me.

Does it matter?

No one's exactly mourning his death.

Well, his sister probably is.

Not in the slightest.

You know who I actually feel sorry for

in this whole situation?

You.

This place should rightfully be yours.

Your brother walked away, so screw him.

You stayed true.

You should be rewarded.

Do you disagree with me?

Exactly.

You got anything to drink?

One thing led to another.

How did you decide on Jethro
as your first?

He was the loudest...

the most annoying, the most dangerous.

This is going to happen, Trev.

Okay? One way or another,
I will get the others on side,

so get your head out of the sand
and get on board!

What are you waiting for?!

So you decided to poison him.

She made it sound so easy.

Jethro's death is waiting to happen.

If he dropped dead one day,
no one would suspect anything

other than he drank himself
into an early grave.

And I know there are things in
your lab that won't be traced.

And I know you know what to do.

And if it's actually
slipping him the stuff

that's the problem,
you can leave that to me.

So you manufactured the poison?

- Yeah.
- In your lab

on the property,
which you later torched.

And what did you concoct for Jethro?

A powder derived
from the death cap mushroom.

It was meant to take longer
for him to die

so we could distance
ourselves from the event,

but the state of his liver
accelerated things.

And it was Madison
who administered the poison?

Yeah.

I need a slash.

It was like you said,
when she had lunch with him.

Madison Mathers doesn't stand

to benefit financially from the tontine,

it being a joint tenancy.

So?

So, why was she doing all of this?

Do you still have
absolutely nothing to say?

You know, in the other room,
Trevor is telling my colleagues

the whole story, don't you?

Trevor can tell whatever story he likes.

You dined with Jethro Nyman

- the day he was poisoned.
- Circumstantial.

Well, that's not
how Trevor describes it.

If he's guilty of something,
perhaps he's too weak to own it.

Was it love?

You're in love with Trevor,
and he made you do it?

What?

I don't believe in love.

And I don't do the bidding of others.

And then there was Lester. Why him?

Because he wouldn't leave the
idea of selling the farm alone.

He had people lined up.

He was getting the others on board.

And you didn't want to get on?

That place is my life.

Why should the one who walked
away decide what happens to it?

Of course, this time, she
couldn't do the deed, could she?

Not once we decided
on the caffeine solution.

I was the only one
that could spike his drink

while we were getting ready.

That clown is a bloody menace.

- Mm-hmm.
- You agree?

- Yep.
- Putting it in his shorts

was a bit of an overkill,
though, wasn't it?

- Excuse the pun.
- Yeah.

Well, that wasn't
quite meant to go like that.

Turns out I'm not very good
at this poisoning lark.

Well, you're the one
with him on your bloody couch.

- You need to get your...
- Shit!

Tell him to take
his stupid ideas and his drugs

and go back to where he came from.

- Got that, mate?
- Mm-hmm.

I said, "Have you got that, mate?"

What?

Sorry, mate. I was trying
to refill my drink bottle,

and I dropped it in your bag.

It went through all your stuff.

Geez, Trevor.

You egg.

Sorry.

Come on.

The wet undercarriage
isn't actually too bad.

We might be onto something here.

Come on.

While we were riding,
there was part of me

that was hoping that it wouldn't work.

Is that all you got, mate?

That he'd just push on through,
like he always did.

But that didn't happen, did it?

No.

You watched your own brother
die in front of you.

Lester!

Mike.

Then we come to Dion.

After Lester, I wanted to stop.

But Dion was proving
impossible to control.

Was it her idea to both kill
and frame Dion?

No. That was me.

I wanted it to be over.

So, what, while Madison was wining

and dining and poisoning Dion
at her place,

you were shifting the lab equipment

to the nice, secluded place
she'd found for him.

We needed to keep him out
of the bach for the whole night

so the ricin would kick in.

Ricin.

Isn't that some kind of nerve gas?

Maybe in fiction.

In life, all you need to do is
grind up some castor oil beans.

It is remarkably easy to manufacture.

You say he needed to be
kept out all night.

So I could set up the lab

and he didn't have time
to find it and destroy it.

How did Ms. Mathers
keep him out all night?

She didn't say.

So, was it an intellectual thing?

To see if you could get away with it?

- Get away with what?
- Or was it because you enjoyed

the thrill of getting away
with it last time?

What last time?

Your mother.

My mother died of a rare bone disease.

She was ill for a very long time.

I am aware of that.

I did look after her every bloody day.

Every bloody day for all of those years

until the one day
she decided to top herself.

As I told the police at the time,

I was unaware
that she'd been hoarding pills.

Mm. There was no evidence
to suggest otherwise.

Karl Nyman once poisoned
your mother with datura.

Was it revenge for that?

She was never the same after that.

But she once told me,
amidst all her suffering...

...it was the best time of her life.

Going blind for three days?

Enlightening, she said.

Am I gonna be charged
with my mother's murder now?

Well, it's more a question
of how much value

you place on a human life.

Spare me your moral judgment, please.

Did you end your mother's life?

No.

But I wish I had.

I wish I had the strength
to end her suffering.

And your own?

Perhaps.

So you acted out that
frustration with Trevor instead.

Nice try.

I mean, after all,
you talked about marriage.

Trevor told you that?

And although a tontine
is a joint tenancy,

if only one member is left...

and let's say that that's Trevor...

if you were married to him
and he should accidentally die,

then the farm has nowhere go but to you.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Like I said...

nice try.

Trevor, you will be charged in relation

to the deaths of Jethro Nyman,
Lester Nyman, and Dion Waters.

I just want it to be over.

It's only a piece of land, Trevor.

You took three lives
over a piece of land.

It's my home.

Not for much longer.

Trevor, you must have realized
that Mrs. McTavish

sees and hears everything.

And yet you carried on
as if she didn't exist.

Madison wanted to kill her.

But I said it would be too suspicious.

Helen.

With everything that's going on
with the farm and the will

and everything, I just...

Well, I wanted you
to know that you'll be okay.

I'm not next, then?

Whatever happens, there'll
always be a place for you here

for as long as you want.

I know.

I'll be just fine.

You got played, Trevor.

By your old man.

At the end of the day, you did
exactly what he told you to do.

Well, Madison Mathers
is still denying everything.

She's a lawyer.

She'll be figuring a way to leave Trevor

holding the smoking gun.

You were right about the bull.

Taking out Manu Collins lit the fuse.

Happy families, eh?

What do you reckon
will happen to the farm?

It'll find a way to survive.

Land always does.

Welcome home, my love.