All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] The.Doctor.Blake.Mysteries.S05E01.A.Lethal.Combination.1080p.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor

Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the weigh-in

for tomorrow night's
battle in Ballarat!

The fight of the year,
ladies and gentlemen,

between the former light
heavyweight champion

of Australia, the ten-year
veteran, the bad boy,

the mad boy, Ballarat's
own Mad Mickey Harris!

Yeah, Mickey, yeah, baby.

Versus the ex-junior
welterweight state champion,

the challenger, the King of
Collingwood, Raging Ray Davis.

Mad Mickey to weigh in first.

Mickey Ellis, 13 stone 5.

Raging Ray
to weigh in now.

Ray Davis, 12 stone 4.

And where's the rest of you?

Enough to knock
you off, eh, punchy?

Buy your tickets,
ladies and gentlemen.

Tomorrow night at the
Grand, don't miss out.

How about a pose for
the cameras, eh, boys?

Give 'em a pose.

Hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

It's all right.

It's all right.

Ah, Flanagan, you
little leprechaun, eh?

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Enough.

Tomorrow night,
you're a dead man.

Your kind are not
supposed to be up here, Lou.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on, baby.

Hit him.

They're certainly
not holding back, eh?

Go on!

Get-- get off me!

You're bleeding.

Sit.

Sit!

You're doing well, eh?

You've got to hit him.

Still no sign of Flanagan?

You just keep jabbing
that eye, all right?

Keep jabbing that eye.

Hold it!

Stay on him, OK?

You stay on him, and
you stay focused.

I can't tell Ray.

I still find it hard
to watch him fight.

I can understand that.

If I didn't know Bernie
was looking out for him,

I'd be a wreck.

Remember what we
talked about, son.

You can do it!

Fight.

I think he's had enough.

We should call it, eh?

Move your feet!

Gus, we need to stop this.

Guard up.

Guard up.

Something's wrong.

Stop the fight.

Stop the bloody fight!

Give me some room, Gus.

Hey, it's all right, son.

It's gonna be OK.

Let's get these off.

Ray, you all right?

What do you think?

I am sorry.

Sure as hell didn't
see that coming.

Now the police will
want to speak with you,

but you just tell
them the truth.

Just not you.

No.

No, no, someone else.

Charlie.

Yeah, yeah.

I'll check in later, all right?

Thanks, Charlie.

Ah, Bill, Charlie.

Tell me, how's your brother?

Uh, he's pretty
shaken up, Doc.

To be expected.

So who's in charge?

Frank still in Melbourne?

Not due back till tomorrow.

Right.

Get your
hands off me, Gus.

Bastard.

Why won't you talk about it?

You cheated.

And you-- you murdered him.

That's enough.

Nobody cheated.

Where's your cornerman, huh?

Why has he run away?

Why?

Because he is hiding,
like a little mouse.

Charlie, take him outside.

He was fighting
up a weight class.

A younger boxer, though.

Are you all right?

Alice, are these all
the personal items?

That's all that came with
him, nothing too unusual.

There's some powder
on the trousers.

Looks like chalk.

Or talcum powder, perhaps.

I'll have it tested.

Very good.

Dear, oh, dear, I wonder
if anyone has told her.

She wasn't
there to cheer him on.

Maybe she doesn't like boxing.

Two men punching
each other senseless

doesn't appeal to me, either.

Alice, do you
know, I'm finally

getting used to your haircut?

And I have to say, it's
really rather nice.

More practical,
plus, I'm attempting

to do more things that
scare me, embracing change.

Haircuts scare you?

Hair dressers, all that
unsolicited touching.

Right.

Male, late 20s, athletic,
obviously, laceration

above the left eye.

Old wound, opened
up during the bout.

Bruising to the face and
torso consistent with the fight,

and this laceration
on the right hand.

Ah, well, boxers can get
abrasions under their gloves.

But-- but this looks--

bear with me.

Yes, teeth marks.

A bite?

Well, not teeth into skin,
rather skin into teeth.

Without his gloves on?

Nothing to do with
what went on here yesterday.

I don't want
anybody stitched up.

Ah, Charlie.

Hey.

What are you doing here?

Oh, Mum said you were here.

I just wanted to make
sure Ray was all right.

We thought we might have
left some gear behind here,

but looks like we took it
back to the hotel after all.

Oh, well, I was
just checking in.

Ray's just gone down to the
lake to have a bit of a run,

you know, clear his head.

Uh, why don't you and
I grab a quick bite?

I've got the car.

No, I'm-- I'm
about to go on duty.

We'll drop you off at the
police station, anyway, hmm?

So, like, a beer later, or--

I don't drink
when I'm training.

It would be good to
talk, Ray, catch up.

I'm all caught up.

Thanks, anyway.

Everything all right here?

Yes, Officer.

Plaque jaune.

Indicative of bruising in
the brain over the long term.

Fascinating.

And look here, bleeding
between the dura and the brain,

acute subdural hematoma.

Usually a result
of blunt force.

Gosh, he certainly took a
hiding in those latter stages.

But most of the
damage was sustained

after he lost motor control,
once his defences were down.

Two causes of death--

Mickey suffered
both cardiac failure

and a subdural hematoma.

I suspect he sustained
the brain injury just

after he had the heart attack.

Well, so-- so he didn't
die from Ray's punch?

Charlie, I can't rule it
out conclusively just yet.

Dr. Harvey needs to
complete her tests.

I need to examine
Mickey's medical records.

Doc, if he had
a heart problem,

then surely everyone
would have known about it.

Not necessarily,
also there are

abrasions on
Mickey's knuckles, I

believe from hitting someone
prior to the actual bout.

We all saw what happened.

Let's close this down.

For Ray's sake, let's
just put an end to it.

Sarge.

What's he done?

No, he's come in to--

I brought myself in.

I thought the police might be
interested in some evidence.

Evidence?

Evidence of what?

I found them behind the Grand.

Plaster wraps.

You put plaster of
Paris on the bandages.

The sweat makes it set hard.

Gives a stronger punch.

Why didn't you show
me these before?

You're the brother of
the bloke who wore them.

Wouldn't want them to
magically disappear.

Why bring them in now?

Because I don't want
to get stitched up.

There's witnesses here.

You used to be Mickey
Ellis's couch, didn't you?

Maybe you're trying
to fit up the other guy.

Do what you want with them.

I've done my bit.

If these are Ray's, then he'll
definitely be up for charges.

Well, hang on a minute.

If it was, in fact, Ray's
punch that killed Mickey--

OK, I'll talk to Ray.

You find the cornerman.

What's his name?

Uh--

Flanagan.

Yes.

Dr. Spencer can help
you, not that Mickey

went there too often.

I'll call him.

Gus, I also wanted
to ask you about--

Move.

I also wanted to ask
you about teeth marks

we found on Mickey's hand.

Now you saw them, too.

Before the fight.

Inside.

Before the-- so he
had another fight.

Did you ask him about it?

I asked but, he
does not answer.

Your feet, use your feet.

Do you have any idea where
he was before the match?

Well, he was
supposed to be resting.

That was the rules, but you
know Mickey and the rules.

They're not the best of friends.

Your feet, move your feet.

Gus, tell me.

Had he been experiencing
headaches or blackouts?

What about his behaviour?

Was he more erratic, more--

more volatile of late?

Well, he was always that way,
always making enemies, always

leaving a mess for me to fix.

He was a mad dog,
but a good boxer.

Now move.

Lead it, good.

Even-- even the best
fighters can only take so much

punishment, right?

Well, he wanted to keep going.

He had to.

He was going to get married.

Into him!

And it was the only way
he could make money, yes?

Boxing is one of the few jobs
where mad dogs are appreciated.

Go inside.

Oh, look who's here.

Good day, son.

Um, Bernie, I
need a quick chat.

Oh, sure.

Uh, pull up a chair.

Well, it's police business.

Oh, right, uh, why don't
I just fix up the bill

and, uh, be back in a sec?

You haven't seen Sean
Flanagan, I suppose?

Bernie has his faults,
Charlie, but he's a good man.

Dad charged him for--

for fraud, wasn't it?

People change.

He cares about us, and you.

No offence, Mum, but
he doesn't know me.

Righty-o, uh,
won't be long, love.

Yeah, won't be long.

I've been trying to cheer
your mum up, but it's hard,

I mean, she's really
worried about all this.

You haven't seen Sean
Flanagan this morning, have you?

No, no, hasn't surfaced,
but he'll show up.

Yeah, yeah.

Bernie, I need to ask about Ray.

Yeah.

Yeah, of course.

I'll tell you what, though.

That kid is good.

I mean, I reckon he'd go
all the way to the top.

Oh, yeah?

By cheating?

The plaster wraps, I take
it they were your idea?

Yes, bruising
evident on both hands

and grazes on the knuckles,
wouldn't have bled too much.

Still, enough to stain these.

Ray and I found them
when we took his gloves off

after the fight.

Oh, after?

Yeah, after, neither of
us knew anything beforehand.

Oh, yeah.

Do you think I'm stupid?

Oh, come on, son.

Don't call me son.

Now you're telling
me you had no idea?

I didn't put them on myself.

I mean, you can't really.

So who did?

It was Flanagan.

I thought he wasn't there.

He wasn't there ringside, no,
but he was in the change room

before the fight.

It must have been obvious to
you what Flanagan was up to.

It's obvious when
the plaster sets.

Before that, it's just powder.

So you genuinely believed--
you genuinely believed--

it was talcum powder?

I didn't have a reason not to.

So Flanagan was
there to do the wraps.

Well, just that, I mean,
we're pushing towards the ring.

And I turn around, and
there he was, gone.

Didn't you find that odd?

Well, of course, I did,
but there was a fight on.

I could hardly go
looking for him.

And when I found the
plaster, I figured he'd just

shot through because of that.

So where is he?

I don't know.

Ray.

Hey.

How'd it go?

It was a bloody nightmare.

Yeah, look.

I'm sorry I couldn't
be in there with you.

You're family, so--

Is that right?

Listen.

We need to talk.

I'm worried about you, with
everything that's happened.

I've done my
interview, Sergeant.

Nothing else to say.

Hey, would you stop acting
like a child for just one

minute?

You don't get to talk
to me like that anymore.

Mickey's medical records.

Hopefully, they'll tell us
more than the preliminary blood

tests.

They're telling me he
was fit, fit as a fiddle.

You didn't find anything?

No infections, no problems
with the kidneys, thyroid,

nothing.

So a perfectly
healthy, young man

suffers a loss of motor
control and dies suddenly

of heart failure.

With no other indications.

Poison.

Given the lack of
any other symptoms,

it's the most probable
cause of his heart attack.

So you're not certain?

No, not yet, but
I really don't think

Ray's punch killed Mickey.

So what do we do now?

Well--

That's not something you
want to ask out loud too often,

there, Sergeant.

Bloody hell, Matthew Lawson,
what are you doing here?

Boss, good to see you.

Well, you might change
your mind soon enough.

Uh, sir?

Frank Carlyle
won't be coming back.

I've been brought
in to take over.

So Melbourne's filled me
in on this Mickey Ellis.

What's the latest?

Uh, well, he was poisoned, but
we don't know how or what with.

What we do know is this.

He fought hard for eight rounds.

He died in the ninth.

Now I suspect the poison was
administered in the break.

Of course, I need
to test everything.

Plenty of people
with opportunity.

Afraid so.

Uh, I'm sorry, Charlie.

You might want to
give that a miss.

"Ray Davis
kills another man,

but today is walking
free, possibly

because Ray is the brother
of Sergeant Charlie Davis.

Raised in the Collingwood
slums, their father, Norm Davis,

was killed in the line of duty."

Oh, Rose.

Um, Matthew, where's
your ma-- ah, here.

Charlie, may I?

Ah, yes, now look.

Look at his hand--

no teeth marks.

He got them after the weigh in.

Well, Flanagan had a
hell of a temper on him.

My word, poisoning
someone, now gives you

a hell of a reason to
want to disappear, eh?

Right, well,
let's get cracking.

Step up the search
for this Flanagan.

Davis, you go with the doctor.

So Frank Carlyle?

Oh, he's in a
world of trouble.

And you're?

Ah, perfectly fine.

Mr. Flanagan.

Yeah, open it.

Someone left in a hurry.

Don't step in it.

We'll get a sample.

Right,
Charlie, here we are.

Only just been
cleaned, by the looks.

Must be bins somewhere, Charlie.

Yeah.

Yeah, I'll head out back.

Good man.

Do we know if Mr.
Flanagan has a car?

A yellow Holden van.

Call it in.

You certainly are a fight fan.

It's not on till tomorrow night.

I'm surprised it's
happening at all.

Well, the coach
has a bit of a shark.

Ah, Bernie.

I meant Mickey's
coach, Gus Jansons.

He coaches King
Connolly as well.

They're just rumours.

Mind you, there are
rumours about Bernie, too.

Ah, rumours--
speaking of which,

I saw this morning's front page.

So did Charlie, just by the way.

It was lovely seeing
Jane the other night.

She seems very happy.

Does she?

That's good.

Rose, since you're
here, I'm trying

to remember exactly who
was where during the fight.

Now, of course, I was here.

You were here with
me during the break.

I was moving around
everywhere, so--

Of course.

It's gone
to the tip, Doc.

I'll send-- I'll send
someone down there.

It would help if we had an
idea of what we're looking for,

Yes.

Yes, very good, Charlie.

Um, listen.

Fight night, you were with
your mum and Jane, yes?

Yeah, over there.

Right, directly
behind Ray's corner.

Who else was with him, um?

Bernie.

Yeah, it was just
Ray and Bernie.

Right.

What now?

And we've been told
Flanagan was out the back,

nowhere near the ring.

Rose, did you see anyone else?

No, just Ray and Bernie.

All right, over
here, of course,

uh, Mickey, Gus, uh, they're
cornerman, um, Lou Dixon.

Yeah.

Yeah, it was just--

just them in the
blue corner, Doc.

We should probably
head to work now--

No, actually, you're wrong.

Mickey's fiance
was there as well.

She was?

Yes, the brunette, she came
to the ropes at every break.

Brunette, not a blonde?

So you went to
all of Mickey's fights?

Yes, when he'd let me.

Did you always sit
so close to his corner?

You had a front-row
seat the other night.

I was his fiance.

Why wouldn't I?

Close to his
bottles and towels.

Did you help out
during the fight?

I picked up the
pieces afterwards.

So no?

No.

What about before the fight?

Is he allowed to be here?

Just answer the
question, Ms. Corelli.

Did you see your fiance
before the fight?

I never saw him
before a fight.

Mickey had to rest.

No temptation.

It was the coach's rule.

So what did Mickey
think about that?

Mickey loved me.

Once we were
married, he was going

to retire and settle down here.

Had you set a date?

He put it off,
always another fight.

Anyone could see Mickey
was getting worse.

His mind, you know,
it was time to--

but he had other
people in his ear.

Who?

Ms. Corelli, I know
this is difficult,

but we found this
in Mickey's wallet.

Do you know her?

But you knew there was someone?

No.

She knew about
the blonde woman.

Yeah.

Oi, stop the car.

Reverse up.

Not far from Tracey's.

Yeah, but, uh, not far from
the train station, either.

Bill.

What is it?

I'm guessing it's
plaster of Paris.

I have other fighters
depending on me.

When I start this business,
it was from nothing.

If these fights stop, I go back
to nothing, back to the sheep.

Back to the sheep?

It's something I say,
OK, a fighter's motivation.

My family have a farm back
home-- sheep, sheep, sheep.

I see.

So boxing changed your life,
perhaps even saved you?

Thank God, though it
does not save everyone.

Look.

This is all I have
here from the fight.

There may be more things
down in the lockers.

All right.

Uh, one more question,
Gus, if I may--

you said Mickey put
people off-side.

Anyone recently?

There was that Irishman,
Flanagan, probably others.

He was a very difficult man,
but a good fighter, unlike some.

Don't!

Lou!

What are you doing,
sneaking around here?

What are you doing?

Do you live here?

I don't have to
tell you anything.

You're worried
about Bernie and Ray.

The police didn't tell
them you found the wraps.

No, they figured it out.

Even if they didn't, Gus would
have made sure they found out.

And why would he do that?

I wanted them suspended.

Gus wanted a new fight.

They decided to bury it.

They told me to shut it.

I'm going to find
out who killed Mickey.

I assure you.

Now can you show me his locker?

Come on.

You used to coach
Mickey, didn't you?

Yes.

It must have
been disappointing

when he dropped you.

Not enough to kill the
bloke after five years.

I told the coppers all this.

You also told the police
you didn't like Mickey.

So why be his cornerman?

To see if I could talk
some sense into old Mickey

to get him to get out
before it was too late.

And did you?

I never saw the
old Mickey again.

Oh, that's got
some bite to it.

Hmm.

What is all of this?

Mickey's boxing gear.

Ah.

I thought you might be
pulling the gloves on again.

Ah, very funny.

No, it all needs to be tested.

I, um, I've told the
boys about the engagement.

Ah, how did they take it?

Oh, Christopher is thrilled.

And Jack?

Jack will get used to it.

I, uh, I sent letters to
Mei Lin and Lee this morning.

Well, not quite so secret now.

Come on, then.

Just give me a
minute, Ned, would you?

What were you thinking?

Killer punch?

I wrote the story,
Charlie, not the headline.

Well, should I thank
you for that, then, hmm?

For calling my brother a killer?

Or telling everyone
we grew up in a slum,

or how my father died?

I understand your sensitivity.

I may have got carried
away with the slum,

but nothing that I
wrote was untrue.

But does that
make it right, Rose?

I told you these things
in confidence, as a friend

or whatever we are--

were.

Charlie, we both agreed
that we didn't want anything.

I'm not talking
about that, Rose.

I'm talking about
common consideration.

Making Ray's life public
makes my life public.

I was simply doing my job.

I didn't mean to hurt you.

But you did.

And by the way, the
autopsy results,

it proved a punch
didn't kill Mickey.

My brother isn't a killer.

I'm glad Ray's been cleared.

I can only report
what people tell me.

I thought you'd understand.

It's work.

It's not personal.

I don't know, Rose.

It felt pretty personal to me.

Come in, love.

Wait here, Ned.

Hey, uh, any news of Flan?

Uh, still looking.

You here as family
or as a copper?

Ray, put a lid on it.

The autopsy showed that
Mickey didn't die from a punch.

That's, uh-- thanks
for telling us, mate.

Well, so, um, what-- what
was it then, his heart or?

He was poisoned, murder.

So what are you here for?

I have to collect
your gear for testing.

He didn't do
anything, Charlie.

I don't have a choice.

Ray, I'm trying to clear--

Take it.

So a yellow reaction
indicates an alkaloid?

Precisely, mind you, not
all alkaloids are poisonous.

And not all
poisons are alkaloids.

That's right.

Clear as clear can be.

Doc?

Yes, Charlie, come on in.

My brother's kit.

Thank you.

I'm so sorry, Charlie.

This must be terribly
difficult for you.

You're managing so
incredibly well.

Well, I don't really have
much of a choice, do I?

Charlie.

We won't need to test this.

Why don't you hold onto it?

Yeah.

Yeah, thanks.

We bumped into Rose
today, Charlie and I.

There seemed to be some
tension in the air.

You saw the paper?

Yes.

She inquired about you.

Mind you, I have to say, I think
she was really asking about us.

We might as well take
an add out in the Courier.

And at some point,
we might have to.

For now, let's just
enjoy it, just--

just us.

Oh, dear.

What are you doing?

Running.

I need my kit back
before the fight.

Why has he got you
fighting again so soon?

It's dangerous, right?

You know what you're
getting yourself into?

Of course, I know.

I'm not a fool.

Neither is Bernie.

So you do fight after fight,
take beating after beating.

You'll end up as mad as Mickey.

We know what we're doing.

Believe it or not, we
can manage without you.

We've done it for long enough.

Oh, would you stop
acting like a baby

and just tell me
what your problem is?

For starts, Mum's
getting married,

and she wants your approval.

Well, I'd love
to see Mum happy,

but it's Bernie bloody Thompson.

Seeing how Bernie's my
coach, I really don't care.

He's a crook, Ray.

He's using you for
all he can get.

And once you're no
good to him, he'll

dump you like the rest of them.

You don't know him!

You don't know a thing
about him, or us.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I know he knew
about the plaster wraps.

As if Flanagan would have done
them without Bernie's say so.

Yeah, thought so.

You think you're so smart.

You think you know everything.

Flanagan wasn't even there.

What, you knew
about them all along?

Of course, I knew, Charlie.

Grow up.

Dad would be turning
in his grave right--

Dad was a boxer,
and he'd understand.

He'd never cheat.

He never would have
run away like you did.

I left to earn money
to send back to you.

Guilt money, you ran
away like a coward.

You ran off.

So you lose the right
to tell us what to do.

Why can't you let
us get on with it?

Why can't we move on?

We want that.

I want it!

Charlie.

Charlie, I've
been waiting for you.

Good run?

Charlie, I need to talk to you.

You found something?

Yes, on one of
Ray's boxing gloves.

Poison.

I am so sorry.

His boxing glove?

That wouldn't even
work, would it?

I wish that were true.

Charlie, if you coat
something in poison,

in this case, a boxing
glove, and you pound it

into an open wound, the poison
could enter the blood stream.

I'm gonna have to tell Mum.

Doesn't mean it
was Ray's idea,

and there are still so
many unanswered questions--

Flanagan's whereabouts,
for one thing.

Flanagan wasn't there.

Ray just told me.

Who wrapped his hands?

Bernie, Ray knew all about it.

They lied to us.

I see.

So if Flanagan wasn't there--

Yeah, then-- then my
brother is the killer.

Dr. Harvey's trying
to identify the poison

as we speak.

It's a bit of a risky
MO, though, isn't it?

Oh, very,
but whoever applied

it knew the skin above
Mickey's eye was weak

and that it would split
again as soon as he fought.

Now with the wound open,
they could force the poison

into his system.

Bang.

But now we know
that Flanagan wasn't there.

Any update on that front?

A bloke fitting
his description

bought a train ticket to
Melbourne, nothing definite.

And we sent Dr. Harvey
the samples from the hotel

room and the van.

If he has a van,
why not drive?

Well, he may still
be hiding here.

But we don't know where.

And if Ray couldn't have
applied the poison himself,

that leaves us with
Bernie Thompson.

So bring him in.

Yes, boss.

I told you.

I haven't seen Flanagan.

Since when exactly?

Since before the fight in the
change room, when he wrapped

Ray's hands.

The thing is,
Bernie, Ray told us

that Flanagan
wasn't there before,

during, or after the fight.

Lying to the police is a very
serious manner, Mr. Thompson.

But then you'd know all
about that, wouldn't you?

That was a long time ago.

I didn't mean to lie to you.

Just to Charlie.

I'm marrying his mother,
and he doesn't seem too keen

on that, or me.

So it would just make it worse.

And that matters to you?

Yes, it matters because I
love Shirley, and the boys.

I love Ray like a son.

You know, I can
reconsider the charges.

I need some answers.

Who wrapped Ray's fists?

I did.

And you put the gloves on?

Yes.

Did you put the
poison on the glove?

What?

We found poison on his gloves.

Bernie, it's how it
got into his system.

That was the plan, wasn't it?

Open up the eye, apply the
poison during the break,

and pound the cut.

I don't know
anything about that.

You got Ray to fight
up a weight class.

It's a great way to launch a
career, but also a huge gamble.

You couldn't afford to lose.

You had to win.

All right, yes, we had to win.

That's why I
plastered Ray's fists.

But that's it.

I wouldn't know how
to poison anybody.

Aconitine?

According to
toxicology, derived

from the aconitine plant.

Used in trace amounts
as an analgesic liniment.

Even diluted, you'd
need to avoid abrasions.

Well, the dosage
Mickey received

was far more powerful
than any liniment.

I also tested the white
powder from his trousers.

It's not chalk.

It's calcium
sulphate dehydrate--

gypsum.

Ah, which is much the
same as plaster of Paris,

used, of course, in Ray's wraps.

Almost the same,
plaster of Paris

is dehydrated gypsum calcium
sulphate hemihydrate.

Both substances were found
in Mr. Flanagan's belongings.

Both?

The bag of plaster
of Paris from the van

contained just
that, but the powder

from the floor of his
hotel room is raw gypsum.

I understand why he'd
have plaster, but gypsum?

And why would that be on
Mickey's clothes as well?

Anyhow, the priority
right now is the poison.

Jean, I need your
gardening expertise.

Gardening?

I've identified the poison.

Aconitine.

Monk's hood, or
some people call

it devil's helmet or wolfsbane.

It's a pretty flower,
lovely blue colour.

My father used to use
it to poison foxes.

So you've seen it here?

Yes, it's quite common.

I thought it might be
some rare, exotic species.

No, the police haven't
connected the poison to anyone?

They're focused
on Bernie and Ray.

We have one man on the
run, another man murdered.

Evidently, they argued.

And do you know what?

I can't see how Flanagan
could have tainted

the gloves if he wasn't there.

So did this Flanagan and
Mickey have any contact after

the weigh-in?

Mickey had a fight.

Now who?

Where?

The only clue we have is
some gypsum on his clothes.

Gypsum?

Now I've checked.

There are no gypsum
mines close by.

Farmers use it, of
course, but short

of checking every
farm in the district--

Have you checked
McRae's Fertilisers?

Been a while since this
place was up and running, Doc.

Indeed.

Charlie, Bill, take
a look at this.

Someone has driven
right up to this point,

only recently, I'd say.

Why would you want
to steal gypsum?

That's a good question, Bill.

Why, indeed?

I don't think they
took something.

I think they left something.

Oh, bloody hell--

Mr. Flanagan.

Bruising on the
abdomen and chest.

I suspect we'll
find broken ribs.

There's possible
internal bleeding.

He may have a ruptured spleen.

The jaw is broken,
possible skull fractures.

What an awful way to die.

Goodness me.

Mickey beat Sean
Flanagan to death.

We know he was
erratic, but this--

this was frenzied, cruel.

He was a killer.

If Mickey killed Flanagan,
who would want to take revenge?

It still points
to Bernie and Ray.

Mind you, we're not sure
they knew Flanagan was dead.

We're not sure they
didn't, and they had motive.

True, but the
others did, too--

Tracey Corelli, Lou.

And all of them
were near the ring.

That fight starts in
two hours, our best shot

before they all disappear.

All right, who knew
Mickey killed Sean Flanagan?

Well, Mickey knew, but
he didn't poison himself.

No, but it could be the key.

If a man does something
so wrong, so terrible,

who does he tell?

Who would you tell?

Bugger off!

Ms. Corelli, I'm Dr.
Lucien Blake, police surgeon.

The police have already been
here, along with everyone else.

Yes, I know.

Poking around, I'm sick of it.

Of course, you've had a
dreadful time, I suspect

even before Mickey died, yes?

I stopped being sad.

I stopped crying.

I'm back to being angry now.

Thank you.

But not because Mickey
was having an affair.

I was relieved, really.

I thought she might want
to take him off my hands.

But Mickey wanted to
have his cake and eat it.

I see.

Ms. Corelli, Tracey, we
know he was a violent man.

It must have been
very difficult.

By the end, I hated him,
but I didn't do anything.

Tell me.

Did something happen
before the fight?

Did Mickey confide in you
about something, something

he'd done, something--

Why does everyone think
that I saw Mickey then--

police, Gus, Lou, everyone?

Gus and Lou?

They both came in
here, looking for him.

He even stood in the garden,
looked in the window,

trying to find him.

He?

Listen, son.

The only one who can make
this decision is you.

I'm not pushing anything.

I just know you can do it, hmm?

What's going on?

I've told him
if he's not ready,

we'll have to call it off.

But we do have a plan.

I'll give you boys
a minute, all right?

You all right?

Look.

I've got to tell you something.

You're dropping your shoulder
too early on your cross.

And how would you know that?

Dad did the same,
never stopped going on about it.

Here, let me.

If you want to box, I'll
be there for you, mate.

Whatever happens.

Watch the body, Ray.

Watch the body.

Get onto him.

Stand right.

That's it.

Come on.

OK.

Oh, shit.

Yo.

Fight.

That's it.

That's it.

You got it.

Yeah, then watch
your body, Ray

One, two, three, four, five.

Yes?

Gus, um, the officials
asked me to, uh,

give your man a quick check up.

Yeah, yes, of course, Doctor.

What a fight, eh?

You never can predict it.

All right, Mr. Connolly,
would you just look up for me

and back down?

Amazing, isn't it?

I mean, one would
think the King here,

being heavier and
taller, would win.

But, no, it went the other
way, just side to side for me.

That's the beauty
of boxing, Doctor.

Ah, indeed, things are never
quite what they appear to be,

uh, like the way
Mickey was poisoned.

Mr. Connolly, if you'll
just follow my finger,

just with your eyes, yes?

Good.

Ah, Lou, glad you could be here.

Why am I here?

Well, I was just explaining
to Gus how Mickey was poisoned.

Good man.

You see, we only found poison
on Ray's boxing gloves.

So, of course, I assumed
it went from glove to cut.

But, in fact, it
went the other way.

The poison was in the Vaseline.

He put the Vaseline on Mickey.

Yes.

Yes, he did.

Considerate of him not
to make you do it, Lou.

That's crazy.

You gave me the jar you
said you used on Mickey.

No blood, no
mess, doesn't look

like it was used in a fight.

I think you substituted
this one for the poisoned jar.

That's ridiculous.

Why would I kill Mickey?

Why, indeed?

Because you knew.

You knew he killed
Sean Flanagan.

He asked you to help
him dispose of the body

at the old fertiliser depot.

I've never been
to such a place.

But you have.

Your overcoat had gypsum on it.

You murdered him.

Charlie,
take him outside.

I saw it around the pocket
after the fight that night.

And it's tricky,
very tricky, trying

to remove all traces of powder.

It gets into places you
just might not check.

Tests will prove
that gypsum and blood.

You and Mickey went to
the depot to bury the body.

You got gypsum on your clothes.

Then you went to
Flanagan's room.

We found
gypsum on the floor.

I'm guessing you took
a suitcase and his van

to make it look
like he'd run off.

You were fixing Mickey's mess,
just like you'd always done.

Only this time, this
time, you'd gone too far.

Now you were an
accessory to murder,

and he was never going
to let you forget it.

He'd drag you down.

You'd lose everything.

So early the next morning,
you drove the van to Tracey's.

I saw you.

I was looking for Mickey.

I saw you in the
garden, picking flowers.

What?

She's crazy.

What flowers?

Wolfsbane.

I suspect you recognised it
from the old family farm,

from when you used to
extract poison and lay baits

for the wolves.

After all, you had
to protect the flock.

Mickey was a mad dog.

A mad dog, you put down.

In the bags from the
tip, just like you thought.

Well done, Bill.

How are you holding up?

It's going to get very, very
tedious if you keep asking me

that the whole time I'm here.

And how long might that be?

As long as it takes, it seems.

The higher ups are sick of
all the musical chairs here,

and I offer
stability, apparently.

Stability?

How ironic.

Frank really messed things up
here, but the debts he had here

were nothing compared to what
he racked up in Melbourne.

Well, I'll tell you this.

We're very glad
to have you back.

Well, it will give
me a chance to train up

someone new in the ranks to
take over when I've had enough.

Who's the lucky man?

Well, Bill is an
obvious contender.

Ah, sorry to intrude.

We've rebagged all the
rubbish from the tip, boss.

Will we need anything else?

No, I don't think so.

Good job, Davis.

You've done yourself proud this
week, which is why, as of now,

you are acting senior sergeant.

Congratulations.

I don't know what to say.

Well, you can say goodnight.

Head home.

Yes, sir.

We live in interesting
times, Lucien.

We do, indeed.

Here to you, you old bugger.

Dad would have wanted
you to have that.

Matthew, Jean
and I have some news.

It's about bloody time.

I thought you'd never
get round to asking her.

I'll, uh, try and get
my stuff together,

and I'll buy you a drink.