All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] The.Doctor.Blake.Mysteries.S05E04.All.She.Leaves.Behind.1080p.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor

Stop fussing.

Here she is.

"I was 12 when I realised
I had been placed in hell

for some yet to
be committed sins,

that beneath the green and
brown land of this town lay

the foetid soil beneath,
the stunted trees,

reflecting the God-forsaken
souls of the creatures who live

here--

the women, bitter with baking
and religion and motherhood;

the men, bleating
about God and commerce

and dreaming about their hands
in their mistress's stockings.

With the realisation
came freedom.

I rode to the far edge of town,
squatted beside a mullock heap,

and defecated a
curse on this place

with all the sincerity of youth.

I curse this town--

Shh.

Shush, please.

--with words and grunts."

I know what you
are, Patricia Neville,

you blood-sucking leech.

You'll get what you
deserve, you bitch.

Oh, go home, you ridiculous--

I'll bloody make sure.

Please, just ignore him.

You'll get yours, Neville.

"I realised--"

Someone get him out of here.

And just, please,
everybody just calm down.

I'll call the police.

--"even then--"

You think this is
fun, cleaning up your mess?

Mm, you don't have
anything else to do.

Besides, you'll miss it
when I'm gone, dear sister.

You're too selfish to die.

You'll hang around
my neck forever.

Ms. Neville.

Careful, careful.

Sir, put the gun down!

It's all right.

It's our neighbour, Max.

Uck, our valiant protector.

Some young louts were
throwing rocks at the house.

I was just making sure
no damage was done.

Well, you can't go around,
pointing guns at people.

Of course, apologies.

Eve, is everything all right?

What happened?

Patricia got exactly the
reaction she was hoping for,

didn't you?

Good morning.

Eve?

Eve?

Eve?

Say when.

Every time you talk
back, I add five seconds.

Oh, I could arrest
you any time, you know.

Yeah, keep talking, Matthew.

It's doing you good.

Relax.

Well done.

One more time, eh?

And put some effort into it.

I bloody well am.

Ah, there you are.

That's another five seconds.

Matthew, are you all right?

No.

Lucien, stop tormenting him.

And relax.

I suppose you're going to
make him get that as well?

Oh, there's an idea.

Boss.

They were both on the couch.

Patricia was being held
by her sister, Eve.

Yeah, just
one moment, Father.

Yeah.

What do we have?

Gas leak, the
priest found them.

One still breathing,
an Even Neville,

she's been taken to hospital.

The other sister, Patricia
Neville, not so lucky.

I was just with
them yesterday.

Are the mains off?

Of course.

What happens when
someone dies like this?

Well, the gas displaces
the oxygen in the room

and, of course, in
the victim's lungs.

And basically--
basically, they suffocate.

How long does that take?

It's not immediate, Charlie.

It-- it takes some time.

Do you think we could, um--

Yeah.

Ned.

Sergeant.

Oh, can we, um, get
some windows open?

Nailed shut.

We've opened the back door.

Charlie.

This was deliberate.

Sorry, sir.

You can't come in here.

This is a police investigation.

I know Patricia Neville.

Tell me what is going on here.

Mr. Reed.

What's happened?

There appears to
have been a gas leak.

Eve's been taken
to the hospital,

but, well, I'm afraid
Patricia has died.

I'm sorry.

Uh, I'm afraid
I'm not quite ready.

I-- I've had a busy morning.

That's perfectly all right.

Can I help you?

You can prepare
the instruments.

Right.

Suicide pact or murder?

That's the burning
question, isn't it?

You say the other
sister survived?

Yes, she's unconscious,
but thankfully alive.

I have a sister.

Really?

Where is she?

I don't know.

She annoyed a lot
of people yesterday.

The sister tried to
settle things down.

Right, did that work?

Not especially.

I'm surprised, Alice.

I wouldn't have thought her
writing was your cup of tea.

Her books make me laugh.

Really?

The truth is I read an excerpt
in "The Courier" yesterday.

Coming back home
after years away,

telling everyone what
they're doing wrong,

guaranteed to make people
resent you, trust me.

I have experience.

Yes, Lucien, you do.

Oh.

What is it?

Oh, dear, oh, dear,
radical mastectomy.

Both breasts,
performed recently, too.

And a significant amount
of axillary tissue--

pectralis muscle, lymph nodes.

Goodness me, it's brutal.

But standard,
for breast cancer.

You know, it's curious, Alice.

There are no typical indicators
of asphyxiation here.

There's large
patches of alopecia.

The cancer treatment?

I'd say so.

Sputum?

No, nothing, but
here, look at this--

faint transverse lines
across the nail beds.

Mee's lines?

She died before the
gas was turned on.

Alice is working on
identifying the poison.

Uh, Chief Superintendent.

I have an afternoon mass,
and I should sit with Eve.

Uh, be with you soon, Father.

Thank you.

Now she was treated for
cancer, breast cancer.

Unfortunately, it had
spread throughout her body.

It was terminal.

Why would someone
want to poison

a woman who was already dying?

Any possibility she
poisoned herself?

No.

No, no, no, this was not--

this was not a one-off dose.

She was poisoned over a
considerable period of time.

If she wanted to alleviate
her own suffering,

that was not the way to do it.

Right, and what
about the sister?

Can we get a statement from her?

I'm afraid she's
still unconscious.

Charlie, I'd like you to have
a run with the Neville case.

Yes, boss.

Thank you.

Every time you look at me with
that expression on your face,

I get five seconds
off my exercises.

Doc, if she was
poisoned, then this

isn't likely to
be a suicide pact.

Certainly makes it
less likely, doesn't it?

Mm.

Having said that, we don't
yet know what happened to Eve.

Now she could have
found her sister dead

and decided to go with her.

I don't know.

Or perhaps she poisoned her,
felt remorse when she finally

died, and followed suit.

They were fighting yesterday.

Physically?

No, insults, put downs,
Eve told her sister

that she was too selfish to die
and would hang around her neck

forever.

Goodness me.

Maybe Eve was tired
of caring for Patricia.

She was obviously very sick.

And not just from the cancer.

Mm.

We need to check everything
in that house, Charlie, see

if we can find out how the
poison was administered.

Ah.

Rose, do you mind?

Is it true?

I'll go talk to Father Emery.

Hello, Rose.

Murder or suicide?

I thought the gas
had been turned off?

We can't comment yet.

Maybe leave this one
for a while, Rose.

It's-- it's delicate.

Patricia Neville
is famous, Charlie.

Everyone is going to want
to know what happened,

the-- the city newspapers,
even international.

Yeah, I get it.

I get it.

Are you looking at the man who
interrupted the book signing?

Uh, yes, of course, we are.

But right now, we're following
up a little closer to home.

The sister?

Well, if the sister
turned the gas on,

is she going to be charged
with attempted suicide?

That's what the law says.

Did they take their
own lives, Doctor?

I'm afraid I can't
answer that just yet.

Tell me about Patricia.

Patricia was challenging.

What about Eve?

Eve has been dealt a
very harsh hand in life.

Yes, of course,
her sister's cancer.

And their mother died
of the same disease.

Eve nursed her
through the illness

while Patricia was overseas.

Then when Patricia returned,
Eve nursed her, too.

Goodness me, she sounds like
a most extraordinary woman.

Yes, I would have
described her as devout.

You would have?

Doc.

Ms. Neville, I'm
afraid it's my sad duty

to inform you that your
sister has passed away.

I know.

The cause of death was poison.

No, she had cancer.

I'm afraid that's
not what killed her.

Ms. Neville, I'm
Dr. Lucien Blake.

I am truly sorry for your loss.

Are you able to tell
us what happened?

The gas pipes in your home,
they've been tampered with.

Do you know anything about that?

How would you describe your
relationship with your sister?

If we--

It's over.

Leave me alone.

Amen.

Amen.

Charlie, all of that will
need to be tested as well.

Looks like it hasn't
been touched in decades.

Look, Bill.

Patricia was drinking
the other night, a lot.

And her editor turned
up here with what

was obviously a bottle, so we
need to be thorough with this.

Yeah, well, I've checked
the house from top to bottom.

Do you realise I've been called
out to this place before,

domestics between the
sisters and harassment from

an ex-employee?

Do we have a name?

Yeah, Karl Gorman,
he'd make some noise,

and then he'd bugger
off before we got here.

He's the one from
the book signing.

I haven't been able
to track him down.

Well, I can find his details
when we're finished here.

He'll come round.

Fox bait, you reckon this
is what we're looking for?

Ah, sodium fluoroacetate,
could be, Bill.

Could be.

Don't have toxicology yet.

Doc?

Mm?

Look at
this, jemmy marks.

Looks like someone
tried to break in.

They've had a real
go, by the looks.

Mm, but they didn't
manage to get inside.

See the lock?

They bent it up, but
they didn't break it.

Ah.

Perhaps that's why all
the windows were nailed shut.

Yes.

Doc, what do
you think this is?

Any idea when she will
be allowed to see visitors?

I'm afraid not for a
little while, mister, um--

Porter, Max Porter.

Mr. Porter, obviously, you're
a friend of the Neville's.

Known them most of my life.

Ah, then this must have
come as an awful shock.

Yes.

Mr. Porter, you said
yesterday that you

had to chase people away.

Did you recognise any of them?

Kids, mostly, I--

I didn't get a good look.

Tell me.

Does the name Karl
Gorman ring any bells?

He is a menace.

I've had to call the
police a number of times.

But not just because of
Mr. Gorman, is that right?

They would fight,
Eve and Patricia.

Sometimes, it got very heated.

And when you say fight--

Did Eve ever get physically
violent towards Patricia?

Sometimes, it was
the other way around.

You've got to understand.

Patricia was
unbelievably difficult,

especially when she was drunk.

And Eve?

Eve never touched
the stuff, no.

Look, I'm sure it wasn't bad.

It was just loud.

I was worried for her.

The woman is a
saint, but I suppose

even saints have their limits.

Complex
relationships, Charlie.

Yes, it's peculiar.

Found those entries
on Karl Gorman.

Ah, yes?

No charges
recorded against him,

but several mentions over
the last six months--

bloke with a grudge.

Mm.

Constable.

Karl Gorman, find him
and bring him in, please.

Thanks, Bill.

What have you got?

Well, we have reports of
Eve Neville being physically

violent with her sister.

And vice versa,
it must be said.

Has she been
formally interviewed?

No, she's not in a
fit state just yet.

Once she's been given the
all clear, I'll interview her.

Right, I'm heading
back to the library.

Pick up the glass
and bottle Patricia

used during the reading.

There's nothing
wrong with sitting

over his shoulder, Davis.

Yes, boss.

Good morning.

Oh, Doctor.

Andrea, how is your
mother's arthritis?

Ah, much better, thank you.

Excellent, good to hear.

This is Senior Sergeant Davis.

We met yesterday.

Um, I was wondering, would you
by any chance have the bottle

and the glass Patricia was
drinking from at the reading?

Oh, the glass would
have been washed,

but the bottle is out the back.

I can get that for you.

Wonderful, thank you so much.

And would you mind
terribly if I borrowed

this for the investigation?

You'll have to ask Mr. Reed.

He's come to collect them.

I don't think he'll mind.

I suspect they're not
going to be very popular.

Quite the opposite,
the bookshop

has sold out, apparently.

Is that right?

Yes, everyone loves
you when you're dead.

Oh, sorry.

I shouldn't have said that.

Mr. Reed, may
we have a moment?

Your relationship with
Patricia, what was she like?

Patricia, she
could be challenging.

Challenging how?

She was an artist.

You just had to accept that
everything was about Patricia--

your time, your energy,
the food on your plate.

As long as you accepted that,
things were mostly fine.

She seemed to
get under people's skin.

Did she get under yours?

Yeah, sometimes yes.

You laughed when you
found out she was dead.

And then I went back
to the hotel, and I wept.

Yes, grief can
hit in unexpected ways.

I was her editor, and
it was gruelling work.

But it was also a privilege.

Are you a writer
yourself, Mr. Reed?

I had hopes, yes.

And what happened
to those hopes?

I found a way
to live with them.

By editing other
people's work, tell me.

Did it bother you when
others got all the attention?

Ah, Andrea, the bottle.

Uh, no, I didn't find it.

I'm not sure where it is.

Right, Mr. Reed, do you
have any idea what might

have happened to that bottle?

Excuse me.

Sorry to interrupt.

There's a phone
call for you, sir.

Oh, I meant the sergeant.

Just put it down.

It's Karl Gorman.

He's gone mad,
chopping things up.

You ruined my
life, you bastard!

Do something.

He's lost the plot.

Mr. Gorman, whatever
is bothering you,

this is not the way to fix it.

This has got nothing
to do with you.

For Christ's sake, stop him.

Mr. Gorman, I need
you to put the chainsaw down,

and we can talk about this.

What about I put
it through his head,

and then we talk about it?

Now get back.

Talk.

Mr. Gorman, I'm
Dr. Lucien Blake.

Now I know you don't want
things to get any worse.

Why don't you put that down?

We can have a good,
old chat, yes?

Is this a trick?

No.

No, it's whiskey.

I kept you on as a
favour to Mr. Neville,

and this is how you repay me?

All right?

He sacked me last week.

I put years into that
place, and he sacked me.

And I'm guessing Mr.
Neville certainly wouldn't

have treated you that way.

He was a good bloke,
a really good bloke.

But then he sold the business.

No, the sisters did.

Mr. Neville said he'd
make me a partner.

He said I was like
the son he never had.

They just laughed at me.

You have quite a record
of harassing the Nevilles.

Why am I here?

You're here, Karl,
because you threatened

Mr. McKay with bodily harm.

Guilty then.

But why am I really here?

Have you been anywhere
near the Neville house

in the last few weeks?

Any chance of that drink now?

Blake.

Did you kill Patricia Neville?

Doc.

I'm glad she's dead,
but I didn't kill her.

What the
hell were you doing?

What?

In there.

He asked for a drink.

I gave him one.

You gave him alcohol
during an official interview.

If he's been drinking, you can
hold him a little bit longer.

Never do that again while
I'm in charge of an interview.

Charlie.

No, never, am I being
clear enough for you?

Sometimes, it's
worth thinking--

Uh, Sarge.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

Thallium?

Yes.

From the fox bait?

No, it's an ingredient
of rat poison.

Which I suppose
everyone has access to.

Do we know how it
was administered?

Not yet, there's
a lot still to be tested.

That explains the hair
loss, not the cancer treatment,

after all.

Is that a symptom?

Yes, hair loss would
have started soon

after the first exposure.

She would
have had worsening

peripheral neuropathy.

Indeed.

Um, nerve irritations in the
hands and feet, I've heard

it described as feeling as if
your extremities are on fire,

but worse.

Mood swings, susceptibility
to loud or sudden noises,

increasing shortness of breath.

Then cardiorespiratory
arrest and death.

Oh, no wonder she was angry.

Uh, Doc, I followed
up with the manager.

Gorman's the office dogsbody.

He does a bit of everything.

And?

They had a rat problem lately.

Gorman was in charge
of the poisons.

Really?

Good thing I gave
him that whiskey.

Don't you think?

Put some more leaves
in the pot, Charlie?

So you're letting the
doctor drive things?

Well, don't you?

Well, it depends if he's
taking me where I need to go.

He doesn't mean
to undermine you,

even though it seems that way.

Yeah.

He likes to think he's the
smartest man in the room,

and God knows he is
most of the time.

But you don't have to keep up.

You just have to manage him.

White and two, thanks.

No police escort?

No.

No, I'm here in a
medical capacity.

How are you feeling?

I wish I was dead.

You?

Patricia was already
gone when you, um,

tampered with the gas pipes.

You thought it was the cancer.

Of course, I did.

What else would I assume?

Doctors don't really tell
you the grubby details.

Better we don't know
the fate that awaits us.

You've had experience.

In that and
everything else, it

wasn't so different to what
my mother went through,

and what I will go
through, presumably.

It's our gift from
God, it seems.

I am sorry.

Eve, tell me.

Who would have wanted
to kill your sister?

Who wouldn't?

She was a monster.

She refused to come back
while Mother was dying.

Dad fell to pieces.

Patricia left it all
to me to deal with.

She only came back
when she was sick.

I see.

And what can you tell
me about Angus Reed?

Pathetic, Patricia
made him, and he knew it.

She was threatening to sack him.

Right, Eve, I don't want--

Don't.

My family's gone.

All I have ahead of
me is declining health

and a miserable death, so don't.

Do you believe in hell, Doctor?

No.

I do.

Father.

Doctor.

Walk with me?

Yes.

You've seen Eve Neville.

I have, yes.

She's not a well woman.

The gas leak.

I think we both know what
really happened, Father.

She's worried about
going to hell.

We all are, Doctor.

You're not surprised.

So they'll be charging her
with attempted suicide then.

Oh, I think that would
be cruel, don't you?

And what about the
church, Father?

Will you be turning
the other cheek?

The church doesn't
work that way.

You don't think she's
suffered enough already?

What I think doesn't matter.

Suicide is a mortal sin.

But attempted suicide, surely
she can ask for forgiveness,

repent her sins.

Which she won't do,
and without repentance,

there's nothing to
be done for her.

Perhaps forgiveness
could provide some comfort

to a frightened woman.

Not at the
expense of her soul.

No, of course, we
wouldn't want to risk that.

Do you know, recently I was
reading Pope Pius's address

to the Anaesthetists.

If a doctor's intent is
to ease suffering only,

and the patient sadly passes as
a result, then there is no sin.

Did Eve try to make
his sister comfortable?

Is that what you're saying?

No, I'm not.

Then I'm not
sure I understand.

No, I'm not sure that you do.

Perhaps we should be arguing
the definition of comfortable.

Is there something
else that you

wanted to talk about, Lucien?

With respect, Father, I
doubt there would be any point.

Good day to you.

Good day.

Technically, we can
hold you for 24 hours

over the attack on McKay.

But if I wanted to, I
could increase the charges

to include attempted murder.

That would buy us more time.

You had access to poison.

You have a grudge
against the family.

And quite frankly,
you're a mess, Karl.

Who wouldn't suspect you of
killing Patricia Neville?

Which is why I'm not convinced.

You lot seem to have a lot
of scotch just lying around.

It belongs to a friend.

Take it.

You'll be doing me a favour.

The study window of
the Neville house

shows signs of an
attempted break in.

Was that you?

If I wanted to break in,
I'd have smashed the window.

You seem to have a lot of bark
and not a lot of bite, Karl.

You reckon the sisters
did you wrong, hmm?

They had everything--

rich parents, big house,
didn't have to work.

They even had a bloke with
a gun to scare people away.

All right, so what did
you want from them, then?

I-- I just wanted them
to say they were sorry.

Jean?

I'm in here.

Ah, there you are.

Um, I hope you don't mind.

I've invited a few people
over this evening to--

is everything all right?

That arrived in the
post for you this morning.

Ah, you could have
opened it, you know.

Oh.

It would have been
perfectly all right.

Mei Lin sends her regards.

And?

And she won't
petition for a divorce.

No, but she agreed.

To obtain a divorce,
she would have

to accuse me of infidelity.

And--

--she'd have to give them names.

That I didn't know.

She's trying to protect you.

Well, what are we gonna do?

What?

She says that as a man,
you have more options.

Well, yes.

Yes, I do, three in fact, none
of them particularly palatable.

One, I confess to
abandoning her,

which is demonstrably untrue.

Two, I state for the record
that I am, in fact, a drunk

and that I inflicted
emotional cruelty.

Or, three, admit to
being an adulterer.

Now I wouldn't
have to name names.

But goodness me, Jean, everyone
here will say it's you.

You'd be tarred
with the same brush.

And the bloody details
would be read out in court.

Well, we-- could we--

It's all right.

We'll work it out.

We always do.

I couldn't take
communion today.

Father Emery refused you?

No, it was me,
although the congregation

made it perfectly clear what
they thought I should do.

Right.

I spoke with him.

Lucien, he's my priest.

You're not supposed to
discuss any of this with him.

Not about us, Eve
Neville, do you know her?

Yes, I know of her,
through the church.

She has breast cancer.

Poor woman, she's
all on her own.

Jean, she won't
take confession,

so the church won't help her.

Father Emery said as much.

It does seem that
some people are

dealt more than their
fair share sometimes.

I suppose that puts
things into perspective.

"I rode to the far
edge of town, squatted

beside a mullock heap, and
defecated a curse on this place

with all the
sincerity of youth."

I wouldn't have thought
you could print that.

Listen.

It gets better.

"I curse this town with
words and grunts, straining.

And I understood even
then that to curse

it would be to curse myself,
because it would always

be inside me, no matter
how I forced it out."

Charming, no one made
her come back here.

Jean.

But that's
her point, isn't it?

The town is inside her,
no matter where she goes.

You don't think there's
a place for criticism?

Yes, I do, and I believe
that's what I'm doing.

May I?

Please.

See if you recognise
these people.

"His belly goes
before him, swollen

with status and Bordeaux, his
son as vein as the father,

with the dead eyes of a shark."

Ah, Patrick Tyneman.

And Edward.

Now I'm beginning
to like this book.

Yes.

Why bother writing
anything at all

if you're just going to insult
everyone and everything?

Well, they say
write what you know.

Well, then, perhaps
she should have

stuck to writing about
London and New York then.

She's just viewing Ballarat
through a different lens.

That's all.

Yes, I would expect
you to say that.

I seem to recall you
wearing the same glasses.

Can we put you
on the police payroll?

We need someone to put him
back in his box sometimes.

Thank you very much.

Has anyone else
read it, all of it?

No, well, then, we've got some
homework to do, haven't we?

Very clandestine,
people will talk.

I wasn't meaning--

I'm only teasing.

What are you looking for?

Just something I saw earlier.

"He was a charming man, in
love with his own intelligence

and unwilling to settle
on any thought for longer

than a moment."

Sounds like the doc.

Yes, it does.

Did Lucien say he'd met her?

Uh, I don't think so.

The mousy girl
from the bookstore,

she calls her Olivia.

She's particularly
cruel about her.

What does she say?

Black-rimmed glasses,
frizzy hair, here,

"imagining literary
greatness lay before her,

it had been years since any
man had put his hands on those

poor, neglected
breasts of hers."

Is there anything
else about this Olivia?

Ah, are you still
cranky about that book?

I was only half
joking, you know.

You should go to bed.

Soon.

What's that?

Uh, that, well, um,
that is my affidavit.

I was hoping Mei Lin might
come up with a solution.

It seems I'm going to
have to find one myself.

Oh, no, listen.

I can't ask you to do that.

Well, you didn't ask me to.

Calling yourself a drunk,
this is your reputation.

And what about yours?

I won't have people drag your
good name through the mud.

I simply won't have it.

They already do.

This is your livelihood.

Promise me we'll
talk about this.

There has to be another way.

Perspective, hmm?

Whatever they say about me,
it's not the end of the world.

Let's look at this together
in the light of day, please.

All right.

I'm going to bed.

Don't stay up too long.

Eve?

Yes.

I'm Jean Beazley,
from the church.

I know who you are.

I just wanted--

I thought you might
like a visitor.

Thank you.

She was an awful person in
many ways, but I loved her--

her mind, her tenacity.

I'm afraid I judged
her on her work.

She loved it here, really.

Read to the end.

You'll understand.

Thank you for coming.

You should probably know it's
not very likely that I'll

be seeing you in church.

May I ask why?

Because I'm not
welcome, or worthy.

You know why I'm
here, what I did.

All together, I think the church
and I are no longer suited.

I drink when I shouldn't.

I lie.

I've given into temptation.

So, you see, I'm afraid
I'm just too far gone.

There's no such thing.

There is for the church.

Eve, the God I believe
in, he would never turn away

someone who needed him.

It's a nice thought.

We're taught that God looks
inside our hearts and judges

us on what he sees.

I think if he
looked inside yours,

he'd understand
the person you are.

Charlie, have we missed
anything that needs testing?

Doc?

Hmm?

There's a character
in the book,

a woman that works in the
bookshop, black-rimmed glasses,

frizzy hair.

Now she's identical to the
woman that works in the library.

Andrea Kreuzfeldt?

Mm.

Ah.

It's pretty harsh,
what Patricia wrote.

It seems she was
hard on everyone.

Yeah.

You never met Patricia
Neville, did you?

No.

No, though I must say, it sounds
like she was quite something.

Mm.

Doc.

Right, this is from the
bottle Charlie found today.

Yes, very high
concentrations of thallium.

Ah, so this is how
Patricia was poisoned.

Yes.

I don't believe that
Eve killed her sister.

No, no, this is
particularly brutal.

And, frankly, she
didn't want her sister

to suffer, not with all of this.

No wonder Eve's a teetotaller.

Well, she isn't.

How do you know?

She told me herself.

I never drank
before, but there's

been so much unhappiness
since Patricia came back.

I thought the way that I
was feeling was the cancer.

Of course.

Well, the good news is there's a
simple antidote, Prussian blue.

The laundry pigment?

Yes.

Every day cures, we'll
get you started on it.

The morning we found
you both, Mr. Reed

came by the house with a--
a-- a gift-wrapped bottle.

Any idea why?

He knew she liked to drink.

I thought it was his way
of keeping her in line.

Blake, if you think it's
worth following up on Reed,

then I think you should
go and have a chat.

Let me know how you go.

Right.

You don't want to be there?

No, no, I need to
follow up something

with Andrea Kreuzfeldt.

We can compare notes
later, if you'd like.

Very good.

I don't remember
inviting you to join me.

You didn't.

I like the way you defended
Ms. Neville as an artist

yesterday, very noble.

I gather you'll do well from
the increase in book sales.

It is Andrea
Kreuzfeldt, isn't it?

Yes.

Are you the same Andrea
who's published stories

in "The Courier"?

I loved "Girl in the Window."

Oh, no, no, thank you.

I was wondering if you might
have time for another chat.

Would you like a drink?

Uh, sure, thank you.

You had a very fractious
relationship, yes?

We let off steam
every now and then.

It was almost, um, an
expression of respect

that we could fight like that.

I see.

And tell me.

The gift you brought over
to Patricia's yesterday

morning, the bottle--

Yes.

What was it?

Uh, it was gin.

Oh, I found the bottle that
the doctor was looking for,

if you still want it.

It's, uh, back in the kitchen.

I couldn't carry it, hands full.

I can't believe
you read my story.

I did.

And I think it must have been
awful to read Patricia's book,

to see what she wrote about you,
the silly girl in the bookshop

with, uh, black-rimmed
glasses and frizzy hair,

who believed her literary
talents would save her.

I didn't know her.

What, at all?

No contact, ever?

She was always difficult.
But lately she was worse--

jumping at shadows, screaming
if anything was too loud,

cars, radio, the
dog across the road.

She couldn't even write anymore.

I had to sit there, listening
to her brag, drinking her gin,

when she was just a
bully, and a thief.

A thief?

A thief.

Half of her story she stole
from that woman in the library.

Did you realise that?

I wrote to her.

World famous novelist comes
to live back in her home town.

I-- I-- I thought
she could help.

Oh, no, not Patricia.

What did you want from her?

Her advice, her approval,
I sent her stories.

Stories about people
you knew in the town, hmm,

people like your
mother's doctor?

But then you read those stories
in Patricia's book, didn't you?

Who did she think she was,
that she could just take them

from me?

She had her career, and
she wanted to steal mine.

All she ever did was take,
take, take, from everyone.

Oh, God.

Mr. Reed, is there
something wrong?

I'm fine.

Really?

Yes.

Would you mind removing
your hat for me, please?

I'd rather not.

Mr. Reed, please, you
may have been poisoned.

Now I'm asking, remove your hat.

Mr. Reed, you have
thallium poisoning.

I want you to go to the
hospital and tell them

that, exactly that.

I'll give you something
to counteract the effects.

Where are you going?

You can't leave me here.

I'm afraid I have to run.

You will be perfectly
fine, I assure you.

Charlie.

Charlie?

Dr. Blake?

Andrea.

Um, is everything all right?

Yes.

Andrea and I were
just talking about how

she tried to break into
the Nevilles' house.

Weren't we?

I wanted to get
my stories back,

but I couldn't get
the window open.

And the-- the dog across
the road kept barking.

The dog.

I'll drive.

Very good.

My dog?

Yes.

She died, a month ago.

How did she die?

Picked up a bait,
horrible way to go.

Mm, especially when your
neighbour poisoned her.

Eve would never do that.

No, no, but Patricia would.

How close were you and Eve?

She was lonely, wasn't she?

Well, lucky she had you around.

You kept an eye out for her--

scaring away unwanted
visitors, keeping her company.

I did what any
decent man would do.

She talked about
sin, Mr. Porter.

When did your relationship
become physical?

Eve was a decent woman.

Patricia Neville was becoming
increasingly difficult.

Challenging is how
everyone described her.

You saw the toll it was taking
on Eve, Eve, the woman you'd

fallen in love with.

The fights, the
exhaustion, goodness me.

Eve was at her wits' end, and
quite frankly, so were you.

When Patricia
poisoned your dog,

well, that was the last straw.

You took to sharing
a drink with her.

You'd bring a
bottle over, having

mixed in a little thallium.

And, of course, you'd
protect yourself,

dosing up on Prussian Blue.

And then you'd sit
there, watching

her slowly poisoning herself.

Did you realise Eve tested
positive to the poison as well?

No.

Even doesn't touch alcohol.

Well, not when
anyone was around.

Perhaps-- perhaps committing
sin with you drove her to drink.

I'd never hurt Eve, never.

But you did.

You did.

You poisoned her.

And you took away the person
she loved most, her sister.

She was dying, anyway.

I wouldn't have
done it, but she was

dying, anyway, and causing so
much misery while she did it.

As did you, Mr. Porter.

As did you.

I knew he loved me.

He always felt more for me than
I felt for him, but he was--

Max was someone for me
to tell my troubles to.

You know, I don't
think he's a bad man.

Circumstances made us
all less than we can be.

Tell me.

Have any of the doctors
you've consulted with

told you what to expect
with your cancer?

I know what's coming.

Well, I promise you won't
have to go through it alone.

I will do everything
I can to make

things comfortable for you.

I recommend we don't charge
Eve Neville with attempted

suicide.

Even though she
committed the act?

Well, the charge
serves no purpose.

What if I disagree?

Well, that's your
prerogative, boss.

Fair enough.

Carry on.

You can't get out of
that bloody chair, can you?

What say we wait till everyone's
gone, and I'll help you up?

Eve Nevile sends
her thanks and wants

to know if you've
read to the end yet.

Yes, I have.

The girl in the bookshop,
it was Patricia.

It was rather lovely at the end.

Eve Neville, I think
she needs some help.

I'm gonna visit her once
she's out of hospital.

I think that would
be greatly appreciated.

I plan on doing my bit, too.

Lucien, I said we should
wait till the light of day,

but it's no better.

This could ruin you.

And I can't see
another way around it.

We'll find a way.

We have to keep looking.

Promise me you won't
do anything rash.

Yes, I promise.