Original subtitles

I think it's Trent Latham.

Five years ago, Deadloch's Mayor, Rod Dixon,

washed up dead on the same beach as Trent Latham.

His tongue was also missing.

Gavin Latham, very similar to the brother.

The killer is still out there.

We've recruited an interstate detective to lead the case.

I am your partner.

I don't need a new partner.

Oi! Who's this?

Sam! It's Sam O'Dwyer.

Sam O'Dwyer is not here. He shot through on Victoria years ago.

- We're just making some enquiries... - We think Sam's back.

- No! - What? Really?

Yeah, nah, we reckon he's involved in these murders that have been going on.

Oi! The Cuntess.

Well, that got you choking on your Pissfiddich, didn't it?

That's Sam O'Dwyer's boat.

Hey! Hey!

Agh!

Shit!

Oh, fucking camera won't focus!

Take five, everyone!

Oh, thank God.

Ah! There's a rock up my bum!

Yeah, so Dulcie's been up all night, dragging in the burning boat.

Does she think it's connected to the murders?

Ah, Aleyna thinks it was a Norwegian funeral pyre.

Performers got their dates wrong.

Poor Aleyna. The whole Feastival could be ruined because of these men.

It's like they did it on purpose.

The Norwegians?

No, no, the Lathams! Such shits to Aleyna.

Someone's watching us.

Oh, my God, is that Jimmy Cook?

Is he wanking again?

Stay in your positions, please!

- This is a safe space, Jimmy! - Nah...

Jimmy!

This is art!

Oi!

OK, M, Deadloch Pademelons. Let's talk players.

So far, the team is me, you,

I reckon I could bully Adele into joining.

What?

What if the league doesn't let you put in a side again?

M, the only person who blocked the Deadloch girls' team last time

was Trent Latham,

and he's gone, RIP.

So no excuses, yeah?

Tam, I've gotta get top grades this year

to even be eligible for most uni scholarships.

Plus Tom wants me to direct a production of Hamilton.

I'm going to be too busy.

And also... I can't stress this enough...

I hate football!

So, what, you're just gonna abandon the team?

There is no team!

Yet. There is no team yet.

Shh.

There's someone here.

I'm just gonna jump right out of here. Yeah.

Just fuckin'... fuckin' leap like a fuckin'...

Oh, fuck!

Oh, fuck you, tank.

Hello?

Oh!

Oh, fuck. Finally!

I was shouting out to the fuckin' treetops.

Oh, yeah.

I wasn't sure how long I'd be down here so I started a piss corner.

Well, that just sounds like a horrible start to the morning.

Well, I'm glad you're OK. Hey, I've really...

Yeah, they have. They've taken Jimmy to the station.

No, love, I haven't eaten, but I'm OK.

I just don't really have much of an appetite.

OK, yeah, sure, bring me a bagel.

OK, well I love you so much.

Lady Grey, the queen of teas.

Oh, gosh, look at that. It looks like a fatberg.

- Any word from the detective? - No, her phone's still off.

Look, the shack is around that bend.

Break in, shake her awake. Tell her to get her backside down here.

Probably just knock on the door.

No, OK, let's break and enter.

- I can't. I can't do that. - Really?

- Alright. - Collins!

See you've met my new friend.

What's happened to them, James? Are they mummified?

Cute. Mummified. No, uh, it's been saponified.

Oh, what does that mean, James...

Yeah, so saponification is where

bacteria creates a waxy cast of fatty tissues

and it preserves bodies beautifully.

This body could be 50 years old. It could be 100 years old.

It's wearing a bomber jacket, James,

so I don't think it's 100 years old.

How's this happened?

Well, saponification needs a moist environment to occur.

So in this case I'd say... it's a lake.

Great. Great. Thanks for that insight, James.

Yeah, probably got wedged into the mud down there

and then dislodged by activity.

What activity?

James, what activity?

I don't know, a... big fish or something.

- Well, how long's it been on the bank? - I couldn't tell you.

Well, when can you tell me, James, because it's...

You know it's actually very unusual to see saponification in cold water.

Can't think of a single other case in Tasmania.

We need to get a dental ID in train.

Is there any sign of strangulation?

Ah, I'm not sure. I haven't gotten to that yet.

Can you check inside the mouth?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

You don't handle a saponified body, Collins, OK?

- Oh... - You have to scan it.

It's too fragile.

It'll crumble like feta.

Yeah, I'm not gonna touch it, James, because I'm not a toddler...

Hey, man!

Yeah, what's up?

You heard the news about my saponified?

James?

- James! - Yeah, hang... Hang on, man.

I need to see the lapel of the jacket.

Ugh...

Hey, man, yeah, I'll call you back, alright?

OK, hang on.

Excuse me, please.

Oi, Collins!

Dulce, I found her!

Survived.

Dulce! Just there.

Where have you been? I have been calling you all night.

I was bloody chasing our prime suspect

through that fuckin' haunted forest is where I was!

What?

Yeah, and I fell into a bush pit.

I lost him, I lost my phone, lost one of my bloody reefs.

Sorry, sorry, you were chasing who?

Sam O'Dwyer. Yeah.

He showed up the shack last night. He must be hiding out over there.

Look, I haven't got time for whatever's going on around here.

What is going on around here?

What's that?

I think it's Sam O'Dwyer.

Nah.

That looks nothing like Sam O'Dwyer.

This looks like Tutankhamun's toe.

His name's on its jacket.

That's just... material. It's immaterial material.

It just... It seems extremely odd to me

that as soon as we home in on Sam O'Dwyer as a suspect,

a body with his name on its jacket

turns up looking like a masticated cheese stick.

Look, it probably just bobbed up because of a super-moon.

Those things can pull out your period like a magnet.

Imagine what it could do to lake water.

I just think that we need to consider the very real possibility

that this body is connected to the other three.

Mate, mate, you need to stop trying to put shit in my column, OK?

I say what goes in my column,

and because you are working for me, for my investigation,

I say what goes in your column too, which is the same as my column,

but, you know, lesbian, with fuckin' shit hair, OK?

What if the tongue's cut out?

And what if his arse is filled with fairy floss?

You are over-simplifying what is happening here in Deadloch.

And you are over-complicating it.

I am not staying here through winter

to fuckin' figure skate around whatever crackpot theory you've hatched.

I've got people waiting for me in Darwin. I'm King Shit up there. I'm fucking off.

OK, so what's the plan, Detective, huh? What now?

Sam is out here somewhere. We just need to find his boat.

- We've found his boat. - Well, great!

Well, let's get off the fuckin' bonny, bonny banks of Loch Deadcunt

and fuckin'... raid it!

We can't. Someone set it on fire.

Constable Matsuda's at the wharf assessing what's left.

Abby. Abby. With the bob.

Yeah, yeah, we're good.

OK, well great. That's perfect, yeah.

Sam is panicking, he knows we're closing in,

and he's shedding evidence like a snake with a secret, yeah.

Wait.

How did he know I was onto his boat?

Which one of you cunts is leaking like an old cow's tit, eh?

Come on.

I saw you all at Trent's wake at the footy club,

sinking piss with the locals.

Was it you? You? Hey, you?

- What about you, Sveg? - Hmm?

Did you let it slip we were onto Sam's sloop?

- I have no idea what you're talking about. - Did ya?

Listen, however this leak occurred,

we all need to be careful, OK? This killer is...

Samuel O'Dwyer.

As you were.

This killer is watching us.

So if you have a conflict of interest,

recuse yourself now before you jeopardise the investigation.

Well, what about the dude this morning?

Ah nah, nah, no, no. He's not in our column.

He's rank and irrelevant.

Until the autopsy is completed,

we cannot make an informed comment

on whether the body at the lake is connected to the others.

Body at the lake's connected to the others?

I was looking for a leak in the wrong fuckin' place!

Turns out your wife, Mrs Mouth-Like-A-Cocaine-Parrot

- thinks she's on the fuckin' payroll! - Keep it down!

She is bringing me a bagel.

She's bringing you a conflict of interest.

No, I don't have a conflict of interest, Detective.

Mate, you're fucking cooked.

You cannot see the forest for the lesbians.

Oh, don't!

Either you get rid of her or I will.

Oh, did Cath bring bagels?

Sveg, how're you going on my flight back to Darwin?

Did you get me an aisle seat?

I don't want to have to climb over a FIFO worker's chubby

every time I take a piss.

Yes, you've expressed that several times.

Yeah, because I mean it.

Well, maybe your flight plans have to change.

Why?

Because the lake body has been identified.

- Is it Sam O'Dwyer? - It is.

Forensics managed to get a print off his little finger nubs, somehow.

No. No.

I was definitely chasing Sam O'Dwyer last night.

Forensics have got that wrong.

Yeah, it's probably a koala fingerprint.

They're identical to humans.

Lutruwita doesn't have any koalas.

Why? What's your fuckin' problem with koalas?

We are not done talking about this, Detective.

This is the second prime suspect in this investigation to turn up dead.

We are missing something.

We don't just need a new suspect,

we need a new outlook on the whole case.

Really hope the body at the lake

isn't connected to the two dead Lathams,

'cause when we first started talking about you working the case,

there were two victims,

but now there's three, that's different to what we talked about, isn't it?

Yeah.

Have they been ID'd yet?

Ah, no. No, not yet.

When you find out, do you want me to tell the families?

You know I'm good at it.

Any time I have to tell someone their pet needs to be put down,

I'm way more emotional than they are.

Oh, thanks so much, love.

It's just that notifying next of kin is police's job, traditionally,

and also legally.

OK.

You just need to be demonstrative, sexy.

This is not a big city.

You are not a cop to these people,

you are Dulcie, a wife, a friend.

An alto in the choir.

So hug them.

Just hug them.

Offer them comfort.

Right, yep. Yeah, comfort.

See youse later!

Sorry my mates is in high places!

You!

Nah!

Hey! Oi!

You fuckin'...

Where's the pecorino I bought last week?

- Ah, it got eaten. - Why?

Because it's cheese.

Cath, you can't just pop in for morning tea anymore.

Oh.

I'm sorry, love, it's just that the case is getting more complicated and...

there's certain things that you just can't know.

OK. If that's what you want.

I mean, you don’t have to go now, love.

You've unpacked your pumpernickel.

No, no, no. No, I'm fine.

I'll go and see Nadiyah. Both of our partners are too busy for us.

Cath I... I'm...

I'm OK.

Will you still come to Skye's Beast On The Cross dinner?

'Cause if you don't want the ticket, I'll give it to Claire.

She loves offal.

- Oi! Jimmy! - Nah!

Oh, love, I've gotta go and oversee whatever that is.

OK, remember Claire's rule.

When we have conflict, we have to kiss for six seconds.

Mmm.

One, two, three,

four, five,

five and a half...

Oi! Oi! Stop fuckin' running!

It was you I was chasing last night, wasn't it?

- I wasn't him! - Oh, bullshit!

Your face is all banged up, you're wearing the same clothes

and you stink like piss.

No, that's you that stinks like piss.

He put you up to this, didn't he?

He didn't put anything up me!

Yeah, while he was burning that dead bloke's boat.

What?

He sent his little rat friend to scare me off.

You're off your chops!

Oh, no, I am on my chops, mate.

I am riding my chops like a fuckin' brumby!

Oi, McGangus.

You're not gonna scare me off, mate.

I'm sticking to you like a pube on a soap.

Everywhere I turn, there you are, Inspectress.

Yeah.

Drinking in my footy club.

You're stalking me in the middle of the night.

Ordering me to eat your dick.

Hey, what's happening here? You a bit sweet on me, are ya?

Oh, fuck up, cunt.

OK, well you're sending off some pretty mixed messages, darlin'.

I'd be careful if I was you.

Girl on her own...

in a town like this.

Oi, Jimmy!

Stop scratching around in the dirt like a fuckin' chook, OK?

We're going to Vic's. You're buying me a café latte.

I'm watching you, McGangus!

Like a fuckin' chihuahua watching a postie's tender fuckin' Achilles!

You're a lesbian! Yeah!

- How about that? Ah-choo! - Detective!

Fuck ya!

Cath said that the shack was filled with garbage, beer cans

very niche pornography, and a lot of copper wire.

So?

So, clearly Jimmy's been squatting out there.

No, Phil is the Cuntfather of all of this.

Why are you back on Phil, huh?

It's a distraction. He has alibis.

He is not a good man, Detective.

Don't give him the opportunity to show you that personally.

Mate...

I am from Darwin, OK?

Home of 24/7 thrush and feral pigs the size of hatchbacks.

I'm not scared of fuckin' Phil McGannon from Coldfuck, Tasmania!

Right, I wanna go and see this arson job on the Loch Nessie.

How burnt can a boat be? It's in the fuckin' water.

- You can drive me. - No.

What?

I've actually got another job in my column, Detective.

I will walk...

...then.

Fuck!

Sam was in the lake?

Yeah, we think so. I'm very sorry, Vic.

- Oh, it's so dirty in there. - Mm.

I once watched a sheep float past me, all bloated.

Do you know how long his body was in the water?

Ah, maybe I should take Tom out, Skye?

No, please stay, you two.

So,

is he in one piece?

Ah, mostly.

But his epidermis is very unstable and...

crumbly.

You know what? I... I am gonna take Tom out.

Come on, sweetheart, let's grab an ice-cream.

I'm 17!

So should I make an announcement, Dulce?

- Ah, no... - Or cancel the Beast On The Cross?

No.

What am I going to do with the 450 kilo of beef in my cool room?

Make a fuckin' spag bol?

Yeah, I just think that until we know more,

just keep this to yourselves.

- Sure, mate. - Yes, of course. Yeah.

Um, Vic, you said that you thought

the Loch Nessie went missing when Sam disappeared.

Is that right?

Well, yes, I assumed he took the boat with him.

Ah, and is that what you remember, Skye?

I don't know, Dulce. I wasn't in Deadloch when Dad left.

I was living around the corner from you and Cath in Sydney,

doing a shit-ton of cocaine.

Oh, Skye!

Oh, well, I never knew, uh... anything about that, so...

- Dulce? - Mm.

Do you think someone might have stolen the boat?

Perhaps.

Could a person live on a boat like that?

Well, yes.

But, well, it was a sloop, so...

Yeah, it was a sloop.

Yeah, a sloop, so that's a...

that's an arrangement in itself, isn't it?

Mmm.

Right guys! We need to get everything tested, alright?

Let's forensic the fuck out of it, yeah?

Phil clearly burnt it

because there is something he doesn't want us to find on it, you know?

Skin, arse hair.

Smack! Spoof.

A mixture of smack and spoof: smoof. We just need to find it.

Here!

- This bit looks alright. - Ah, that's the mast, ma'am.

Oh, right, yeah. It's probably loaded with DNA, ready to be forensicked.

You. Old salty. See anything suss?

- Anyone on that boat last night? - No.

Nuh? Oh, I can see what's happening now.

Fuckin' McGangus is Mary Celesting with that ghost ship.

Motherfucker.

Ma'am!

Because I am in the middle of a murder investigation, James,

and I actually do need to know pretty urgently

if Sam O'Dwyer's tongue has been removed.

No, this is not a favour to me, James, this is your job.

- Ma'am! Ma'am! - Oh, good. Hung up on me.

I found blood on the piece of wood from the boat's bow!

- Whose blood? - Phil McGangus.

What, and that's a confirmed match?

Uh...

You know, it will be, once we swab Phil's thin little pie hole.

Where's the sticky tape in this joint? In here?

No, ma'am, that's my backpack.

Yeah, that could be anyone's blood, Detective,

and the only way that you're gonna get Phil McGangus to give you a DNA sample

is by putting him under a general anaesthetic, trust me.

Why is this tampon so long?

What have you got up there, a tunnel?

I need cardboard! Sveg! cardboard!

I think we're better off testing the blood sample

against previous offenders on file,

or we...

we DNA test local men,

compare the results to the blood on the hull.

- The bow, ma'am. - Yeah, the bow on the hull.

- It's on the hull? - It's a different thing.

Well, I don't know boats, Abby. What is a sloop?

Sorry, you wanna blood test everyone in town?

- How many men is that? - I'd... Oh...

I mean, it's very fuck