Original subtitles

(1920s music)

WOMAN: Arthur!

Arthur! Come inside at once!

Can't you hear me calling?

What are you eating?

Shh, shh, shh.

You'll wake her.

Dear God!

I've found another costume,

miss,

but they'll all need a good

airing before we pack them.

Don't worry, we have a couple

of days left before the ball.

So that's a Roman warrior,

a clown,

a Little Red Riding Hood,

the wolf, an angel,

and I'll pack Cleopatra

separately

- so the frock won't crush.

- Wonderful.

There's nothing I like better

than a fancy dress ball,

although it does seem an odd

choice for an engagement party.

I am surprised

your Aunt Prudence

doesn't think it unseemly, miss.

I'm sure she does.

But my darling cousin Guy

has always found a way

to wrap the old dear

around his little pinkie.

Mr Butler,

any chance of a broken fan belt

or a flat tire today?

No chance at all, miss.

Your motor car

is running like a dream.

- (phone rings)

- I'll get it.

Hello, Miss Fisher speaking.

Aunt Prudence!

Luncheon's off?

What a shame.

Oh no!

Yes, of course.

Did you call the police?

Leave it to me.

Connect me to City South

Police Station, please.

Detective Inspector

Jack Robinson. It's urgent.

Put another pin in your hat,

Dot.

You're in for a very fast ride.

Phryne,

this is a complete disaster!

The poor, unfortunate girl.

Two days

before the engagement party.

Don't worry, Mother.

There can be no question

of the party going ahead.

Hello, Guy.

Cousin Phryne.

Excuse me, I'm a little damp.

Was supposed to be a happy

occasion when we met again.

May I present my companion,

Miss Dorothy Williams.

Mr Guy Stanley.

Miss Williams. Pleasure.

So who is she?

Marigold Brown.

She's the stablehand's daughter.

I engaged her as chambermaid.

I think we should wait

for the police to arrive.

Phryne! Don't touch her.

Pretty girl.

Inspector's coming, miss.

You made it here

in alarmingly good time.

I know a shortcut.

Where was she found?

Floating in the middle

of the swimming pool.

I walked this way

about nine o'clock for the roses

but I saw nothing suspicious

then.

Who pulled her out of the water?

- My son, Guy.

- It was after ten o'clock.

I had a mad hope

she might still be alive.

Looks like she hit her head.

Perhaps on the edge of the pool.

Such a tragic mishap.

Come, Mother.

Well, come on.

What's your theory?

Take a look around her collar.

This girl didn't drown.

She was strangled.

Murdered?!

The poor, poor girl.

JACK: When was she last seen?

Did anyone spot her

this morning?

I'll have to ask my housekeeper,

Mrs Truebody.

Phryne, would you ring the bell,

please?

I told you to stay in your room.

I want to play with Marigold.

Where is she?

She's sleeping, my darling boy.

Ah, look who's just arrived.

Cousin Phryne!

And look what I have for you.

Gobstoppers.

They're enormous!

You can't have them

unless you go back to your room.

As you see, Detective Inspector,

my son is...

Well, his faculties are limited.

We'll need to speak to

every member of the household

all the same, including Arthur.

Of course.

The girl's father.

Where can we find him?

Herbert Brown?

He lodges

behind the stable house.

Oh, where in heaven's name

is Mrs Truebody?

MAN: She was only 16.

Still a little girl.

I've done my best

since we lost her mother.

Thank God

she's not here for this.

When was the last time

you saw your daughter?

That would have been last night.

About bedtime.

Marigold likes to check on me

of an evening.

But you didn't see her

this morning?

She stays up at the servant

quarters in the main house

since they put her on as a maid.

She was coming up in the world.

I'm afraid I have to ask

where you were this morning.

Just for the record,

between nine and ten o'clock.

Where I always am,

mucking out the stables.

Can anyone confirm this for us?

Anyone here?

Yes. Mr Guy.

He came over to look

at the horses. That's right.

He asked me to saddle up

a couple of mounts for him.

Him and his lady friend.

I had breakfast

with my ravishing bride-to-be,

Isabella, in my room.

What time was that?

Early, must have been nine.

Practically the crack of dawn.

JACK:

What did you do after that?

The usual. Just came downstairs,

nabbed the newspaper,

wafted about the garden.

Anywhere near the stables?

Yes, actually.

Now you mention it,

I went to see my old horses.

What time would that have been?

I've never been a

watch-the-clock type of fellow.

JACK: Was anyone else there?

Just Herbert.

Mother inherited him

when the neighbors sold off

their nags for sports cars.

I mean...

I mean, he does know

his horseflesh, though.

You don't think he had anything

to do with his daughter's death?

We're just eliminating him

from our enquiries

as we'll be doing with the rest

of the household.

Tell me, when might

we speak with your fiancée?

Isabella. Phryne Fisher.

Ah! The cousin.

We've met, haven't we?

That dazzling party

in Charing Cross.

Guy ended up on the dining table

reciting an indecent version

of The Boy Stood

On The Burning Deck.

Ah, yes!

Darling, Phryne's just reminding

me of the night we fell in love.

(laughs)

At least she knows what

a terrible rake she's marrying.

I think we're perfectly suited.

(speaks in French)

When you're ready, Inspector

Robinson's waiting for you

- in the front parlor.

- Oh!

Should I dress, or not?

How good-looking is he?

Phryne, I'm sorry

I can't offer you tea.

I've just been told

my housekeeper left at dawn.

The police won't be happy

about that.

That's the second one

since we arrived.

What do you do to your staff,

Mrs Stanley?

Mrs Truebody just upped

and left without any reason?

Apart from your aunt telling her

the croquembouche tower

looked like

someone stuck a pin in it.

This is turning out to be

such a beastly day.

You do realize we'll have

to cancel the party, Isabella.

Absolutely.

It's so adorably Australian.

Where else but in the Antipodes

would an entire household

go into mourning

over a stablehand's daughter,

sweet as the girl was.

PHRYNE:

That shouldn't bother you.

Everybody who's worth knowing

lives in London, don't they?

True.

It was a silly idea of Guy's

foisting the engagement

on his poor mother.

It was not silly at all!

If the wedding

is to be held overseas,

it's perfectly reasonable

I should host the engagement.

Well, it's a moot point now.

Excuse me,

I have a date with a policeman.

It's probably all for the best,

Mother.

I think you should go ahead

as planned, Aunt Prudence.

I'll loan you my staff.

Would you really?

Although I'm not entirely sure

it's appropriate.

There's nothing more

you can do for Marigold

and some of your guests

have sailed from England.

What about the catering?

Would that be...

Up to scratch?

Mr Butler

is cordon bleu trained.

Oh!

We'll need waiters and footmen.

I know a couple of gentlemen

who might fit the bill

in an Antipodean kind of way.

- If that would help?

- You know, I believe it would.

Thank you.

Ah!

Hello there.

Which one of you

wants to inspect me?

No drag marks.

Not so much as a snapped twig.

Then I'd say somebody

carried her, already strangled,

and just dropped her

in the pool.

What about Herbert?

His alibi matched up

with your cousin's story.

He was saddling the horses

for a bit of a gallop

around the estate.

Isn't that what the upper class

do of a morning?

Possibly but not Guy.

He was kicked in the teeth

by a pony at the age of eight

and he's refused to mount

anything equine ever since.

Why would Herbert lie

about saddling the horses?

Why would Guy go near

the stables in the first place?

What about Isabella?

Anything worth noting?

Not apart from her outfit.

We're just about done with the

household, aren't we, Collins?

- Apart from the housekeeper?

- Yes, sir.

Mrs Truebody lived in

so there's no home address.

But I have the name of the

agency she was registered with.

Good. Let's get back to the

station. We can track it down.

What about the discrepancy

between Guy and Herbert's

evidence?

We're pursuing it.

I'd say

a poorly thought-out collusion.

Possibly. But right now, I'm

late for another appointment.

Who's your appointment with?

Barrister. Must be some kind

of court appearance.

JACK: Get moving, Collins!

I hope no ants

have followed you in.

I'm not sure what it means

but I found it under the hedge

after you rushed off

for more urgent matters.

How did you go

with your barrister?

- What?

- Hugh mentioned it in passing.

Tricky case coming up?

Erm, my most challenging yet

but not one that concerns you.

"Minor abrasion to forehead,

severe bruising to neck

and windpipe,

inflicted prior to immersion."

"Most likely cause of death

was asphyxiation

due to strangulation."

- No surprises there.

- Read on.

"Welt marks to the upper back"?

Someone was belting her.

"No evidence

of forced sexual penetration."

"However,

deceased was not a virgin."

And the toxicology report

says she consumed

copious amounts of alcohol

the night before she died.

She didn't lead a sheltered

life, then.

And there could be a boyfriend

we should be suspecting

if we dig a little deeper.

Jane, how nice to see you!

And Mr Butler.

At your service, Mrs Stanley.

Where are the others?

Cec and Bert

were right behind us.

Not those two

ex-wharfie rabble-rousers.

You wanted staff, Aunt Prudence.

You still have a full day

to get them into line.

Ah! Mr Albert Johnson

and Mr Cecil Yates.

I'm sure you've met my aunt,

Mrs Prudence Stanley.

G'day.

PHRYNE: This'll shape up

very nicely by tomorrow.

(clattering)

PRUDENCE: Do be careful!

Each bottle of that champagne

is worth more

than your weekly wage!

Must be bloody liquid gold.

French? How heavenly.

PRUDENCE: Guy seems

to have made a mistake.

I ordered two dozen,

not 20 dozen.

I gather you are paying for it.

Where is Guy, anyway?

Finishing the clues

for the treasure hunt.

Mrs Stanley,

your honest opinion?

Oh, my stars.

Do you think the wig

is too much?

I know you bright young things

like to whoop it up a bit

but please remember

some of our guests

are highly influential people.

PHRYNE: Isabella, my ward, Jane.

How do you do? Is that

your costume for the party?

Yes, I'm Lady Godiva.

Ugh!

I thought you were Eve.

Godiva didn't have a fig leaf.

Oh!

Clever girl.

Please! Not here!

Jane, why don't you go

into the kitchen

and ask Mr Butler for some tea?

They're so sweet at that age.

Poor little Marigold

and that villain of a father.

I hope they hang him.

- Isabella!

- Who else would have done it?

- He was an old soak.

- Poor Mr Brown.

Is he a drinker?

I don't know

what she's talking about.

Lord Fraser couldn't recommend

him highly enough.

Ridiculous!

(horse neighs)

Mr Brown?

I stopped in to have a word

with your aunt's neighbor

on the way here.

According to Lord Fraser,

Herbert Brown

was quick to use a whip

and not just on his horses.

And it seems he liked

more than a drop

of cheap, nasty, hard liquor.

- Doesn't look too cheap to me.

- Can I help you?

How did you come by this,

Mr Brown?

The usual way. At the pub.

You wouldn't find this

at your local watering hole.

It's one of the most expensive

scotch whiskeys in the world.

I didn't know that.

It was a present.

Mr Guy gave it to me.

PHRYNE: Why?

He must appreciate my hard work.

Did Marigold mention anyone

mistreating her?

Punishing her for anything?

Not that I recall. Why?

There were welt marks

on your daughter's body.

Perhaps you mistook her

for a horse.

I may have taken the belt to her

once or twice for her own good.

The lads were like bees

around a honey pot.

I didn't want her

to get knocked up.

What was I supposed to do?

Now if you're done with me,

I've got things I should do.

JACK: Of course.

He doesn't impress me

with his child-rearing skills.

I'm not convinced

he's a killer either.

What if it's not Guy

covering up for Herbert Brown

but the other way round?

That would explain

the bottle of scotch.

Ah, there you are, sir.

I contacted the agency

but Mrs Truebody

hasn't been in contact

since they placed her

with Miss Fisher's aunt.

So she left in a hurry

with no forwarding address

and no position to move on to.

Do you think she's our killer,

sir?

Or she knows who is. Either way,

we seem to have reached

a dead end.

I know you interviewed

all the staff.

But never underestimate

the power of downstairs gossip.

PHRYNE: Mrs Truebody

can't have disappeared.

She was headed for a

holiday cottage at Inverloch.

Goes there once a year to take

the sea air, apparently.

What was that name again?

Sea Wind. Sea View or something.

Sea Breeze.

Sea Breeze Holiday Cottages.

Any problems, Mr Butler?

No, Mrs Stanley.

Everything's going very well.

Now, find a safe place

to store that, good chap.

Is that

your famous English fudge?

PRUDENCE: Ooh!

You wouldn't like it,

Mother. It's made with figs.

Ugh!

May I ask, Miss Fisher,

what is so special

about this fudge?

Apart from the country

of origin, of course.

Believe me, Mr Butler,

it's very special indeed.

Sea Breeze Holiday Cottages,

Inverloch.

C...R...

Crumbs. Breadcrumbs!

Breadcrumbs!

I'm reading Hansel And Gretel.

JANE:

I just taught him a few words.

It's a present. A present!

When do I not

bring you a present?

Hope you haven't

chosen your costume yet.

Since Hansel And Gretel

is your favorite fairytale.

I'm going to be Hansel.

I'm going to be Hansel.

And guess

who's going to be Gretel?

- Who?

- Guess.

Marigold! She...

She loves fairytales.

Darling,

Marigold isn't here anymore.

Where is she?

She had to go away.

Because of me?

No, of course not.

Yes, it is. Because I didn't

give her my toffee apple.

And... And Mother's cross too

because I'm not supposed

to have sweeties.

Tell me, did you see Marigold?

Phryne! That's enough.

Why did you tell Jack Robinson

it was you who found Marigold?

I did find her.

Arthur had no idea she was dead.

Still doesn't, I hope.

Well, somebody should tell him.

He has a right to know.

How long is it now since little

Janey disappeared, Phryne?

Arthur was still a boy

when your sister went missing.

He still has bad dreams,

still awakes in the night,

calling for her.

This time

there's no reason to hope.

The kindest thing you can do

for Arthur is tell him that.

(clattering)

- Arthur!

- Janey!

Arthur, stop it at once!

- Janey!

- For pity's sake!

Janey, come back!

I was just teaching him my name,

that's all!

(cries) I just...

want Janey to come back.

JANE: Does he mean Marigold?

Did the woodcutter

hurt Marigold?

No. You've got it wrong.

There was no woodcutter.

He was in the garden

and he gave her a toffee apple.

I saw him!

Here?

And where were you?

Hiding?

The woodcutter

gave you an apple?

To go away.

But I didn't go away.

And then...

You saw the woodcutter

with Marigold.

She wasn't asleep, was she?

The woodcutter killed her

with his axe, didn't he?

Yes, dear.

I wish I had an axe.

I'd go and I'd find him

and I'd chop him up.

No, don't talk like that.

Arthur, was it someone we know?

Marigold's father?

Someone else from the house?

What did he look like?

Tall? Short?

What color hair?

No, no, it was the woodcutter.

I saw him. The same one.

The one who took Janey.

That's not possible.

There was a toffee apple left

behind when Janey disappeared.

I've tried to dismiss it

as coincidence.

JACK: That's all it is.

Murdoch Foyle died in prison.

PHRYNE:

But what if he's duped us all?

With trickery or he paid people

to help feign his death so that

we all think he's gone

but he's just biding his time,

waiting to strike.

- Strike who?

- Me.

So why would he kill Marigold?

It's a game of cat and mouse.

He knew Prudence Stanley

was my aunt.

It's been all over the society

pages with Guy's engagement.

Foyle's dead, Phryne.

But Arthur said it was

the same man who took Janey.

He identified him

in a police line-up!

With all due respect,

your cousin can't pick

the difference between

fairytales and reality.

Why connect it with Foyle?

Marigold's death reminded him

of Janey's

and whoever he saw he decided

it was the same bogeyman.

The woodcutter.

If it wasn't Murdoch Foyle,

who was it?

The housekeeper saw Marigold

with someone before she left.

Who?

She's on her way

to Melbourne by train,

compliments of the Victorian

Police Force

to tell us in person.

Your invitation.

To Guy and Isabella's party.

As my partner.

Oh, Miss Fisher,

I really don't think...

You have a murder case

to solve

and what better way

to gather information

than to mingle with the crowd?

Besides, I need you to remind me

not to be afraid of shadows.

Do you really think

Mr Foyle is still alive, miss?

Perhaps he's just haunting me,

Dot.

Jack's right.

It's not logical.

Let's hope a hot bath

will bring me to my senses.

I want you to check again.

On Murdoch Foyle.

Not you too, Dotty.

He tried to escape from prison,

the plan went wrong

and he was cremated instead.

So there's no way of digging him

up. Isn't that suspicious?

It's what his mother wanted.

It was at her request.

Then get me her name.

You sound just like Miss Fisher.

Why can't you trust the records?

Because records

can be falsified.

In all the time I've

been Miss Phryne's companion,

her instincts

have never been wrong.

Yes, well,

there's always a first.

So does that mean

you're going to help me or not?

I'll see what I can do.

♪ What da do, what da do ♪

♪ What da do, da da do ♪

♪ Da da do ♪

♪ It makes no difference

if it's sweet or hot ♪

♪ Just keep that rhythm

giving everything you've got ♪

♪ Oh, it don't mean a thing ♪

♪ If it ain't got that swing ♪

No, I'm not wearing that.

- You need to look the part.

- And what part's that?

Part penguin,

part panda bloody bear?

Ah! There you are, Phryne.

Did you remember

to collect the petit fours?

I did, if Cec and Bert would

unload them from the car.

Ah! Don't waste a trip.

You can take Marigold's things

back to her father.

What things?

Don't worry about it. The police

have finished with them.

Follow me, young men.

Why did we agree to this job?

It's only for the early part

of the evening.

And I need you to keep

an eye on Jane.

Leave the bag, Cec.

I'll deliver it myself.

Miss Fisher! Excuse me, miss.

You'd better come quick.

- Mr Butler!

- (man laughs)

Mr Butler!

How much fudge did you eat?

One, two...

Buckle my shoe.

PHRYNE: Two pieces?

Three, four!

Four pieces?!

And he's still standing.

What's wrong with the fudge?

It's laced with hash.

Do you mean hashish?

PHRYNE:

Highest quality, if I know Guy.

Thank you.

Mrs Truebody's

train arrives at four, sir.

Well, if I'm not back by then,

you'll have to interview her

yourself.

I thought

she had important evidence.

I hope she does, Collins,

but I'm not sure

when I'll be released from court

and I have faith

in your abilities.

Thank you, sir.

Er, which courthouse is it?

Just in case I need to find you.

The federal magistrate's.

That's the divorce court,

isn't it, sir?

I believe so.

Well, good luck, sir.

Oh, I do feel queer.

Lie him down somewhere, Bert.

Sleep's the best thing.

Good idea. Going to get a lot

worse before it gets better.

What's wrong with Mr Butler?

He took a liking to Guy's fudge.

Don't press me, Dot dear.

You would be very shocked.

Now tell me,

what do you make of these?

Why, they're lovely, miss.

Such beautiful silk tatting.

Are they French?

I suspect so.

They're not mine.

The stitching

is practically invisible.

They must have cost a penny.

Too many pennies

for Marigold Brown.

They must have been a present.

Possibly

from a gentleman friend.

That's a very inappropriate

sort of present.

A rich gentleman friend given

to inappropriate behavior.

Who springs immediately to mind?

Mr Guy.

PHRYNE:

So where's the inspector?

Surely he gave you some

indication of when he'd return?

- He didn't seem to know.

- Never mind.

I'm heading past the courthouse

on my way back

to Aunt Prudence's.

- I can catch him there.

- No, no, miss.

I don't think

he would like that very much.

Why not?

He... I think

it might be a personal matter.

Personal?

He hasn't robbed a bank, has he?

He's...

He's...

Mrs Truebody

is waiting for her tea.

The housekeeper?

Has she been helpful?

She says she has...

She says she has information

but she says it's delicate

and she's demanding to speak

to a lady police officer.

There are only four of them

in the state!

I tried to explain.

Perhaps a lady investigator

would do?

I've done my best for that

household, Miss Fisher.

I know Mrs Stanley

can be a demanding employer

but I have exacting standards

myself.

- So that's not why you left?

- No.

There was an unfortunate...

incident the night before.

I went upstairs to turn

down the bed in Mr Guy's room.

I knocked but nobody answered.

So you went in?

Oh, it's a sight

I won't forget in a hurry.

Like Sodom and Gomorrah.

Guy and his fiancée?

I'd say so.

But to tell the truth,

I couldn't see their faces,

the two young ladies.

Only Mr Guy's.

So I couldn't stay

under the same roof after that

and I didn't know

how to tell poor Mrs Stanley.

Have a look at these, Bluebeard.

Look familiar?

Which one of you gave Marigold

French underwear?

Stupid woman

should have knocked.

She was barely 16!

Oh, don't go all moralistic

on us, Phryne.

You like your meat tender too.

We had perfectly lovely times,

the three of us.

- Guy had to spoil it all.

- It wasn't my fault.

The little minx followed me

to the cellar

when I went to get supplies.

She pleaded with Guy to take her

back to London with us.

Threatened to claim

we'd forced her.

Well, there's your motive.

GUY: Her father's

the one with the motive.

He found us in the cellar.

It was jolly embarrassing.

It was Marigold's blood

he was baying for, though.

He dragged her off,

called her a slut and a whore,

making a dickens of a row.

I had to appropriate

a bottle of something expensive

and go after them

to calm things down.

So for the sake of a drink,

Herbert was prepared to overlook

his daughter's cavorting?

No, he must have killed her.

Why else would he be

blackmailing me

into giving him an alibi?

So if you weren't with Herbert,

what's your alibi?

I was with Isabella

in the library until after ten.

I had an appointment

with the florist.

She kept banging on about

orchids and stephanotis

until Guy's mother started

screaming about Marigold.

(music and chat)

Cleopatra.

Oh, what an asp!

Now, Phrynekins,

about this Marigold business.

Don't make a fracas tonight.

Think what it will do to Mother.

Don't worry, Guy.

Aunt Prudence is in for

a difficult enough evening

as it is.

I won't make it worse.

I do love you.

So you should.

- You look perfect.

- Thank you. So do you.

Now, only lemonade tonight

and no fudge.

Oh, someone left a note for you.

It's still upstairs

on the dressing table.

I'll get it.

I'm going to check on Arthur.

(knocking)

Arthur?

Hello, Arthur.

Why aren't you at the party?

Mother says Guy doesn't want me.

I can deal with Guy.

I'll be good.

I'll read my book.

You'll miss out on all the fun.

There's going to be

a treasure hunt.

I brought you some treats.

Not hungry.

You might change your mind.

Is Mr Butler

going to be alright?

He'll be fine. It was a reaction

to some fudge.

He must be allergic to figs.

I found out more

about Murdoch Foyle's cremation.

It was at the request of his

mother, Mrs Gertrude Clark.

Her name's not Foyle?

She was a foster mother

so I checked with Welfare

and they remembered her

because she was charged

with maltreating six orphans

in her care.

Starvation and brutality.

She spent two and a half years

in prison.

I've been through her file.

Well, she doesn't sound like the

kind of person I'd want to meet.

But did you find an address?

I did but it's no help.

Mrs Clark's been listed

as a missing person

for the past fortnight.

Jack, you made it.

- Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile.

- Very good.

I assume Hugh told you about our

interview with Mrs Truebody?

- He did.

- Good.

I can fill you in on the rest.

But first, you need a costume.

How can you protest

when you have no idea what it is

I have in mind?

Because nine times out of ten,

what you have in mind

gives me grief.

There's nothing wrong

with the way I'm dressed.

I'm perfectly disguised

as a police detective.

You won't detect much in a crowd

this fast

in a blue wool suit and tie.

I kept this aside for you.

A passable Mark Antony

if we pilfer that sword

on display in the billiard room.

So I'm to be the triple pillar

of the world

transformed

into a strumpet's fool?

You've been at least a single

pillar for far too long.

No one will know who you are.

Except you.

Come on, Jack.

Just one gaudy night.

If you really want

a Roman soldier

then I'll take it from here.

What is it?

This was left for me.

It was Janey's.

She was wearing ribbons in her

hair the day she disappeared.

I have the other one.

- How?

- I don't understand.

It must be him.

Who else was there that day

that could have found it?

Apart from Foyle. Anyone else?

The police were there,

obviously.

My parents.

Aunt Prudence came to collect...

PRUDENCE: Arthur, put that down.

Arthur...

No!

He's gone!

He wouldn't hurt anyone.

We've got to find him.

The wolf.

He's taken the wolf costume.

Arthur!

(blows horn)

(cheering)

Ladies and gentlemen,

we are about to begin

our treasure hunt!

(cheering)

Third prize,

half a case of French champagne!

(cheering)

Second prize, an entire case

of French champagne!

(cheering)

First prize,

a night in the boudoir

with Isabella!

(cheering)

(laughs)

Or me!

(laughter)

- Or both!

- (cheering)

Here's your first clue,

ladies and gentlemen.

"A rose by any other name

would smell as sweet

but only one rose

will lead you to your treat."

On your marks,

ladies and gentlemen.

Get set for the highlight

of the evening.

- And... (blows horn)

Tally-ho!

Onward and upward!

Where's Jane?

- She was here.

- Jane!

So the prison sent his body

to you at Mrs Clark's request?

That's right. I don't remember

everyone who comes through

but she was an odd one.

- In what way?

- She signed off on the job,

we showed her in

to view the deceased

and then we never saw her again.

Haven't heard from her

since either.

But you definitely cremated

Mr Foyle?

Er...

Miss Williams is a relative.

Excuse me, miss.

Didn't mean to be rude.

Yes, we went ahead with the job.

Well, there you are, then.

Commiserations

on your bereavement.

PHRYNE: Jane, where are you?

Jane, are you alright?

I thought this was the next clue

but there's nothing on it.

- Where's Arthur?

- What is it?

Time for you to go home, Jane.

Gather your things, Jane.

I'll get Cec and Bert

to bring around the taxi.

How do we tell if that's him?

What's that?

Just bone probably.

No, it's shiny.

It's more like glass.

Where's that

photograph of Mrs Clark?

Here. This description.

"Born 1856."

"She had one eye,

the other was a glass eye."

Hugh,

these ashes are not Foyle's.

They're his mother's.

There's been a swap.

Right under your nose, Mother!

When were you...

Guy! Guy, what's going on?

Arthur loves Jane!

Yes, he adored Janey and

Marigold too. Can't you see?

He's the common thread.

Stop it!

GUY: All my life

it's been about poor Arthur!

I know you didn't

mean to hurt anyone.

Just take him away and lock him

in an asylum where he belongs!

No!

PHRYNE: Arthur, let go!

What more is it going to take,

huh?

Guy, darling, come back!

Whatever happened, Arthur,

none of it's your fault.

You can tell me. Please.

Ssh, it's alright, darling.

Be calm.

It's not mine. I'm not supposed

to have sweeties.

- Where did you get this?

- It was him.

DOT: Miss Phryne.

It wasn't him. He wasn't

the one who was cremated.

It was his foster mother.

- Dot, are you sure?

- It's true, sir.

It was Gertrude Clark

who entered into those flames.

The ribbon.

Arthur, tell me everything

that happened tonight.

I wanted to go to the party

but Mother wouldn't let me.

And when I went outside,

the man was there.

He gave me another toffee apple

but he took my costume

and he hit me.

The same man

you saw with Marigold?

Yes. The woodcutter.

The one who took Janey away.

Oh my God.

Foyle drowned Marigold.

He knew I'd help my aunt.

And he's still out there, Jack.

I wonder if I could trouble you

for a lift?

My car won't start and I need

to get back to St Kilda.

No worries, jump in.

We're heading that way.

I've let all the staff know.

At least

Jane's out of harm's way.

The guard at the gatehouse

saw a man holding a wolf costume

flag down a taxi.

- We've just missed them.

- Cec and Bert!

We'll take my car.

Dot, telephone Mr Butler.

Warn him to lock

all the doors and windows

and tell him Jane's on her way.

(phone rings)

(phone continues to ring)

There has to be someone

at that number.

It's an emergency. Could you

please check the line for me?

BERT: Are we home yet?

Go back to sleep, will you?

Goodnight, then.

Thank you.

So where can we drop you?

Anywhere near

Acland Street will be fine.

Acland Street.

(kettle whistles)

(doorbell)

Excuse me,

I'm so sorry to bother you

but I appear to have left

my house keys back in my car.

Do you think

I could use your telephone?

Of course. Come in.

- The telephone's just there.

- Thank you.

Good evening.

Could you please connect me

to a number

at the Camberwell Exchange?

I was a professor

at the university.

Really? I want to go to

university. What did you teach?

History was my area.

Ancient worlds are my passion.

Mine too!

Er, milk?

No, thank you.

Makes me think of Cleopatra.

Bathing in asses' milk.

Oh, yes.

She was in love with Marc

Antony, who was a Roman general.

Tell me more about Cleopatra.

Feeling better, Mr Butler?

Yes. In fact,

I'm really rather peckish.

You are?

Mr Ayrton's car

broke down at the party.

He teaches history.

Does he?

Well, that's very interesting.

Thank you for the tea.

I should be leaving.

I'll see you out, Mr Ayrton.

Jane?

Where are you?

Jane!

- What's wrong?

- Where is he?

Where's Murdoch Foyle?

He'll be back.