Original subtitles

(shower running)

(shouting and cheering)

Abbotsford!

Let's hear it for the lads!

(all cheer)

Hey, give us an autograph?

Get that into you, Vince.

What's happened to your captain?

Still off the booze?

Down, Scotty.

How are you, mate?

VINCE:

Coach. Where's our captain?

I left him to lock up the sheds.

Still mucking around

with health remedies

and bloody

cold-water treatments.

As long as it helps him

with his game.

You're the vice-captain. You

make sure they have a good time.

(clinking on glass)

And the winner of the esteemed--

Call the bloody number, Bert.

Number 27.

Hang on. That's me.

- BERT: Go at it, Frank!

- (men cheer)

Told you I could get it.

Good on you, Coach.

VINCE: Last drinks, lads,

and no hoarding.

Righto, you lot.

This isn't funny.

Which one of you jokers

has pinched my lucky hat?

BERT: It's not just a hat,

Miss Fisher.

It's Coach Maclean's lucky hat

he wears to every game.

Miss Fisher, is it?

Joe Maclean.

Any idea

who might have taken your hat?

Someone who plugs

for the opposition.

- West Melbourne.

- Come inside. Have a chat.

I'll pull them out

of fitness training.

They look fit enough to me.

Get the ball. Bloody Harry

forgot to lock it again.

You don't know how many times

I've told him.

Superstitious lot,

I'm afraid, footy players.

Harry!

- Don't touch him.

- But it's Harry the Hangman!

The team captain!

Those West Melbourne bastards

did this.

I say we go

and burn down their rooms.

West Melbourne finally took

the Hangman back into the fold.

- It's an evil bloody joke!

- He hanged with a West scarf!

There'll be no violence.

Anyone taking things into

their own hands will be charged.

- That means you, Pat O'Farrell.

- Yeah?

Do you barrack

for West Melbourne?

As a matter of fact,

Abbotsford is my team as well.

- And mine too.

- So if you'll go home

we can get on

with our investigation.

- Thank you, gentlemen.

- Where is he?

- Celia, don't go in there.

- Vince, tell me what happened!

Mrs Harper. Inspector Robinson.

It's best if you go home.

We'll come by

and speak with you privately.

Lads, take her home, would you?

Harry wouldn't want her

left alone.

PAT: Sort it out, copper,

or we will.

A football ground, Miss Fisher.

The last place

I'd expect to find you.

I watched my first match from

my father's shoulders, Jack.

- Collingwood supporter?

- Lapsed.

Since Collingwood

versus Carlton, 1910.

1910... But your team won.

Admittedly some of the worst

fighting ever seen in football.

- Is that what put you off?

- You know me better than that.

Why exactly are you here,

Miss Fisher?

She's here to help recover

my hat.

- Your lucky hat?

- Stolen last night.

That's a West Melbourne scarf.

They might as well

have put up a sign.

I can understand the opposition

stealing a lucky charm

but murder?

That mob would do anything

to see us go down.

- Why are his wrists taped?

- Injury.

Unusual to have both taped,

though,

and there's bruising

to the back of the head.

He copped a blow at training

yesterday, sir, from Barlow.

What about the soles

of his feet?

What about them?

You should take a closer look.

It's strange.

You have your brief

to get on with, Miss Fisher,

and I have mine.

Amazing what football does

to a man.

Blisters. Some kind of burns.

Hey, Pat.

Here comes one of them.

West are only sour

because we won

the first clash of the season.

This is revenge, lads.

Heard the news.

Rubbing your hands, are you?

Just because I'm a West man.

You're a traitor to your suburb.

Yeah but I'm a good son

to my mum.

She was born

at West Melbourne so...

PHRYNE: Good morning!

Didn't realize you were

called in on this case, miss.

I called her in to find

Coach Maclean's lucky hat.

- One of your mob's stolen it.

- We wouldn't stoop that low.

Besides, we were in

our club house all night.

Oh, yeah.

You two do realize

I won't be taking sides.

Why would you?

You were born in Collingwood.

Gibbs.

- Neville.

- Hello, Joe.

Here to rub it in, are you?

No, I'm here to offer

my condolences.

It's a damn tragedy.

Mr Gibbs. Saved us a trip.

Perhaps you'd like

to speak with us inside.

Certainly.

What a cheek.

Nev Gibbs? He's no stranger

to tragedy, Bert.

- In what way?

- He's a widower.

Lost his wife when

he started coaching West, right.

Then a couple of years ago

his daughter dies.

He doesn't miss a beat.

We almost won the flag

that year.

Not even close!

You said the hat was taken

from the club rooms.

How could a West Melbourne fan

infiltrate?

Yeah, good question, miss.

It was that kid hanging around

asking for autographs.

I thought she looked suspicious.

Dressed like a boy.

Dressed like a boy?

Cheeky. About 16, 17.

Think it's our orange girl.

- Where can we find this tomboy?

- If I get my hands on her--

If Bert lays a finger on her

I'll drop the case.

West Melbourne. Fruit market.

Anyone could have used that.

Not just one of us.

There are hundreds of them

out there.

Still, Harry Harper doesn't have

many friends at West Melbourne.

He deserted...

moved on to another club.

Now, no-one likes that.

But they wouldn't kill him

for it.

Harper was a gifted player.

But not everyone

enjoyed his tactics.

JACK: Or his reputation.

He had an eye for the ladies,

alright.

But why would someone

from the West

use their own club scarf

to kill him?

It would just bring grief

and suspicion on the whole club.

Cover of the crowd.

I'm still going to want

to talk to your blokes.

They're not going anywhere.

We've got a game to play.

You might want to talk

to Harper's teammates as well.

Plenty of people closer to home,

not unlike your man here,

happy to have a go at Harper.

Now I'll say g'day, gentlemen.

HUGH: I wasn't having a go, sir.

We need to set aside

our allegiances, Collins.

This is a murder enquiry,

not a footy match.

Sir, your wife...

Your previous wife, sir.

Jack. We just heard.

What a terrible thing.

Rosie. I thought you'd returned

to the West Melbourne fold.

Yes, Father

would have loved that.

But unfortunately for him,

Sidney's a fervent

Abbotsford man.

- Another one.

- Jack.

Harry Harper was

a brilliant player.

He was a good bloke, too.

He worked in shipping,

didn't he?

Managing one of my warehouses.

After he left West Melbourne.

Rosie and I have become

quite close to the Harpers.

Celia must be shattered,

poor thing.

Oh, and if you happen to see our

favorite Deputy Commissioner,

no need to mention we were here.

Father couldn't take

any more antagonizing.

Cheerio.

So...

Deputy Commissioner Sanderson

is a West Melbourne fan, sir?

Rabid, Collins. Life member.

We'll have to tread carefully.

MAN: Jonathon apples,

one shilling sixpence a bushel.

Cabbages, cauliflowers.

Half a dozen oranges, please.

One more.

If you insist.

But you can keep the change.

Is that more

than you were paid for the hat?

I don't have

the faintest idea what--

Have you heard

about Harry Harper?

Yeah, the Hangman.

What about him?

Found dead

in the locker rooms last night.

Well, I never liked him.

He was a traitor to the West.

Nevertheless, I think Abbotsford

have enough going against them

without the coach losing his

lucky hat as well, don't you?

And the police

will be looking very closely

at everyone who was

at the club rooms last night.

Especially anyone with a motive

to knock off Abbotsford's

caption.

Look, whatever you think I did,

I did it for all of us

that love West Melbourne.

Not for a rotten pound.

I have a witness

who can identify you.

And if you don't cooperate I'll

take you to the police myself.

If I tell you who it was,

he'll kill me.

A description will do.

(whistles)

JACK: That's right.

Stan Baines took the Hangman

under his wing at West.

Then as soon as he becomes

their shining star,

the Hangman deserts

his teammates

and joins West's arch enemy, us.

Gibbs never let him

off his leash.

It speaks

of the man's character.

Why was Harper called

the Hangman?

For the amount of time

he could hang in the air.

Or the amount of heads

he almost took off.

He was out for himself.

That's what made him invincible!

I think you're wrong!

Sir. Sorry, sir.

Harper carried

a guilty conscience.

So he went soft when he went

up against his old teammates.

Not the first game

of the season.

Harper and Baines

had that punch-out on the field

then Harper ripped through

him through the second half.

Yes. A feat Harry Harper

won't be repeating.

I want to talk to

his old teammates.

Dark hair, big shoulders?

Could be lots of

West Melbourne blokes.

Or Abbotsford blokes

getting back at Maclean.

He was always bluing

with his players.

Like Harry Harper.

He wasn't above a set-to

with his coach.

You can't speak ill of the dead.

Players and coaches argue

all the time.

PHRYNE: Half-time, boys.

Poppy? Another crumb?

- Gold front tooth.

- Has to be him.

- Who?

- BOTH: Stan Baines.

Coach Gibbs dedicated

the first match of the season

to the dear departed.

Harry thought we were

trying to put the wind up him.

- And were you?

- No.

Gibbs meant his kid

who passed on. Myra.

How did you feel about him

leaving West Melbourne?

Bloody angry. But you know why

I wouldn't rub him out?

I wanted to make my 300.

And I wanted my last day on

the field to be against Harry.

(door opens)

Inspector. Sorry to interrupt.

Stan Baines.

Captain for West Melbourne.

Delighted to meet you.

Miss Fisher.

Lady detective.

If I might have a word with you

about Joe Maclean's lucky hat.

Is this a joke?

Harry Harper's dead

and you're worried about

his coach's flea-bitten cap?

JACK: You're here about Harper's

death. Answer the questions.

Do you know a young woman

called Poppy Brown?

West supporter.

Runs a fruit barrow.

Maybe.

Well, she confessed to the theft

under heavy interrogation,

but she refused to name the man

who paid her.

What is this?

Is she your fullback?

I like the sound of that.

- Excuse me, sir.

- Yes.

Deputy Commissioner Sanderson's

here with Coach Gibbs.

Neville Gibbs telephoned me,

complaining

of police harassment.

He tells me that

you've brought Stan Baines in.

He can't be a suspect

in this murder, surely.

It seemed worth

a chat with him, sir,

given the pair's history,

recent and long-term.

Have you turned up

any hard evidence?

A West Melbourne scarf

was at the crime scene.

I said hard evidence.

Anyone could have planted that.

But I can't rule out Baines yet.

Jack, Stan Baines is still

a popular player with West fans.

Now if word gets out

that you are an Abbotsford man

and you are harassing him

unnecessarily...

...it's you who will be suspect.

We're not holding Baines,

Mr Gibbs.

He's told us what we need

to know and he's free to go.

- Good.

- For the moment.

- Why'd you do it?

- Get off me, you bastards!

Let him through!

(all shout)

Let them through.

Let them through! Get back.

We're down our best man, Gibbs,

but we'll fight back!

You're gonna pay for this, pal!

Bloody hell.

Stan Baines took it, you reckon.

Yeah, well,

that doesn't surprise me.

(sneezes)

- MACLEAN: Bless you.

- Thank you.

Do you know why Harry Harper

left West Melbourne

to come across to you?

Baines wouldn't let him

spread his wings.

And Gibbs wasn't

on top of a thing

because he'd had a bad trot.

First his wife died, then

his kid. One after the other.

So moving to Abbotsford solved

all Harry Harper's problems.

Seems so. He married Celia.

Won the captaincy.

Only got the willies

when we played West Melbourne

and he ended up

one-on-one with Baines.

(sneezes)

- Bless you.

- Thank you, Bert.

So what will happen now that

you've lost your captain?

- Barlow will have to step up.

- DOT: He's the vice-captain.

He was full forward,

in line for the captaincy

before Harry Harper

moved across to Abbotsford.

(sniffs)

Hugh - he's my beau -

explained it all to me.

- Abbotsford man, is he?

- Very much so.

Yeah, well, you've chosen well.

We'll have to shuffle

a few of the lads

but nothing will fill

the hole Harry's left.

Telephone, miss. The Inspector.

I'm off, anyway.

Come on, Scotty. Come on.

Thank you. For this.

And the tea.

And if you could tell

the Inspector,

any developments,

I'd appreciate a nod.

Of course.

Lucky I didn't tell him

you're a West Melbourne girl.

Until you hook up

with Hugh Collins, that is.

If Hugh marries me, I don't see

why I should convert.

No choice. He'll want to take

his kids to the game.

I'll divide them up,

just like my mum did.

Girls for the West

and boys for Abbotsford.

It's people like you who bring

footy clubs down, Dottie.

Ahem.

I was just looking

at his tattoo.

- You've seen it before.

- Well, my case is closed.

The hat is back where it belongs

and Coach Maclean is grateful.

Full marks. But it won't win me

any points with the Deputy.

It's very bad luck

that his daughter found herself

another Abbotsford man.

Sidney Fletcher won't be winning

any points with him either.

Let's talk about

Harry Harper's feet.

The burns are third-degree.

Really?

That doesn't make any sense.

No. We got the water

back up to full heat.

Even then it wasn't enough

to burn skin.

And his feet were hanging

off the ground, in any case.

It's a conundrum.

What about cause of death?

We're still waiting

on the full autopsy

but preliminary examination

points to strangulation.

No broken neck.

But these marks indicate a rope.

If it was a rope

that killed him,

how did he come to be

hanging by a scarf?

Assuming we're dealing with a

suicide, Harper throws a rope...

- Yet to be found.

- ...ties it off at the tap,

climbs up, kicks the stool out,

hangs himself.

Badly, slowly suffocating

instead of snapping

his own spine.

Why was the hot water running?

That's odd.

Especially

because Maclean's big on

cold-water treatments

all winter.

Toughens up the players.

Sounds hideous.

He kicked out with his feet,

turning the taps on by accident.

Or perhaps it was whoever it was

that swapped the rope

for the scarf.

Someone strong enough

to haul him up again.

Or smart enough

to attach the scarf first

then release the rope.

Alright. Manly strength

versus womanly intelligence.

Who would want to make a suicide

look like a murder?

And why would Harry Harper,

a man at the peak

of his football career,

want to kill himself

in the first place?

No. Don't believe it.

Harry had too much fight in him.

You're wrong.

Even if Harry Harper died

by his own hand,

someone interfered with the body

afterwards.

Why?

That's another mystery

we're trying to solve.

What were you doing last night,

Mr Maclean?

- Me?

- Where were you?

I was here at the club rooms.

Having a drink with the lads

after training.

- From about six.

- Until when?

After ten.

After I gave up

looking for my bloody hat.

You are wasting your time.

Harry Harper was murdered

by West Melbourne.

And I will continue to interview

people from both clubs

until I've solved this case.

Joe Maclean was

at the club rooms last night

but we still need

to verify the times.

Bert was there. He could help.

Maclean was no help at all with

Harry Harper's state of mind?

Refuses to even entertain

the possibility of suicide.

- And I'm with him, sir.

- Collins.

Looks like I'll have to raise it

with Harper's widow.

You said she was staying

with your... wife.

- Former.

- Your former wife.

Yes.

And her fiancé.

Potentially awkward.

But then what's awkward

compared to dying naked

in the shower

with the opposition's scarf

around your throat?

Besides,

you have me on your team.

♪ I'm looking over

a four-leaf clover ♪

♪ That I overlooked before ♪

Whatever kind of shipping

Mr Fletcher dabbles in

must be doing very nicely.

Oh, it's Jack.

I thought it was Father.

It's that policeman's knock.

We've come

to speak with Mrs Harper.

Oh. And of course, Miss Fisher.

- Miss Anderson.

- Please, call me Rosie.

Likewise. Phryne.

- Is this a good time?

- Yes.

I've just come to help Sidney

with preparations for

Harry's service this afternoon.

Please.

CELIA: I know that he struggled

after he left West Melbourne.

He was branded a traitor.

But after that things improved.

Thanks to your help, Sidney.

I don't know what

either of us would have done

without your support.

Don't be silly. Offering him

a job was the least I could do.

Jack.

Miss Fisher.

Yes, I've always admired him

for his ability to play football

and surprisingly,

a good head for business.

So Harry wasn't in any kind

of financial trouble?

Not that I know of.

Though I'm sure

there were things

that Harry didn't share with me.

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

Poor Celia.

Were Celia and Harry

happy together, do you think?

They'd only been married

a couple of years.

I think they had

a perfectly good marriage.

Celia said they were planning

a cruise to the continent.

At the end of the season.

- Sounds romantic.

- I thought so.

So this service

you're holding today.

FLETCHER: Yes, it's for the team

as much as Celia.

Mm. We just hope

the newspapers will stay away.

Jack, we know you want to solve

this case. We all want that.

But it would be

so much easier for Celia

if there weren't

a police presence.

Of course.

I assume you never took Rosie

on a continental cruise.

No but I did take her

to Miss Moller's

Holiday Cottages at Lorne.

Excellent choice.

Rosie seemed

very quick to defend

Celia and Harry's marriage.

And what did Celia mean,

the things

Harry never shared with her?

I'm sure you'll try and find out

at his memorial service,

while I keep

my police presence away.

Don't sulk, Jack.

I'm sure the Deputy

Commissioner's not invited.

Besides, you may need

to visit a travel agent.

Where did you souvenir that?

Vince Barlow's locker.

Looks like somebody else

was planning a sea voyage.

Phryne Fisher. I didn't know you

were an Abbotsford supporter.

It's a fledgling interest.

What are you hoping

to find here?

Vince Barlow

seems very attentive.

If you're looking

for a scarlet woman

I think you'll find

you'll be disappointed.

I never presume to judge a woman

on the basis of her morals.

I'm only trying

to solve a murder case.

I thought you and Jack

suspected suicide.

I don't think Harper's the type.

I'd have to

agree with you there.

Purely on

the basis of intuition.

Intuition or observation?

Sometimes one becomes the other.

A gesture

a little too intimate.

ROSIE: You suspect Vincent

of harming Harry?

People usually kill

for love or money.

- Celia did ask my advice.

- About what?

Um... divorce.

But I don't think she had any

plans on going through with it.

Oh.

What's Baines doing here?

I've come to pay my respects.

Despite everything,

we were teammates.

This is for Harry.

Mrs Harper.

You have a bloody cheek

turning up here.

- You should not have come here.

- Get out of my way!

You've got no shame.

Go before we throw you out.

Celia! Celia!

What is it

you're accusing me of?

- I don't know what to think.

- I would have waited.

I would have suffered for you.

But everything's different now.

- This is my chance.

- Get your hands off me.

Stanley! I thought it was you.

We need to talk.

He's onto us.

Oi! What are you doing here?

Bloody hypocrite.

Your lot killed Harry.

This is Abbotsford's turf, mate.

You don't know the half of it,

O'Farrell!

Come back and finish the fight,

Baines!

Come on, you coward!

Did the Hangman know

you and Celia were lovers?

Harry was a useless husband and

didn't give a damn about Celia.

He didn't give two hoots

about the other women either.

All he cared about was the game,

nothing else.

Not his team, not other people,

and certainly not his marriage.

You and Celia Harper

have tickets booked

for the end of the season

on the Halcyon Sky cruise ship.

In adjoining cabins.

I checked with King and Co.

Celia was asking Harry

for a divorce.

So there was no need

to get him out of the way.

Vincent and I wouldn't have done

anything to disrupt the game.

Like go on a cruise together?

You have to understand.

Harry was too wrapped up in his

problems to have time for me.

He never got over

making the move to Abbotsford.

PHRYNE: Wasn't it his decision?

CELIA:

He was only considering it.

And then Sidney Fletcher offered

him that job on the docks.

With a house as well. And...

A house?

But there's something else

you should know.

Something Harry said

the night before he died.

- Go on.

- (door opens)

Where's Inspector Robinson?

I'll just tell him you're here,

Deputy Commissioner.

We need to settle things down

on the streets, Jack.

If we don't sort out this case

before the match on Saturday,

we will have a riot

on our hands.

Did you know Sidney Fletcher

bought the Harpers a house?

I have heard the rumors.

Then you must know

Harper worked for Fletcher.

If you have enough money

you can buy anything you want.

So Fletcher bribed Harper

to swap teams.

I didn't say that.

Have you charged Barlow yet?

At this point he's only

helping us with enquiries.

- Then hold him overnight.

- I can't justify that.

Jack, at least if

you've got someone in custody

we can keep a lid

on this unrest.

Just till the morning.

That is evidence

and you are not police.

And may I suggest that you make

yourself scarce, Miss Fisher?

A suggestion's not the same

as an order, is it?

No, not in my book.

Does Mrs Harper have an alibi

for the night her husband died?

Yes, and I just found out,

according to Celia, Harry

refused to grant her a divorce

the night before he died.

Looks like Barlow's spending

the night with us after all.

(door closes)

The full coroner's report

has just arrived, sir.

Strangulation.

No surprise there.

Bruising. Harper was struck

with a blunt object

on the right side

of the back of his head.

So it wasn't a training injury.

And there was bruising

under the tape on his wrists

consistent with

the bruising to his neck,

suggesting his hands

were bound with rope as well.

So he was murdered.

What I don't understand

is why whoever did it

removed the rope.

In favor of a scarf.

Whoever spent so much time

knitting this

would be horrified

by where it ended up.

Don't feel like helping out,

Collins?

- Do your bit for Abbotsford?

- Nah, there's no point, sir.

Harper's gone and Vince's locked

up for sleeping with his wife.

That was his motive, Collins,

not the reason we locked him up.

Anyway,

I just need you to know, sir,

I've burnt my footy scarf.

Miss Fisher said

you were in training.

Hi, Dottie. No, we're

just giving Mr Barlow some air.

Are you sure that's safe,

Inspector?

Letting an inmate out.

He's outnumbered.

Three to one now.

I used to make this

for my brothers

when they played juniors.

Chicory with honey and pepper.

It was to fortify them.

They lost every game but

they gave it their best shot.

- Every game?

- Yes. That's the hardest thing.

Staying true to your team

when everything's going wrong.

Just like you and the Inspector.

Make it count, Collins.

(phone rings)

Ah, Dot. How's Hugh faring?

He still has some Abbotsford

spirit left in him yet, miss.

- (sneezes)

- Bless you. A cold starting?

No, I thought it was just that

coach's dog that set me off.

But maybe.

Dot, come here.

- Take a sniff.

- I may have--

Take a deep sniff.

Have you been petting him, miss?

- (sneezes)

- No. I was--

(phone rings)

Hello, Phryne Fisher speaking.

It's Stan Baines here.

I have a confession

I need to make.

I'm at the West Melbourne

club rooms.

I'm on my way.

Is that you, Miss Fisher?

Now the West mob

will be crying foul.

A telephone call, you said.

Baines was drunk.

Something about a confession.

A woman was waiting

for Stan Baines

when he left the memorial

service for Harry today.

- Did she threaten him?

- No.

She wanted to talk to him.

It seemed urgent.

But a bunch of Abbotsford

rabble rousers showed up--

- Miss.

- Sorry.

A noisy Irish fellow

kicked up a fuss

and Baines knocked him down.

Pat O'Farrell.

Sounds like we need to find him

as well as this other woman.

Any idea how to track her down?

No but she knew Stan Baines

so I guess we start

with the West Melbourne camp.

Look at this.

Oof. Two... nine... seven.

Number of games he played, sir?

- No, he played 298.

- A killer who can't count.

Stan Baines was still a suspect

for Harry Harper's death.

Perhaps someone else

thought he did it too.

Someone like at O'Farrell, sir?

If there was a confrontation,

he's my first choice.

And then there's Celia Harper,

Joe Maclean, Vince Barlow.

Barlow's still at the station

so he has a perfect alibi.

- Oh, Christ.

- JACK: Thanks for coming.

We can talk outside.

Poppy Brown.

Hugh!

Yes, miss.

I have an inkling

where we can track down

this mystery friend

of Stan Baines'.

If I was gonna knock off

a West player

it'd be one of the young guns.

Not a bloke

who's on the way out.

Why don't you take a seat,

Mr O'Farrell?

Please. Sit down.

Now, you have three times been

ejected from various grounds

for incitement and menaces.

You did three months

for bottling an umpire.

I'm passionate about the game.

Hm. You were witnessed arguing

with him yesterday afternoon.

- Where were you last night?

- Raising a glass to Harry.

Then in a fight outside

around eleven

then at the hospital

till two in the morning.

Good, we'll check

with the medical staff.

You do what you like.

You'll need another suspect.

Try one who owns a bloody gun.

Do you own a pistol?

I wouldn't know how to use one

if I did.

A Lee Enfield rifle, maybe.

Shot, was he? Baines?

(knocking)

Excuse me, do you mind if I ask

Mr Maclean a quick question?

Be my guest.

- Is your dog molting?

- I'm sorry, Miss Fisher. What?

Unfortunately my companion

Dorothy Williams

has a terrible reaction

to Scotty's hair.

Maybe she should just

keep her distance.

She also had a terrible reaction

to my gloves

after I'd touched

the West Melbourne scarf

that was tied

around Harry Harper's neck.

Perhaps I'd just patted Scotty

and then I touched that scarf.

You didn't go near that scarf

after Harper's body was found.

Did you murder him before you

tied the scarf around his neck?

- No!

- You'd better explain then.

One of the younger blokes

stole the scarf from West sheds.

I gave it to Scotty to sleep on.

So how did it end up

around Harry Harper's neck?

When I went to look for Harry

when he hadn't turned up

for the party,

I found him, our club captain,

hanging by a rope

in the shower stall.

I went to my office.

Got that scarf.

And swapped it with the rope.

I wanted West Melbourne

to take the blame.

JACK: So you thought

you'd covered up a suicide.

PHRYNE:

Why should we believe you?

He left... He left a note.

Pinned to the coat rack.

JACK:

"I was a traitor to my team."

"This is all I deserve."

"I'm sorry for everything.

Harry."

MACLEAN:

I couldn't have that come out.

That Harry had killed himself

because he left West Melbourne.

You said Harry used

ice treatments after training.

Yes, he did that day too.

There was a chunk of ice left

over the drain.

Ice can cause

third-degree burns, can't it.

If the contact is long enough.

So what gave you the idea?

An upset bowl of ice

at Harry Harper's memorial.

So how will this establish

the time of death, miss?

The ice was almost gone

when Maclean found him

around eight o'clock.

And the water

was still running hot.

So we can work backwards

to find out when Harry

was placed on the block of ice

that burned his feet

and eventually led to his death.

An hour and fifteen minutes.

Which means Harper

was forced onto the block

around 6,45pm.

So who had the opportunity then?

Poppy Brown?

- You just missed her.

- Oh.

(sighs)

Well, I'll just make do

with you then.

Tell me who this woman is,

standing next to you.

It's Mrs Dangerfield.

And?

She used to be the club nurse.

Used to?

Yeah, before Myra Gibbs died.

Two years ago

Stan Baines telephoned me.

I delivered his first kiddie.

And perhaps he thought

I was discreet.

I had to be at times.

Women would come to you

for all kinds of help.

If they were in trouble?

But it was too late by the time

they brought Myra to me.

She's already tried

to help herself.

With a knitting needle.

And she was losing the bub.

So what did you do?

I did what I could and I managed

to stop the bleeding

but I gave them instructions

to head for hospital

if anything started up again.

I heard next morning that

she'd been rushed to hospital.

I couldn't come forward.

I couldn't even go

to the poor lass's funeral.

July 29th.

You were away from

the West Melbourne party

for over an hour.

Well, that doesn't

prove anything.

Your daughter died on July 29th

two years ago.

What's that got to do with it?

We thought the number

carved into Baines' forehead

was a mistaken tally

of the games he'd played.

But it wasn't.

It was the date

of your daughter's death.

29/7.

- This is all speculation.

- No. No, it isn't.

You took two years

to track down Mrs Dangerfield

but we had more luck.

Myra's death wasn't

from peritonitis.

Was it.

I gave Harry a chance

to confess.

When you dedicated the match

to the dear departed.

Harry knew the game was up.

And he still didn't have

the guts to front me.

Took it out on Baines instead.

So you made him write

his goodbyes.

JACK: But you wanted something

else from Harry, didn't you.

Myra told me

there was two blokes involved.

Before she died.

So you decided

to force it out of him.

Harry must have told you

about Stan Baines' involvement.

Oh, eventually.

Said Baines told him

to get shot of Myra

because she was in trouble.

Footy was what mattered.

Just the game. Nothing else.

JACK: So you left Harry there.

Oh, I didn't care about him.

About the game.

Nothing.

After what he did

to my little girl.

Callous bastard.

JACK: You planned it

to look like a suicide.

What did you make of

your team's scarf

ending up

around Harry's neck?

I thought it was ironic.

Myra knitted that scarf for me.

And Joe Maclean used it to cover

up your deed.

Of course.

Who else but a coach

would risk going to jail

for the sake

of a lousy football team.

So then you went after

Stan Baines.

In for a penny.

In for a pound.

(cheering)

Come on!

- Come on, Abbotsford!

- Go, West!

- Abbotsford!

- Go, West!

(chanting continues)

Very dashing, Hugh.

Well, you don't want

anyone confused

about who you barrack for.

And I used my best wool

so you're not allowed

to burn this one.

- Rose.

- Ooh.

Just wanted to wish you luck.

I'm surprised the game

is still going ahead.

The club presidencies met

last night

to consider canceling

out of respect.

Father lost to Sidney.

Even my observational skills

tell me that

this does not bode well.

Excuse me.

Beaut. Yep.

Do you think Rosie knows

her fiancé bribed Harry Harper

to leave her father's team?

All's fair in love and football,

Miss Fisher.

I'm glad you think so.

So tell me. What kept you away

from the game?

My mother.

After I was caught

trying to sabotage

Carlton's newest recruit

by smuggling him beer.

Always an unsuspecting man

involved.

I was only ten at the time.

So this should be interesting.

At least the last week

has leveled the playing field.

Two dead players,

one coach locked up for

obstructing an investigation

and the other one charged

with murder.

Anything could happen.

Even a Collingwood girl

would have to stay

for a game like that.

What do you think?

To humor an Abbotsford man.

♪ My baby don't care

for shows ♪

♪ My baby don't care

for clothes ♪

♪ My baby just cares for me ♪

♪ My baby don't care

for silks and laces ♪

♪ My baby don't care

for high-tone places ♪

♪ My baby don't care

for rings ♪

♪ Or other expensive things ♪

♪ She's sensible as can be ♪

♪ My baby don't care

who knows it ♪

♪ My baby just cares for me ♪