All language subtitles for Miss.Fishers.Murder.Mysteries.S02E11.Dead.Air.NF.WEBRip.CC.en

WOMAN: And I'm not keeping

quiet. No. No, keep away!

Get back!

No, get away! Let go!

Let go!

(screams)

(static on radio)

How many stations

can it pick up?

Only 3JH, I'm afraid.

That's how

a restricted license works.

But that's perfect.

May I ask what's so particular

about this 3JH?

It has the Polkinghorns.

And a girl who went to my school

helps to make it.

(music plays)

And now it's time to revisit

our daily serial,

At Home with the Polkinghorns.

A New Day.

That sounds like the taxi now.

Maurice, it must be

our Guinevere,

home in time

for her 21st birthday.

(clacking)

- Who's Guinevere?

- Their daughter.

Look outside, Maurice.

Our Guinevere.

(rings)

- Where is she?

- Shh.

- I...

- (mouths)

...don't want to see her

after what she did.

What did she do?

Ran off with an Italian

opera singer.

Oh. We've all done that.

But we are on air!

- (whispers) Come on.

- Whatever is keeping that maid?

- She's dead.

- MAN: Who's dead?

Louisa, outside.

Just turn the blasted thing off!

Loui... Louisa Singleton's

the girl I know.

MAN: Radios claim newspaper

war. Out now in the "Argus".

Ah, Miss Fisher.

How did you know?

We were listening

to the wireless.

Louisa was going to do

so many wonderful things.

Miss Fisher, detective.

And my assistant, Miss Williams.

Jimmy Creswick, station manager,

3JH, and my wife, Hazel.

- HUGH: Come on.

- And this is Louisa?

Yes, our girl Friday,

Miss Louisa Singleton.

- How awful.

- They said they'd get us.

- Who did?

- JIMMY: Hazel, love.

Come inside and calm down.

Looks like she was strangled.

Such a shame, one so young.

- Terrible.

- Time of death 6:40pm.

If we assume she was wearing

these clothes yesterday

and her watch was working.

Thank you.

I'll take it from here.

Step back, please. Thank you.

Just step right back, please.

- Where's Inspector Robinson?

- He's... He's on another job.

Well, we'd be happy

to assist you, Hugh.

You know, Miss Singleton was

a good school friend of Dot's.

She'd never forgive me

if I didn't help.

Miss, the... the other job

the inspector's on,

he's undercover

and it's confidential.

Sounds intriguing. Come on, Dot.

HAZEL: Yes, exactly the same

outfit she was in yesterday.

JIMMY: We just thought

she was late this morning.

Even though

Louisa was never late.

Today of all days.

JIMMY: Playing Guinevere

in the Polkinghorns

was her big step up.

Is there anyone who might have

wanted to harm Miss Singleton?

No. Louisa put all her efforts

into her work.

Top girl. She kept the books

neat, typed up all our scripts.

She broke it off

with her fiancé in Perth

when she was offered the job

at 3JH.

Are any of these coats Louisa's?

Yes, the cloak.

I can scribe if you like.

So no grudges, threats?

JIMMY: No, not against her

in particular.

There were telephone calls

a few days ago.

Hazel took one,

Louisa the other.

HAZEL: It was a man.

He warned us to shut down the

station or he'd do it himself.

We've been expecting trouble.

There have been attacks

on other radio stations.

From our brightest night

to our darkest day.

Hazel was crowned

Best Female Talent last night

at the Australian

Recorded Performance Awards.

Oh, no.

Oh, Oswald.

JIMMY: Come now, Hazel.

It's only a goldfish.

It was probably his time.

HAZEL: Sorry.

I'm not normally like this.

JACK: Good morning.

This is the ten o'clock news.

From July, electric trams will

run from the eastern suburbs...

That voice.

This is predicted not only to

alleviate traffic in the center

but also bring many new shoppers

to the city,

where they can enjoy

a splendid array of stores

and restaurants

that cater to all tastes.

Mr Archibald Jones,

he of the dulcet tones.

- Wherever did you find him?

- We didn't.

The board of 3JH

decided last week

to offer an hourly news service.

We wanted to train Clarence

for the role,

but management hired Mr Jones.

Why don't you go

and have a sit-down, love?

- You've had a shock.

- You're right, darling.

I do feel slightly shattered.

Couldn't get out more than two

words in front of a microphone

when I first met her.

Perhaps having

a private detective around

would reassure her,

a discreet presence.

If you ask me, the one

to look out for is that bloke.

I wouldn't trust him

as far as I could spit.

There will be more news

in the next hour,

so please stay tuned.

Shortly,

Clarence Ball will be with you

for the daily sporting news,

but, first, a musical interlude.

(classical music)

Now, before you say anything,

Archibald...

Thank goodness you're here.

I need you on this case.

Collins can't handle this alone.

Is this Jack Robinson speaking

or are you still incognito?

You want me to ride shotgun

over Hugh?

I wish you wouldn't put it

quite like that.

- You could ask nicely.

- Want me to beg?

- This may never happen again.

- Please.

I'm stuck here

keeping an eye on things.

Not a very keen eye. Someone was

killed at 6:40pm, to be precise.

I was reporting

to Commissioner Hall last night.

Four radio stations

from Melbourne and Sydney

have been shut down

in the last six months.

They've been robbed, vandalized

or set alight.

Well, we both know

who has the most to lose,

with radio taking off.

Newspapers. Why buy a newspaper

if you've already heard

the headlines on the wireless?

But you suspect an inside job?

Clarence Ball. Foley man,

piano player, sports presenter.

Left radio station 3XL one week

before it burned to the ground

after a series

of menacing phone calls.

Suspiciously good timing.

...for you today. Let's look at

the Corroborree Maiden first...

And in the seventh, my pick is

Paschal Vaya, number two.

And in the eighth,

we're looking at number five...

Clarence Ball's On The Track.

I've heard a lot about this.

What's so remarkable

about these tips?

Not very good odds,

some of them.

I'm with you. These are just

all the favorites.

The barman at the pub's making

a packet out of this bloke.

Col swears by him.

Tune in this afternoon

at the usual time

for Hall Of Fame,

your chance to guess

our Mare of the Moment.

No. We're missing something

with this joker.

Results of the last race

came in on the wire at 6:55,

then the station closed

at seven.

- So you were the last to leave?

- That's right.

Jimmy and Hazel left at 5:30

to go to a... fancy awards do.

Looks like Mrs Creswick has

really made 3JH a success story.

Best Female Talent

on Melbourne radio.

You'd be surprised

how many punters

tune in to my sporting news,

even more to my live race calls.

But you haven't been at

the station for long, have you?

- Where were you previously?

- Radio 3XL.

I had quite a following

there too.

That station closed down,

didn't it? A fire, I believe.

Before my time.

Difference of opinion.

Back to Miss Singleton.

What time did she leave

the office last night?

She made me a cuppa

before my shift

and then there was

no sign of her

when the evening session

finished at seven.

What was Louisa working on?

Jingles, ideas for shows,

stories.

I told her

it was a complete waste of time.

Hazel made damn sure she wrote

every word that went to air.

She didn't think Louisa

was up to the task?

Well, you'd have to ask

Hazel that.

Did they ever disagree,

to your knowledge?

Hazel's been

a bit tricky lately.

Louisa wouldn't be the only one

she's crossed swords with.

You'd better cooperate, Archie.

Jimmy already thinks you did it.

What?

You are behaving

very suspiciously.

Clarence obviously had the

opportunity to murder Louisa.

He could have easily slipped

out of the studio

in a musical interlude.

Hazel and Louisa didn't get on.

- Creative competition.

- (door opens)

Have you seen

our running order anywhere?

We're in such a mess

without Louisa.

JIMMY: Here it is.

Oh, thank goodness.

Perhaps Dot could be

of some help.

That would be wonderful.

I'll show you

what needs to be done.

So, do the police

have any ideas?

Could be anyone. You know

the type who hang around here.

Like who?

That bloke from

the newspaper stand for one.

Louisa always complained

about him waltzing in here

whenever he felt like it.

I only wish

I'd taken more notice

and done something about him.

- There you go.

- Thanks, cobber.

Argus, thanks.

So, you knew Louisa pretty well?

I'd hoped to know her

even better.

I asked her to go dancing

a couple of times.

- She turned you down?

- Only twice.

I was still in with a chance.

I could tell by the way she used

to like to tick me off.

I saw her last night too.

She bought a bun from me.

Said she was going back to work.

Maybe you should tell the cops.

No, I'm not getting mixed up

with the cops,

and it won't bring Louisa back.

- Hooroo.

- Get your papers here! Paper!

Are you sure there's nothing

we've missed, Hugh?

She wanted to marry

that bloke in Perth,

but she had her heart set

on radio.

Yes, Louisa, she...

she left school at 15, like me,

but she was always smart.

Well, you must be smart too,

assisting a lady detective.

(chuckles)

Rightio, let's test you.

Guess this bird.

(honks)

- I give up.

- That is the black swan.

The official bird

of Western Australia.

But I made you smile, didn't I?

Deeply affected by your

colleague's passing, are you?

What's your problem, Constable?

I've told you everything I know.

HUGH: Why didn't you hear

any disturbance in the alley?

There could have been

heavy mortar fire outside

and I wouldn't have heard

a thing.

That studio

is completely soundproofed.

Help! Constable, help, quickly!

Oh, Jimmy!

Stay back, Hazel.

Don't touch it!

- What happened?

- The microphone. I got a shock.

- Stand back, please.

- We need to turn off the power.

There's a fuse box in the hall.

- All clear.

- Is there a first-aid box?

- It's fine. I'll be all right.

- They tried to get you.

They're gonna knock us all off,

I know it.

The same thing happened at 2WA.

I'm sure it's nothing more

than a silly accident.

- Tell her, Miss Fisher.

- I'd like to agree, but...

The wires have been

deliberately frayed.

HUGH: No, sir.

Inspector Robinson prevented

the electrocution himself, sir.

Yes.

Yes, sir.

No, I'll pass on the message.

Thank you, sir. Right away.

Looking right at home there,

Hugh.

In your haste to follow

the inspector's orders,

you left Louisa Singleton's

notebook behind.

Ah, thank you, miss.

How did that happen?

Since we're here, we thought

you might need some help

going through Louisa's things.

- The inspector's secret stash?

- Miss...

Well done, Hugh.

Mm, delicious.

Packet of matches, thanks.

And...

this came for you.

- Special delivery.

- Thanks. Been expecting that.

Paper!

Look at this. Why would Louisa

buy an interstate train ticket?

An overnight sleeper to Sydney

booked for next week. No return.

DOT: Clarence Ball said Hazel

didn't like

any of Louisa's ideas,

but this is

the Polkinghorns episode

they played this morning.

Maybe she was just

transcribing for Hazel.

Look. It says, "Written by

Miss Louisa Singleton."

If all of those stories

were Louisa's ideas

and Hazel was taking

all the glory,

I don't blame her

for trying to leave.

That radio awards night,

it didn't begin until 7pm,

but the Creswicks

left the studio at 5:30.

That's plenty of time

for a detour.

We need a quiet word with Hazel,

a casual tête-à-tête.

Bring the car around, Dot.

(simple jingle)

HAZEL: Tea for two.

What better after a woman's

long day of household toil

and a man's daily battles

with the world

than a steaming brew for two

of Tilley's tea,

to celebrate hearth and home...

no matter who comes calling.

Or prepare for an evening

of loving companionship

with the little ones

tucked safely in bed.

Tilley's tea,

proud sponsor of 3JH Radio,

is made for relaxation

and rejuvenation, just for you.

Tilley's tea is tip-top tea

from the very best tips

to your teapot.

If I could borrow

that typewriter, Hugh,

I could type

these notes up for you.

Thanks, Dottie.

You know

if I do well in this case,

it means that I'm one step

closer to a promotion,

which means

we can afford to get married.

And then wise-cracking

bird impersonators

won't be so free and easy

when you're Mrs Hugh Collins.

How are we going to tell

your mother, Hugh?

I don't care.

We'll get married in

a Catholic church. I'll convert.

But that would

break your mother's heart.

I'm sure if we tell Miss Phryne,

she'll help us find a solution.

Well, can't we

work it out ourselves?

That's what we're gonna have to

do when you don't work for her.

Pardon?

Once we set a date

and you give notice,

Miss Fisher's gonna

have to do without you.

Without me? Give up my job?

Right.

Dot.

Oh, Mr Creswick.

I was expecting your wife.

Hazel sends her apologies, but

she wasn't up to the car trip.

You thought

Miss Williams could help out

with some of our typing.

- I'd be happy to help.

- Thank you, Dot.

While you're here,

if you don't mind,

I would like a quiet word

about Louisa.

Of course.

It seems she dedicated

most of her evenings

to writing for radio,

but nothing of hers

has been to air?

Louisa was very ambitious,

but she had no training

as a writer.

And she was needed far more

as a typist.

Hazel only writes in longhand.

Then how do you explain this,

this morning's episode

word for word

in Louisa's personal notebook?

Really?

Well, perhaps she copied it

from one of Hazel's scripts

for some reason,

to learn from or...

Plagiarism?

I hope that's not what it was.

Could that be

why Hazel argued with her?

Any arguments they had couldn't

have been more than a tiff.

We work in very close quarters

and disagreements

are bound to happen.

Did Louisa mention

that she had any travel plans?

Not that I know of.

But Hazel was very reliant

on her,

and if she were

about to move on,

that would have left her

in the lurch, wouldn't it?

Yes, it would have left us all

in the lurch,

if we'd known about it.

What time

did you and Hazel arrive

at the award ceremony

last night?

I can't be sure.

We were a little late.

Hazel was nursing

one of her headaches

and I had to go on ahead of her.

- So she stayed at home?

- Only for half an hour.

Then she grabbed a cab

and joined me.

It was a wonderful evening.

To start with, anyway,

but it ended sadly for Louisa.

Look, I have to get back

to the station

and check Hazel's

on top of things.

We've already missed one

sponsor's message this morning.

I'd be happy to step in

if it would be of any help.

- I have performance experience.

- Really?

And I need to be

around the station in any case.

Well, I wouldn't want Hazel

to feel displaced,

but at the moment I would

be very grateful, Miss Fisher.

JIMMY: Now a word

from our favorite sponsor.

Ladies, do you scrub

your knuckles raw

to get your husband's shirts

white and bright?

What about the kiddies?

Are their clothes looking

faded and second-rate?

Well, then,

you really should try

new Flamboyance washing powder.

(plays piano)

♪ Ladies, listen to the news ♪

♪ No more

Monday morning blues ♪

♪ Just one scoop

of Flamboyance ♪

♪ And through your washing day

you'll dance ♪

♪ Flamboyance, Flamboyance ♪

♪ Just a little Flamboyance ♪

- (piano string snaps)

- Damn.

A brief tune, then it's news on

the hour with Archibald Jones.

Popped a string.

But bravo, Miss Fisher.

We make a wonderful team.

We should get cozy.

I'm quite cozy enough,

thank you.

Oh, hello.

Can I help you?

- Evening edition.

- Oh.

Bloody awful, what happened

to Louisa. She was a real gem.

Tell Clarence his paper's here.

He needs it for his racing show.

- Hello, Dot.

- Well done, miss.

You sounded just like

the real thing.

Thank you.

Our delivery man

seemed quite particular

that Clarence

get his newspaper, didn't he?

A betting tip.

Race six, Glory Girl.

(gasps)

I thought that fish was dead.

It's a new one, a present.

I know how upset Mrs Creswick

was about poor Oswald, so...

- That's very kind of you.

- It wasn't any trouble.

You really are a treasure, Dot.

I don't know what I'd do

without you.

Nor I without you, miss.

I just heard

the end of that broadcast.

What do you think you're doing,

Miss Fisher?

Hazel, Hazel,

if you'll just let me explain.

I asked Miss Fisher

to step in for us.

In that case,

I suppose I should thank you.

Not at all.

You can be so determined

to carry on sometimes, my love.

Are you sure you don't want me

to shell the peas, Mr Butler?

No, no, I enjoy podding peas.

It's very satisfying.

Mm.

And Miss Fisher relies on you

for a lot more

than just her evening meal.

We all help where we can

under this roof,

but you are her right-hand woman

at all hours

of the day and night.

Yes, I... I try to be

her girl Friday.

But that wouldn't be possible

if I lived anywhere else,

would it?

Not something I even want

to consider, Dorothy.

We need the radio. We've got

a date with a horse race.

Well, you can't just

come in here

and take over the wireless

whenever you please.

It's a job, Dottie. Look.

Miss Fisher asked us to keep an

eye on this horse. Glory Girl.

We told her she's a joke.

That nag ran last all season.

All right, then, one race,

but I warn you,

Miss Fisher has company,

constabulary company.

This guy's actually there,

Dottie, like he's at the track.

Up some bloody tree, I bet,

so the newspapers

don't lynch him

for stealing their thunder.

BALL: They're lining up

for race six in the Rowlands.

Second on the outside

is my tip for a win,

number four, Bedazzler.

I thought Glory Girl

was his favorite.

...number 12, Sonny Jim.

And last on the outside

is number 14, Glory Girl.

- And it's a wet track here...

- She hardly rated a mention.

I feel like I'm at the bookies'

circle in Flemington.

- Turn it down.

- One more chance at today's...

You're lucky

we haven't got a bet on.

Foaled on 7th July, 1926,

and she is still

going strong...

- Just get on with it.

- Shh.

7th July, 1926.

Who told Hazel Creswick

I should diversify into singing?

I'm not sure, but it certainly

is a wonderful suggestion.

I'm glad

my feeble undercover attempt

provides you with amusement.

I look for joy

in all the dark places, Archie.

So, someone's paying Clarence

Ball large amounts of cash

and Dodger looks like

the go-between.

He seemed quite at home letting

himself into the station,

but odd that he only offered up

one tip in all those races.

Perhaps Glory Girl

is an instruction

for the next act of sabotage.

Glory Girl could be

Hazel Creswick.

MAN: No!

She won. That bloody useless nag

won by four lengths.

Hello, Bert.

Miss Fisher. Inspector.

- Albert.

- Glory Girl won that race.

Definitely a genuine tip.

Not that that Clarence bloke

mentioned it on the radio.

No, not even close.

More interested in rabbiting on

about his Hall Of Fame

mystery horse.

Maybe it was a real tip.

And the money has more to do

with the racetrack

than sabotage.

Louisa may have stumbled on it

and paid the price.

I'll have Hugh

haul both of them in.

So, Dodger,

your real name is John Lockhart.

Any relation to Neddy Lockhart,

notorious racehorse trainer

and standover man?

He's my uncle. So what?

Glory Girl, a horse you circled

in the newspaper,

came in for a win

at 20-1 in race six today.

Perhaps we should talk

to your Uncle Ned about that.

He's got nothing to do with it.

I just keep my ear

to the ground.

If you don't want us

to pay him a visit,

tell us about Clarence Ball and

his involvement in all this.

I pass my tips on to Clarry.

He puts them on the air.

He's got some special code and

punters pay to get a hold of it.

That's it.

PHRYNE: Mr Ball,

we're very interested

in your daily

Hall Of Fame segment.

Please, call me Clarry.

No, thank you.

Now, your mystery horse today,

what was the clue, Constable?

Foaled 7th July, 1926.

Seventh letter

of the alphabet, G,

and then the seventh month,

another G, 1926.

- Race six, Glory Girl.

- Very clever.

- So you're running a book?

- No.

Dodger sells my code to

the punters from the newsstand.

I then broadcast the tip

before the race.

If punters want to put some

money on, that's their business

and if Dodger wants to pay me

cash, that's his business.

So you met up with Dodger

last night?

No. He wasn't there

at the usual time.

- He paid me today.

- What time do you usually meet?

After the show, around seven.

Last night I flashed the lights

to signal for him to come up,

but he didn't make it, so

I gave up on him and went home.

A witness told us you sold a

cinnamon bun to Miss Singleton.

What time was that?

About quarter past six.

- And what did you do after?

- Not much.

Tidied up, locked the stall,

walked home.

What about your nightly meetings

with Clarence Ball?

I'd spent the takings.

I put some bets on.

I didn't have it to give to him,

so I put him off.

Did you go anywhere near the

radio station later that night?

No.

I'll leave him to you,

Constable.

Archibald Jones is taking me

out on the town for the evening.

- Have you seen her injuries?

- No.

I've been too busy

announcing missing sheep

and the price of apples.

But you do it so well, Archie.

JACK: The coroner's report

suggests strangulation

as the cause of death.

Have you seen these notes

on the stomach contents?

Newspaper. Shreds found

in the victim's mouth as well.

Page 5, to be precise.

Our newspaper seller is looking

more and more interesting.

Or Louisa had

strange dietary habits.

Clarence said

she often worked late

and bought something to eat.

Except this is no ordinary fork.

Look.

JACK: Could have been caught

in a drawer.

It's too even.

This fork has been

especially modified.

For what?

We'll have to return

to the studio to find out.

Remind me to bring you

on my next break-in.

- You're really quite useful.

- Thank you.

Sorry. I was just trying

to steady you.

Steady me any time, Inspector.

This looks hopeful.

More racing tips?

Nothing in the sports pages.

Stop, stop.

There's a page missing.

Page 5, to be precise.

Louisa obviously had this

well hidden for a reason.

And whoever she confronted

with it...

- Made her eat her words.

- (door opens)

Quick, Jack.

Lost him.

Look.

Same as the empty pack I found

at the crime scene yesterday.

- Look at the lid.

- Dodger.

I saw him with the same pack

at the newsstand.

Looks like he's our arsonist.

A week of tips like this

from that Dodger character,

you think how many beers

that's gonna buy us.

Forget the beer. We'll be rich

enough to buy the whole pub.

How do you like that? Customers

could be waiting out here.

What are you two doing here?

Buying a paper.

No law against that.

- Where's Lockhart?

- Who?

John Lockhart.

People call him Dodger.

Never heard of him.

Oi, he's in here!

There were black fingerprints

all over the site of the fire.

The door, the bin.

It's newsprint.

Confirmed as

John "Dodger" Lockhart.

Looks like you found

your saboteur.

You can finally

blow your cover, Archie.

- But who murdered Dodger?

- And why?

If there's another killer

at large,

perhaps Dodger

didn't kill Louisa.

But I suspect he was there

that night at the radio station.

I agree. You said Dodger knew

Louisa was heading back

to the radio station.

If he waited to check

the coast was clear

before his meeting

with Clarence,

he could have witnessed a murder

rather than committed one.

And now he's paid the price.

And this...

...belongs to Hazel Creswick.

I recognize it from yesterday.

She may not be as helpless

as she seems.

I still doubt she's capable

of either murder all on her own.

Perhaps both the Creswicks

conspired.

It's almost time for my finale.

I'll meet you

at the radio station.

JACK: ...and almost everything

in between.

Plenty of good fishing available

right across the bay.

And now for Victoria's weather.

A low system will deepen

over the Bight waters, then...

move... move north of the state

and weaken.

And now

for some modern music from...

(classical music)

...Beethoven.

Archie, what are you doing?

You didn't finish the weather.

Consider this my resignation.

Did I leave my water?

I came up...

- Archie. You're a policeman.

- Detective Inspector, in fact.

It's not Archie.

It's Jack Robinson.

They passed me over as

a newsreader for a bloody cop!

Now, Mr and Mrs Creswick,

I must ask you to accompany me

to the station

to answer some questions about

the death of John Lockhart,

otherwise known as Dodger.

I already told you it's mine.

I wondered where I'd lost it.

How do you explain it being

found inside the newsstand?

I have no idea,

but I usually take one off

when I answer the telephone.

Ask anyone. Ask Jimmy. He'll

tell you where I was last night.

Collins. Collins!

Bring Mr Creswick through.

- He doesn't believe me.

- It's all right, my love.

We were home all evening.

We ran through our lines

for the next day,

ate dinner, went to bed.

Anyone could have picked up

Hazel's earring.

Why would the murderer

try and implicate your wife?

How should I know?

You're the fancy detective

who's been spying on us.

If you can't work out what's

going on, what hope have we got?

Some information's

just come through

that you might like to hear.

Mr Creswick, if you'd like

to wait outside with your wife.

I don't know how I'm gonna get

through the show today, Jimmy.

We'll manage, my darling.

We always do.

You haven't abandoned us too,

have you, Miss Fisher?

You will still play

Guinevere today?

I wouldn't miss it

for the world.

The coroner just telephoned

to confirm

the latest victim

was strangled with heavy wire,

possibly piano wire.

Clarence broke a piano wire

at the station yesterday.

How do you explain the earring?

An attempt to frame Hazel?

There was no love lost

between her and Clarence.

Perhaps we'll know more

when we find our missing page 5.

Check with Archives, Collins.

- Oh, Dot. Good.

- I came as fast as I could.

- What did you need me to do?

- I'm due on air.

I need you to take more evidence

to the police station for Hugh

while I recount

my Tuscan escapades.

Poor Oswald II.

Mrs Creswick will be devastated.

Yes.

One dead goldfish is unfortunate

but two points to foul play.

Miss Fisher would like

the police laboratory

to test the water and Oswald.

For what?

She thinks someone might have

put something in his water.

The man at the pet store

told me to clean his bowl out,

but I forgot.

Oh, Dottie. It's not your fault.

- It's not that, Hugh.

- Why don't you stay here?

I'll go get a jar

to test the water.

- I'll be back.

- Hugh, it's not about the fish.

It's about us.

I didn't think

what it would mean.

- What?

- Marriage, a wedding.

I want to be with you, Hugh,

I do...

but I want to work

for Miss Fisher too.

Well, that wouldn't be right,

you working,

not when

you're Mrs Hugh Collins.

I know.

Dottie, what are you doing?

I don't know what I want.

What is this?

No! Dottie, wait. Dottie!

JACK: What's going on, Collins?

We...

We've had another murder, sir.

I meant Miss Williams.

I always thought, sir, that

when Dottie and I set a date,

assuming she agreed, she'd stop

working for Miss Fisher

and make a home for us both.

I thought she'd be happy to.

But now it seems that

she doesn't wanna stop working

and she's not happy.

What you're experiencing,

Collins,

is the paradox

of pursuing a modern woman.

Dottie's a modern woman?

She's been living with one for

a while. It's bound to rub off.

At first Valerio was lovely,

but then he locked me in a

dungeon under his Tuscan castle.

Fortunately,

I managed to persuade the guard

to smuggle me out

through a secret passage.

Oh, my. How brave our daughter

is. Don't you agree, Ursula?

I wouldn't say brave.

Plucky, maybe. Resourceful.

It wasn't a very secure dungeon,

and I'm not sure that I should

tell you everything about...

the guard.

Guinevere, we are truly relieved

to have you...

Well, my dear,

we are very grateful

to have you home again

safe and sound.

Perhaps a cup of tea

to celebrate.

- (whistles)

- And... a song!

(music plays)

Why didn't you tell me

you were so ill?

I'm not, Jimmy.

It's just nerves.

Thank you, Miss Fisher.

I'll take her home.

- The doctor can see her there.

- No, Jimmy, please.

I don't need a doctor.

I need to finish the broadcast.

No, you don't. Come on.

(sighs)

Did you hear the broadcast, Dot?

The Polkinghorns came to

another abrupt ending today.

Yes, miss.

What on earth's the matter?

Hugh proposed.

He wants to announce it

so we can set a date.

- That's wonderful news.

- No, it's not.

If I marry Hugh, I won't be able

to work for you anymore.

Oh, Dot.

I won't go

on investigations with you

and take notes

and improve my typing

and go motoring with you

in the Hispano.

Dot. You hate motoring with me.

Yes, but I love everything else

and all that will end because...

that's the way Hugh sees it

and that's the way things are

for married women, miss.

That doesn't mean that's the way

things have to stay.

(doorbell rings)

Special delivery.

Louisa's last meal.

Thank you, Jack.

You know, I think

I'm gonna miss Archie Jones.

Did you choose

that name yourself?

- It did suit your gold tie.

- Just look at page 5.

Births. Bereavements.

A lost Pomeranian in Elwood.

What made this page

so special to Louisa?

Collins suggested Miss Williams

might have more luck.

Really?

I'll give it to her immediately.

Dot has been

rather upset lately.

Hugh hasn't spoken to you,

has he?

He did seek my advice, yes.

And what did you tell him?

That, I believe, is confidential

police information.

Like this.

JACK: Cause of death

of two goldfish: thallium.

It's found in rat poison.

Odorless, colorless

and dissolves in water.

Hazel drinks

a great deal of water.

Thallium also causes hair loss.

It'd have to be a low dose

for the victim to lose their

hair, otherwise they just die.

So Hazel's being poisoned,

slowly and carefully?

- The poisoner's poison.

- DOT: Miss!

Miss, I found it!

I found the clue.

It can't just be a coincidence.

From the beginning, Dot.

Public Notices.

In Memoriam. Here.

"Redpath, Guinevere.

1895-1925."

"Sadly missed.

Tragically killed in Perth."

"Fondly remembered for her

Twilight Melodies broadcast."

"Justice will prevail."

Guinevere was the name Louisa

used in the Polkinghorns.

Louisa lived in Perth

for a year.

So she could have known

this Guinevere.

But why would she hide

this notice?

(knocking)

- Mrs Creswick, come in.

- Thank you.

Hazel, you're not well.

Please will you fill in again

for me, Miss Fisher?

I'm not up to it,

as you can see.

Come into the parlor.

Make sure she stays here.

I'll have Hugh hunt up the file

on Guinevere Redpath.

I'm happy

to help you out again, Hazel,

but only if you let me take you

to hospital as soon as I'm done.

I'm not sure you realize

how ill you are.

No. I'm all right. I have to be.

I'm moving to start my new job

next week.

That ticket to Sydney, it wasn't

Louisa's, it was yours.

The new

national broadcasting service,

they're gathering presenters

from all around the country

and they want me.

That's quite an honor.

Congratulations.

But I couldn't leave 3JH

in the lurch,

so I was training Louisa

to take over.

She booked the ticket for me.

Hazel, have you ever heard of

a Guinevere Redpath from Perth?

Or Twilight Melodies?

It's a radio show.

No, but you could look

in our archives.

Louisa was in charge

of cataloguing them.

Dot, look after Hazel.

I'm due on air.

A Mrs Guinevere Redpath,

soprano on Radio 6KB's

Twilight Melodies.

Discovered dead in her bed

at 27 Kent Street, Cottesloe,

aged 30.

- And the police inquiry?

- Inconclusive, sir.

They were never able

to interview

her husband of five years,

a Mr Harry Redpath,

a wireless technician.

Harry Redpath

could have killed his wife,

caught a train to Melbourne,

changed his name.

You think he's

Louisa Singleton's killer, sir?

And Hazel Creswick's poisoner.

Why haven't you told Mr Creswick

about the job opportunity?

It's such exciting news.

Miss Williams, have you ever

loved a man so much

you'd sacrifice your freedom?

Jimmy taught me everything

I know about radio.

He made me and he adores me,

but he won't let me

do anything on my own.

He won't let me have any money,

he won't let me drive

or go anywhere without him.

I feel like I'm suffocating.

Could you play this next?

Special request.

Do I get one in return?

Save your breath, Clarry.

Your charms are lost on me.

Liar.

And now a very special treat,

a taste of the past,

Twilight Melodies.

(gentle classical music)

JIMMY:

Good evening, music lovers.

Welcome to "Twilight Melodies"

with Harry and Gwinny Redpath.

Jimmy.

Where is my wife, Miss Fisher?

I have no idea.

She'd better be here soon.

(gentle classical music)

Perhaps the poison

slowed her down.

Louisa found you out,

didn't she, Harry?

Remembered your voice

from her time in Perth.

And then Guinevere's memorial

notice jogged her memory.

She put Guinevere's name

into the script

to see how you'd react

and ordered that old recording

just to make sure.

You're not going anywhere

until Hazel gets here.

- I want her now.

- PHRYNE: Why?

So you can kill her

like you killed your first wife?

- JIMMY: Be quiet.

- You're not gonna shoot me?

What would be

the point in that?

- I'm calling the police.

- You left your wife at home...

Sir, Dot's on the telephone.

Miss Fisher's in trouble.

You came back here to the studio

to poison her again,

but Louisa

caught you in the act.

This is you.

You dragged her body outside.

Clarence couldn't hear

any of it.

You continued on

to the awards night

as if nothing had happened,

and poor old Dodger saw it all.

You realized he witnessed the

murder, so you killed him too.

You're not moving

until Hazel

walks through that door.

She defied me,

and if I can't have her,

no one will.

I will kill her.

And I'll kill you too,

Miss Fisher.

What have you done?

You'll get the same as Louisa!

Miss Fisher?

Hope you enjoyed the show, Jack.

Constable, get him up.

Harry Redpath,

you're under arrest

for the murders

of Guinevere Redpath,

Louisa Singleton

and John Lockhart.

And the attempted murder

of Hazel Creswick.

You took your time.

(lively jazz)

Might wanna put this back on?

But how will we

solve everything?

It's a paradox, Dottie,

a problem

that takes time to solve.

Time for me

to understand the modern woman.

So you're happy

for a long engagement, then?

I'm happy.

Me too.

I would like to propose a toast.

You too, Mr Butler. I insist.

To two of the dearest people

I know.

To Dot, my Rock of Gibraltar,

my strong right hand.

And, of course, to Hugh,

that purveyor of quiet yet

irresistible constabulary charm.

To Dot and Hugh!

ALL: Dot and Hugh.

- Yes, yes, of course.

- Mr B.

So, Archie, looks like

it's back to your old life.

Don't stop because of me.

♪ We're all alone

No chaperone ♪

♪ Can get our number ♪

♪ The world's in slumber ♪

♪ Let's misbehave ♪

♪ There's something wild

about you, child ♪

♪ That's so contagious ♪

♪ Let's be outrageous ♪

♪ Let's misbehave ♪

♪ You know my heart is true ♪

♪ And you say you for me care ♪

♪ Somebody's sure to tell ♪

♪ But what the heck

do we care? ♪

♪ They say that bears have

love affairs and even camels ♪

♪ We're merely mammals ♪

♪ Let's misbehave ♪

♪ We're merely mammals ♪

♪ Let's misbehave ♪