Original subtitles

♪ On the first day of Christmas

my true love sent to me ♪

♪ A partridge in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the second day

of Christmas ♪

♪ My true love sent to me ♪

♪ Two turtle doves and

a partridge in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the third day of Christmas

my true love sent to me ♪

♪ Three French hens,

two turtle doves ♪

♪ And a partridge

in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the fourth day

of Christmas

♪ My true love sent to me ♪

♪ Four calling birds,

three French hens ♪

♪ Two turtle doves and

a partridge in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the fifth day of Christmas

my true love sent to me ♪

♪ Five gold rings ♪

♪ Four calling birds,

three French hens ♪

♪ Two turtle doves and

a partridge in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the sixth day of Christmas

my true love sent to me ♪

♪ Six geese a-laying,

five gold rings ♪

♪ Four calling birds,

three French hens ♪

♪ Two turtle doves and

a partridge in a pear tree ♪

Mac's a marvel on skis,

aren't you, Mac?

I must be if you're impressed.

She was once clocked going

downhill at 30 miles an hour.

- Ha! Thirty?!

- You should try it.

My own pace will be

quite hectic enough, thank you.

What with organizing

Christmas in July

and finalizing

the sale of the mine...

Nicholas assures me

he's got all the paperwork

but these things

can be complicated.

Nicholas Mortimer was

Uncle Edward's business partner.

- Junior.

- Naturally.

What about you, Dot?

Fancy a lesson?

Yes but... where are the brakes?

Why on earth

would you want to stop?

But meanwhile,

the alps are calling!

(yodeling)

Here we are.

My word, it is cold!

Yoo-hoo!

We've arrived!

It's awfully quiet.

There's usually someone here

to greet the guests.

- Ah! Nicholas!

- Prudence, I'm so sorry.

Have you been here long?

This is my niece,

Miss Phryne Fisher.

- How do you do?

- Phryne, Nicholas Mortimer.

Part owner of the Stanley mine.

And this is

my friend Dr MacMillan

and my companion,

Miss Dorothy Williams.

Yes, yes, welcome. I'm afraid

you'll have to forgive us.

We're... We're rather in shock.

Oh?

Len Fowler passed away

this morning.

Putting up the Christmas tree.

Keeled over.

Fell down the ladder.

Dear Lord!

I'm so terribly sorry!

Our condolences.

We're assuming a heart attack

but we can't get the doctor up

until tomorrow so...

we put his body

in the cool store.

Poor Len. How undignified.

MAN: Mrs Stanley!

Oh, Chester!

How is poor Birdie?

Shattered. She thought

Len was fighting fit.

We all did.

Phryne,

you've already met Chester.

Of course. You used to manage

the mine for Uncle Edward.

Yes, before we had to

shut things down.

My friend Dr MacMillan

is a physician.

Perhaps she could examine

Mr Fowler for you.

It might comfort Mrs Fowler

to know how he died.

Yes, yes, of course.

I must go to her at once.

- She's in her room.

- Thank you.

It's difficult

to determine cause of death

without a full dissection.

Might not go down well

with Len's wife.

Let's start with

the extremities.

Holes in the soles

of his slippers.

- Burn holes.

- And a scorched finger.

Either Len Fowler was

struck by lightning indoors

or he was electrocuted.

This is a holiday.

Must you find murder everywhere?

Mac. You know very well,

murder finds me.

Ho, ho, ho.

Merry Christmas. Quentin Lynch,

Mr Mortimer's secretary.

- Miss Fisher.

- No. No, I'm Dorothy.

Oh.

We're so sorry about Mr Fowler.

These seem

rather inappropriate now.

- Here.

- Thank you.

Oh, uh... Hello.

- You must be Miss Fisher.

- I am.

- Quentin Lynch. How do you do.

- Pleased to meet you.

These are very pretty lights.

Little pears.

Yes, Vera Mortimer

brought those back from Paris.

There seems to be one missing.

Oh.

Perhaps it came out somewhere.

- Ah. Found it.

- NICHOLAS: Quentin.

Have you cleaned the guns

for tomorrow's game shooting?

Not yet, Mr Mortimer.

I'll do that now.

Good man. You'll find the key

on my desk in the room.

Yes, sir.

I hope you don't mind... Chester

has put your car in the garage.

- How thoughtful.

- And your luggage in your room.

Thank you.

Surprise, monsieur!

Miss Jane! Goodness!

We weren't expecting you

for days.

C'est moi!

My ship left Marseilles early.

She telephoned us

to pick her up.

Oh, Jane,

the others have gone away.

They're celebrating Christmas

in July in the mountains.

So much for my surprise.

We'd drive you up there but the

cab, she won't take those rides.

Look on the bright side. You

won't have to see your aunty.

All's not lost. We can have

our own Christmas in July.

Lovely, isn't it.

Mine had seven little swans,

just like the carol.

Mrs Fowler must have laid out

the rooms just before Len...

Len Fowler's death

wasn't all it seems, Dot.

While I have a chat to his wife,

why don't you explore.

See if anything

strikes you as odd.

That won't be very hard, miss.

I gave Birdie Fowler a tonic

to help her sleep.

You didn't happen to ask her

if she knew

who might want to

electrocute her husband?

I'll leave that

delicate enquiry to you.

She'll be knocked out

for a good few hours, though.

Never mind. I have other avenues

to investigate in the meantime.

- Oh, Quentin.

- Enigmatic, isn't she?

Hello again.

Like the Mona Lisa.

William Wordsworth.

The most romantic of poets.

"She was a phantom of delight

when first she gleamed

upon my sight."

"Her eyes as stars

of twilight fair."

"Like twilight too,

her dusky hair."

Very nice.

Well, um...

(phone rings)

Dottie! I thought you were

up in the mountains.

What? In the cool room? Have

the local police been called?

No-one seems to think

it's a problem.

Except for Miss Fisher,

of course,

who thinks it's a murder.

Murder?

Miss Fisher's always right.

Except when she's wrong.

Like when she breaks the law and

someone more important is right.

Oh, Hugh, there's something

about this place that scares me.

Anyway, we arrived safely, Hugh,

so goodbye for now.

Hello there.

- Happy Christmas in July.

- Christmas isn't happy.

Any time of the year.

What was that all about?

Miss Fisher's gone on holiday

again, sir.

Oh. Anyone dead yet?

Only one so far, sir.

(creaking)

Nicholas.

Hello there.

Perhaps you could recommend

some reading material.

I wonder if you might like this.

Wordsworth? It's a little

too florid for my tastes.

Yes, mine also,

but my wife Vera adores him.

The artwork

not to your taste either?

That's a photograph

of the miners.

I took it down because

it upset Vera when we arrived.

These are the poor fellows

who died

in the Christmas Eve

cave-in of 1919.

Len Fowler took the photograph,

actually.

Just before he sent them down

for their last shift.

He was our foreman.

Aunt Prudence never

told me much about it.

That's Ernie Heppenstall,

the union rep.

He was Quentin's uncle.

And beside him Mitch Darcy,

mine engineer.

He was Vera's first husband.

Don't touch that.

Miss Fisher, meet my daughter,

Isobel.

Step-daughter.

Hello.

Is your mother back from her

walk, Isobel?

I wouldn't tell you if she was.

I'm sorry. This trip has rather

stirred things up for everybody.

I'm sure Len Fowler's death

can't have helped.

Hm.

- I thought you'd gone hunting.

- Vera, darling.

This is Prudence's niece,

Miss Phryne Fisher.

Miss Fisher. I was

looking forward to meeting you.

How awful the circumstances

are so tragic.

None of us could foresee that.

I hope you'll join us

for pre-dinner drinks.

- Nicholas and I.

- Yes.

Wonderful.

So do you think we'll be

leaving early now, Doctor?

Not a hope in Hades.

- Dr MacMillan. Vera.

- A pleasure.

I hear you're a keen langlaufer.

I am.

I'm afraid the weather

may not cooperate.

Yes, they're about to close the

road. The storm's here to stay.

I suspect we'll be

snowed in by tomorrow.

- Snowed in?

- It happens from time to time.

But we have plenty of supplies.

And one another for company.

PRUDENCE: Birdie!

Everyone, Mrs Len Fowler.

I've brought stockings.

It's Christmas in July Eve,

after all.

Dear Birdie,

are you sure you should be up?

I will not lie staring at

four walls. I have to keep busy.

Chester, will you fix the hole

in the hen house tonight?

I saw another fox this morning.

Very beautiful.

- Who's Laurie?

- Len always hung a stocking

for poor Laurie.

He was a little boy.

- The mine's youngest victim.

- A child died that day?

He begged his father

to let him go with him

for a Christmas treat.

I can assure you, if Edward

had known that he was there

- he would not have allowed it.

- Neither would I.

Did nobody else

survive the cave-in?

PRUDENCE: Please, Phryne.

It's why Nicholas and I wish

to sell the land and the mine.

To erase those

dreadful memories.

Erase the memories?

As if Isobel and I

could ever forget Mitch.

Oh, of course not. I'm so sorry.

If you didn't want to forget

Dad, why did you marry Nicholas?

Isobel, he's a good man.

VERA: Excuse me.

I hope you're satisfied, Phryne,

with all your questions.

Aunt P!

I wish to sign the paperwork

with Nicholas and Chester

first thing in the morning.

And leave these poor people

to their grief.

(phone rings)

Tu vois? C'était bénéfique

m'envoyer tout ça,

n'est-ce pas?

Let's send you to Istanbul next.

I need to brush up

on my Turkish.

I'm so sorry

you're there all alone.

It's alright. Bert and Cec

are keeping me entertained.

Just a minute.

Hello, miss?

I need you to go to Aunt P's

house and find some documents.

Wait up. I'll write it down.

Anything relating to the cave-in

at the Mount Alexandra Mine.

In particular,

look for any references

to Ernie Heppenstall,

Len Fowler or Mitch Darcy.

(woman screams)

Miss Fisher?

She hung up.

- My goodness!

- PHRYNE: She's gone.

PRUDENCE: Vera!

I saw Nicholas Mortimer

with this book.

Quentin Lynch was reading it

too. He quoted from it.

- This sculpture, it's...

- It's Rodin's The Kiss.

In this case, the kiss of death.

(knocking)

I'll go. You tell the others.

(knocking continues)

- Jack.

- Miss Fisher.

- Nice of you to drop by.

- HUGH: Dot called.

- May we come in?

- Of course!

They closed the road behind us.

So we may be here

longer than we'd planned.

Vera Mortimer.

So how does a sculpture

just fall off a shelf?

It didn't.

Fishing line was threaded

through a hole

in the cover of this book

and then tied to the sculpture.

So once she took the book

off the shelf

it brought the sculpture

down with it

and inflicted a fatal blow

to her head.

I don't understand it. I was

doing some paperwork in my room.

How could this happen?

Vera!

God almighty.

You did it, didn't you?

What?

You killed her, you bastard!

How dare you?! What the hell

are you talking about?!

You can't be trusted!

Stop.

Maybe you should go and check

on your daughter, Mr Mortimer.

- Outrageous.

- Detective Inspector Robinson.

Why did you accuse Nicholas

Mortimer of murdering his wife?

He is not the benevolent man

he pretends to be, Inspector.

And where were you when

everyone else was in the parlor?

I was tired.

I fell asleep in my room.

Why would I want to kill Vera?

I...

You what? Hm?

How well did you know

Vera Mortimer?

Vera and Quentin were lovers.

This was

in the back of the book.

"My phantom of delight,

my soul cries

this wretched night."

"Leave him without further ado,

or with broken heart,

I must leave you."

Mr Wordsworth seems

suddenly restrained.

So Vera Mortimer

was lured to her death

with this love poem.

Both Nicholas and Quentin knew

it was in the Wordsworth book.

So either one of them

could have set up the trip wire.

Nicholas may have found the poem

and murdered Vera for revenge.

And Quentin murdered her

because of thwarted love.

That would do it. Especially if

it's been thwarted long enough.

(thunder)

The fuse box is in the basement

but there's no point.

Weather like this,

the whole grid goes down.

I can see to the generator

in the morning.

But for now I suggest

everyone retire early to bed.

I don't want anyone

taking chances.

So lock your door.

But Jack... If I lock my door,

nobody could get in.

It's too great a risk,

Miss Fisher.

Lock it tight. Good night.

(chickens cluck

and roosters crow)

What is it?

What is all the palaver?

(screams)

Nicholas Mortimer.

Gun didn't leave

much of his face.

I recognize the shoes.

Collins, go inside and take

a statement from Mrs Fowler.

- And check on the other guests.

- Yes, sir.

Saint Etienne revolver.

An 1873 Chamelot-Delvigne.

Nicholas was going shooting

this morning.

Quentin Lynch had the key

to the gun cabinet.

Quentin's scarpered. His room's

empty and his things are gone.

The gun came from here.

At least

the generator's working.

You're here. So why have

your skis gone missing?

Quentin.

I'll bypass the local bloke

and call the Jamieson police.

The police will be able

to send back-up.

Jack.

Dear God!

The car engines are frozen over

so he can't have escaped

by road.

We believe he escaped on skis.

He could be halfway down

the mountain.

I'm an experienced langlaufer.

Let me go and alert the police.

I think I should go.

I don't want anyone

in harm's way.

The conditions

are treacherous out there.

At least with Quentin gone,

nobody else is in danger.

And when the ice has thawed

we can widen our search.

We should try to stay busy.

I'll put carols on.

It'll distract us.

- Izzie, do you want to help?

- Are you insane?

How can you celebrate?

Three people have died.

Including my mother.

And my rotten step-dad.

- Miss Mortimer.

- It's Miss Darcy.

I'm going to my room.

♪ On the first day of Christmas

my true love sent to me ♪

♪ A partridge

in a pear tree ♪

- Turn that off.

- Mrs Stanley. I'm sorry.

Phryne, where did you put

my briefcase?

I need that paperwork signed.

I believe it ended up

in my room, Aunt P.

Well, what use is it there?

- Aunt Prudence, what's wrong?

- I loathe that song.

Why did you bite

poor Birdie's head off?

Because I've heard it

more times than I care to.

- It haunts me.

- Just... stop.

For a moment.

How does it haunt you?

It was that

dreadful Christmas Eve.

Edward and I were staying here

at the chalet.

(muffled male singing)

Edward.

They're singing again.

I swear it.

They're down there, singing

The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Listen.

I heard them, Edward.

They're alive. I know it.

Come on. Come back to bed.

I'm sure it was my mind

playing tricks.

But...

Tell me.

I'm perfectly alright.

Thank you.

No need for that.

How can you?

When there are people

laying dead

all over and under the house.

- Isobel.

- Someone has to pay the price.

For all of it.

Isobel. You're in shock.

Come here.

BIRDIE: Isobel, I didn't

give it to you to cause trouble.

- He's dead. He's been punished.

- ISOBEL: Others haven't been.

What exactly did you mean,

"Others haven't been punished?"

I don't know

what you're talking about.

Isobel, Constable Collins

and Miss Williams

heard you say those exact words.

And do you believe

the kind of people

that lurk behind doors

to listen in?

Isobel, please.

We're trying to prevent

more murders.

It's too late

to prevent my mother's.

No! You're all

as greedy as each other.

Leave me alone.

Isobel.

Look at all this money.

Isobel tried to hide it.

What's that?

"Five gold rings."

I found one similar

beside my bed.

(birdcall)

(birdcall)

Wha--?

(birdcall)

(birdcall)

(screams)

Prudence? Prudence!

Oh, God. OK.

I've got you.

Somebody pushed me.

I thought I'd surely drown.

Luckily I learned how to

hold my breath as a little girl.

By sheer good fortune

I kicked over a milk pail

and that's when Dr MacMillan

came and helped me.

Thank God you're alright,

Aunt P.

(cries) Oh, Phryne!

I was out there checking

on the conditions

when I heard the clatter.

I thought I made it clear

everyone should remain inside.

I'm a doctor. I save lives.

I can't do nothing.

You didn't see the culprit,

did you?

He made himself scarce

before I arrived.

No sign of anyone, sir,

but I found this.

Quentin was wearing that.

He's still here.

Why in God's name

does he want me dead?

What have I ever done

to the wretched fellow?

You own the mine

where his uncle died.

Why now? A decade later?

It doesn't make sense.

Mrs Stanley.

Uh... my powders.

In the side pocket.

Aunt Prudence,

where did you get this?

I found it on my pillow

when we arrived.

We need to secure this place.

I think I've just worked out how

all these murders fit together.

PHRYNE: Jack.

Jack. It's

The Twelve Days of Christmas.

A partridge in a pear tree.

Len Fowler was found

electrocuted under a tree

that was hung

with pear-shaped lights.

Those lights

had been tampered with.

Then I found these

in Nicholas and Vera's room.

"Two turtle doves"

implies lovers.

Vera was killed

with a book of love poetry

and a statue named The Kiss.

"Three French hens."

There were three hens

in the hen house

where Nicholas was shot

with a French revolver.

And "four calling birds"?

Aunt Prudence heard

what she thought

was an injured bird

call four times

and then she was forced

face-down into a bird bath.

So each victim

receives an unsigned card

and then they receive

an untimely death.

- So he must be targeting...

- Everyone.

I received

"Nine ladies dancing".

- And what about Dottie?

- "Seven swans."

This gathering

was arranged weeks ago.

Our killer knew that there were

going to be ten guests and staff

staying at the chalet.

But there are twelve days.

The two police officers at

Jamieson couldn't get through.

Not even a criminal mastermind

could control the weather.

Luckily you two arrived

to make up the numbers.

You didn't find cards

in your rooms?

No.

Collins, check your coat.

"Twelve drummers drumming."

Nothing.

Jack.

"Ten lords a-leaping."

I've got "eleven pipers piping."

I've "eight maids a-milking."

He's going after us all

one by one.

We're sitting ducks!

I tried to warn you all,

now it's too late.

- It's not too late.

- The house is secured.

Just calm down.

But if he's killing us off

one by one, I'm leaving.

- We must all leave.

- The roads are frozen.

- So are the motorcars.

- I'll hike.

JACK: And risk being murdered?

Quentin may have arranged

to see neat numbers for now

but I'm sure if he saw you

he wouldn't hesitate

to kill out of sequence.

We need to stay inside.

Especially Mrs Stanley. No doubt

he wants to finish the job.

- To kill me?

- Yes.

Well, supposing he gets inside.

He won't. The chalet's been

completely secured.

Everyone's inside and the doors

and windows are locked.

Not everyone. Mac's missing.

So is my pistol.

Mac's an experienced

outdoorswoman, Jack.

She's only trying to help.

And risking our lives

in the process. It's lunacy.

Jack!

Mac!

Mac!

Oh, God.

Drink this. Have a drink.

I'll live.

I'm afraid I lost your revolver.

"Six geese a-laying."

What happened?

I thought I'd go cross-country

to Jamieson.

I saw a sign. And then someone

hit me from behind.

Miss Fisher?

Miss Fisher.

Looks like fresh timber.

Couldn't be more than

a couple of weeks old.

I thought the mine was closed

ten years ago.

It was.

JACK: Someone's been

down there recently.

Who could it have been?

CHESTER: Must have been Quentin.

Why would Quentin

reopen the mine?

I have no idea.

Why would he suddenly start

killing people

to the theme of

The Twelve Days of Christmas?

What can you tell me

about the cave-in?

I've never forgiven myself

for not trusting my own opinion.

I didn't want the men

to keep drilling.

But we were getting close

to a new seam of gold.

And I was issued with a report

that said the mine was safe.

But it wasn't.

No.

I stay inside

when it gets cold like this.

I get terrible chilblains.

Would Len have reopened

the mine shaft?

Or Nicholas?

Why are we talking

about a mine shaft?

Shouldn't you be out there

trying to find Quentin

before he kills us all?

Sorry.

With my Len gone

and this madman on the loose

I can't think straight.

Why don't you ask Chester

about the mine shaft?

The Inspector's with him now.

- What did you give Isobel?

- Nothing.

I should go to her.

Poor thing. She's lost

her mother and her step--

Birdie, did you give Isobel

that money?

About six months ago.

Nicholas paid Len and I to...

...to dig some new tunnels.

To get to the gold seam

another way.

Go on.

Well, last week...

we came across what was left

of Mitch and Ernie Heppenstall

and those other poor blokes.

Along with a letter in a tin.

JACK:

"We are trapped down here."

"Ernie tried to warn the boss

the wall was unstable

but he refused to listen."

"We've hauled young Laurie

up to the top in the basket

to send word

that we're still alive."

"And we're keeping

our spirits up

by singing little Isobel's

favorite Christmas song."

Did Laurie ever deliver

his message?

All we heard was he'd died.

Nothing about

the rest of them being alive.

BIRDIE: Later that night

there was a second collapse.

It sounded like

an explosion to me.

Len noticed

some gelignite was missing.

Are you suggesting

those men were murdered?

(thunder)

Did either of you

ever inform my uncle?

No.

Len wasn't sure

who was responsible.

He was scared of losing his job.

I'm not proud of what we did.

But we've been doing it tough.

Len threatened to tell Mrs

Stanley we'd found the gold seam

if Nicholas didn't let us

take half for ourselves.

Isobel tried to blackmail him

about the past with a letter.

That £200.

Nicholas gave it to you.

Mother and I

deserved that money.

Father died down there that day

when he could have been saved.

Mitch Darcy and the other men

lived through the first cave-in.

You did hear singing.

(sighs)

I thought

I was imagining things.

The first collapse

trapped the miners.

But it was the second one,

perhaps deliberate,

which killed them

and guaranteed their silence.

Did Uncle Edward ever mention

young Laurie

delivering a message?

No. He certainly did not.

Edward might have had to

rely on others

to judge the condition

in the mine.

But if the boy

had said something to him,

he would have told me.

Your uncle

was a fine and decent man.

I'm sorry, Aunt P.

I know you adored him.

But the mine was struggling

and Uncle Edward had to

keep things to schedule.

Maybe he became desperate.

(woman screams)

Miss! Miss!

It's Birdie!

I just found her.

"Eight maids a-milking."

Birdie! No!

The cocoa was poisoned.

He's inside the house.

- Inside? We must get out!

- Miss, we have to go.

No, if we leave now

we'll perish from exposure.

Collins,

get a gun from the cabinet.

Search the reading room

from top to bottom.

Once you know it's safe,

get everybody inside

and lock the door.

And find Chester.

How the hell did he get inside?

Or...

(muffled male singing)

Jack, the shafts. The tunnels

must run under the house.

It's the only way Aunt Prudence

could have heard the singing.

Aunt Prudence heard the singing

in the kitchen by the fire.

Somewhere just the other side

of this wall.

Somewhere here.

Feel this.

It's icy.

That's why the room's so cold.

You should be in the reading

room with the others.

It's not much more

than a ventilation shaft

but it must be how Quentin's

getting into the house.

There are other

sets of keys around.

Nicholas could have easily given

Quentin access to them.

This one should unlock

the hatch.

Jack.

Look at Nicholas' shoes.

Blood.

Eugh.

The toes have been cut off.

To fit into Nicholas's shoes.

This isn't Nicholas at all.

It's Quentin Lynch.

So Nicholas is still alive.

And Quentin has been framed for

the murders he didn't commit.

Go and stay with the others.

And let Constable Collins know

we're going into the tunnel.

Hip flask?

Refreshments.

Stay close.

Is that an order, Inspector,

or are you just scared?

Only of you.

It's the new gold seam!

Miss Fisher? Come back.

It's a dead end.

Could be a tr--

Jack!

You won't get away with this,

Nicholas.

I believe I already have.

- I'm dead after all, aren't I?

- Why did you decide to kill us?

- The gold belongs to me.

- And you're prepared to murder

twelve more people to keep it.

In the unlikely event

that you can't count,

I hadn't actually finished yet.

"Nine... ladies... dancing."

One...

Police revolvers

only hold six bullets.

Happily...

I've come across another.

Nine.

I'm sure you've met Detective

Inspector Jack Robinson.

Why?!

Because your husband robbed me

when he closed the mine.

I wasn't

going to be robbed again.

I should have guessed.

You've always been obsessed

with the gold.

That's what started

this whole damn tragedy.

You knew the quartz was unstable

but you made them keep going

and the wall caved in.

It was an accident.

How could you send

your own men into danger?

That was the least

of his crimes.

He could have saved them.

But he chose not to.

What is it, boy?

- (coughs)

- Get the doctor!

They're... alive.

What? What?!

All of them.

Sh.

It's alright, boy.

It's alright.

The doctor's on his way.

It's too late.

Did the poor lad say anything?

Not a word.

You left my dad there to--

There's no point, Isobel.

The law will do more with him

than you can.

Sh.

So Edward knew nothing

of the other miners.

He kept haranguing me

about you hearing

The Twelve Days of Christmas.

So I stole some gelignite from

Len Fowler and blew them up.

Poor Edward was so distressed

that he closed the mine.

Thereby robbing you

of the share of gold

you thought was rightly yours.

It was mine!

When I finally found it

after all these years

I was not going to be

robbed again.

And so you hatched your plan.

Len. Birdie.

You had reasons

to kill them all.

And you were afraid

Isobel had told Vera

so you killed your own wife too.

PHRYNE: You employed Quentin

as he looked alike.

So you could frame him

for your own crimes

and then disappear

down into the mine tunnels.

Your Twelve Days of Christmas

was an exceptionally cruel jab

at Aunt Prudence.

- And the rest of us?

- For my own amusement.

♪ On the first day of Christmas

my true love sent to me ♪

♪ A partridge in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the second day

of Christmas ♪

♪ My true love sent to me ♪

♪ Two turtle doves and

a partridge in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the third day of Christmas

my true love sent to me... ♪

Under the mistletoe! Kiss! Kiss!

(cheering)

Dear Jane.

It's so lovely to have you back.

If you insist, Mr Butler.

Tide's in, Mr B.

Just the way I like it.

- Mr B.

- Cheers, Mrs S.

Oh. Ahem. Merry Christmas.

Aunt Prudence and Bert.

Oh!

I'll be in it if you will.

Whooaa...

- Hooray!

- (all laugh)

I would have paid admission

to see that.

- Miss Fisher and the Inspector.

- Ooh!

I'm not sure that my kisses

can be compelled

by sprigs of parasitic greenery.

Hemiparasitic.

Of the genus viscum.

I'll take your word for it.

I think it's time

for another song.

Come on, Cec. Deck the Halls.

♪ Deck the halls

with boughs of holly ♪

♪ Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la ♪

♪ Tis the season to be jolly ♪

♪ Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la ♪

♪ Don we now our gay apparel ♪

♪ Fa-la-la,

la-la-la, la, la, la ♪

♪ Troll the ancient

Yuletide carol ♪

♪ Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la ♪

- Cheers.

- Merry Christmas.

- Merry Christmas!

- Merry Christmas, everyone.

♪ Silent night ♪

♪ Holy night ♪

♪ All is calm ♪

♪ All is bright ♪

♪ Round yon virgin ♪

♪ Mother and child ♪

♪ Holy infant,

so tender and mild ♪

♪ Sleep in heavenly peace ♪

♪ Sleep in heavenly peace ♪

♪ Sleep in heavenly peace ♪