All language subtitles for My.Life.Is.Murder.S04E01.720p.WEB.H264

- Oh, 'scuse me. Hi. Can you take a photo of me, please?
- Yeah.

- Thanks.
- Sure.

OK.

Work it.

Workin' it. Yeeees.

- Do a candid one.
- Candid?

Like I don't know you're there.

Right.

Say something funny.
Make me laugh.

I was just going for a
peaceful walk

- Did you get that?
- Sure did.

- All right.
- There you go.

Yeah, OK, these are cute. I just feel
like you're not quite getting it.

Yeah, we'll go again. Sorry, my boyfriend
used to do these, but, um— - He left you?

Yeah. How did you know?

OK, we'll just do a little cute one.
What about that? Three, two, one.

Got it?

- Sure, I did.
- Thanks. - Enjoy.

Hello. You're looking
very pleased with yourself.

Yes, well, walking, Harold
— It's good for the soul.

Wow, 8000 steps — it's not even lunchtime.
- Well, good for you.

- What you got?
- Lulu van der Vorn — rich, socialite, divorcee

was found dead on the
beach at Johnson's Bay.

Lulu was on her way to a perfume
launch party but never showed up.

A couple of early-morning
swimmers found her

blood alcohol was through the roof, but official cause
of death was dry drowning — champagne on the lungs.

- Anything else in her system?
- Nope. The coroner's ruled it death by misadventure,

but several hours before she died
have never been accounted for.

Early morning Pilates class and lunch and a walk
with her friend, Bridget Sandler — works inPR.

As of a couple of months ago,
lived with Lulu as a flatmate.

Around 2, Bridget left to set up the perfume
launch — said she'd meet Lulu there at 7.

We're assuming Lulu went home and got changed,
but then no sign of her until the beach.

- Nothing on camera?
- Vandalising cameras at Johnson's Bay is somewhat of a sport.

Oh! Nudie-rudie Johnson's Bay.

Got it.
- The victim was fully clothed, by the way.

- I don't know, Harry. If it looks like a duck, tastes like a duck...
- Yeah, yeah.

The party girl partied
too hard, right?

I'm afraid I agree
with the coroner.

How come you don't?
- Cos sure it looks, walks and quacks like a duck,

but maybe... it's a cat.

That's a very handsome
cat. Who's this?

His name's Cruz. He's
Lulu's fur child,

and he just inherited
her entire fortune.

- Lucky floof.
- Cruz's appointed guardian —.

Lulu's newish friend,
Bridget Sandler.

Well, somebody
landed on their feet.

Or paws.

I doubt the cat killed his mama.

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The whole fortune — house, money,
everything left to the cat?

It's not so strange. Chowder's
the best person I know.

Yeah, but you wouldn't do that.

Would you?
- Oh, you better get sucking up.

Oh, good boy. Aren't you
just the cutest little button...?

So, what is dry
drowning, exactly?

It's drinking so
enthusiastically

that she inhaled champagne into her lungs.
- Oh.

Vocal cords spasmed,
cut off her airways.

- And she has no history of issues?
- No.

She went straight from Pilates
and power walking to this.

The coroner thinks she
died between 6pm and 7pm,

and she was last seen
around 2 that afternoon?

So that gives us four hours unaccounted for
given that she left her phone at home that day.

But bank statements and receipts
show her last transaction was

two coffees at Compulsion
Cafe at 2.44pm.

So that's three hours
to fill.

You head to the cafe,
see what you can find.

- Wait. What will you do?
- I'm gonna see a lady about a cat.

- Is it amazing?
- Uh...

Yeah.

It looked amazing online.

Oh, I love what Cruz
has done with the place.

So, the cafe staff didn't recognise Lulu
from the photo, so she wasn't a regular,

which is backed up by her bank records — She
only ever made that one transaction here.

It'd be good to know
who she was with.

The one CCTV camera is facing
a car park around the corner.

There's nothing on
the strip of shops.

- See you at home.
- See ya.

- Can I help you?
- I'm here to see the landlord.

You know — the cat.

Bridget, what is PR, anyway?
I've never really figured it out.

Ugh, it's a moveable
feast, doll.

For me, general comms, social
marketing, events, damage control...

- Damage control?
- For high profile people who need negative attention to go away.

- Oh, like Lulu?
- Oh, God, no.

No, she was squeaky clean

all about helping people.

My husband left me six
months ago, took everything.

I never saw it coming.

Then Lulu picked me up, took me
in and put me back together again.

Well, it's quite a
reversal of fortune.

For the record, I had no idea that she would
leave me to look after Cruz and his inheritance.

There he is.

He doesn't like me.

So what happens to the estate
after Cruz uses up his ninth life?

Lulu's favourite animal protection charity
— mm, yeah, the house and everything.

How much did Lulu drink at
lunch the afternoon she died?

Nothing. We were more interested
in water after Pilates and walking.

So you had lunch, you said goodbye about 2,
and that was the last you ever saw of her.

I'm sorry.

It was just a really
great day before, um...

I miss her.
- Oh, that's a nice photo.

Can you send that to me?
- Yeah.

No.

No.

Ooh! That one.

- Are you gonna share what's going on in your brain at some point?
- Zoom in.

Oh, I knew it.

Which translated into normal, colleague-to-colleague,
non-control-freak language means...?

This photo was taken
the same day she died.

Spot the difference?
- Her hair. She's had her hair done.

- Her roots have been retouched.
- Well, three hours is more than enough.

And I don't think Lulu's the
'do it at home' kind of gal.

But we already know there's no bank transaction
with a hairdresser on the day she died.

She could've paid cash.
- Could've, but I'm assuming that Lulu had a regular salon,

so keep looking back.

There it is. Beaumont — $660 in
August, $680 the month before.

- For a haircut?!
- At Beaumont, yes... if they'll accept you as a client.

Look — there's a wait list.

My mum used to give me that exact same
haircut with a pair of scissors and a mixing bowl.

600 bucks? Get out of here.

There's the owner —
Lawrence Beaumont.

Hm... Ah, wait list, you say.

Good luck, Alexa.

We don't do walk-ins.

Well, surely you can
make an exception.

This place comes highly recommended
by my friend Lulu van der Vorn.

- Oh. I'm sorry for your loss.
- Thank you.

- Can I help you?
- She's a friend of Lulu's.

Alexa Crowe.

- Lawrence Beaumont.
- I know.

I don't recall seeing
you at the funeral.

No, unfortunately, I've been
working in Australia, so...

Lulu was my friend and client for over 20 years,
and I don't remember her mentioning an Alexa.

You know, um... a long time ago,

Lulu helped me turn my life around.
- Ohh.

Without her, I would
not be standing here.

And I feel guilty that I never
spent my money here like she always recommended.

There's a four-month
wait for appointments.

Although I do recall there was
a cancellation this afternoon.

Lulu must be working her magic.

I'll see you at 3pm, Alexa.
- See you then. Thank you.

Uh... Where's the loo, please?

The restroom for clients
is through there.

- Well, I guess this isn't the client bathroom.
- No. That way.

You know what, it doesn't suck
to work here, by the looks of it.

Work hard, play hard...
you know how it goes.

I'm Alexa. I'm a friend
of Lulu van der Vorn's.

You knew her.

She was my favourite client.

Ah, so you're the
one responsible.

- What?
- For her lustrous locks.

Uh, uh...

Look, I'd love to hang, but
I'm actually on my break.

I need some food.

'Sustainability and technology
are two of Jett's passions,

'but at heart, he's an artist.

'Jett's revolutionary balayage
technique is an industry game changer.'

- Belly what?
- Balayage.

They sort of paint on highlights
to make it look super natural.

Isn't the point of paying all that money to make
it look like you've actually had your hair done?

So, Jett was Lulu's
stylist or Lawrence?

Maybe they both were. Maybe they were in
a throuple. It's very trendy right now.

We're still talking about
the hairdressers, right?

- Or a love triangle gone wrong?
- Well, whatever it is, Jett is a bundle of nerves.

Oh, hey... run this
through forensics.

I think you'll find it's the same brand
and vintage that was found in Lulu's lungs.

- Where did you pinch this from?
- The salon, of course.

Cos one of these two guys was the
last person to see Lulu alive.

I bet 680 bucks on it.

Have you ever thought of going
dark with a blunt fringe?

So, you and Lulu
went way back, huh?

Clubbing days to start with, then she
became a client and then a friend.

- Thanks.
- Thank you.

And then she cheats
on you with Jett.

- What do you mean?
- Well

you were her stylist, but I happen to know that Jett
did her balayage, which, incidentally, was sublime.

Marketing 101.

Lulu's Insta

check the tag.

Hashtag best balayage
in the biz, mm.

There were 9000 likes.

I hired a balayage king, matched
him with Lulu... Everybody wants it.

Worth his weight
in gold that boy.

I was always her favourite, though.

I guess the police spoke to
both of you when she died.

- Why would they?
- Because one of you must have done her hair for the party that night.

No, not to my knowledge.

- She wouldn't have gone to another salon, would she?
- She wouldn't dare.

You know, it just seems so out of character
— Lulu drinking herself to death on a beach.

Definitely not her style.

I don't know what was going
on for her, to be honest.

Perhaps that Bridget creature
could shed more light.

Oh, you don't like Bridget?

To be honest, I think your
current look is working for you.

See Trinity on the way out.

Steven, the computer has
been freaking out all day.

Yes, yes, I have turned
it off and on again.

Holy— He didn't cut my hair— - No, no, no. No,
no, tomorrow's not gonna work for me, Steven.

I need the system back up today.

Is there an issue
with the invoice?

Now, would
you like to make another appointment?

Don't hold your breath, Trinity.

One day when you're rich, don't forget
I'm the one who gives you extra treats.

Oh. Your hair doesn't
look any different.

No, but on the bright side, the
computer system at the salon is down.

- Oh, want me to take a look?
- Yeah. Tell them that Steven sent you.

- And what would you like?
- Client lists, any comms between Lawrence and Lulu,

Jett and Lulu or all three.

- Hi.
- We don't take walk-ins.

Uh, here for the computer
— Steven sent me.

- Oh, thank God. He said he couldn't get here until tomorrow.
- Yeah, he can't — hence me.

Don't talk to the clients. Don't talk
to the stylists. And don't make a mess.

Now, my next appointment is locked,
but the one after I'm on vacay.

- No problem.
- I don't want anyone to muscle in on my spot.

Can I whisk you away to the Islands with me?
- I'll have to check with my boss.

- OK.
- All right.

See ya.
- See ya!

Have you ever considered
hair modelling?

I'm Jett. I have my competition portfolio
in the staff room, if you'd like to see it.

OK.

Wow, you've won a lot of prizes.

Your milk — oat,
almond, coconut...?

Oh, cow?

OK.

- What's it like working with famous people?
- It's hard work.

- Who's your favourite?
- Um, our list is very, very private.

- Have you ever dated a client?
- Are you coming on to me? - No, I'm just nosy.

Clients are strictly off
limits. My boss would kill me.

Yeah, I feel you. My boss — she's great, and we're
definitely a team — but she can sometimes go rogue.

- Isn't Steven your boss?
- Oh, I moonlight. Don't tell him.

Thanks for showing me your work, but, to be honest,
this place is kind of out of my price range.

Oh, uh, there are
ways around that.

See you soon, I hope.

OK.

Come on.

- Why are you still here?
- Look, this machine is in terrible shape.

- Really?
- Yeah. I'll do my best, OK?

Tell me how amazing I am.

Not only did I download the
'By Beaumont' client list

and some other ridiculously
enormous files,

I had coffee with Jett Hwang.

- Oh, Mr Bag-of-Nerves.
- Mm-hm.

He wants me to be his hair model
and gave me his private number.

- You ask him about Lulu?
- Well, I asked about clients in general.

He wasn't giving anything away. Maybe
he'll gossip once I'm in the chair.

Oh, that's interesting —
Following the password history,

there was a whole lot of access to the
client list, and then the passwords changed.

So someone was having a
sly nosy and got busted.

When was it changed?
- About a week before Lulu died.

Is there any reason that Lulu would be
snooping around in Lawrence's database?

Well, didn't she bring half the
clients to him in the first place?

What would she stand
to gain from that?

What kind of milk did he have?

- Who?
- Your boyfriend, Jett.

Was it oat? - Yes. Why?
- I'm just curious.

OK, I've figured out why
you do that, by the way.

- Do what?
- Keep secrets. You're terrified of being wrong.

As if.

Well, luckily, I'm a sharer.

- 'Sup, bro.
- Oh, I'm exhausted, mate.

Remember that chick I
was telling you about?

Did you go there?

What did the missus and the
boy on the side think of it?

You think Jett was
recording his clients?

Wait, I've heard
that story before.

- Wait, she's back with her husband?
- Well, he's sick now, so what could she do?

Bye-bye a bit of rough.
- The tile guy, right?

No! He came to the house to fix
a leaky roof... and the rest.

And that one too. It's...

Delphine Digs.
- Who?

It's this gossip column
I read — Don't judge me,

but the story about the
missus and the side boy

and all the cash it was taking to keep
everybody separate — that's in here.

And the married woman who dumped the
tradie lover because her husband got sick.

Yes. Read it. It's right there.
- What is this rubbish?

And I knew that my guilty pleasure trash
gossip habit was gonna come in handy someday.

You think Jett is Delphine Digs? Or maybe
Lulu was, and that's why she had to die.

- You know what this means, Alexa?
- Why are you excited?

Our next mission is to unmask
Delphine Digs.

Do you hear that?

Heeey.

Cruz... Hi, pussycat.

Hi.

Cruz —
the man of the house.

Look, I know it's a
bit of an intrusion,

but we have to figure out whether your
mama was selling out her friends, OK?

Do you mind if we look
around?

He doesn't mind.
Cat people.

So you start here, and
I'll start upstairs.

- First one to find Delphine wins.
- Deal.

Bridget sure moved your mama's stuff
down here pretty quick, didn't she?

What's that?

Ahhh.

All right, pussycat.

Right, how do you
spell your name?

Are you 'Cruise' as in Tom?

Are you 'Cruz'... with a Z?

Cat people.

I couldn't find anything on my Delphine
Digs search on Lulu's computer.

I love it when you get that little
frowny thing when you're concentrating.

I'm not concentrating. I'm trying
to block out an annoying voice.

- In your head?
- In my face.

That hurts.

Look, there's no Delphine on
Bridget's computer either.

- Really?
- Oh, it's just a bunch of old work emails.

Ooh, and remember that politician
with the inappropriate texting?

- You'll have to narrow it down.
- Well, Bridget saved his butt.

Look.
- Oh, damage control.

Mm. It must be so interesting working in PR,
but Bridget can't be the gossip columnist.

She doesn't need anyone
to leak her the scandals.

- The scandals come to her.
- Mm.

Now what?

Someone in that house was doing
something bad, and it wasn't the cat.

Cruz?

Puss, puss, puss, puss.

- Miaow.
- What the hell? You scared me.

OK — crazy story.

Someone at Hair By Beaumont has been sending juicy files
full of gossip to an IP address based at your house.

And — now, don't ask
me how I know this,

but that same
gossip is showing up

in some online dross
called Daphne, Delcie...

Delphine. Delphine Digs.

So the famous clients are
recorded without their knowledge,

the file gets sent to you, and you publish it.
- I know it sounds terrible.

Oh, it's a horrible
breach of trust.

- It's just a bit of fun.
- Or a brilliant new way to generate business.

So Delphine publishes something nasty, and
Bridget Sandler, the PR genius, saves the day.

Look, it's dog
eat dog out there.

Everyone's a bloody
influencer these days.

It's messing with
my bottom line.

- Did Lulu find out about your nasty little side hustle?
- No way.

She would've been mortified.
- So who sends you the files?

Come on, don't grow a
conscience on my account.

We have a code, OK? Harmless
people are off limits.

Cheaters, swindlers,
abusers — All fair game.

Did Lulu meet with Jett on
the afternoon that she died?

No. She said she was
going home to get changed.

Bridget...

I know that Jett
Hwang has been here,

in this house,

in her bedroom, even.

Were they lovers?

I don't... I don't know.

So you don't know the gossip
unless somebody feeds it to you.

I'm not getting rich, you know.

Look at me. My landlord
is a cat who I can't find.

And if he's squashed out on a road
somewhere, I'm out on my arse.

- Have you ever seen this guy?
- Mm-hm.

Came in only once
— oat milk latte.

You rock.

Mads, are you on your way
to see your boyfriend?

- Which one? Oh, you mean Jett.
- Ask him if he and Lulu were getting it on.

- Oh, sure. I'll just drop that into the conversation.
- Good.

Want me to ask if he waterboarded
her with champagne as well?

Oh, that's just going too far.

- What are you doing here?
- Oh, you invited me.

I haven't caught you at a
bad time, have I?

Oh, it's, uh, shabby chic meets minimal. It's very hot right now.
- It's temporary.

So where do you want me?

There.

Um, I do charge slightly less in
the salon, and it's cash only.

- I thought you wanted a hair model.
- I do, but I'm a platinum stylist.

So I'm thinking like a
noughties kind of vibe.

Didn't that lady who
died go to Beaumont's?

Uh, we have a few elderly
clients, so quite possibly.

But the gorgeous one
with the balayage.

She and your boss were always
together in the social pages.

Lulu.

Yeah. She and Lawrence
were old friends.

You must really miss her.

We all do. I was her stylist.

Oh, she didn't go to Lawrence?

Lawrence is like the big picture
guy now, but they were tight.

She was just a
really great person.

I thought you said you didn't
sleep with your clients.

Sorry. You just seem
very, um, enamoured.

Do you want a drink before
you start — a cup of tea?

Oh, that'd be
amazing. Thank you.

Uh, I don't have any
animal milk, sorry.

Oh, yeah, oat milk's fine.

- Do you want a biscuit too?
- A biscuit would be amazing, thank you.

Um, hey, where's your bathroom?
- Uh, down the hall, first on the left.

OK, great, thanks.

Ooh, guess what.

- It looks just the same.
- Huh?

- Your hair.
- Oh, yeah. I made an excuse and got out of there.

But get this — Jett is broke.

Doing cash jobs in a tiny flat — it's not very platinum stylist.
- No.

But I looked into his spare room, and
he's recently had a shopping spree.

- Uh-huh.
- So, on the way home, I looked at his bank statements.

And the day before Lulu died, he
transferred his entire savings

to a commercial
property company.

Well, yes, because the stuff in his spare
room — it looked like he was about to

- start his own salon.
- Oh my God, you're so annoying.

But, yes, Jett was
going out on his own.

- But he didn't. And you know why?
- I'm certain you're about to tell me.

Because he was going
into business with Lulu.

Now, who would have a problem

with that?

Hello.

It's a nice evening for a ride.

It's been a long day. I'd like
to get home, if you don't mind.

Did you know that Lulu and Jett
were starting their own salon?

Yeah? No?

If this is a wind-up, it's
extremely distasteful.

The day she died, they
co-signed on new premises.

No. Lulu was my best friend.
She would never betray me.

'Betray' — it's an
interesting choice of words.

And Jett wouldn't do that either. He's
too grateful for the break I've given him.

Well, a grateful mentee is
a wonderful thing to have.

I have a mentee — Madison — and I'm not gonna lie,
if she was to ditch me, then that would hurt a lot.

Like I said, it's
been a long day,

so unless there's
something else...

No.

- My eyeballs hurt.
- Oh?

It's phone footage from the
salon front desk computer.

No wonder it keeps crashing —
Trinity backs up all her crap.

- Well, at least we know that Trinity was definitely at the party.
- And so was Lawrence.

There he is, hogging
many a camera.

Hmm.

Just when I was
beginning to wonder.

Any sign of Jett?
- Not yet.

Keep looking.

Oh, there. Stop!
- I see it — there in the background.

Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom.

Lawrence. Well,
who's he talking to?

Delphine Digs.

By Beaumont — please hold.

For pity's sake. Trinity, this
woman doesn't have an appointment.

Lawrence Beaumont, man of many
secrets — other people's, mostly

recording private conversations
on the work premises,

then selling them
to a gossip blogger.

Classy

So what are you gonna do
about it — tell everyone?

Fill your boots. I've never had any complaints.
And you know why? Because it gives them status.

That's why they pay Bridget Sandler
megabucks to make the gossip go away, right?

So much for valuing
customer privacy.

The door's that way.

By Beaumont — please hold.

Thank you for holding. Hi.

No. I'm sorry, Jett no
longer works with us.

No, he didn't leave any forwarding details,
and even if he did, I'm not allowed to tell.

- Jett got the boot?
- Yeah. We should go find him and see what happened.

Uh, it doesn't take a super hotshot
ex-detective to work it out.

Somebody told Lawrence that Jett was going to jump ship.
- I think you might be right.

- And who might that someone be, Alexa?
- Come on.

Where are we g—? We're
not going to Jett's place.

Oh, no. He wouldn't be there anyway.

Hi, Jett. Sorry
you lost your job.

Jett, this is Alexa.

Sorry. I don't know what this is
about, but I want to be alone.

Today's the day you hand the keys
to this place back, isn't it?

I checked with
the leasing agent.

That's got to be tough.

Jett, can I ask you — why did Lulu
want to go into business with you?

H-How do you know all that?

Lulu wouldn't have told
you. She agreed to not—.

Madison and I help the
police out sometimes

when there's a
question about a death.

You're not in IT?

I don't work for Steven, no.

Why did Lulu betray
Lawrence, her oldest friend?

Business is business.

She saw an opportunity.

I had enough money in my
savings to cover the deposit,

and Lulu was gonna cover the rent,
the marketing, the fit out — all that.

And then she died.

I lost... my deposit,

my life savings,

and a good friend.

Is there any way that Lawrence could've
found out what you two were planning?

Like, might Lulu have
told him for some reason?

Do you really think I would've kept my
job for as long if that was the case?

I'm so sorry.

That is one upset hairdresser.

Reckon you can get on to the police CCTV
database and find out what that camera captures?

- I told you — the car park.
- That'll do.

Will I have to sit and watch it?

It's not gonna watch
itself, Madison.

I don't get why there has to be
collateral damage. Poor Jett.

Walking on eggshells with
potential killers? Yeah, nah.

'Potential' killers, Harry.
Innocent until proven guilty.

- She'll have her reasons.
- Not that she'll tell anyone.

You know, you better
keep your voice down.

She won't hear. She's totally engrossed in
private conversations from the hair salon,

which, incidentally, she
secretly enjoys.

Who wants to go to the beach?

I'm feeling a bit overdressed.

You know, after careful study, we can
conclude that Lulu did not actually die here.

- Oh, we can?
- I got a theory.

Ask me how the body got here.
- I'm not playing your little game, Alexa.

Well, it can't have been by boat
because the rocks preclude boats.

That's what makes it
the perfect nudie beach.

So she was brought here by car, but we have no
evidence of that because there's no CCTV footage.

Or maybe that's what the
killer wants you to think.

No, not more footage. I am losing the will
to live watching footage.

- Oh, come on. You're so good at it.
- Oh...

Oh, it's Bridget.

Hello.

OK.

She wants to meet to
tell me something.

Hey.

So have you found Cruz?

He still hates me.

Well, he's grieving.

He's lost his person, so he doesn't
know where he fits in any more.

OK, well, you got me here.

Heads up — Lawrence
is on the warpath.

'Which former detective
needs to look for crims closer to home?

'Is her "Crowe's" nest'

'$2 million prettier courtesy of embezzlement by
the police detective's jailbird brother Will?'

He wants Delphine to publish it.

Well, he's a bit late to
the party on this one.

Well, that won't stop him beating it up
and spreading it around town, though.

It doesn't worry me, but my brother
has nothing to do with this.

I'm not gonna publish it.

You're trying to
do right by Lulu,

and I want that too.

But I wanted to warn
you in person...

Lawrence is a bitch when
it gets his back up.

Noted.

And hang in there with Cruz.

He needs you more
than he's letting on.

Thank you.

OK, so on this side, we have the
footage from the Beach Rd camera

that's to the left of
the vandalised camera.

And on this side, we have the
footage from the Beach Rd camera

that's to the right of
the vandalised camera.

We sync up the time
codes, et voila.

The ute leaves at 4.03am.

Fast forward both...

And arrives in the second frame at 4:03.22, which
means it takes 22 seconds to get from A toB.

Oh, rewind to see
that car again.

Fast forward.

And 22 seconds — no car.

- And still no car.
- Well, maybe it was a nudie swimmer

parked the car and went in
for an early morning dip.

- No, I've seen that car before.
- And?

And now I see it again
a full 17 minutes later.

Enough time to drag a body to the beach.

Oh, more than enough.
- Wait, why is that amusing?

Oh, you know who
it is, don't you?

We're closed.

Whatever now?
- ♪ Da-da-da-da, da-da, da-da. ♪

I hope you don't mind, but I thought
that maybe we should celebrate a little.

You see, I think I've
figured a few things out.

The stage is yours, Alexa, but
you might need to up your game.

You're pretty rubbish at
pretending to be Lulu's friend.

Well, I guess that
makes two of us.

Hey, maybe we could have
some champagne lay backs.

You know, like the tequila ones in
the party photos in your staffroom.

Yeah, my, um, industry
has been known

to have wild times, but
most of us grew out of it.

After all, there's nothing more undignified
than a person of advanced years overindulging,

especially if they
end up dead on a beach

with too much alcohol
in your system.

Except Lulu wasn't actually
like that, was she?

She was more into
Pilates and power walks.

Who knows what happens
behind closed doors?

Well, actually, I
kind of think I do.

You see, about six months ago,
Lulu, your favourite client,

started having secret meetings
with your star stylist.

They shared secrets — secrets you couldn't hear
despite your habit of recording your clients

because they held their meetings
off site away from here.

You started to get
worried, paranoid.

Somebody had been looking at your database, so
you changed the password, but was it too late?

You had your suspicions, so you
asked Jett one day to come in

and do a little bit of extra
colour consulting, and he couldn't.

He was too busy. So
you followed him.

You saw Jett and Lulu going
into their new premises,

and your fears were confirmed — He
was leaving you; They both were.

CCTV caught you watching.

Now, granted, the picture's not great,
but, ooh, you should see the body language.

Well, it's a little
bit like right now.

You were fuming, weren't you?

You were ready to explode.

Just hold a minute. I'm just
getting to the good stuff.

There's no record of Lulu organising to do her
hair before the party she never made it to.

So I'm guessing
she just showed up.

Lulu walked right into your little
salon of horrors, didn't she?

Does that sound about right?
- I don't know.

You're telling a fairy tale.

Lulu wanted her roots done, and
you were more than happy to oblige.

You offered her
a... a wee drink.

Poor Lulu. She'd signed
the lease for Jett's salon,

and she wanted to
come clean with you.

Big mistake.

She had no idea how badly her
friend was going to take it.

You were taking the colour off, and
she was lying there, vulnerable.

You saw your chance,
and you took it

held her down, emptied the bottle
down her throat until she choked.

I was at the perfume launch.
Dozens of people saw me.

I even made the social
pages, for God's sake.

Yeah, you managed to get your face in front of
quite a lot of cameras that night, didn't you?

Except for one — one very special camera
about which you had some insider knowledge.

Honestly, Lawrence,
Johnson's Bay has been a nightmare.

People complaining
about the nudists

now we have the nudists complaining every time we fix
the CCTV cameras. I mean, we've just had to give up.

Now, that was very
handy, wasn't it?

And Trinity left her car here
overnight so she could party,

which meant that you could take it,
get to the Johnson's Bay blind spot,

and no one would
ever know it was you.

So you dumped Lulu's
body at the beach.

You came back here, you tidied
up, and you went on with your day.

So I killed her and
then finished her hair?

It's laughable.

No one's gonna believe that.
- Oh, I think that the cops will believe it

after they get the results back from
the forensic sweep of Trinity's car.

I mean, you know...

Lulu in the boot,

you in the front...

You do the math.

Now, I don't really like the way that
you're holding those scissors, Lazza.

Didn't anybody teach
you the safe way?

Those cameras still haven't
been fixed.

And Trinity's wee
car is still outside.

This is the first time you've held scissors in
ages, isn't it? After all, Jett did all the work.

Don't poke the bear, Alexa

especially when
he's holding this.

OK, whoa! What a shot.

I was aiming for your head, but
that'll do, Larry. That'll do.

- Oh, you're a madwoman!
- With excellent aim.

- Harry, don't slip on the floor. Someone spilled champagne.
- Thanks, Alexa.

Gidday, Lawrence.

- What are we doing this for?
- It's team building.

- It feels more like punishment.
- It's an opportunity to practise being vulnerable

and less control freak.

You first.

Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

Madison, come on!

Not if you're looking.

Whatever.

So Cruz the cat is
investing in Jett's salon.

I call that a great result.

Madison.

Madison?

- See ya later!
- Madison, you come back here!

If you have to hire a PI
to spy on your partner...

Christine has sworn to find
the person who killed Griff.

- I'm sorry. Christine's spying on us?
- It seems like it.

- Do you mind?
- First rule of surveillance, Christine

never leave the doors unlocked.

I think our days of being in a
buddy movie are over, don't you?

You know, there are easier
ways to solve a crime

than turning the murder
weapon on yourself.

He made me a winner.
It's called tough love.

Game, set and match.