All language subtitles for My.Life.Is.Murder.S04E08.WEB.x264-TORRENTGALAXY

- Charlie Scott was killed in an
explosion in a hyperbaric chamber.

- This is a gang of evil witches.

- The Widows' Club, huh?
I'm going to fit right in.

My husband and I are interested
in joining your marvellous club.

Charlie's widow has a new bloke.

- Ray Jones.
- Will Crowe.

- She's moving on.
- Nadia.
- She's met someone already.

- I'm not gonna feel guilty, Nadia.

- I'm here for Alexa.
- Sorry, who's Alexa?
- My sister.

- Ray Jones did it.

- Raynor Johnson was deported after
serving two years in prison for
careless driving causing death.

He drove his car
through a police roadblock,
killing an officer on duty.

Alexa's husband.

- Where did you go last night?

- I wanted to talk to him.

I wanted him to know...

what it cost me.

- Ray Jones, otherwise
known as Raynor Johnson.

- Mm?
- 42 years old...

found dead three days ago in
a golf bunker on the 13th hole of
the Southern Isle Country Club.

Blunt force trauma.

Time of death was sometime between
10pm and 11pm Thursday night.

The prime suspect is
one ex-police detective

who had some serious beef
with the guy.

- No, no, no.

The prime suspect might be
his girlfriend, Phoebe Scott.
Remember her?

Couple of months ago,
buried her husband, Charlie.

- You were the last person
to see Ray alive, Alexa.

- The person who killed him is
the last one to see him alive.

And we both know that's not me.

- We found the murder weapon. It was
discarded in some bushes nearby.

It had your fingerprints on it.

- Wait, that golf club? No, no, no,
that was already broken. Some golfer
had a tantrum and threw it in there.

- Well, what were you doing there?

- I told you.

I went to talk to him.

And I talked to him.

I got closure.

- Yeah, maybe you should stop
using the word 'closure'.

- Look, somewhere out there
is a murder weapon, OK?

You searched the golf course
and the club.

You didn't find it, so obviously
the killer took it with them.

What did you turn up
at Phoebe's place?

She's got an alibi.

OK, is this an official
police interview?

Cos if it's not, then I got places
to be and murder weapons to find.

- Look, I know you didn't
kill the guy. The evidence is
kind of stacking up against―

- Stacking up?
- Yeah.
- Yes ― understood.

And I love this kind of a challenge.

But if this is not an interview,
then I'm afraid―

- No, it's not an official
police interview.

That has to happen
down at the station.

- What, now?
- Yeah.

Come on. I'll give you a lift.
-Hatethe station.

Captions were made with
the support of NZ On Air.

www.able.co.nz
Copyright Able 2024

- Police station coffee is
like water with a dash of soil.

- Ah. I'll make you one.
- Mm.

- Makes a change, eh ― me picking
herup from the cop shop.

- You OK, Alexa?

- Do you know what Phoebe's alibi is?

Harry's being annoyingly secretive.
- Because you're off the case.

That's what he thinks.

Oh no, no, no, no. No, no, no.

Don't you be all goody-goody,
and do not take Harry's side.
- No, this is not a side situation.

- I know that he's just
doing his job, all right?
And I― He's under pressure.

The people upstairs will be
pushing him to make an arrest.

- Yikes.
- Here.

- I'm sorry about Ray, Will.
I know you liked him.

- Yeah, no, I did. Yeah, I got
on really well with him.

Well, that was before I knew
who he was, of course.

- Yeah, well, still, he didn't
deserve what happened to him.

- Well, you don't deserve
any of this either.

You don't think they're really
gonna haul you in, do you?

- Well, they've only got one suspect,

and things are getting
a teensy bit urgent.

- So... what can we do?

- Find the real killer, of course.

Madison, you're me. Find out
where Phoebe was three nights ago

and if she has anything
to gain from Ray's death.
- On it.

- You ― you're on the course.
- Yeah.

- There's got to be something
that the police missed.
- Right.

- So how are you doing?
It's been such a crazy time.
- So crazy.

Two men are dead, and the killer
was sitting right with us
only days ago ― at our table.

- What, you think Alexa Crowe
killed Charlie Scott as well?

She didn't even join the club until
weeks after he died. So I've heard.

- Well, as Iris says, there's
no such thing as a coincidence.
- Unless you're Phoebe.

Well, losing two partners
one after the other.

- Oh, such bad luck.
- And a coincidence.

- And she feels so terrible
because she had an argument
with Ray that night.

- Wait, Phoebe did?
- Yeah. He went out to clear
his head, and instead...

- So, what was Phoebe
doing when Ray was gone?
- Well, she was FaceTiming with me.

Yeah, we had a good old bitch
about our men, then hers died.

Donovan's still around, of course.

- What can you see?
- Nothing. I couldn't get
near the blimmin' bunker.

- There's got to be something there.
Someone was following me
that night ― I just know it.

- Well, your little piggy mates
are everywhere I looked.

- Don't talk like that.

Just keep looking.

I'll call you back.

- What the hell are you
doing here,murderer?
- Hi, Phoebe.

- I know all about you.
I know that you were in Melbourne.

I know that you hated Ray
because of some... accident,
but he served his time.

- Yeah, I wanted to talk to Ray.
I wanted to ask him why he drove
away from that 'accident'

without checking to see
whether my husband was breathing,
which ― spoiler alert ― he wasn't.

- Well... so you see?
You wanted him dead.

- I wanted him to know what he'd
done. I wanted him to hear about
my husband, know who he was.

I wanted him to be sorry, and he was.
He said it, so I left.

- You're a liar.
- Am I the one with
two dead partners?

Where were you the night
Ray died, Phoebe?

- Go away. Stay away from me!

She's a crazy woman.

- What happened? Did she react?
- She asked where
I was when Ray died.

- Ladies.

Uh, it's Phoebe, right?
- Yeah.

- Yeah, Will. I was a...
friend of Ray's.

Listen, I just want
to say I'm really sorry.
- Thank you.

- And if there's anything I can do
to... help in any way, you know?

You need a man around
the house or anything?

- I am actually getting
quite scared at night.

Look, babe. There's Iris.

- Let's go, Phoebs.
- Hm?

- You need something
to calm the nerves.
- Ah.

- What do you think?
Pretty charming, eh?

- You were flirting with a woman
whose partner died three nights ago.
- Yeah, I know.

That's the whole point.
I'm trying to get close to her.
- That's my job, Will.

- No, no. I think we should swap.
You play golf, and I'll keep
sweet-talking sweet Phoebe.

- Oh, because
you're so good at it?
- Yeah.

- Then why is she leaving?

- Huh. Something I said?
- It's not somethingyousaid, no.

- So, one minute Phoebe thinks Will
is God's gift. And the next...

- They couldn't get
away fast enough.

- The others said something
to Phoebe, made her go cold.
Reminded her to play the part.

Oh.

Good morning!

- You know, it sounds like you think
they were all in on it together.
- Hmm.

They definitely have a kind of
creepy, cliquey vibe going on, so...

- Hey.
- Hey.

- I got some news in from forensics.

The autopsy shows the golf club
at the scene is definitely
not what killed Ray.

It was a nine-iron.
Bigger shape and angle ―
not a match for his injuries.

- Not going to say it.
- I'll say it if you like.

- Say what?
- She―
Told you so.

- Right.

I'm really sorry, Alexa.
- So you should be, Harry. As if
Alexa had anything to do with―

- Wait ― what?

Oh, that better not be
what I think it is.

- A search warrant?
- You know I wouldn't do this
if it was up to me alone.

- Don't break anything.

And don't let my cat out!

- Yeah, I know.

OK, just don't break anything.

- You know, he's liking this
about as much as we are.

Where are you going?

- If you want to get a job done
properly, Madison...

Phoebe?

- ...Mm-hm!
- We're in this together.

I don't know what
I'd do without you two.

- Well, you guys didn't make too much
of a mess, thank you very much.

- Hey ― kind of weird
to leave your house when there's
a search warrant being executed.

- Well, I didn't want
to watch all that.

- So where'd you go?
- I think you know
where I went, Harry.

Yes, I went to Phoebe's, and, yes, I
took a quick look through the garage.
- You pushed it toofar.

- But I think that Nadia's
paranoid husband was on to something.
Those women do everything together.

- Can I speak now?
- OK, check it out. Now, this
is what Ray was working on.

It's his custom-built
golf ball finder.

- Hmm.
- Did I see it that night?

No, cos it was dark
and cos I had a lot on my mind.

But didyoufind it at
the murder scene? No, because
the killer took it with them.

This is what you're
looking for, Harry.

- Actually, I'm not
looking for anything.

I've been suspended.

- Look, Harry ― you've
been suspended. But, hey,
look on the bright side.

- What, I can enjoy
some downtime, clear my head?

- No. Now you can help me find
who really killed Charlie and Ray.

- Do I really need to explain?
Being suspended means getting
thrown off the case.

- Ugh. Pesky rules.

Look, you can go home and mope,
or you can help me catch
a killer... who's out there.

OK? Then you can get reinstated,
and I can go on with my life
without waiting to be locked up,

which, now that you're not there,
could be any minute now.

- OK. What time do
you want me tomorrow?

- Good boy.

If Ray was out fumbling around
for balls in the dark, he would
have had this with him.

Mads. What's up?

- Nadia's husband's gone.

- What do you mean 'gone'? Is he―

- No, not dead. He's taken off to
Tasmania to stay with his brother.

- Donovan's
gone to Australia.
- First Charlie, then Ray ―

Donovan was certain he was next.

- Did he say all this to Nadia?

- Oh, in an email. He was
too scared to say it to her face.

- Did he say what he thought
their motive might be?

- Well, he thinks that being
a widow is more glamorous
than being a divorcee.

- Thanks, Mads.

What do you know about
Iris' late husband?

- Nothing. We had no reason
to look at him. Why?

- What are you wearing?
- What?

- All right, come on.
We've got to stop at yours
on the way to Iris' place.

I need you to get changed.
I want you to look the part.

- What part?
- The part of a working
homicide detective.

- This is nice, right?

Oh. I suppose this is what you
were doing when Charlie died in
that hyperbaric chamber.

- Yeah, we were here...

with Iris having a long lunch.

- Oh, it was awful, that day.

- 'Scuse me.

- Oh, hi.

- Hi.
- Hey. Oh, you OK?

- Yeah, I'm just...
- having a moment ― another one.

- Is there anything I can do?

- My friends said
I shouldn't talk to you because
you're Alexa Crowe's brother.

- No, I don't talk to Alexa.
I mean, she's a suspected murderer.

It's, uh... It's really hard for me.

- They also said you are
a widow hunter and a gold-digger.

- Eh?
- Yeah.

- Well, they say things happen
in threes, so, all due respect...

I only want
to be your friend.

You know?
- What?
- Well...

- Oh my God.
- What?

I'm gonna― I'm gonna be a
black widow for the rest of my life.

Nobody is gonna want me.
I'm gonna be alone.

- No.
- Yeah!
- Hey, hey.

Some guys might...
find it a turn-on.
- What?

- Anyway, look, let's take
a seat, and I'll tell you
a joke, give you a drink?

- Great.
- Come on.

- Wow, nice. What are you
waiting for, Detective?

- Just be careful
and quiet and quick.

- All the things I always am.

Go, go, go, go, go.

- Could I make you a green tea?
- Oh no. I'm fine, thank you.

- Take a seat.

- Just wanted to ask you a couple
of questions, if that's OK.

- I'm very happy to help.

- Great. Where were
you five nights ago?

- Five nights ago.
Where was I five nights ago...?

Um, look, I was here... alone.

- OK. Did you get any phone calls
from anyone, or any meal delivery?
Anything like that?

- No. Is that a problem?

- No, no, no.
- Mm-hm.
- Just...

getting the big picture.
- Mm.

Well I decided to have
a quiet night in.

Just me, and my cross-stitch.

Actually, that― that could
answer your question more.

I do take progress photographs
if you need to see them, but, um...

Yeah, I got a lot done
on Thursday night.

Um, you know how sometimes you
just... you just get in the zone?

And you keep going and going
and going and going,

and then you wake up, and it's,
like, 5 in the morning?

Well, that is seven hours' work
right there.

- Wow. Yeah, that's impressive.
- Thank you.

- Well, that was
a completely unauthorised
and illegal police interview.

- Uh-huh.
- You didn't steal
anything, did you?

- I took nothing but photographs.
- Good.

- And this nice big file
that I found in her desk.
- Seriously?

- Now, Iris' late husband was
a doctor ― an academic doctor,
but still.

- Relevance?
- And Irisnearlywas a doctor.

She got her Masters in linguistics,
got diplomas and awards,

but it looks like
she never finished her PhD.

- You found all of
this out just now?
- Yes, I'm quite good.

- OK. What's the significance?

- Not sure yet ― could be nothing,
might be something.

- Cross-stitch as an alibi
is tenuous at best.

- Which she conveniently offered up,
complete with photographs.

- But we can't place her
at the golf club that night.

- Wait a minute.

In 2001, Iris was offered
a research grant...

and the chance to finish her PhD
in Japan. She never went.
- Hm.

- 2001...

This.

I bet she didn't go because
her husband got sick.

- And he passed away
five years later.

- Then we know she didn't kill him.
Prostate cancer, right?
- Most common cancer in men.

No, they had a good relationship.
She loved him, gave up her career
to nurse him.

- Well, that makes her different
from the other two,

who seem to think that men
are only good for two things.

- Eh?
- That's so good.

- Yeah, feeling better already?
- Yeah.
- Cooee!

- Ugh.
- Ah.

- Mr Crowe. I'm so sorry to disturb,
Phoebe. I was just wondering ― have
you given any thought to my offer?

- I'm not doing it.
- Oh, right.

Can I remind you that it's free
of charge? And also a very fitting
tribute to a man who loved golf.

Also, the view's to die for.
- No.

- OK, maybe think about it some―
- Oi. She said no, mate.

Whatever it is you're offering,
she doesn't want any ― clearly.

- OK. Thank you very much, Mr Crowe.

Maybe just think about it some more.

- Thank you.

- Whatishe offering?

- Say that again.

- Ricardo wants to bury Ray Jones
on the golf course.

Well, that's taking life
membership a bit far, isn't it?

- Tax avoidance.
- Well spotted, sis.

- Wait ― I'm so confused. What...?

- If a body is buried on the grounds
of the club, it becomes a cemetery.
That's a huge tax write-off.

- OK. Learn something new every day.
- Yeah.

As far as tax avoidance goes,
it's a little too much, even for me.

- But is it a motive for murder?

- So Southern Isle isn't
doing so well, even with
the hefty membership fees.

- Right, how bad are we talking?
Like, 'receivers moving in' kind
of bad?

- It's getting close.

- And what would happen to the
club's money worries if there was,
say, a body buried on the grounds?

- Well, a tax break like this
could mean the difference between
going under and staying open.

- And we know Ricardo didn't
much care for Ray, so maybe
he was, like, an easy sacrifice.

- And Charlie?

- Good point.

We need to find out if
Ricardo offered a lovely
burial plot for Charlie.

- Well, how you gonna
do that? He's dead.
- Well, his widow would know.

- What, his widow that
hates you with a vengeance?

- Yeah, but she doesn't hate
my brother.

- Oh, yeah. He was a good guy.

- He was.

- Was, yeah.

He loved golf, right? But do you
think he loved it enough to want
to be... buried on the golf course?

- Actually, he liked fishing more.

- Ah.
- Mm.

- What about Charlie?
- Oh, no. Charlie got seasick, so...

- No ― did Ricardo
make the same offer?

For Charlie to be buried
at the golf club.
- Oh.

There really wasn't much
left of Charlie to bury, so...
- Right.

Yeah, sorry.

- But Ricardodidsuggest
that maybe we should bury
his ashes at the fifth hole.

- Mm.

- Is this it?

Sure Will said the fifth?
- Yeah.

Ricardo's not offering
the best views in the world
for eternal membership, is he?

- You're saying the club manager
killed not once, but twice,
for a tax break?

- What, someone killing for money?
- It's unheard of - Yeah, OK.

But where's the evidence?
- Just be patient, Harry.

- Hey, can you hurry it up? You
know this stuff makes me anxious.

And Ricardo seems like an OK dude.

- Yeah, you would say that,
because you're a bloke,
and he's nice to blokes.

Whoa. He's keeping notes
on club members.

- Like what?
- Well, he's not a fan
of your golf shoes.

- Eh?

- They're not the proper ones. He's
questioning your actual net worth.

- I am not getting
back in there again.

- Reuben, you see this?

I'm pretty sure that the little bits
of rubber I picked from the bottom
of the door match this thing.

OK. Come out.

Try harder.

So this is definitely effective at
keeping the sauna door jammed shut.

Plus, it matches the rubber crumbs
I found at the bottom of the door.

Then there's this.

He was keeping notes on all members.

'Nadia sozzled again
for the third night in a row.

'Didn't even notice that it
was the cheap plonk and not
the premium she paid for.'

Oh ― here we go.
Iris Coddington stole a blanket from the wellness centre.

Naughty Iris.
- Nothing gets past Ricardo.

But go back to the page
that I folded.

Mm-hm... Oh. Charlie Scott
behind in his club fees.

- And when Ricardo approached him
about it, he disputed the amount.

You know, you can see what Ricardo
thought of that on the next page.

- I think it's time I paid
our club manager a visit.

- You've been banned
from the club, Alexa.

- Well, then... It should be
realeasy to get his attention.

- Excuse me. Please leave.

Excuse me.
- Mm-hm?

- I don't wanna have to call the
cops. OK? Their presence is really
starting to upset our members.

So if you can please leave
of your own accord,
I'd really appreciate that.

- Why are you keeping
notes on club members?

- I'm sorry? Wha―
Keeping notes on...?
- Oh, you know ―

who's intoxicated, who's stealing
blankets... who's been pigging out
at the smorgasbord.

- Well, here at the Southern Isle,
we have rules for a reason.

OK? Our members are
some of society's elite.
Reputation is everything.

So you're trying
to blackmail them?

- No ― absolutely not!

- Well?

- I'm actually writing
a tell-all memoir, OK?

It's an explosive insider scoop
on the lives of the rich and famous,
and it's... pretty juicy.

- Oh, well, it will be if
you include Charlie exploding
in your oxygen chamber.

- Wha―
- Whoa, wait ― that's your
plot twist, isn't it?

- Are you suggesting
I blew up Charlie to make my
memoir a more enticing read?

Is that what you're saying?

- Well, stolen blankets
and inappropriate golf attire is
hardly riveting reading, is it?

What's this?
- Where did you find that?

No. No, I did― I did not
trap Charlie and Donovan
in the sauna, OK?

I heard the banging, and
then I went in there, and then―
and there they were.

And, yes, I found this
jammed under the door.

- So you decided
to hide it in your desk?

- Well, I just― I thought
it was just a silly prank.

- When Charlie died, you offered
Phoebe the opportunity to bury
his remains at the fifth hole...

And the same with Ray.
- Yes I did. I'm― You know,
I'm generous like that.

- You're cashing in on people dying.
- No, I'm not. Look... this is
a legitimate tax write-off, OK?

I mean, these deaths have been
crippling for business. I'm just
struggling to stay afloat.

The new hyperbaric chamber just
arrived. No one wants to use it.
I haven't had a single booking.

- You bought
a new hyperbaric chamber?

- Yes. The insurance came through.

- Oh, Ricardo.

- What?

Yeah, so clients relax inside with
a magazine and a woolly blanket
while the air pressure's elevated

until they're breathing
100% oxygen. And it's... yeah.

- There's quite a few safety
precautions to take, right?
- Oh, absolutely.

And we were meticulous and rigorous.

I mean, I don't know
why Charlie didn't remove
his hearing aid that day.

It's a mystery.
Maybe he just forgot.
- Yeah.

- Oh, that's organic merino.
- Mm.

- Wool.
- Very nice.

Hey ― can I take one of these?

- Uh...
- Oh, I'll bring it back.

- Can you make sure you do?
Cos they're super expensive.
- Sure.

- OK. Ooh. Excuse me,
I've just got to...

- Yeah.

Hey, Mads? Hey. Try to get
invited to Iris' place.

There's something
I need you to look for.

- Thanks so much for including me.
- Shh.

- 'Scuse me, I just got
to go to the loo.

I'm looking, OK?

- OK, I'm just checking.

- Do people usually have
more than one linen cupboard?
- Keep looking.

Try the closets off the office.

- OK. There's a bunch
of blankets, but...

I don't see it.

- That's exactly what
I was hoping you'd say.

- Well, maybe somebody
else stole the blanket.

- It was Iris.

She stole the blanket.

And then...

she got rid of it,

and I know where.

- Hello, Iris.

I just wanted to ask you
about this blanket.

Well, not this exact blanket ―
the one that you took home.

You know, the one that ended up
being blown to smithereens along
with Charlie.

- What are you babbling on about?

- Remember the blanket that
you stole from the club
two and a half months ago?

- Yes, I― I did.

I took one, but I, um...
I returned it as soon as I realised.

- After some modifying.
- I don't know what
you're talking about.

- When you returned it,
where did you return it to?

- I think I just put it
in a basket with the others.

- Why didn't you give it to Ricardo?
He thinks you're a thief.

- I wouldn't have
thought he'd notice.
- Oh, he notices lots of things.

- Just not that he'd let a...
killer into our club.

- You sewed your late
husband's hearing aid into
the lining of this blanket

and popped it into
the hyperbaric chamber right
before Charlie got there.

- Kaboom.
- Charlie was a mean old goat.

But he was very sick, and he
wasn't going to get any better.

So why would someone like me
risk everything to kill
someone who's already dying?

I understand that you are desperate.

And I think it's very sad.

- Chowder?
- Oh, if he's beating up the
neighbour's cat again, I swear...

- Chowder! Here puss, puss, puss,
puss, puss, puss, puss.

Here puss, puss, puss― Oh! Good boy.
There's a good boy. Hello, darling.

- What time do you call this, buddy?
- She's right.

Why can't you stay inside
like a good indoor cat, huh?

Ray came into my life
when I was lost and lonely, and...

he lifted me up so
I could see the sun again.

And now he's gone.

Just... snatched away from me
too young, too soon.

And if it wasn't for my ladies,
I just― I don't know how
I would have got through.

So to my best girls, Iris and Nadia,

thank you, thank you.

And also... what are
you doing next week?

- Next week?

- You're taking me on a
grief holiday. That is what!

No way.

- Summer holiday in Europe
with my girls!

- So, come to see that
you'd done the job properly,
that he's really dead?

- You know, I've never seen a funeral
where the widow announces she's going
on vacay with her gal pals.

- Do you know, I think the only
thing I will regret about spending
summer in Europe with my girls...

is that I won't get
to see you locked up.

- You're so sure that I'm guilty.
Did your tarot cards tell you that?

- Anyone can see that you're
a very dangerous woman, Alexa Crowe.
I do not need cards to tell me that.

- You're full of crap.
You can't read cards.
- What?

- What did you do ―
watch a TikTok video?

- Oh, I can assure you
that's not the case.

- Give me another reading, then.

Embroidery. Really?

Ow.

Careful.

You'll wind up like, um...
Sleeping Beauty.

- Hm.

You know what the husbands
call you, don't you?

The witches of East Auckland.

- Well, it's nothing
on what we call them.

The odd needle injury is― it's
just part and parcel of crafting.

- Oh, don't tell me those
were caused by needles.

- No, that was, uh,
Nadia who swiped me.

She was dancing rather
enthusiastically at a, uh, silent
disco we went to you last week.

Can you imagine?
- Well, false nails can be brutal.

- Why don't we see what the cards
have in store for you...

Alexa Crowe?

- Go for it.

- Eight of Swords.

Well, well.

Oh dear ―

justice.

You see, justice doesn't
alwaysimply incarceration ―

except when it's together
with this one.

- What else you got?

- Eight of cups ― you're going away.

- To prison? Could you be
any more on the nose?

- Don't shoot the messenger.

- Does the Eight of Cups ― on its
own ― mean going away on a trip?

Is that the card that
you used to convince Phoebe
to take you to Europe?

- Do you really think

that you can frame us...

as a coven of widows
bumping off their men?

But how can you prove that?

- How are you going
to prove you're not?

- I believe I already have, Alexa.

- Kia ora.
- Kia ora, Harry.

What's going on?
- Just taking a walk,
killing some time.

Worrying about my mate Alexa.
- Well, I haven't been arrested yet.

Listen to this. On the day that
Charlie died, Iris posted a message
on the Widows Club groupchat

asking them to order her
a dozen oysters and champagne.

- Yeah, we know they were at lunch
when the explosion happened.

- But it means that she wasn't
at the table when they ordered.

So either she was late or
she ducked away for a few minutes.
But either way...

- She had the opportunity to get
down to the wellness centre right
before Charlie's last treatment.

OK, that is interesting.

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?

- Uh, yeah. Hi.
- You all right?
- Often I am.

Like I was right about the murder
weapon. It's a fairly hefty
homemade golf ball retriever.

- How do you know that?
- Cos I'm looking at it.

- Hi, Iris.

Nice day for a walk. Love a walk.
- You're rather taking the glow off
it, so if you don'tmind...

- Oh, that's right.
You like to walk alone, yeah.

It was on one of these solitary
walks that you noticed Ray Jones.

His weird little side hustle,
hobby, or whatever you call it ―
collecting lost golf balls.

- Well, you'd know more
about that than I would.
- That's right, I do.

Because another time you noticed that
Iwas out here talking with him,

and that conversation
was a bit tense.

I mean, let's be honest.

That was good for you, wasn't it?

Cos you'd been worried.

- Why the interest?

- You worked out that I was
investigating Charlie Scott's death.

And you saw that maybe I was getting
a little too close to the truth.

And then you saw my reaction to Ray.

Yeah, my guess is that you did some
research and found out that Raynor
Johnson, as he was thenknown,

was driving the car that killed
my husband, Gary, in Melbourne.

Realising that it was him ―
that was a shock.
- Oh, yes.

- But I've got to thank
you for that, Iris.

Because if you hadn't killed
Charlie Scott, then I never would
have come to the country club.

- Alexa.

Charlie...

blewhimselfup.

- Iris, no, he didn't.

He knew the health and safety rules,
and so did you.

So you borrowed a wellness centre
blanket to do a little sewing ―

well, we already talked
about that, didn't we?

Then you popped your modified blanket
into the hyperbaric chamber

right before poor old Charlie
was due for a session.

And you joined your gal pals
for lunch ― a little bit late,
but nobody noticed.

The main thing is you were
all at the table together
when you heard the explosion.

What was that?

I don't know what it is that
you imagine that I could gain
from something like this.

- Well, you told me yourself.
Charlie had a terminal illness.
- Yes.

- Prostate cancer.
- Yes.
- Yes.

That's why you killed him.

Cos you knew what Phoebe was about
to go through, and you'd been through
all that with your ownhusband.

- Jakob.

It's completely different.

- I know.

Jakob was a good man.

And Charlie was a prat.

And you knew how hard it was to stop
your life to care for a dying man.
You didn't want that for Phoebe.

- You're making me sound
so generous, just risking
everything for my friend.

- Oh, I wouldn't say 'generous'.

See, the reason you killed him is
that he was being a fun-sucker.

Phoebe'syourdrinking partner, and
he was sucking up all her attention.

So you killed him.
I knew it. You knew it.

You knew I knew it, and that's why
you wanted me out of the picture.

This was your opportunity
to kill two birds with one stone ―

get rid of Phoebe's new handbrake
partner, and make sure that I was
out of the way at the same time.

Poor Ray Jones.
Talk about wrong place, wrong time.

Because you saw an opportunity
that night.

- You killed him to frame me,
to get me off your tail.

And you took the actual murder
weapon with you and planted it
at my house two nights ago,

cos you needed to put
the final nail in my coffin.
- If you say so, Alexa.

- Cat says so.
- You've lost me.
I don't know what you―

- You see, he doesn't
much like strangers,

especially ones creeping
around his house at night.

- These... are from
Nadia's ridiculous nails.

- So can you explain how your DNA
got all over my cat's claws?

Oh yeah ― he got you good.

Lots of skin cells and even some
blood for police to identify you by.

I love my cat. He helped me solve
a murder today ― two, in fact.

Dammit, Iris!

Iris!
- No.

No!

- Iris, no.

No!

- Iris, don't.

Wouldn't that
be so funny if I slipped and fell?

And then another person
gets killed from the club

and the Black Widow
is right there.

- Do you prefer going over that cliff
to facing the consequences?

- Well, if I get to take
Alexa Crowe down, why not?

- Jeez, Iris.

What did I ever do to you?
- Don't. No, don't...

come near me.

- OK.

You know, you and I actually
have a lot of similarities.

We both married men we love;
we both lost them too soon.

Your career was cut short by
your husband's illness, and...

well, I kinda threw mine away, but...

Actually, that's where
the similarities end.

Because I didn't let what
happened to me define me.

Don't get me wrong, when
Gary was killed, I was sad,
mad and... bloody angry.

I could have stayed that way forever.

But then I would have died
along with Gary.

- But I― I picked myself up.

And I― I got on with it.

I lead a really good life.

- How? As... queen of
the Widows' Club?

Well... We have a ball!

- By turning your friends against
their partners? Making them fight
for your attention?

God.

Making Phoebe a widowtwice?

Look, I get it, all right? But...

It is lonely,

and it hurts.

It is really hard.

Cos you go through life, and there's
part of you missing, and you know
that nobody understandsthat.

But the wretched times don't last.

Good friends can pull you
out of them.

Friends remind you
that life is great.

I just wish you'd have let them.

- I don't have any.

- I'm glad you got off, sis.
You had me worried there for a bit.

- Oh, what? You actually
thought I did it?
- Nah, of course not.

But, you know ― innocent people
do go down. It's not unheard of.

- Any innocent people in particular?

- What, me? No, no ―
guilty as charged.

Plus some other stuff
they never got me for.

Hey, why don't you come down the
beach? You know, sunshine, friends,
freedom, sand, sandwiches.

- Oh.
- Sand in your sandwiches?
- Oh, I'd love to, but nah.

I got a few more days left of
my free trial at the Southern Isle.

Plus, my new friend, Phoebe,
just had some horrible news.
She needs some comforting.

Plus someone to go
to Europe with her.

No.

Si.

I'll send you a postcard.
Arrivederci. Ciao, bella.

- Too nice.

DNA under Chowder's
claws ― I still can't believe
you actually said that.

- It was the first line that
came to mind. Iris believed it.

- I could get used to this ―
if I didn't have to go
back to work tomorrow.

- Mm.
- You're welcome, Harry.

You thought I was being bad,
but really I was just trying
to get you a holiday.

And seriously, you guys,
all of you...

thanks, from...
Well, you know.

- No. For what, Alexa?

- For standing by me ―
for better or for worse.

- Well, you're
definitely better now.

- Yeah. Nowhere near as
scary as you used to be.

- What, even with
a murder accusation?
- Oh...

- OK, who thought I'd done it?
OK ― even just for a second.
Who thought I might have?

- No, do not answer that.
- OK, now I'm scared again.

- I've never been scaredofAlexa.
Just scaredforher, you know?

- All right, now you guys
are ruining my soppy moment.

I was just trying to say something.
- Well, go on. What?

- Say it.
- Nah ― moment's lost.

- Aw, Alexa.
- Say it.

- Alexa, come on.
- Come on.

- Come on!

- # If the moon don't
mind me by your side...

- # I'll light your way
through the darkest night.

- I was just going to say
that I didn't mind...

well, I loved that you guys
had my back.

- We'll take that, I reckon.
- Anything else?

And I quite like you being around.

- # I'll light your way.

# I'll light your way.

# I'll light your way.

# I'll light your way.

# I'll light your way.

# I'll light your way.

# I'll light your way.

# I'll light your way. #

Captions by Jason Conran.
Edited by Sam Baker.

Captions were made with
the support of NZ On Air.

www.able.co.nz
Copyright Able 2024