All language subtitles for S02E11 Dead Air

(Muffled shouting)

WOMAN: And I'm not keeping quiet. No.

No, keep away!

Get back! No, get away!

(She shrieks)

Let go! Argh!

Help!

(Static hum and whine)

How many stations can it pick up?

Only 3JH, I'm afraid.
That's how a restricted licence works.

But that's perfect.

May I ask what's so particular
about this 3JH?

It has The Polkinghorns.

A girl who went to my school
helps to make it.

(Jaunty piano intro plays)

Now it's time to revisit our daily serial,
At Home With The Polkinghorns.

A new day.

(Horn honks)

That sounds like the taxi now.

Maurice, it must be our Guinevere,

home in time for her 21st birthday.

(Clicking)

- Who's Guinevere?
- Their daughter.

Look outside, Maurice - our Guinevere.

(Bell rings)

- (Whispers) Where is she?
- Ssh!

I...

...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.

(Low hum of wireless)

(Whispers) Come on.

Whatever is keeping that maid?

- She's dead.
- Who's dead?

Louisa, outside.
Just turn the blasted thing off!

L... 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.

- Come on. Move along now, please.
- And this is Louisa?

Yes, our Girl Friday,

Miss Louisa Singleton.

How awful.

- They said they'd get us.
- Who did?

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, miss. I'll take it from here.
Step back, please. Thank you.

- Just step back, right back, please.
- Where's Inspector Robinson?

- He's... He's on another job.
- We'd be happy to assist you, Hugh.

Miss Singleton was a good
school friend of Dot's.

She'd never forgive me if I didn't help.

Miss? The uh...

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
that she was in yesterday.

JIMMY: We just thought she was late.

Even though Louisa was never late.
Today of all days.

Playing Guinevere in The Polkinghorns
was her big step up.

(Exhales)

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?
- Uh... Yes, the cloak.

I can scribe, if you like.

So no grudges, threats?

Not against her in particular.

There were telephone calls a few days ago.

- Hazel took one, Louisa the other.
- 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.

Come now, Hazel. It's only a goldfish.
It was probably his time.

Sorry. I'm not normally like this.

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 centre

but also bring 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.

She 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.

(Crackling)

(Classical music plays)

Before you say anything, Archibald...

Thank goodness you're here.
I need you to move in on this case.

- Collins can't handle this alone.
- Is this Jack 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, vandalised 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 - Foleyfoley 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.

I've got some beautiful tips for you today.

The Corroboree Maiden first.
I'm looking at Pancho.

In the seventh,
my pick is Paschal Vaya, number two.

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 favourites.

But the barman at the pub
is making a packet out of this bloke.

Col swears by him.

Don't forget to tune in this afternoon,
at the usual time,

for Hall Of Fame - your chance to guess
our Mare of the Moment.

Nah. We're missing something with this joker.

The 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 the office?
- 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?
Afire, 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.

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?

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?
- Well, you are behaving very suspiciously.

Clarence had the opportunity to murder Louisa.

He could have slipped out of the studio
in a musical interlude.

Hazel and Louisa didn't get on.
Creative competition.

(Door opens)

Have you seen a running order anywhere?

We're in such a mess without Louisa.

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?
- Oh, could be anyone.

- You know the type who hang around here.
- Like who?

That bloke from the newspaper stand for one.

Louisa 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.

Nah. I'm not getting mixed up with the cops,

and it won't bring Louisa back.

Hoo-roo.

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 left school at 15, like me,
but she was always smart.

Well, you must be smart too...
assisting a lady detective.

(He chuckles)

Rightio, let's test you.

Guess this bird.

(He honks several times)

(Dot laughs)

- I give up.
- That is the black swan,

the official bird of Western Australia.

- But I made you smile, didn't I, Dot?
- Deeply affected by your colleague's passing?

What's your problem, Constable?
I've told you everything I know.

Why didn't you hear any disturbance
in the alley last night, Mr. Ball?

There could have been heavy mortar fire
outside
and I wouldn't have heard a thing.

That studio is completely soundproof.

Help! Constable, help, quickly!

(Electrical fizzing)

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 going to knock us all off, I know it.

The same thing happened at 2WA.

No, I'm sure it's nothing more than
a silly accident.

- Tell her, Miss Fisher.
- I'd like to agree with you, but...

The wires have been deliberately frayed.

HUGH: No, sir. Inspector Robinson
prevented the electrocution himself.

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.

Ah! The Inspector's secret stash!

Miss...

Well done, Hugh.

Mm, delicious.

A packet of matches, thanks.

And, ah...this came for you.

Special delivery.

Thanks. I've 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.

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.
-Mm.

We need a quiet word with Hazel,
a casual téte-a-téte.

Bring the car around, Dot.

(Chiming)

Tea For Two.

What better, after a woman's
long day of household toils

and a man's daily battles with the world,

than a steaming brew for two of Tilley's Tea?

- To celebrate hearth and home...
- (Bell rings)

...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,
I could type these notes up for you.

Thanks, Dottie.

Uh, you know, if I do well on this case,
it means I'm one step closer to a promotion,

which means we can afford to get married.

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.

Can't we work it out ourselves?

That's what we'll have to do
when you don't work for her any more.

Pardon?

Once we set a date and you give notice...

...Miss Fisher's going to 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.

- Of course. I'd be happy to help.
- Thank you, Dot.

But 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?

Oh, Louisa was very ambitious,
but she had no training as a writer.

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?

Well, 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 help.
I do have performance experience.

- Really?
- I need to be around the station in any case.

I wouldn't want Hazel to feel displaced,

but at the moment,
I would be very grateful, Miss Fisher.

Now a word from our favourite 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.

(Piano intro)

♪ 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 wire 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 cosy.

I'm quite cosy enough, thank you.

DOT: 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.

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 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 horserace.

Well, you can't just take over the wireless
whenever you please.

It's a job, Dottie. Look.

Miss Fisher asked us to keep an eye
on this horse she asked about - 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 is actually there, Dottie.
He's at the track.

Up some bloody tree, I bet,

so the newspapers don't lynch him
for stealing their thunder.

Lining up for race six in the Rowlands.

Second on the outside is my tip for a win -
No. 4, Bedazzler.

I thought Glory Girl
was supposed to be his favourite.

Last on the outside is No. 14, Glory Girl.
It's a wet track here.

She hardly rated a mention.

I feel like I'm at the bookie's circle
at 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. Who could she be?

- Just get on with it!
- Ssh!

...7th July 1926.

Who told Hazel Creswick
I should diversify into singing?

Mm, 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.

BERT: 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 mentioned it on the radio.

Nah. Not even close!

More interested in 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.

I pass my tips on to Clarrie,
he puts them on the air.

He's got some special code
and punters pay to get hold of it.

That's it!

Mr. Ball, we're very interested in
your daily Hall Of Fame segment.

Please, call me Clarrie.

No, thank you.

Now, your mystery horse today,
what was the clue, Constable?

Ah. “Foaled 7th July 1926."

Seventh letter of the alphabet, G,

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 news stand,

I then broadcast the tip before the race.

If punters want to put money on,
that's their business,

and if Dodger pays me cash every night,
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.
- 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.

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."

(Thunder rumbling)

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.

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.

- (She taps)
- Whoa.

Sorry. I was just trying to steady you.

Steady me any time, Inspector.

This looks hopeful. (Taps)

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.

- 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 news stand.

Looks like he's our arsonist.

A week of tips like this
from that dodgy character,

think how many beers
that's going to buy us.

Forget the beer. We'll be rich enough
to buy the whole ruddy pub.

How do you like that?
Customers could be waiting.

What are you two doing here?

Buying a paper. No law against that.

- Where's Lockhart?
- Who?

- John Lockhart. Some 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.

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 recognise 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.

- Almost time for my finale.
- I'll meet you at the radio station.

...almost everything in between.

There's good fishing available
right across the bay.

Now for Victoria's weather.

A low system will deepen over
the Bight waters this morning, then...

...move...

uh...move north of the state and weaken.

Now for some modern music from...

♪♪ BEETHOVEN: Symphony No.5

...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.
And it's not Archie, it's Jack Robinson.

They passed me over as newsreader for a cop!

Mr. and Mrs. Creswick, I must ask you
to accompany me to the station

to answer 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 news stand?

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?

(Knocking)

Excuse me, sir. Some information has 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 going to
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, miss.
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.

Aw, Dottie. It's not your fault.

It's not that, Hugh.

Stay here. I'll 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!

What's going on, Collins?

We...uh...

...we've had another murder, sir.

Oh, 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 want to 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... (Groans)

Well, my dear, we are very grateful

to have you home again, safe and sound.

Perhaps a cup of tea to celebrate.

- (Mimics kettle whistling)
-And...

...a song!

(Record plays)

Why didn't you tell me you were so ill?

Oh, 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.

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 any more.

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.

(Door bell)

Special delivery - Louisa's last meal.

Thank you, Jack.

I think I'm going to 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.

Cause of death of two goldfish - thallium.
It's found in rat poison.

Odourless, colourless and dissolves in water.

Hazel drinks a great deal of water.
Thallium also causes hair loss.

It would have to be a low dose for the victim
to lose their hair, not just die.

So Hazel's being poisoned,
slowly and carefully?

The poisoner's poison.

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 to 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.

She could have known this Guinevere.
But why would she hide this notice?

(Urgent 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 parlour.

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 realise how ill you really are.

No. I'm all right.

I have to be.

I'm moving to start my new job next week.

The 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 honour. 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, Clarrie.
Your charms are lost on me.

Liar.

And now, a very special treat.

A taste of the past - Twilight Melodies.

(Gentle classical music)

- (Door shuts)
- 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.

Why? So you can kill her
like you killed your first wife?

- Be quiet
- You're not going to shoot me.

- What would be the point in that?
DOT: I'm calling the police.

You left your wife at home with her headache
before you went to the awards night

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.

(Muffled speech)

It's you.

You dragged her body outside.

Clarence couldn't hear any of it.

Then you continued on to the awards night
as if nothing had happened,

and poor old Dodger saw it all.

You realised he witnessed the murder,
so you killed him foo.

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!

(Siren)

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.

(Jazz music and chatter)

Might want to 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.

Dot and Hugh.

- (Chatter)
-Mr. B.

(Romantic music)

So, Archie, looks like it's back to your old life.

Don't stop because of me.

(He starts playing)

♪ 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. ♪