01x03 - The Green Mill m*rder

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Fancy a whirl tonight?

You must be joking!

Oh, come on, Twinkle Toes.

Come on!

A Tiger Moth.

A Tiger Moth?

And it has a top flying speed of 130 miles per hour.

De Havilland?

The engine, Charlie.

It does have one, I hope.

Oh, yes.

And wings?

At least two.

How much?

Five hundred pounds.

They're over a thousand new.

Mechanic says she's in mint condition.

Only six hours flying time.

Why so low? What's wrong with her?

Nothing. Mother bought it for me.

Vic promised to teach me to fly, but he never came back from the w*r.

Anyway, I get giddy standing on a chair so it's been gathering dust in a hangar for years.

So why sell it now?

I need cash.

Mother keeps the purse strings very tight.

I just need to attend to something.

You promised me a dance, Charlie.

I hope you haven't lured me here under false pretences.

I shouldn't worry about any shortage of potential dance partners.

Back in a jiffy.

Who are those charming gentlemen?

Charles, what's wrong?

What's going on?

I'm in a situation.

It's a little sordid.

I specialise in those.

I wonder if I might have the pleasure of this dance?

No, you run along. It can wait.

Well, don't go too far.

My compliments on the band, Mr Stone.

The devil's music.

Must compliment the devil on his taste.

Somebody help!

Leonard, speak to me!

Len!

What's going on?

Had he passed out?

Somebody call the police.

Oh, no, no.

Well, well, Miss Fisher.

Nice to see you too, Jack.

Another m*rder, no less.

Let's not make a habit of it.

His name's Leonard Stevens and he appears to have been stabbed.

Do we know by whom?

We were all dancing and he just collapsed mid-song.

That's his dance partner over there.

Do we have a m*rder w*apon?

No, but rather a suspicious lot of cash to be carrying around, don't you think?

You went through his pockets.

I have a mind to charge you with interference.

Come on, Jack. I secured the scene.

Log it.

Let's see if we can come up with a w*apon.

And I want everybody searched.

The women too, sir?

There's no lady constable to call on, Collins.

Do your best.

He was going to marry me.

Sure he was, sugar.

And I'm the Queen of Sheba.

Look, there ain't nothin' here and there ain't nothin' here that's good enough for you.

Mm-hm.

Can't you take pity on him?

Make ME an honorary constable.

Uh, no, thanks.

Collins could do with the practice.

Has he asked Miss Williams to the Fireman and Policeman's Ball yet?

Not that I'm aware of.

Dotty wouldn't keep that to herself.

Hmm.

He tells me he's working on it.

So how well did you know Leonard Stevens?

Who said I did?

I thought from the comment you made to Pansy earlier...

He's been hangin' around this club since we started out a few weeks back and, uh, I've seen enough to know he's a creep.

Ah, Miss Fisher.

I see you've made Nerine's acquaintance.

Allow me to introduce Ben Rogers, the best cornet player in the Southern Hemisphere.

I know it's hardly the time or place, Mr Rogers, but I enjoyed your solo.

Easy, sugar. He's a married man.

Huh. What's the matter?

Ain't you ever seen a black and white married couple before?

As far as I'm concerned, everybody should be allowed to marry whomever they choose.

Though, personally, I'm not the marrying kind.

Make your way towards the exits, please.

I understand you're the band leader.

Did you see anything from the stage?

I was dancing with Miss Fisher.

I thought Mr Freeman was your dance partner.

In fact, where is Mr Freeman?

He couldn't cope with the sight of blood and rushed to the gents to retch his heart out.

Constable.

So, good vantage point from up there.

Do you recall seeing anything?

I remember Nerine, all those glasses smashing...

When my baby's hopped up on jazz, he don't remember nothin'.

No-one left in the gents, sir.

Left the scene of the crime.

Interesting.

It's all over the newspaper, miss.

Your friend, Mr Freeman, he's wanted for questioning.

Did he do it? Mr Freeman?

The m*rder?

I wouldn't have thought Charles the type, but then I have no idea why he chose to escape out the bathroom window.

Was Constable Collins there, miss?

Yes, Dot. Dashing as ever.

And I must tell you, Dot, Mr Collins wants to invite you to the Fireman and Policeman's Ball.

Oh.

Well, he's leaving his run a bit late. It's this Saturday.

Yes, well, he might need some encouragement.

Like what?

You might need to invite him instead.

Me ask him?

It's just not how it's done.

Poppycock.

A Mrs Adele Freeman on the telephone.

She's most insistent she speak with you about her son, Charles.

Mrs Freeman won't be long.

If only Vic was still with us.

Thank you for coming so quickly.

I've been worried sick about Charles.

Still no word, I take it?

No, nothing.

Oh, Phryne, I can't believe it.

They think my Charlie a m*rder*r.

They'll hang him. I know they will.

I-I can't lose another son.

I'll do whatever you want, pay any fee.

Don't worry, Mrs Freeman.

I'll do my best to protect Charles.

Thank God.

And no payment will be necessary.

Vic and I were very close once.

That's enough for me.

Well, thank you, child. Thank you.

Oh... A-a-a sherry?

Did you know a Leonard Stevens?

The m*rder*d man? No.

Charles never mentioned him?

Not that I recall.

I saw them talking together at the club.

The conversation got quite heated.

I need you to prove my son's innocence, not guilt.

Do you have any idea where he is?

Charles has a set of friends... frivolous, idle young men who have no thought to work.

Life for them is one big celebration.

Anyone he might have confided in?

You could try speaking with Bobby Sullivan.

He and Charles are thick as thieves.

So all we've got to go on is this Sullivan bloke, lodges somewhere in Richmond?

From what I know. But he's not fond of work and likes a bit of a party.

And Mrs Freeman mentioned that Charles and Bobby play competition darts at a hotel somewhere near Sullivan's flat every Thursday.

Gonna be hard to track him down on that much information.

Kingston Pub runs a big darts comp.

Good! Now someone's thinking.

I'll leave it in your capable hands, gentlemen.

This wound is small and unusually neat.

There's no tearing present, suggesting that the angle of att*ck was more likely horizontal... like a rapier.

There was no swordplay at the Green Mill last night.

Horseplay on the other hand...

Hello, Jack, Constable Collins, Doctor Johnson.

I-I'm afraid this won't do.

I have never seen a woman set foot inside this building in my time.

Miss Fisher is under the mistaken impression she's part of the Victorian Constabulary.

Come on, Jack.

Mrs Freeman asked me to look for her son, and I promise to share any leads I come up with during my own investigation.

You may stay... on the proviso you utter not one word.

Do you follow?

Most likely the w*apon was some sort of thin Kn*fe, a stiletto, perhaps.

Or a hat pin?

It's possible.

Constable?

Uh, I'm afraid there were so many women, sir, I-I didn't think to check.

You seem so certain that Charles is guilty but pray, tell me, what was his motive?

Witnesses saw them arguing.

Perhaps his motive was money?

Then why did he leave the cash behind?

Perhaps because you fished it out of the deceased's pockets before he had the opportunity, Miss Fisher.

Charles needed cash. He practically begged me to buy his plane.

But I don't believe he's capable of v*olence.

His record speaks otherwise.

He has a record?

He was recently charged with affray.

Punched a man in a public bar.

Do we know who this man was?

The deceased, Leonard Stevens.

Who's our guest?

Won her in the darts comp.

Congratulations!

We tracked down your Sullivan bloke.

He's waiting in the parlour, miss.

Thank you.

Chicken fricassee tonight, Mr Butler?

Don't you listen to her, Mildred.

I went to a party directly from the Green Mill.

Didn't get in till the wee hours.

Paying for it now, of course.

Ghastly hangover.

A m*rder?

Not long after you left.

Good God.

Who was the victim?

A man called Leonard Stevens.

The police think Charles is guilty.

What?!

Charlie wouldn't hurt a fly.

Apparently, that's not true.

What was going on between Charles and Leonard Stevens?

I don't know anyone by that name.

That's odd.

I swear I saw the three of you in a rather heated discussion at the Green Mill.

I think you've got me mistaken for someone else.

Now, if you've finished with me...

I'm late for a lunch.

Don't let me keep you.

Bye, Mr Sullivan.

It was a fluke!

Come on, then.

Show me how it's done.

We need to put a tail on Mr Sullivan.

As much as I like to live dangerously, let's lose the darts.

Good. Stay back.

I'll be fine from here.

Stevens had no listing, sir, but I asked around.

I'll drive, Collins.

Take the next left, sir.

That looks like it.

Corner of Highbury Road.

And I believe that's Miss Fisher.

Oh. Miss Fisher.

What are you doing here?

I could ask you the same question.

Please give that back.

It belongs to me.

Most interesting, given that this is Leonard Stevens's apartment.

I don't want to have to hurt you.

Turning to break and enter, are we, Miss Fisher?

Hello, Jack.

Actually, I don't think I've broke anything.

The window was already open.

And like Peter Pan, you just flew in.

Actually, Bobby came in first and I just followed him.

Bobby Sullivan, meet Inspector Robinson.

Bobby was at the Green Mill last night and he's a very good friend of Charles Freeman's.

What's your story?

Hand it over.

Is that...

Oh! Dear God.

Break and enter? You're not seriously going to charge me?

Uh, Miss Fisher, please.

If you could stand as still as possible, that would be much appreciated.

Thank you.

Steady, and one, two...

Miss Williams.

At last, my visitor!

Dot, what have you brought me for lunch?

I thought you were telephoning your solicitor.

My solicitor can't cook.

Oh.

Will that be all, miss?

Yes. Thank you, Dot.

Why don't you show Miss Williams out?

Just...

It's alright if you're busy.

I can... wait.

OK.

Ci...

City South Police Station.

Constable Collins speaking.

Let's see.

Try this gratin, Jack.

You're not taking the situation seriously.

I haven't taken anything seriously since 1918.

Shouldn't you be clapping me in irons?

Too much paperwork.

If I feed you some more, may I see what's in that folder?

Mmm.

Did you know Charles was a h*m*?

Well, I do enjoy having SOME effect on a man, and my powder was clearly wasted on Charles.

The photos were taken by Leonard Stevens.

He was extorting money from them both.

So you think that gives Charles a motive?

It gives Bobby Sullivan a motive too.

What will become of them?

Aside from being m*rder suspects, they'll stand trial for sodomy and, if found guilty, serve time.

A jail sentence for loving someone.

I am the servant of the law, not its master.

Well, in this case, the law is an ass.

He'd been blackmailing us for months.

Up until last night, Charles had been the one making all the payments to Leonard.

Each one was supposed to be the last.

But it never was.

No.

I told Leonard we had nothing left.

Not that he believed us.

He said he would go to the papers with the photographs.

Is that when you'd had enough?

He had the plates hidden somewhere.

Couldn't go to the police or we'd end up in jail anyway.

We were trapped.

And that's why you broke into Leonard's apartment?

Once I knew Leonard was dead, I knew the police would be going over his affairs.

I wanted to b*at them to the photographs.

Do you think Charles k*lled Leonard Stevens?

I wouldn't blame him if he had.

Poor dear Charlie.

If the money on Leonard Stevens's body wasn't Charles's, whose was it?

I suspect Leonard had quite a number of unwilling contributors to his bank account, including a Mrs Freeman.

Charles's mother?

I contacted Leonard Stevens's bank for a copy of his financial transactions.

Apart from a whole lot of unexplained cash, it seems Mrs Freeman had been sending a cheque every month for the last two years.

Maybe Charles persuaded her to help him.

A mother's shame, perhaps?

And she grew tired of digging him out of trouble.

So his lifeline ran dry.

And he became desperate.

Desperate enough to try and sell you a plane you don't want.

Perhaps desperate enough to k*ll someone.

Who says I don't want that plane?

Here. You take this.

You have that lean, hungry look.

Come on, Dot.

Yes, miss.

So, Collins, did you ask Miss Williams to the ball?

I, uh...

I'm not sure about her, sir.

Good God, man. It's just a dance, not a proposal of marriage.

I-I think...

I think she might be a Catholic, sir.

Oh, for God's sake. It's not as if she were born with two heads.

Well, that would be preferable in the eyes of my mother.

I telephoned. Bert and Cec should be here any minute now.

I've got a job for you, Dot.

Is it dangerous, deceitful or dodgy?

This one's almost devout.

St. Anthony's in Alphington.

Sound like your lot?

Definitely.

The one by the railway line.

Find out if any wedding banns have been posted recently under the names of our dead man Leonard Stevens and a Miss Pansy Annabelle Shore.

You take the cab.

When you're done at the church, meet me at Mrs Freeman's.

Mrs Freeman, you told me you didn't know Leonard Stevens.

I don't see how it's relevant.

Not relevant?

Your son has been accused of his m*rder.

Leonard Stevens used to work for the family, claimed he was an accountant, but he was nothing but a scoundrel and a cheat.

I dismissed him.

That was a long time ago.

Well, he's been paid a princely sum from your personal cheque account for the past two years.

You clearly knew him well.

And you have remarkably few regrets about his death.

I don't like your tone.

And I don't like being lied to.

Were you protecting Charles?

Charles was also paying off Leonard Stevens.

Charles?

I presumed you knew all about it.

Leonard Stevens was in possession of compromising photographs.

Evidence of Charles's particular disposition... when it came to his choice in lovers.

Charles is of no particular disposition.

He has just not found the right woman yet.

I don't know that he will ever intend to find the right woman or... any woman at all if the photographs are anything to go by.

Oh. Where are these photographs now?

With the police.

My Charlie?

So, how was church?

Mr Stevens and Miss Shore's wedding was cancelled a day after the banns were posted.

Father Kenny thinks the groom got cold feet.

So Pansy's a jilted bride?

How interesting.

Thank you, Dot.

'Pansy'.

It's a very appropriate name for someone in your line of business.

I've already told the coppers everything I know.

Clear off.

I've got a living to make.

Your fiance made a very comfortable living out of keeping other people's secrets nice and safe... for a price.

Leonard never talked shop with me.

I suppose you were too busy making wedding plans that never came to pass.

Must have been disappointing, ordering the invitations for your big day only to have Leonard get the jitters and call the whole thing off.

It wasn't called off, it was postponed.

Leonard had a business trip.

Shows how much you know.

A business trip?

Still, if I'd been in your shoes...

My shoes?

What would you know about anything?

You, with your fancy clothes and your good looks.

You can have any man you like.

Girls like me, it's not so easy.

Irises for the wife, sir?

I'll take the lot.

Did Leonard have other girlfriends?

Oh, what do you reckon?

He was a charmer.

Then I wouldn't blame you for wanting to wring his neck.

There was one girl.

Could smell her perfume on him a mile off.

Sickly smell. Like dead roses.

I don't recall inviting you into my dressing room.

I'll overlook it just this once.

Nice fragrance. What is it?

Midnight Rose.

Did Len like it?

Sorry, your husband's name's Ben, isn't it?

Girl, you must be half-fried, 'cause you ain't makin' any sense.

His fiancee seemed to think he was sweet on you.

I am a happily married woman, and even if I wasn't, I would hardly break the bonds of a marriage for a sap like Leonard Stevens.

Nobody I know liked that man.

Even the night he was bumped off, someone had him cornered out back with a p*stol in his neck.

Do you mean Charles Freeman?

Not that Ethel.

I know Charlie. It was some, uh, mug with a big hat and a scarf.

Why didn't you tell the police?

Why would I tell the cops anything?

I hardly got a look at the mystery man.

But you know if I did, and if he did pull that trigger, I still wouldn't tell the cops.

What on Earth did Leonard Stevens have on you?

Everything alright?

Everything's fine, honey.

Miss Fisher was just admiring my perfume.

So were they married here or in America?

Here. Nerine's from Virginia.

They don't allow interracial marriages.

I hosted the wedding myself.

That's kind of you.

I was looking after number one.

I secured the best jazz singer in the business.

May I borrow this photograph?

I'll consider it, if you'll consider allowing me to... escort you home.

Sonny Clay's Plantation Orchestra.

Hit the Tivoli circuit in Sydney a few weeks ago.

But then they're heading down to Melbourne.

I've read about them.

35 black musicians.

Must be quite a band.

A big hit with the ladies, so I hear.

Must have made them very popular with the authorities.

Ah, that's nothing a jazz man can't handle.

You have me thoroughly syncopated, Mr Stone, but I'm not ready to swoon just yet.

That's a shame.

How about you tell me what Leonard Stevens knew about Nerine Rogers?

You're the band manager. What you don't know isn't worth knowing.

He must have had something on her.

A skeleton in the closet?

A shameful secret?

Maybe she was wanted by the police.

I'm gonna have to get my head right.

I'm not quite following you.

What's the matter, Mr Stone?

Cat got your tongue?

Still no firm suspects, miss?

Too many suspects, Dot.

That's the problem.

There's Bobby, Pansy, Charles, Nerine.

Mrs Freeman has her reasons, and Tintagel Stone knows more than I can coax out of him.

It's as if Leonard Stevens had a target on his back.

Could you pass me my magnifier please, Dot?

Nerine said she saw a man threatening Leonard Stevens in the laneway.

A man with a large hat and a scarf.

It can't be.

That's a fly-boy's scarf if ever I've seen one.

Aviators wear them.

And is that so mysterious, miss?

It is when the aviator's supposed to be dead.

Dot, get me the number for the Repatriation Department.

Oh, and, Dot, Constable Collins will be coming to collect this photograph.

Would you mind dealing with him?

I'll try my best, miss.

Victor Freeman.

Miss Williams...

Morning, Constable Collins.

Uh, Miss Fisher asked to me to give this to you.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

And I'm sure she wouldn't mind you borrowing this magnifying glass should you need to see the details.

Well, we have magnifiers down at the station.

Uh, much appreciated, all the same.

Oh. Oh, well, suit yourself then.

And these scones.

They're warm from the Kooka with Mr Butler's mulberry jam and clotted cream.

Thank you.

Um, I-I was wondering if...

I mean, would you...

I suppose what I'm trying to ask is... is would you...

Oh, for goodness sake, Hugh Collins.

Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Fireman and Policeman's Ball?

No. I mean, yes!

Yes! But no, I'm supposed to ask you.

Well, we could all die waiting for that to happen.

And I have to sew my dress.

And all this time, I thought you'd never be seen with a Protestant.

Um... Protestant?

You being Catholic, that is?

Oh, well... Um...

Well, it's not like I was born with two heads, is it?

No.

And it's just a dance, after all.

That's right.

No harm in a dance.

Anyone home?

Hello?

Stop this nonsense at once.

Leave me alone, Mother.

I'm warning you.

Charlie, this is a fool's business.

You must turn yourself in before the situation gets out of hand.

It's already out of hand!

I'm a wanted man, Mother.

Half the Victorian Police are hunting me.

You can't outrun them, Charles.

What are you doing here?

Your mother's right.

Running's not the solution.

I'm not gonna let them slip a noose around my neck.

You'll never make it.

All the ports are on alert.

Then I shall go out in a blaze of glory.

I don't think that's an option your brother would approve of.

Is it, Mrs Freeman?

I made a telephone call to Repatriation.

Oh, no, please. This is unnecessary.

You weren't the only one being blackmailed by Leonard Stevens, Charles.

He got to your mother too.

She has secrets of her own.

Don't listen to her, Charlie.

Tell him!

It's the only way to stop this.

Vic didn't die in the w*r.

He was sh*t down over Ypres.

He was wounded, but he didn't die.

He's been living on a w*r pension.

No, he was k*lled in action.

For seven long years, I thought so too.

When I found out he was alive, I was over the moon.

An old neighbour saw him.

He was shearing up in Talbotville.

I don't understand.

Why didn't he come home?

Well, I don't understand either.

You know, I pleaded with him.

But it was no good. He wanted his solitude more than his own family.

That's what the w*r did to him.

You let me think he was dead?!

He didn't want anything to do with us, Charlie.

How could I tell you that?

I deserved the truth!

I paid up to keep your brother's secret, until Stevens wanted more.

That's when Vic came to town.

I was so afraid he'd do something terrible.

What has he done?

He was seen at the Green Mill the night Stevens d*ed.

No, Vic wouldn't k*ll a man.

We don't know him anymore, Charlie.

He may have done it, he may know who did.

Either way, we have to find him.

Where is he?

Charlie, there's no point.

Where in Talbotville?

I want the exact address!

Charlie!

I'll find it.

Talbotville's at least a day's drive.

You know how to fly.

I'm a bit rusty.

Contact.

Contact.

It was considerate of Miss Fisher to provide a photograph of the night in question, though I'm not sure how it helps.

This telegram might, sir.

It's from the police department in Jamestown, Virginia.

I made inquiries about Nerine Rogers.

Bigamy?

Her previous husband is a Jacob Reid and he's listed on the marriage certificate as deceased.

Only he's not dead.

Could be the secret that Leonard Stevens wanted to blackmail her with.

Good work, Collins.

Let's get her in.

Better start looking for somewhere to put her down.

Ten years I thought you were dead, Vic.

I can't sleep without waking up in a lather imagining you all alone, dying in a ditch somewhere.

Charles is on the run from the Victorian Police on suspicion of m*rder.

He's a little overwrought.

Hello, Vic.

It's been a while.

Tell me why you did it.

Give me the g*n, Charlie.

Tell me why you made us suffer.

I'll put the billy on.

Not one letter.

Did you wonder about us, about me?

All the time.

Some way to show it.

I came back to Melbourne.

When?

Three years ago, when Mother tracked me down.

She could hardly look at me.

All she did was sob.

I saw you arrive from the window.

I left before you came in.

But you saw him again, Vic.

A few days ago, at the Green Mill.

Yes, I was there.

Why?

To see Leonard Stevens.

He was blackmailing Mother, said he'd tell you I was alive.

But money was never gonna be enough to end it.

She was frightened.

I had to do something.

Did you k*ll him? Leonard Stevens?

No, of course not.

Well, somebody did, Vic.

And right now your brother is a wanted man because he also had a motive to k*ll Stevens.

What motive?

Charlie?

He found out I had a lover.

You might remember him.

Bobby Sullivan.

You see?

Mother wanted her hero, but you never came back, Vic.

Not for her, not for me.

Look at you.

And look... look at the kind of man I turned out to be.

That's all she's got.

Charlie...

He won't get far.

Not unless he learns how to fly.

You flew my mother's plane?

Luckily, my skills have improved since the first time you took me up.

Do you remember asking me to visit your brother... if you didn't make it?

It took me ten years, but I kept my promise.

You haven't changed.

Neither have you.

Still dashingly handsome... in the right light.

What's this all about?

We just have a few questions, Mrs Rogers.

Or is it Mrs Reid?

Nerine, you don't have to say anything.

They can't force you.

I suggest you stick to playing the banjo and leave the law to me, Mr Stone.

Look, anything you want to ask her, you can say in front of me.

If that's the way you both want it.

Maybe you should wait outside, honey.

Why? You've... you've got nothing to hide.

We've finally found out what you didn't want anyone to know.

What?

What are you talking about?

In this country, and, I believe, in yours, bigamy is a jailable offence.

What? You're already married?!

It's not how you think.

I was 16 and a fool when I married Jake.

I didn't know what I was getting into.

No! No, no, no.

No, I don't want to hear this.

What else have you lied about?

Nothin'!

None of this changes what we have.

I've only ever loved you.

Jake Reid was a drunken animal, OK?

He used to b*at her like a dog.

He wouldn't give her a divorce.

Hey! Hey!

You let me marry her knowing she was already taken, hmm?

You guys wanted to be together.

I was just trying to help.

You helped yourself.

Getting us hitched was good for the business, wasn't it?

You mercenary bastard.

You know, I always thought you were a hack musician, but you sure played me.

Stay here, Collins, and take notes.

Let's move onto the topic of Mr Leonard Stevens.

You recall him - large, boorish, dead.

Let's call a spade a spade.

You wanna know if I k*lled him.

Did you?

Well, sure I did, and I'd do it again.

Low-down dog deserved it.

What did you do with the w*apon?

Smuggled it out in my garter.

Honey, it was so far up my thigh, I would have slugged you if you even tried.

Later that night, I got rid of it.

Where?

Inside the cistern above the ladies' john.

How'd you k*ll him?

I stabbed him.

Show me. Stand up.

Pretend this is the Kn*fe.

Show me how you did it.

Imagine I'm Stevens.

I was moving through with my drinks, and as I passed him, I just stabbed him.

One more time.

Are you sure you remember correctly?

It ain't something I'm likely to forget.

A word outside, Collins.

One moment, Mrs Rogers.

The angle of att*ck is all wrong.

You don't think she did it?

No, she's protecting someone.

Question is, who?

Her husband, the cornet player?

That's what I thought too, but he was on stage the whole time.

And too far away.

Better take a car to the Green Mill.

See if you can find the w*apon where she said.

The police really think Charles is capable of m*rder?

My money was on you.

I gave him a scare, that's all.

I keep trying to piece together what happened.

Nerine looked back at the band... the glasses smashed, the cornet went awry, Pansy screamed, Leonard slumped, and then all hell broke loose.

So what was Ben doing that worried Nerine so much?

You must be half-fried 'cause, uh, you ain't making any sense.

I think we should head home at first light.

How will you clear Charles's name?

I think I know who k*lled Leonard, and I have an idea how.

Stay here with me, Charlie.

Even if Phryne can get you off this m*rder charge, they're still gonna lock you up.

So what do I do? Hide out here while Bobby faces jail by himself?

I can't do that.

You're right, Charlie.

Hiding's for cowards.

You're a braver man than I am.

Dear Lord, I beseech you to look after the little orphans and those with less than I and those without good health and the zebra in the zoo... you know, the one with the gammy leg... and... if after all that, Lord, you still have some time, perhaps... perhaps you could send Mr Collins some kind of sign.

You know, to let him know you're Catholic.

See, he's made modifications here and here.

I don't know who has the more fanciful imagination...

Rogers for coming up with it, or you for working it out.

Jack! Me, obviously.

Hmm.

Show in Mr Rogers please, Constable.

Man himself.

Your instrument, I believe.

And our m*rder w*apon.

So what? Doesn't prove a thing.

You're jumping the g*n.

No-one's accusing you.

We already have our m*rder*r.

Your wife gave us a full confession.

Nerine? I don't believe you.

Your wife's statement.

It's all there in black and white.

She confessed to everything.

She k*lled him because he was blackmailing her about the bigamy.

He demanded sexual favours and she had no choice but to submit.

Stevens is the real scoundrel in this.

Damn shame she'll hang.

Why... why would she...

Amazing what people will do for love.

She didn't do it.

We were hoping you'd do the gentlemanly thing.

Stevens started sniffing around the first night we played at the Green Mill.

Come in, please, Collins.

But Nerine always had her gaggle of admirers.

So I didn't pay him too much notice.

But one day, I caught them.

She denied it, of course, but I knew.

Help! Somebody help!

I thought she loved him.

Absolutely divine, Dot.

You're such a clever girl.

Now for the finishing touch.

Beautiful.

Oh, no, miss. I'll go and take it off. It's too much.

A Mr Collins for Miss Williams.

Hello, Hugh.

Not bad for a Catholic.

You summoned me, Inspector Robinson.

Yes.

Found these plates underneath the floorboards of Leonard Stevens's apartment.

And what do you want me to do with them?

Have them incinerated.

I thought your hands were tied.

Yes, but yours are not.