03x05 - A Night to Remember

[bunniefuu]

Once again, thank you
all for coming to this,

our annual charity dinner
for returned servicemen.

We celebrate this club's
commitment to Queen and country,

in raising funds for the
men who fought so bravely.

Thank you, Cec.

Doctor.

Christopher, just in time.

And please, it's Lucien.

- Our special guest tonight...
- Hello.

...needs no introduction.

Hollywood's calling her, but she
has decided to be with us tonight.

So, please welcome,
performing Electra,

with assistance from the
Ballarat Drama Society,

Miss Jacqueline Maddern.

I must be a sl*ve again
against my father's murderers.

But never, never will I enter
the house to dwell with them.

Nay, at these gates,
I will lay me down,

and here, without a
friend, my days shall wither.

Therefore, if any in the house
be wroth, let them slay me.

For it is a grace if I
die, but if I live, pain.

I desire life no more.

Bravo!

Bravo!

Lucien, what's happened?

Good Lord.

- She's gone.
- No!

Please, everyone, I
need you to move back.

You heard the Chief
Superintendent. Some room, please.

Well?

You see here? Reddish
spots just inside her mouth.

Petechiae. Usually a
sign of poisoning, correct?

Yes, that's right.

Are you ruling out
natural causes, Doctor?

Well, it would take an autopsy
to be certain, but... yes, yes, I am.

Now whoever did this

must still be in the building.
We need to secure the club.

If you say so. Come with me.

Jean, are you all right?

Yes, I think so. Mattie,
where's Christopher gone?

He's at the bar, but...

I'm sorry, can I help you?

- What's happened?
- It's all right, Lucien.

- They're friends of Miss Madden's.
- I do beg your pardon.

That's Warwick Simpson, her
theater director and Pamela Gilchrist.

Pamela Gilchrist.
And who is she?

Her closest friend.

Is this really necessary?

I believe so.

Cec, you know the
Chief Superintendent.

Er, yes, sir.

How many ways
out of the building?

Only the front door, sir. You've
been here the whole time?

Yes, sir. Has anyone
left the building?

- No, sir.
- Then stay here.

No-one leaves until I say.
You have a telephone?

Yes, sir, in the boardroom.

- I'll show you.
- Thank you, Patrick.

Ah, here he is.

Not quite the evening
we planned, I'm afraid.

Happy birthday, Mum.

Christopher, how are you?

How's Ruby?

She's tired.

Have you spoken to your brother?

Doctor. We've locked the doors.
What do you propose we do now?

Well, I'd... I'd assumed we'd
be taking the body to the morgue.

Securing the club means
exactly that. The body stays here.

- Excuse me.
- Yes, Mr...?

Sergeant, Nelson. It's
not for me to tell you, sir,

but don't you think it best that
we move this body immediately?

These people are civilians.

This kind of
proximity to death...

It simply won't do.
You're quite right.

The billiard room, I think.

Fine.

- Son, why don't you get the feet?
- Of course.

Thank you, Christopher.
It's very decent of you.

Very good, gentlemen.

Take the head. Right,
lift. Right, this way.

Your attention, please. By
request of our Police Surgeon,

can I ask you all to remain
here for the moment?

I'll be speaking to
each of you in turn.

In the meantime, Mr Tyneman
has assured me the club facilities

- will cater for you.
- How long will this take?

As long as necessary.

Easy does it.

There you go.

You all right?

Yes, of course.

Who was that man, the one
addressing the members?

William Munro.

Chief Superintendent of Police.

He's your boss?

In a way, yes.

I saw her perform
once, in Korea.

She was magnificent.
How long do you think

- they'll keep us here?
- As long as we need to.

Access to this room
will be restricted to police

and medical personnel only.

Christopher was
just assisting me.

Christopher...

Beazley, sir.

I'll need to talk to you in
due course, Mr Beazley.

For now, please
wait in the auditorium.

I was hoping to use the phone,
sir, in the office, to call my wife...

Not now.

Hobart and Davis
are on their way.

When they get here,
I'll start the interviews.

What sort of poison
should we be looking for?

Well, without a full
autopsy, bloods, saliva.

Well, then take those samples.

I still haven't established
how she was poisoned.

Should we be looking
into what food she's eaten?

That'd be a good
place to start, I'd say.

We rehearsed before the show,
but then she wanted to be alone.

What's this?

Actually, that's brandy.

Miss Maddern said it
relaxed her vocal cords.

Did you see her using it?

Yes, about an hour
before the show.

Ah hour? You're quite sure?

At least.

Right. In that case...

- Blake!
- Lucien!

I'm kidding. It's not
brandy. Armagnac.

Not my preferred
drop, but expensive.

That could have been poisoned.

If she used it over an hour
ago, I can tell you it wasn't.

Ah, my nephew,
sir, Stuart White.

- Who's on the door, Mr Drury?
- One of your officers, sir.

Sergeant Davis asked
that I let you know he's here.

Good. I'll need you to lock this
dressing room door after we leave.

You delivered this food?

- Yes, sir.
- Who gave it to you?

- A lady, sir.
- What lady?

Son.

I don't, I don't know.

Cec, it's all right. Let's take a
look around the kitchen, shall we?

Yes, sir.

Can I help you there?

- Hell of a night, eh?
- Yes, Mr...?

Reynolds. Yes, a terrible thing.

Just as she was about
to take on the world.

Is that so?

About to bugger off
overseas, so I'd heard.

What you know a bit about
Jacqueline Maddern, Mr Reynolds?

- It's in the papers.
- Right.

Well, at the moment,

we're still asking people
to wait in the auditorium.

Look, Sergeant, I realize
you have a job to do here.

So do I. Reckon we could come
to some sort of arrangement?

Are you offering a
bribe, Mr Reynolds?

Of course not. I was just
looking for my notebook.

- Right.
- You have a pencil I could borrow?

Hey! Hey!

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

You going somewhere?

- Anything?
- No, not yet.

According to Mr Drury, all the
kitchen staff have worked here

at least five years. Nothing
to link them to the victim.

Right. And the sandwiches?

- Supervised.
- By whom?

- That would be me.
- Mrs. Tyneman, we're trying

to establish what food Miss
Maddern ate before she d*ed.

Well, Jacqueline
was very particular.

I bought the ingredients,
supervised the preparation

and then I handed them
to that young man there.

That's the woman.

After that?

You'd have to ask him.

Susan, did you
know Miss Maddern?

Well, not socially.

Boss.

Sergeant?

Tried to leave
the premises, sir.

Driver's license says he's
Terry Reynolds from Ballan.

Mr Reynolds?

I've got a story to lodge.
I'm with the Melbourne press.

The Sun.

- Patrick. You know him?
- Right.

Stay in the auditorium
with the others.

Any trouble, I'll charge you
with hindering an investigation.

Understood?

Understood?

I'll be using the boardroom
to conduct interviews.

Of course.

- Chief Superintendent.
- What?

We need to get bloods
and saliva to the morgue.

Miss O'Brien is here, correct?

Yes.

Send her. You're staying.

Mind taking me to the boardroom?

Of course. This way.

I've known her for 15 years.
I've been her assistant for ten.

We met doing Annie Get Your g*n.

We were playing sisters.
We used to switch roles.

Did you see her
before the performance?

Always. It was her routine.

She would rehearse her lines,
I would prepare her wardrobe.

Then I would leave her to
do her make-up by herself.

What about before
her curtain call?

No. She preferred to be alone.

- Well, her and her audience.
- Did she argue with anyone

in the lead-up to
tonight's performance?

What?

- Jackie could argue with everyone.
- Like who?

Well, that strange boy who brought
the sandwiches, with Warwick...

Ah, Warwick Simpson.
He's a theater director.

She shouted at me
for crumpling her dress,

but she didn't
mean anything by it.

Tell me more about Mr Simpson.

He and Jackie were close once.

It ended badly, but he would
never do anything to hurt her.

Thank you, Miss Gilchrist. There
may be more questions later.

Thank you, Superintendent.

Doctor, do you
think I might see her?

To say goodbye?

Superintendent?

Yes, of course. I'll be
with you in just a moment.

Thank you.

And drive Miss
O'Brien to the morgue.

Make sure nothing
happens to those samples.

And tell Davis to bring Mr
Simpson in for questioning.

Right, boss.

Here's the play.
I'll rattle their cages,

you play the caring
country doctor.

I am the caring country doctor.

Then it shouldn't be
too great a stretch.

I had wondered why you
were keeping me around.

For the investigation.

- Mr Simpson?
- Yes?

I hear you hated Miss Maddern.

- Oh! Where did you get to?
- Looking for a phone to call Ruby.

It's only one night.

How long has it been since
you've been back here?

It's been a while.

Is Ruby looking after you?

Good. I know she finds it
difficult being an army wife.

You asked if I'd talked to Jack.

- How is he?
- He's working.

Really? And what
about that girl?

Well, I'm not sure
they're together any more.

- I know she lost the baby.
- Yes. Well, at least he has a job.

You know what he's like.

- What about you?
- I'm fine.

You listen to me.

Don't you bloody well
walk away from me!

I'm bloody warning you!

You don't know who you're
dealing with, son. This is blackmail.

- It's business.
- Don't give me that. Your bosses...

My bosses take this seriously.
Tell me, do the police already know?

Gentlemen. What's going on?

A trade disagreement.

Yeah, that's right.
I'll leave you to it.

Patrick.

Mind your own business, Blake.

Mr Reynolds, do you mind me asking
what all that was about out there?

Sorry, Doc, you'll have to
read about it in The Sun.

Right. Big star dies on stage.
Something along those lines?

What makes you think it's
about Jacqueline Maddern?

Call it a hunch.

Let's just say she's only a
supporting player in this one.

Rare for her.

Doctor, do you think
I could see her now?

Yes, of course.
I'm terribly sorry.

Please, come with me.

I ran through
her lines with her.

What sort of mood
was Miss Maddern in?

Excited. She was
preparing for her trip.

- Trip?
- To the United States.

She just had a role in
that big American picture

they were sh**ting here.

Oh, yes, the one about
the end of the world.

- The Nevil Shute book.
- Yes.

She made some terrific contacts.

But...

Can I get a brush
to fix her hair?

Yes, of course.

Thank you, Mrs Beazley.

Can I give you a word of
advice, Superintendent?

It might pay you to listen
to what the doctor has to say

on the odd occasion.

You ignore him
at your own peril.

Did I give you permission
to leave yet, Mrs Beazley?

May I offer some
advice of my own?

Of course.

Your son who's here tonight,

how long since he was in town?

Eight years.

And the night he arrives, we
suddenly have a dead body.

- Curious, isn't it?
- I beg your pardon.

Your other son, Jack.
Quite an extensive record.

He's not here as
well, by any chance?

Perhaps we should keep
our advice to ourselves.

- You've made yourself very clear.
- I'm glad. Wait in the bar.

I asked her to marry
me once. She... laughed.

Thought I was joking.

That must have hurt.

The dressing room's
been broken into.

Her handbag's been moved.

Yes, you're right, it has.

Are you familiar
with the contents?

- Yes. Would you like me to check it?
- Please.

Am I correct in saying
there's a lipstick missing?

Er, yes. And the key to
her hotel room's gone.

Well, perhaps she
left the key at the hotel.

Pamela was certain
she had it with her.

- So, a key and a lipstick?
- One's functional, one's personal.

Are you attempting
to build a picture

of our m*rder*r's
character here, Doctor?

Well, we need to
consider the setting.

Jackie was m*rder*d in public.

She d*ed on stage.

Isn't it possible the k*ller
deliberately chose to do it that way?

- You're wrong, I have considered it.
- And?

Until we find out more, you're
just guessing. Who's next?

We'll rule out some
basics. Cyanide, first.

Miss O'Brien, we'll need a solution
of para-benzoquinone in DMSO.

DMS what?

Dimethyl sulfoxide.

It's a solvent that dissolves both
non-polar and polar compounds.

And it can also be mixed

with a variety of other organic
solvents, as well as water.

A textbook answer.

- Right, and in English that is...?
- Powerful stuff.

How long exactly do they
intend keeping her body

on the billiard table?

- Not sure. Sergeant?
- As long as the boss says.

So, no idea. Dim the
lights please, Sergeant.

- What for?
- So I can do my job.

If you're afraid of the
dark, you can wait outside.

It's fun annoying the police
sometimes, don't you think?

So, what now?

If there's cyanide present,

the solution will become
fluorescent under ultraviolet light.

Blood is testing negative.

As is the sandwich.

Whatever k*lled her wasn't
cyanide. Thank you, Sergeant.

So, what next?

We keep going.

So, Sergeant Nelson.

Please, Murray.

You're still in the services?

I served in Korea. Fought
in New Guinea in the w*r.

You didn't seem too perturbed
by the body in front of you earlier.

I've seen my share of
dead bodies, Superintendent.

I see. And why is it you
were in Ballarat tonight?

I'm just like everyone
else, Superintendent.

I was here for the show.

Jean?

Jean?

The interview. It's
nothing, Lucien. I'm fine.

Oh!

Oh, I do apologize, Mr Drury.

Oh, no need, Sue. Please.

No, thanks, Cec,
but I'm quite all right.

Just leave it to him, Susan.

You can leave me alone. You have
done quite enough, thanks, Patrick.

Ah! Jesus, woman.
Don't be so damned silly.

Silly?

I didn't mean that.

I'm not the one who's
being silly, Patrick, am I?

Do you want me to go on?

No, didn't think so.

- Let me take a look at that hand.
- Go away, Blake.

Perhaps it's time
you told the police.

What do you think?

Now, come on, show
me that hand of yours.

How long have you been having
an affair with Jacqueline Maddern?

I wouldn't class
it as an affair.

It was a few years ago.

Jacqueline needed an
investor for one of her shows.

She was grateful.

I was flattered.

But she called it to an
end as quickly as it started.

It was just a fling for her.

And now Justin Reynolds
is writing an expose.

Justin Reynolds
works for The Sun.

They're against me for radio
licenses right across the state.

Patrick, when Susan
arranged for Jacqueline to be

a part of this
evening's event...

Coincidence.

I tried to discourage her.

Susan didn't know?

Not until tonight...

when Mr Reynolds so
helpfully informed her.

Was Miss Maddern
blackmailing you, Mr Tyneman?

What? No.

- Really?
- No.

Demanding payment
to keep your little secret?

- Superintendent, I think perhaps...
- That's enough, Blake.

The only attempt to blackmail
me has been by Justin Reynolds

and his employers.

Did you have any contact with
Miss Maddern before the show?

I sent her flowers.
But that's all.

Thank you, Mr Tyneman.
We'll be talking again, I'm sure.

Patrick? Patrick!

Not another word.

I wouldn't dream of it.

Superintendent, do you
honestly believe Patrick k*lled her?

He had reasonable motive.

So did his wife.

- Really?
- Apparently so.

I am sorry.

Keeping you here like
this. It just isn't right.

Please excuse me, won't you?

You've got to understand. Jackie
had her own sense of morality.

Clearly.

Chief Superintendent.

You understand that
I had to question you.

Of course.

You've known the doctor
sometime, haven't you?

He's been annoying me since
he was a kid. Why do you ask?

There was a view that his
services were indispensible.

That may have changed.

So that's why we've
been stuck in here.

To put him under pressure
in front of everyone?

I couldn't possibly
comment on police matters.

- Superintendent.
- What?

It was the roses.

I found puncture marks on
her chest. Small, certainly,

but if the poison was
powerful enough, then...

Cec. Those roses Jacqueline
had for the curtain call.

Oh, I instructed Stuart
to clear them away, sir.

- When?
- Just now, when the room was cleared.

- Where's he gone?
- He's in the kitchen, sir.

- Stu. Don't move.
- What?

Just hold right there.
And be very careful.

Stay out of this. You!
Put the roses down.

What's he talking about?

Would you like to explain why
you're wearing gloves, son?

Take him, Sergeant.

Stu! Stu.

We know you didn't do
anything. It's all right. We know.

The gloves. Take them off.

- No.
- Oh, please, sir.

Stu. You need to trust me.
Everything's going to be fine.

Isn't that right, Cec?

It's all right, son. Just
do what the doctor asks.

Let's just remove that glove,
eh, and have a look at your hand.

Psoriasis.

You can pop that glove
back on. Thank you, Stu.

I think it's pretty clear
he isn't capable of this.

Then where does that leave us?

Well done, Stu. Well done.

- Ah.
- What?

Along with fish and chips
and camping emergencies,

we've found another use for
one of Patrick's publications.

Look here, Charlie.

Here and here.
Something viscous.

Mmm, any idea what it might be?

No, not yet.

Well, better let the boss know.

Get on well with him, do you?

The boss? I guess so.

- Why?
- Very different to Lawson, isn't he?

Yeah, you could say that.

Well, better not
keep him waiting, eh?

Now, you see at the
bottom of the stems,

the thorns have
been snipped away,

making them
relatively safe to handle.

But up here, well, let's just say
young Stu was incredibly lucky.

Those gloves wouldn't
have protected him at all.

There was nothing to
indicate who sent them?

No, sir.

Davis, we need to contact
every florist in Ballarat.

It's possible the roses
were ordered by someone

- who wasn't even here tonight.
- No, the poisoner's here.

It would have been
way too risky to...

Coat the thorns before
they were delivered.

So, who delivered the flowers?

I know how we can find out.

Answer the question,
Mrs Beazley.

Yes, there were flowers
in the dressing room

before the performance,
but they weren't roses.

Jackie just grabbed the
roses and rushed back on.

- They're a tradition at curtain call.
- Yes, but who delivered them?

They were already there
before the performance.

Who else had access?

Warwick, of course, and Mrs
Tyneman, and that odd young man.

But I suppose anyone
could have wandered in.

Turn out your pockets,
please, Mr Simpson.

I beg your pardon?

- Empty your pockets. Now.
- Why?

If you have nothing to
hide, turn out your pockets.

That's the key to
Jackie's hotel room.

Explain that, Mr Simpson.

I took it so that I could try
and get my money back.

Your money?

Jacqueline refused to do the
show unless I paid her 100 quid.

Said she needed it for her
move to the United States.

Well, she was a
successful actress.

Who was always
hopeless with her money.

I was planning to
go and get it back.

It wasn't...

It wasn't any good to her now.

This all speaks to
motive, Mr Simpson.

You want motive?
What about Pamela?

Jacqueline was
dumping her. Warwick, no!

After all that you'd
given up for her,

she wasn't even going
to take you with her.

- Is this the truth, Miss Gilchrist?
- Of course it's not true.

Please, Superintendent.

Go search Miss Maddern's room.

Yes, boss.

Davis, find out who
bought those roses.

Yes, sir.

Superintendent, I really
need to use that telephone.

Mr Beazley, you're
to wait in the bar.

You got a family,
Superintendent?

None of your
business, Mr Beazley.

My wife's pregnant. First
baby, and she's finding it difficult.

- Well, have you noticed the time?
- I was expected home by now.

That is not my problem.

No, it's mine. And it'll be
easily solved with a phone call.

Please.

Is this how you conduct
yourself in the army?

Pardon?

Because in this situation,
I'm you're superior officer.

And suddenly remembering to
say please will not change my mind.

I would not do that if I
were you, Mr Beazley.

Fine.

The Doctor's right
not to trust you.

Thank you, Lieutenant.
That's all I need to hear.

Christopher, is
everything all right?

Why didn't you tell me?

Because Ruby doesn't
want anyone to know

- she's not coping, especially you.
- Why, especially me?

- Oh, come on, Mum. Why do you think?
- I've absolutely no idea.

Well, because you always make such
a thing about carrying on regardless.

And you made it pretty clear
you didn't have any time for her.

- She's very highly strung.
- She's my wife.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean
that the way it sounded.

I just wish you would
talk to me more often.

- At least with Jack, I always knew...
- Oh, it's always about Jack.

Especially when Dad d*ed.
That's all I ever heard about.

- He had such a hard time of it, and...
- We all did.

But some of us
didn't end up in jail.

I don't talk because
no-one's listening.

Oh, Christopher, I'm always
here for you. I love you.

I know you do. But
you love Jack more.

That's not true.

I just never felt I had to worry
about you the way I did about Jack.

He reminds me so
much of your father.

And who do I remind you of?

Me.

About time. Well?

No luck, sir.

Doctor Harvey said she wouldn't
be able to identify the poison

without seeing the body.

She also said she had to talk
to Blake. Actually, she insisted.

She's here? Fine. Let her in.

Where does she stand?

She seems pretty
tight with the doctor.

More on his side, than ours.
Makes it hard to do your job.

Station could do without that.

- Sure can, boss.
- Good work, Sergeant.

Munro.

- Davis here, sir.
- Where are you?

The station. It was quicker
to come here and call.

The money was in
Miss Maddern's room.

As were two plane
tickets to America,

one in Miss Maddern's name,
the other in Miss Gilchrist's.

So she wasn't leaving
Miss Gilchrist behind at all.

- Well, it doesn't seem that way.
- How'd you go with florists?

Ah, Flora on Sturt Street sold
the bunch of long-stemmed roses

that ended up at the club.

Rose thorns? It'd have to be
an incredibly powerful toxin.

An organic alkaloid, you say?

Could be. Or synthetic.

- Man-made?
- Frightening, but possible.

We'll need liver and
spleen samples to isolate it.

Agreed. Unfortunately,
we can't collect them here.

So I'd noticed.

I know, I know. I
don't approve either.

Keeping the body here like this.

Apart from anything
else, it's disrespectful.

Munro has his reasons, not
all of which are about the crime.

Mm? Do you want
me back there now, sir?

No, not yet, Davis.

We'll need more than
the word of a florist

to arrest a m*llitary
man in this club.

There's a notebook on my desk.

In it, you'll find the number
of Major Derek Alderton.

- Get it and call me back.
- Yes, boss.

- Munro.
- Got it, boss.

Phone number is XJ 7379.

Get back here as
soon as you can.

- Where the hell have you been?
- Yeah, sorry, boss.

Right. And the
Major was quite clear.

He described our man as
deeply damaged, and as such,

potentially extremely dangerous.

If it goes pear-shaped,
use any force necessary.

Superintendent.

We've managed a partial
analysis of the poison.

Save it for the report,
Doctor. We have a suspect.

Sergeant Murray Nelson.

I'm arresting you in relation to
the m*rder of Jacqueline Maddern.

- Hey, let her go.
- Mattie!

Take another step
and I'll snap her neck.

You don't want to do this.

You don't know anything.

I know she's having
trouble breathing.

You're a m*llitary man. This
isn't what you were trained to do.

Let her breathe.

Alice!

Secure the suspect.
Take him to the boardroom.

Take it easy.

Congratulations,
Chief Superintendent.

Thank you, Patrick.

Are you sure you're all right?

- I'm fine.
- I'm not convinced.

I'm just embarrassed.

Miss O'Brien, I
could use your help.

We need to call the hospital,
arrange for the body to be removed.

Of course.

Well, looks like a triumph
for the Superintendent, then.

Why did you poison
Jacqueline Maddern?

Hmm?

We met Murray
years ago in Korea.

Recently, I think he came to
several performances, but...

Did you tell the
police you knew him?

I can't be sure. I think so.

- Oh, honestly, I was so upset.
- Yes.

Doc, the boss would like
to see you in the boardroom.

Yes, of course.

- You can't read Korean by any chance?
- Korean?

I can.

I'll have to do a proper
analysis but it certainly

looks like the substance I
found on the rose thorns.

Can you read what it says?

It's a poem.

Let's all go...
Something, and soul.

Body. It's body and soul.

Let's all go, body and
soul, with no way of return.

On a vial of poison.
How romantic.

There were rumors in Korea
that both sides were experimenting

with chemical weapons.

Mr Nelson was recently
discharged from the army

due to a nervous condition.

We're going to need another
statement from Pamela Gilchrist.

Guessing she's
gone back to her hotel.

No, she's still here.

Bring her in, and tell
everyone else they can leave.

Take Mr Nelson down to
the station and charge him.

Chris, I understand you
needed to make a phone call.

Yes, I do.

No objection to Christopher using
the phone now, Superintendent?

Do as you like.

You realize, of course,
there are a number of things

that still don't add up.

I think you'll find
we're done, Doctor.

Will this take long, Sergeant?

I shouldn't think so,
ma'am. Right this way.

Mr Reynolds.

- Mr Reynolds.
- Susan.

I'm aware there are business
interests involved here.

- Is that correct?
- There are.

You will come by
Patrick's office tomorrow,

and he will offer you a job.

You'll find that more
than compensates

for the loss of your article.

And if I don't?

My friend, the Chief Superintendent,
will charge you with blackmail.

Is that understood?

Chatham House
rules, Mr Reynolds.

It doesn't go out of the club.

I'm tired of being
hurt like this, Patrick.

Take me home.

- How are you bearing up?
- Not too bad, thank you.

Your boy, Christopher, he
seems like a fine young man.

Thank you. Yes, he is.

Jean, just while I have you
here, can I show you something?

Tell me, what do you see here?

I see a photograph of a couple.

Jacqueline Maddern
and her k*ller?

Mm. That's all I
saw too, at first.

Look at that.

I still haven't worked
out how it happened.

Ah, Mr Simpson.

Goodbye, Princess.

That's all we need
for now, Miss Gilchrist.

Sergeant Davis will take
you back to your hotel.

Thank you,
Superintendent. I am so sorry

that I didn't mention
Mr Nelson earlier.

I could've saved you a whole
lot of time and trouble, couldn't I?

Yes. But then you wouldn't
have been able to give

such a stellar performance.
That's right, isn't it, Pamela?

- I'm sorry, Doctor?
- Blake! I told you, we're done.

No, we're not done, William.

You took this?

Borrowed it. Murray was in
love with Jackie, no doubt.

But once she dumped him, you
were there to pick up the pieces,

weren't you? That's
when he became...

addicted to you.

And you played him perfectly.

You convinced him to purchase
the roses, apply the poison.

You even had him
prepared to take the fall.

I have no idea what
you're talking about.

Murray was head over
heels in love with Jackie.

Once she'd finished with
him, she just threw him away.

Same as she'd done with Mr
Simpson and Patrick Tyneman.

- Superintendent...
- Luckily, you were there

to harness his fury, his rage.

But, of course, you had to
keep the ultimate act for yourself,

didn't you?

You k*lled her with an embrace.

Protecting yourself...

with this.

Holding it between
yourself and the roses.

Do you really
think that I would...?

- We were like sisters.
- No, you weren't.

She treated you like a
servant. Like hired help.

This is absurd.

Please, Sergeant, take
me back to my hotel.

Do you really think
Murray will stand by you,

once he's read that statement?

Oh, but of course you weren't
planning on sticking around anyway,

were you? You were going
to the States without Jackie,

going to a place where
you could reinvent yourself.

Where you could be in
the spotlight, for once.

But you overplayed it.

How dare you!

How dare you say that to me!

You stayed on the
stage far, far too long.

What would you know?

I was always the better actress.

She was the pretty one.

It's always the pretty ones
who get picked, isn't it?

You made sure everyone
would see her ugly final act,

or at least read about it.

You needed the press here. You
were Reynolds's anonymous source.

So what if I was?
She deserved it.

She was poisonous.

Poison deserves poison.

Come and have some breakfast.

Or at least have a
rest before you go.

Thanks, Mum.

Oh!

Cup of tea?

I don't think so, Mattie.

Come on.

Tell you something, your mother's
very excited about your new baby.

- Is she?
- Yes, she is.

Let her be a part of things, won't
you? She deserves some happiness.

- Mattie!
- Oh, we'd better get in there.

Oh, how about that? Yes.

For she's a jolly good fellow

For she's a jolly good fellow

For she's a jolly good fellow

And so say all of us.

What happened
to the cake, Mattie?

- Mm, I made it.
- Oh, it's lovely.

No, it's not. It's a mess.

- Mattie, what's this bit here...
- Shut up!

Come on, Jean.
Blow out the candles.

Heaven knows, we couldn't
afford to buy nearly enough...

- Lucien! Ignore him.
- I do.

Make a wish, Jean.

Bravo.