04x04 - Against the Odds

[bunniefuu]

Give us a lift, mate.

Cheers, mate.

Yes?

Good morning.

And to you.

Come, come in.

I'm afraid I've caused
you a lot of trouble.

No, of course you haven't.

You're cold, here.

Let's pop this on.

Here we are.

Please.

Sit down.

It seemed like, um, you were
close to collapse last night.

Are you, um...

Feeling much better, thank you.

You don't need to
be formal with me.

I'm out of practice.

I think we both are.

I searched for you, you know.

I knew you would.

I searched and searched.

17 years I...

All my contacts,
right throughout Asia.

I thought...

I thought I'd lost you both.

Oh, good Lord, of course, you...

Our Lee, she survived.

She's alive.

What?

Yes.

Our beautiful daughter, I
saw her just last year in China.

She can't be.

Yes, she is!

And she's a mother now.

Really?

Yes!

- Yes!
- Lee?

Yes, I promise you!

Come.

I know.

I know.

I know.

Lucien?

Not now, Jean.

Ah, the Chief
Superintendent is here.

Please excuse me.

- Frank.
- Lucien.

Haven't caught you
at a bad time, I hope?

Well, somewhat.

Oh, apologies,
but can't be helped.

You're required
down at the racetrack.

Apparently, a rider's
taken a fall and...

Do you really need me there?

Please, don't stay
on my account.

Chief Superintendent
Frank Carlyle,

this is Mei Lin, my wife.

Very pleased to
meet you, Mei Lin.

I'll get my things.

Straightforward fall.

Jockey d*ed instantly.

Alexander Martin.

Doesn't ring a bell.

Won the Ballarat Cup yesterday.

Horse is in a bad
way, from what I hear.

Really?

Well, perhaps you
should call a vet.

Perhaps I should.

Straightforward, you say?

Well, why do you want me there?

Oh, just to keep
an eye on things.

So, your wife?

Yes, Frank, it's a...

It's a very long story.

Yes, I expect it is.

Lucky Frank Carlyle.

Terrible business.

That it is, Terrence.

Never get used to it.

Ada's devastated.

Favorite rider, favorite horse.

After yesterday's trial.

Hmm.

Well, I'll see you
later, Terrence.

Hmm, that you will, Frank.

Who else was out
on the track with you?

Just me and Robyn
was in the stables.

Miss Heywood?

Bradley Tennant.

I manage the track.

This is Lucien Blake,
our police surgeon.

How do you do?

I'm guessing a
fractured spine, doctor?

Well, a little too early to say.

Hmm.

Robyn Dawson, Shane Heywood.

Did you see him fall?

Nah, I just heard
the horse screamin'.

I got there, then
Robyn come running up.

He was dead when we got to him.

Right, alright, well,
thank you very much.

Off you go.

Ah, shame about Alex.

Least he got to
win his last race.

Small mercies.

Had many falls here
lately, Mr Tennant?

Ballarat's a safe track for
a dangerous sport, doctor.

We take pride in that.

I won't keep you.

Gents, please.

I'll manage, Terry, it's fine.

You wanted to talk to me?

Just a few questions
if you wouldn't mind.

Of course.

Could you tell me what
time the accident happened?

Oh, I can't be sure.

Um, it was just
after sunrise, I think.

That's fine.

Any idea what may
have caused the fall?

No.

He'd only just come back from
a bad fall at the Spring Carnival.

He said he was
cleared to ride, Ada.

Yes, I know, but still.

I just know that not
being in the saddle

would almost drive him mad.

Well, it does sound like
there was no telling him.

That's right.

Thank you.

Well, thank you, ma'am.

And may I say, um,
congratulations on yesterday's win.

It was thoroughly deserved.

Oh.

Thank you, Chief Superintendent.

That's very kind of you.

Thank you.

Well, good day.

Frank, if I didn't
know better...

Oh, shut up.

Were you flirting with
her at the end there?

Well, she's a handsome lady.

You know, the first win
I ever had on the nags

was on a horse she trained.

Had a soft spot
for her ever since.

And what's she like as a person?

Tough job, training horses.

Respect is hard-won.

Especially if you're a woman.

She's obviously got yours.

Good morning.

Oh, good morning.

Come in.

I've made breakfast.

Bacon and eggs
and there's toast.

It's, uh, probably nothing
like you're used to.

No, it sounds lovely.

Please, sit.

Tea?

Please.

- This is marmalade?
- Mmm-hmm.

It's been such a long time.

Oh, forgive my ignorance,
I never imagined...

That a Chinese woman might
have a taste for marmalade?

My father tried to be more
British than the British.

A lot of us did.

Reminds me of childhood.

Won't you join me?

Oh, I'd better get to work.

Is there anything else
you need, Mrs Blake?

Thank you, but no.

Some of the damage to the
vertebrae appears to be antemortem.

See?

Signs of healing.

Yes.

Apparently, he'd just
come back after a nasty fall.

So this morning's fall
exacerbates the damage

and severs the spinal column.

Yes.

In fact, his doctors advised
him never to ride again.

Then he should
have known better.

Contusion to the
skull, rear left parietal.

From where the
horse rolled on him?

Possibly.

Bruising in a band
across the lower ribs.

Ah.

Maybe he hit the railing?

Wouldn't that be
more generalized?

- Well..
- Do you know how to cook?

That may well be the strangest
thing you've ever asked me, Alice.

I was told I should know
how to cook. Do you?

Well, I, not really, no.

Oh.

That's a shame.

You might be right
about that railing.

Ready?

Lungs.

Good condition.

Not a smoker, by the looks.

Rare, for a jockey.

Who said you should
know how to cook?

A registrar.

Why?

I was entertaining
and I burnt some meat.

Do you think Mrs
Beasley might teach me?

Ah, if I could call her...

You will not call.

You'll come over
for dinner, yes?

Good.

Alice, this is interesting.

Have a look.

Partial rupture of the liver,

but there's a significant
amount of blood in the cavity.

Which means it happened
quite some time prior to death.

He must have been
in tremendous pain.

We should certainly make
a note of that, I think, Alice.

Agnes?

The young fool on the
desk told me to wait here.

Um, thank you, Dr Harvey.

Now.

Everything alright?

No, Lucien.

It isn't.

You remember me talking to you

at hideous length,
I'm sure, about Lex?

Yes, your nephew.

He d*ed this morning.

Uh, Lex.

Alex, Alex Martin, goodness me.

I'm...

Oh, do stop fussing.

I'm fine.

Foolishly, I didn't
make the connection.

Well, why would you?

I wanted to inform you that I will
take care of all funeral expenses.

I'll pass it on.

Do that.

Agnes, forgive me for asking,
but did Alex ever talk to you

about anything questionable
going on at the track?

Well, it's horse racing.

Everyone's questionable.

He sustained an injury in
the hours before he d*ed.

The sort of thing typically
associated with fist fighting.

The police told me he fell.

On a training run.

Is that true?

Well...

What experienced rider
falls on a training run?

Very good.

Keep going, keep going, come on.

Keep going, that's it.

Good girl.

Good girl.

Come on.

Whoa.

Whoa, stop, stop, stop.

Come on.

Come on, girl.

Good girl.

That's it.

Good girl.

Ya!

So, what you're saying is someone
strings up a cable across the track?

Yes.

Must have been reasonably thick.

A thinner wire would've...

Well, would've caused
some kind of laceration.

So Martin rides apace
and doesn't see the cable.

Brings him down.

His vertebrae are
already weakened.

And the fall severs his spine.

So where's this cable?

Tyre tracks, Frank.

RECENT, TOO.

There you are,
about seven foot two.

And what was the
injury to the horse?

Just a broken leg, I hear.

Right.

The horse obviously
went under the wire

and Alex took the
impact on his chest.

Frank, did you know
something was going on?

Is that why you dragged
me down here this morning?

I already told you all this.

Won't take long, Mr Tennant.

Just double-checking
a few facts, alright?

So, who was on the
track this morning, sir?

Myself.

Ada had both the horses out.

Shane Heywood
and Alex Martin riding.

What about Robyn Dawson?

She was cleaning
out the stables.

You saw no-one else?

I told you, no!

Now, I've got work to do.

Trouble is, Mr Tennant,

Alex Martin's fall this
morning wasn't an accident.

It's now a m*rder investigation, so
probably best if you sit back down.

Hello, Robyn.

I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to startle you.

Beautiful animals, aren't they?

Goodness me, it must've
been terrible for you

to see that horse
put down today.

What was its name again?

Blue Monday.

Blue Monday, that's right.

Poor thing.

Robyn, what what
happened this morning?

I saw Mr Tennant and
he was talking to Shane.

The jockey who..

Who found Alex?

And then Shane goes out onto
the track and he chases Alex.

Why did he chase him?

Alex won the race yesterday.

That's right.

Shane came in second.

He hates losing.

Did they fight
yesterday after the race?

Why are you asking
all these questions?

Because someone strung
a cable across the track.

It caused Alex to fall,
that's what k*lled him.

And that's why Blue Monday d*ed?

Look, there were two riders
on the track, one of them fell.

How would I know what
happened? It was out on the far turn!

I think you've forgotten
your manners, Bradley.

Now, it's a simple question.

Did he have any
enemies on the track?

Perhaps you should
talk to Shane Heywood.

Mr Heywood, how are you?

When you punched Alex Martin

after the race yesterday
you ruptured his liver.

Were you trying
to k*ll him? Hmm?

Is that what you
were trying to do?

Couldn't bloody wait, could you?

It's alright, it's alright.

He's alive.

Apparently, he was pursuing Alex
Martin around the track prior to the race.

You want me to take a
statement from Mrs McCrae?

Nah, I'll go and do that, Bill.

Why don't you go and talk
to that young stable hand?

So, how'd they get on,
Martin and Heywood?

Uh.

Fierce rivals.

But friendly, off the track.

That's not what we heard.

Well, who have
you been talking to?

Was it Robyn?

You know she's not
the most sociable girl.

She cares more for horses
than she does for people.

Really?

Alex is too hard with the whip

and Shane is too
heavy with his boots.

Then why does Mr
Tennant keep employing her?

Her dad was a gifted jockey.

He d*ed in a fall on the
same stretch that took Alex.

You didn't know that?

So you saw nothing
suspicious after the accident?

Do you see this graze?

Not really, Miss Dawson.

Did you see any
vehicles beside the track?

You can feel it, the
fetlock's inflamed.

Would you mind just
answering the question?

Don't do that!

This horse was injured
while you were chasing Shane

and you're asking
me about a car?

I really wouldn't do that if
I were you, Miss Dawson.

Take this.

No, I didn't see anything.

Smile!

The whole farmhand
thing suits you, Sergeant.

I understand that the inquiry
into Alex Martin's death

is being treated as
suspicious, care to comment?

Not today, Miss Anderson.

How'd you get on
with Miss Dawson?

The girl's mad.

And that journo's
hanging round again.

Oh, well, you gotta give her
full marks for effort, don't you?

Did you search the stables?

Top to bottom,
didn't find a thing.

Alright, well, you head
back to the station.

The doctor and I have
a personal call to make.

Are you coming?

Shorty?

Cunningham.

Lucky Carlyle.

Terry.

Ah, Lucien Blake, Terry Noonan.

Mr Noonan.

Gets an introduction this time.

Indeed.

This is a pleasure.

Well, we're here to talk
about Alexander Martin.

Had a favorite in
yesterday's Cup.

A great little horse.

You won some money, I believe?

Has Bradley Tennant
been on the phone to you?

Well, then, you
know why we're here.

What can you tell us?

Afternoon, Dutchy.

It's alright.

We're all friends
here, aren't we, Frank?

Word is that Alex may
have had some enemies.

Alright.

Shane Heywood.

No really bad blood,
but Heywood likes to win.

Enough to harm him?

Who else?

Bradley Tennant?

Bradley likes the
sound of his own voice.

Do you talk, Lucien?

Too much, I'm told.

Certainly getting on my nerves.

Robyn Dawson.

I knew her dad.

She might do something
in the heat of the moment.

This helping?

Where were you this
morning when Alex Martin fell?

At the track.

And, no, I didn't see anything.

Interesting.

Anything else you might
know that could help?

That's as much as I
can tell you, Frank.

Blake, would you mind
stepping outside for the moment?

It's alright.

Not gonna bite me.

Are you, Frank?

Very good.

Pleasure, Mr Noonan.

Yeah, Lucien.

Top sh*t.

Ha!

How are you?

Um, just a beer, if I may?

Thanks ever so much.

Ah, wonderful.

Thank you.

Thanks, I'd k*ll for one.

I saw you at the
track this morning.

Were you there
when Alex Martin fell?

Not sure.

Mr Noonan likes to keep me busy.

I see.

How long have
you worked for him?

A while.

Doing what, exactly?

This and that.

I see you've got some bark
missing, you hurt yourself?

Nothing serious.

Part of the job.

Sounds dangerous.

Yeah, I'm fine.

I don't imagine jockeys
would put up much of a fight,

given the size difference.

Alex owed the boss some money.

I give him a reminder.

When?

After the race.

He was a tough little bastard.

Well, interesting
chap, Terry Noonan.

His sizeable
Dutch friend in there

just happens to have
bruised knuckles.

Hmm.

Yes, he admitted
punching Alex yesterday

to remind him about his debts.

By the way, Terry tell you
anything else once I'd left the room?

No, nothing of any consequence.

How much are you in for, Frank?

Well, I did have
one win yesterday.

How much do you owe him?

A lot.

Frank, the man's an SP
bookie with a thug the size of...

Yes, thank you, Blake,
I'm well aware of that.

Then what are you doing?

A man's gotta
have a vice or two,

especially since the wife d*ed.

That why you wanted
me along this morning?

To keep you honest?

A man like Noonan,

the money you owe him, is
the least of your problems.

Yes, thank you, Blake, for the lecture,
but we do have another stop to make.

Apparently, Alex Martin lived
here the last couple of years.

Right.

So what are we looking at?

Nothing, that's the point.

He's packed everything up.

But he's left this.

Aunty Agnes Clasby.

He knew his days were
numbered and he packed up his life.

Didn't you say the rupture in
his liver wasn't fatal, though?

Still, he knew.

I've looked through
it, it's all personal stuff.

Hmm, Ballarat Cup.

And I found this.

That's your handwriting,
Terry, correct?

It was found amongst the
possessions of Alexander Martin.

It appears he's laid a £20 bet
on the nose of another horse

in a race that he
himself was riding in.

The Ballarat Cup.

So Alex, riding the
favorite, bets against himself.

With you.

It's a pretty healthy pay
day, I would have thought

when you're guaranteed the
favorite's not gonna come in.

I put it to you, Terry, that you offered
Alex inducements to throw that race.

But when he ultimately refused,

you sent a man in your employ,
Diederik Bronkhorst around to as*ault him.

Alright.

Terrence Noonan, I'm
placing you under arrest

on suspicion for engaging
and facilitating in conduct

corrupting a betting outcome.

I'd also like to state for the record
my personal debt with Mr Noonan

which currently stands at £325.

And which will remain
regardless of these charges.

That's right, Terrence, I'll pay
you back in full, as promised.

And if I find out you've
k*lled Alex Martin,

I'll also take you
down for m*rder.

Fair enough?

What?

Can I lend you some money?

Of course, you're
a major flight risk.

I'd need some sort of guarantee
you won't up and leave Ballarat,

but seriously, if it might help.

That won't be necessary.

But thank you.

Of course.

So how long do you
plan on keeping Noonan?

Oh, I'll let him stew for a
couple of hours then I'll let him go.

Boss?

That was the hospital.

That jockey you were chasing?

Shane Heywood.

Yes, how is he?

Yeah, he d*ed 10 minutes
ago, from injuries sustained.

Right.

Head out to the track and question
the two riders involved in his accident.

Yes, sir.

Charlie, I think
I'll come with you.

Ah, no, you won't.

Have you gone home
at all today, Doc?

Charlie, I was wanting
to catch up with you.

And boss had me
on court duty all day,

but I stopped home for
lunch and, well, how is she?

Is Mrs Beasley alright?

Mrs Beasley and I...

Quite frankly, Charlie,

we don't know what
the hell's going on.

Yeah, still you should be there.

Tell her I'll be
home for dinner.

Ah, we were wondering...

Where's Charlie?

Charlie, um.

Charlie's conducting a search.

He'll be here later.

Alice.

You said to come over.

Yes, yes, I did.

Jean's been advising
me about cooking.

She suggested I hire
someone rather than try to learn.

She's a working woman,
she doesn't have time to cook.

Of course.

Who's for another drink?

Couldn't you have
come home earlier?

I am so sorry.

You had no warning?

I was told she was
dead, you know that.

Where did she come
from? How did she get here?

Apparently, she
escaped from China.

She spent a year in a
refugee camp in Hong Kong.

I can't imagine.

Oh, none of us can.

So many years have
passed, Jean, I...

What do we do?

Lucien?

It's obvious, isn't it?

Interestingly, there was a sizeable
haematoma across the chest,

we couldn't understand it.

Previous injuries meant
that the fall was fatal.

He should never have
got back on a horse.

Sorry I'm late.

Dr Harvey.

Ah, Mrs Blake,
I'm Charlie Davis.

Charlie lives with us.

Pleased to meet you, Charlie.

Your plate's on the stove.

Wonderful.

The surprise to us was
there were no lacerations.

The cable was an elegant
conclusion, given the variables.

Quite.

You say this man was m*rder*d?

Yes.

Was he a gambler himself?

That's a very good
question, Mrs Blake.

Probably sounds odd, but we
sometimes discuss the doctor's work.

He says that it helps.

Why did he pack
up his house then?

He was saying goodbye,
he knew what was happening.

Ooh, not that it's
any of my business.

I didn't mean...

Was he simply very clean?

No man's that clean.

Oh, that's a bit harsh.

Apparently this new T-A-B thing
has scared a lot of the bookies.

Hmm?

Where did you hear this?

That registrar.

Horses and golf,
horses and golf.

It was all he talked about.

Totalisator Board.

Um, T-A-B.

It's a...

It's a government-run
betting agency.

It's very, very new.

Government?

They think it's a useful
way to raise revenue.

I wouldn't trust the
government to do anything.

The doc said that you were
living in China, Mrs Blake.

Yes, I was put to work in
Shenzhen, after the w*r.

Why was that?

They called me
a foreign hostile.

But then the food ran out.

Dreadful famine there, Charlie.

Everything fell apart.

We were starving.

People did things.

Eventually, I had to make a
choice to stay and die or to run.

I made it to Wan Chai
and, after some time,

I managed to get
word to the consulate.

That sounds awful.

There wasn't much
time for gambling.

Excuse me, please.

And, thank you, Mrs Beasley.

That was delicious.

Oh, please, leave it to me.

Thank you, Lucien.

It was an interesting night.

Yes.

This must be very hard for you.

Goodnight, Alice.

Now, Agnes, we found
this in Alex's house.

The police agreed I
should give it to you.

Hmm.

Look at him,
standing in the saddle.

He knew he'd raced well.

I blame myself.

Oh, don't be so silly, Agnes.

Don't patronize me, Lucien.

I used to pay him sixpence to take
my tips down to the local fruiterer.

The man ran bets out of
his shop on the weekend.

That's where he
must have started.

I see, so he gambled a lot.

He lost a marriage
because of it.

And then he lost
his love of racing.

I made this for him.

When he was little.

I rather suspect he found
his love for racing again.

- I warned you, Lucien.
- No, no, no.

Why else would he
leave this for you?

And, do you know, Ada McCrae said
he couldn't stand being out of the saddle?

He came back to racing, even
though he knew it could k*ll him.

Be a dear and carry this
to the car for me, will you?

Just out of interest, Mrs McCrae,
how tall was Blue Monday?

15.2 hands.

Right, about 5,
2 at the withers.

Yes.

I've been brushing
up on my horses.

The, um, the Chief
Superintendent,

he's, um, how shall I say?

Somewhat of a fan of yours.

He's been lovely.

Called me last night to
make sure I was alright.

Really?

Well, yeah.

So do you think Terry
and Shane are involved?

Did the Superintendent
say something?

No, but Terry's been questioned

and Shane tried to run away.

Yes.

You're very good
with the horses.

As long as they
know you're in charge.

You can't let them
have their own way.

And what would happen then?

They'd destroy themselves,
and take you down with them.

Oh.

Excuse me, doctor, but
this girl is driving me mad.

Why is no-one ever
happy to see me?

My first front page for
the Courier, a horse race!

That's a very good photograph.

Tell that to my boss.

Perhaps he'll let me do more than
write court reports and horoscopes.

So in the meantime you'll
just loiter around racetracks?

Amongst other places.

Did you happen to, um,
take any other photographs,

after the race, perhaps?

I'm not falling for it.

That very charming
thing that you do.

Ask lots of questions,
listen carefully,

nod understandingly.

People talk to you but
you tell them nothing.

Doesn't work with me.

Why are you here?

A man fell from
a horse and d*ed.

Which last happened
here five years ago

when Kev Dawson d*ed, that
doesn't explain why you're here.

Alex Martin was m*rder*d

the morning after
the Ballarat Cup.

You?

Every other
racetrack in Victoria

is busily kicking up a stink
about the T-A-B coming in.

But not here.

Someone has a very tight grip
on things and no one's talking.

Who?

Oh, Alex owed money to an SP bookie
chap by the name of Terrence Noonan.

Mr Noonan's hired
thug had a go at Alex.

Big bloke, Dutch.

I saw him hassling
Martin after the race.

And then the rider
that came in second...

Shane Heywood,
tried to evade police,

ran out onto the
track, was trampled,

and, sadly, d*ed in
hospital from his injuries.

I don't have anything
on Mr Tennant...

The track manager.

Served out a year's suspension

handed out by the
Victorian Racing Club

for being involved in a
substitution scam in Camperdown.

Bloody hell.

It seems every one of
them could be involved

in one way or another,
wouldn't you think?

We should exchange
information again some time.

Alex was in debt to Mr Noonan.

So he bets against himself.

Noonan agrees
to cancel the debt.

Mmm.

That's not Terry Noonan's style.

Perhaps he thought
he had no option.

What do you reckon, Hopalong?

Go on, show him.

Goodness me.

I tell you what, Bill, I think Miss
Anderson has captured you perfectly.

Yeah, well, that's
one opinion, Frank.

Now, look, there's also
the question of how much

Ada McCrae and Mr Tennant
knew about the whole thing.

Hi, Ballarat Police.

I understand you've
been speaking with her.

I thought she could
be of assistance.

Frank?

Sorry for calling,
Superintendent,

but I didn't know
what else to do.

Don't kid yourself, Ada, that girl's
been trouble for a long time now.

Over there.

Excuse me.

Hobart already
searched this entire place.

Where's Miss Dawson now?

Oh, well, she saw me
in here and she ran off.

And what about the cable?

That can wait.

Numerous vantage points.

Yes, lots of cover,
just not for us.

I'm gonna check the back gate.

Alright.

Do you think she's
coming for us?

Well, we gotta get out of here!

No, no, no, no!

We're safe in here, she
won't fire into the stable

when there's a
risk to the animals.

Come on, come on, come on!

Come on.

Jesus!

Mr Tennant, let me see that.

Right, I want you to
place your hand here,

press firmly against the wound.

Mrs McCrae, how much
amm*nit*on was kept with that r*fle?

Quite a few rounds.

She's obviously
comfortable with firearms.

Now, stay here.

Robyn, it's me.

Robyn, I'm coming out.

Alright?

Just me, I'm unarmed.

You can come out too.

I promise it'll be alright.

Come on.

That's it.

Robyn, would you lower
the r*fle for me, please?

Thank you.

Now, did you tell anyone

that someone strung a
cable across the track?

Yeah, I told Miss McCrae.

Right.

So Alex Martin comes back
to ride in the Ballarat Cup.

He's the sentimental favorite.

But he's supposed
to throw the race.

Mr Noonan, Alex put 20
quid on Shane Heywood.

I'm guessing Mrs McCrae
placed a sizable bet too.

£150 at long odds.

She would have made a k*lling.

Right.

You didn't count on how
much Alex loved to race.

Especially when he
thought he'd never ride again.

What was it you said?

Let them have their own way

and they'll destroy themselves,
and take you down too.

You couldn't let anyone
see that you'd lost control.

You had to send a message.

You have no idea what
you're talking about, doctor.

You don't know
anything about this world.

No, I don't.

But you do.

You knew exactly how
high to string that wire

so it caught the
jockey, not the horse.

You knew once
Alex was in the clear

he'd stand up in that saddle.

You never thought for a moment

the horse would
fall with its rider.

And now they're both dead.

And that...

That's why you were
crying when we met you.

You were crying for the horse
you k*lled, not for Alex Martin.

Shane Heywood.

Oh, he did exactly what
you wanted him to do.

He chased Alex, helped
you take the cable down

before anyone else got there.

It was my horse.

My track.

My game.

You k*lled that horse.

- You alright?
- Yeah,

but don't think this gets
you out of that debt of yours.

Ada McCrae, I'm
placing you under arrest

for the m*rder of Alex Martin.

Miss Dawson, you'll be facing
charges of reckless endangerment.

Miss Anderson!

This should get
you a front page.

It's alright,
Robyn. It's alright.

You never used to drink alone.

No.

No, I didn't.

Where are you going?

You've always been kind to me.

But this has been
such an intrusion.

- Mei Lin.
- Please let me finish.

I didn't expect this.

But I understand, it
has been 17 years.

I found a hotel in town. The
Soldier's Hill, do you know it?

Yes.

They have a room for me.

Thank Jean for her
hospitality, please.

Mei Lin.

You are my wife.

Yes, I am.

Would you drive me, please?

My suitcase is heavy.

Of course.