05x04 - All She Leaves Behind

[bunniefuu]

Stop fussing.

Here she is.

"I was 12 when I realized
I had been placed in hell

for some yet to
be committed sins,

that beneath the green
and brown land of this town

lay the fetid soil
beneath, the stunted trees,

reflecting the God-forsaken souls
of the creatures who live here...

The women, bitter with baking
and religion and motherhood;

the men, bleating about
God and commerce

and dreaming about their
hands in their mistress's stockings.

With the realization
came freedom.

I rode to the far edge of town,
squatted beside a mullock heap,

and defecated a curse on this
place with all the sincerity of youth.

I curse this town...

Shh. Shush, please.

With words and grunts."

I know what you are, Patricia
Neville, you blood-sucking leech.

You'll get what you
deserve, you bitch.

Oh, go home, you
ridiculous little man.

I'll bloody make sure.

Please, just ignore him.

You'll get yours, Neville.

"I realized..."

Someone get him out of here.

"even then..."

And just, please,
everybody just calm down.

You'll get yours, Neville!

- I'll call the police.
- "even then..."

You think this is fun,
cleaning up your mess?

Mm, you don't have
anything else to do.

Besides, you'll miss it
when I'm gone, dear sister.

You're too selfish to die.

You'll hang around
my neck forever.

Ms. Neville.

Careful, careful.

Sir, put the g*n down!

It's all right.

It's our neighbor, Max.

Uck, our valiant protector.

Some young louts were
throwing rocks at the house.

I was just making sure
no damage was done.

Well, you can't go around,
pointing g*ns at people.

Of course, apologies.

Eve, is everything all
right? What happened?

Patricia got exactly the reaction
she was hoping for, didn't you?

Good morning.

Eve?

Eve?

Eve?

Say when.

Every time you talk
back, I add five seconds.

Oh, I could arrest you
any time, you know.

Yeah, keep talking, Matthew.

It's doing you good.

Relax.

Well done.

One more time, eh?

- And put some effort into it.
- I bloody well am.

Ah, there you are.

That's another five seconds.

Matthew, are you all right?

No.

Lucien, stop tormenting him.

And... relax.

I suppose you're going to
make him get that as well?

Oh, there's an idea.

Boss.

They were both on the couch.

Patricia was being
held by her sister, Eve.

Yeah, just one moment, Father.

Yeah.

What do we have?

Gas leak, the priest found them.

One still breathing,
an Eve Neville,

she's been taken to hospital.

The other sister, Patricia
Neville, not so lucky.

I was just with them yesterday.

Are the mains off?

Of course.

What happens when
someone dies like this?

Well, the gas displaces
the oxygen in the room

and, of course, in
the victim's lungs.

And basically...
Basically, they suffocate.

How long does that take?

It's not immediate, Charlie.

It... it takes some time.

Do you think we could, um...

Yeah.

Ned.

- Sergeant.
- Oh,

can we, um, get
some windows open?

Nailed shut.

We've opened the back door.

Charlie.

This was deliberate.

Sorry, sir. You
can't come in here.

This is a police investigation.

I know Patricia Neville.

Tell me what is going on here.

Mr. Reed.

What's happened?

There appears to
have been a gas leak.

Eve's been taken to the hospital,
but, well, I'm afraid Patricia has d*ed.

I'm sorry.

Uh, I'm afraid I'm
not quite ready.

I... I've had a busy morning.

That's perfectly all right.

Can I help you?

You can prepare the instruments.

Right.

su1c1de pact or m*rder?

That's the burning
question, isn't it?

You say the other
sister survived?

Yes, she's unconscious,
but thankfully alive.

I have a sister.

Really? Where is she?

I don't know.

She annoyed a lot
of people yesterday.

The sister tried to
settle things down.

Right, did that work?

Not especially.

I'm surprised, Alice.

I wouldn't have thought her
writing was your cup of tea.

Her books make me laugh.

Really?

The truth is I read an excerpt
in The Courier yesterday.

Coming back home
after years away,

telling everyone what
they're doing wrong,

guaranteed to make
people resent you, trust me.

I have experience.

Yes, Lucien, you do.

Oh.

What is it?

Oh, dear, oh, dear,
radical mastectomy.

Both breasts,
performed recently, too.

And a significant
amount of axillary tissue...

Pectralis muscle, lymph nodes.

Goodness me, it's brutal.

But standard, for breast cancer.

You know, it's curious, Alice.

There are no typical
indicators of asphyxiation here.

There's large
patches of alopecia.

The cancer treatment.

I'd say so.

Sputum?

No, nothing, but
here, look at this...

Faint transverse lines
across the nail beds.

Mee's lines?

She d*ed before the
gas was turned on.

Alice is working on
identifying the poison.

Uh, Chief Superintendent.

I have an afternoon mass,
and I should sit with Eve.

Uh, be with you soon, Father.

Thank you.

Now she was treated
for cancer, breast cancer.

Unfortunately, it had
spread throughout her body.

It was terminal.

Why would someone want to poison
a woman who was already dying?

Any possibility she
poisoned herself?

No. No, no, no, this was not...

This was not a one-off dose.

She was poisoned over a
considerable period of time.

If she wanted to
alleviate her own suffering,

that was not the way to do it.

Right, and what
about the sister?

Can we get a statement from her?

I'm afraid she's
still unconscious.

Charlie, I'd like you to have
a run with the Neville case.

Yes, boss.

Thank you.

Every time you look at me with
that expression on your face,

I get five seconds
off my exercises.

Doc, if she was poisoned,

then this isn't likely
to be a su1c1de pact.

Certainly makes it
less likely, doesn't it?

Mm.

Having said that, we don't yet
know what happened to Eve.

Now she could have
found her sister dead

and decided to go with her.

I don't know.

Or perhaps she poisoned her,
felt remorse when she finally d*ed,

and followed suit.

They were fighting yesterday.

Physically?

No, insults, put downs,

Eve told her sister that
she was too selfish to die

and would hang
around her neck forever.

Goodness me.

Maybe Eve was tired
of caring for Patricia.

She was obviously very sick.

And not just from the cancer.

Mm.

We need to check everything
in that house, Charlie,

see if we can find out how
the poison was administered.

Ah.

- Rose, do you mind? We're...
- Is it true?

I'll go talk to Father Emery.

Hello, Rose.

m*rder or su1c1de?

I heard the gas
had been turned off?

We can't comment yet.

Maybe leave this
one for a while, Rose.

It's... it's delicate.

Patricia Neville
is famous, Charlie.

Everyone is going to want
to know what happened,

the... the city newspapers,
even international.

Yeah, I get it.

I get it.

Are you looking at the man
who interrupted the book signing?

Uh, yes, of course, we are.

But right now, we're following
up a little closer to home.

The sister?

Well, if the sister
turned the gas on,

is she going to be charged
with attempted su1c1de?

That's what the law says.

Did they take their
own lives, Doctor?

I'm afraid I can't
answer that just yet.

Tell me about Patricia.

Patricia was challenging.

What about Eve?

Eve has been dealt a
very harsh hand in life.

Yes, of course,
her sister's cancer.

And their mother d*ed
of the same disease.

Eve nursed her
through the illness

while Patricia was overseas.

Then when Patricia
returned, Eve nursed her, too.

Goodness me, she sounds
like a most extraordinary woman.

Yes, I would have
described her as devout.

You would have?

Doc.

Ms. Neville,

I'm afraid it's my sad duty to inform
you that your sister has passed away.

I know.

The cause of death was poison.

No, she had cancer.

I'm afraid that's
not what k*lled her.

Ms. Neville, I'm
Dr. Lucien Blake.

I am truly sorry for your loss.

Are you able to tell
us what happened?

The gas pipes in your home,
they've been tampered with.

Do you know anything about that?

How would you describe your
relationship with your sister?

- If we...
- It's over.

Leave me alone.

Amen.

Amen.

Charlie, all of that will
need to be tested as well.

Looks like it hasn't
been touched in decades.

Look, Bill.

Patricia was drinking
the other night, a lot.

And her editor turned up here

with what was obviously a bottle,
so we need to be thorough with this.

Yeah, well, I've checked
the house from top to bottom.

Do you realize I've been
called out to this place before,

domestics between the sisters and
harassment from an ex-employee?

Do we have a name?

Yeah, Karl Gorman,
he'd make some noise,

and then he'd bugger
off before we got here.

He's the one from
the book signing.

I haven't been able
to track him down.

Well, I can find his details
when we're finished here.

He'll come round.

Fox bait, you reckon this
is what we're looking for?

Ah, sodium fluoroacetate,
could be, Bill.

Could be.

Don't have toxicology yet.

- Doc?
- Mm?

Look at this, jimmy marks.

Looks like someone
tried to break in.

They've had a real
go, by the looks.

Mm, but they didn't
manage to get inside.

See the lock?

They bent it up, but
they didn't break it.

Ah.

Perhaps that's why all the
windows were nailed shut.

Yes.

Doc, what do you think this is?

Any idea when she will
be allowed to see visitors?

I'm afraid not for a
little while, mister, um...

Porter, Max Porter.

Mr. Porter, obviously,
you're a friend of the Neville's.

Known them most of my life.

Ah, then this must have
come as an awful shock.

Yes.

Mr. Porter, you said yesterday
that you had to chase people away.

Did you recognize any of them?

Kids, mostly, I...

I didn't get a good look.

Tell me.

Does the name Karl
Gorman ring any bells?

He is a menace.

I've had to call the
police a number of times.

But not just because of
Mr. Gorman, is that right?

They would fight,
Eve and Patricia.

Sometimes, it got very heated.

And when you say fight...

Did Eve ever get physically
violent towards Patricia?

Sometimes, it was
the other way around.

You've got to understand.

Patricia was
unbelievably difficult,

especially when she was drunk.

And Eve?

Eve never touched the stuff, no.

Look, I'm sure it wasn't bad.

It was just loud.

I was worried for her.

The woman is a saint,

but I suppose even
saints have their limits.

Complex relationships, Charlie.

Yes, it's peculiar.

Found those entries
on Karl Gorman.

Ah, yes?

No charges recorded against him,

but several mentions
over the last six months...

- Bloke with a grudge.
- Mm.

Constable.

Karl Gorman, find him
and bring him in, please.

Thanks, Bill.

What have you got?

Well, we have reports of Eve Neville
being physically violent with her sister.

And vice versa, it must be said.

Has she been
formally interviewed?

No, she's not in
a fit state just yet.

Once she's been given
the all clear, I'll interview her.

Right, I'm heading
back to the library.

Pick up the glass and bottle
Patricia used during the reading.

There's nothing wrong with
sitting over his shoulder, Davis.

Yes, boss.

Good morning.

Oh, Doctor.

Andrea, how is your
mother's arthritis?

Ah, much better, thank you.

Excellent, good to hear.

This is Senior Sergeant Davis.

We met yesterday.

Um, I was wondering,
would you by any chance

have the bottle and the glass Patricia
was drinking from at the reading?

Oh, the glass would
have been washed,

but the bottle is out the
back. I can get that for you.

Wonderful, thank you so much.

And would you mind
terribly if I borrowed this

for the investigation?

You'll have to ask Mr. Reed.

He's come to collect them.

I don't think he'll mind.

I suspect they're not
going to be very popular.

Quite the opposite,

the bookshop has
sold out, apparently.

Is that right?

Yes, everyone loves
you when you're dead.

Oh, sorry. I shouldn't
have said that.

Mr. Reed, may we have a moment?

Your relationship with
Patricia, what was she like?

Patricia, she could
be, challenging.

Challenging how?

She was an artist.

You just had to accept that
everything was about Patricia...

Your time, your energy,
the food on your plate.

As long as you accepted
that, things were mostly fine.

She seemed to get
under people's skin.

Did she get under yours?

Yeah, sometimes yes.

You laughed when you
found out she was dead.

And then I went back
to the hotel, and I wept.

Yes, grief can hit
in unexpected ways.

I was her editor, and
it was grueling work.

But it was also a privilege.

Are you a writer
yourself, Mr. Reed?

I had hopes, yes.

And what happened
to those hopes?

I found a way to live with them.

By editing other
people's work, tell me,

did it bother you when
others got all the attention?

Ah, Andrea, the bottle.

Uh, no, I didn't find it.
I'm not sure where it is.

Right, Mr. Reed, do you have any idea
what might have happened to that bottle?

Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt.

There's a phone
call for you, sir.

Oh, I meant the sergeant.

Just put it down.

It's Karl Gorman.

He's gone mad,
chopping things up.

You ruined my life, you bastard!

Do something.

He's lost the plot.

Mr. Gorman, whatever is bothering
you, this is not the way to fix it.

This has got nothing
to do with you.

For Christ's sake, stop him.

Mr. Gorman, I need you to put the
chainsaw down, and we can talk about this.

What about I put
it through his head,

and then we talk about it?

Now get back.

Talk.

Mr. Gorman, I'm
Dr. Lucien Blake.

Now I know you don't
want things to get any worse.

Why don't you put that down?

We can have a
good, old chat, yes?

Is this a trick?

No.

No, it's whiskey.

I kept you on as a
favor to Mr. Neville,

and this is how you repay me?

All right?

He sacked me last week.

I put years into that
place, and he sacked me.

And I'm guessing

Mr. Neville certainly wouldn't
have treated you that way.

He was a good bloke,

a really good bloke.

But then he sold the business.

No, the sisters did.

Mr. Neville said he'd
make me a partner.

He said I was like
the son he never had.

They just laughed at me.

You have quite a record
of harassing the Nevilles.

Why am I here?

You're here, Karl,

because you threatened
Mr. McKay with bodily harm.

Guilty then.

But why am I really here?

Have you been anywhere
near the Neville house

in the last few weeks?

Any chance of that drink now?

Blake.

Did you k*ll Patricia Neville?

Doc.

I'm glad she's dead,

but I didn't k*ll her.

What the hell were you doing?

What?

In there.

He asked for a
drink. I gave him one.

You gave him alcohol
during an official interview.

If he's been drinking, you
can hold him a little bit longer.

Never do that again while
I'm in charge of an interview.

Charlie.

No, never, am I being
clear enough for you?

Sometimes, it's
worth thinking...

Uh, Sarge.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

Thallium?

Yes.

From the fox bait?

No, it's an ingredient
of rat poison.

Which I suppose
everyone has access to.

Do we know how it
was administered?

Not yet, there's a
lot still to be tested.

That explains the hair loss, not
the cancer treatment, after all.

Is that a symptom?

Yes, hair loss would have
started soon after the first exposure.

She would have had
worsening peripheral neuropathy.

Indeed.

Um, nerve irritations
in the hands and feet,

I've heard it described as feeling as if
your extremities are on fire, but worse.

Mood swings, susceptibility
to loud or sudden noises,

increasing shortness of breath.

Then cardiorespiratory
arrest and death.

Oh, no wonder she was angry.

Uh, Doc, I followed
up with the manager.

Gorman's the office dogs body.

He does a bit of everything.

And?

They had a rat problem lately.

Gorman was in
charge of the poisons.

Really?

Good thing I gave
him that whiskey.

Don't you think?

Put some more leaves
in the pot, Charlie?

So you're letting the
doctor drive things?

Well, don't you?

Well, it depends if he's
taking me where I need to go.

Look. He doesn't
mean to undermine you,

even though it seems that way.

Yeah.

He likes to think he's the
smartest man in the room,

and God knows he
is most of the time.

But you don't have to keep up.

You just have to manage him.

White and two, thanks.

No police escort?

No.

No, I'm here in a
medical capacity.

How are you feeling?

I wish I was dead. You?

Patricia was already
gone when you, um,

tampered with the gas pipes.

You thought it was the cancer.

Of course, I did.

What else would I assume?

Doctors don't really tell
you the grubby details.

Better we don't know
the fate that awaits us.

You've had experience.

In that and everything else, it,

wasn't so different to what
my mother went through,

and what I will go
through, presumably.

It's our gift from
God, it seems.

I am sorry.

Eve, tell me.

Who would have
wanted to k*ll your sister?

Who wouldn't?

She was a monster.

She refused to come back
while Mother was dying.

Dad fell to pieces.

Patricia left it all
to me to deal with.

She only came back
when she was sick.

I see.

And what can you tell
me about Angus Reed?

Pathetic, Patricia made
him, and he knew it.

She was threatening to sack him.

- Right, Eve, I don't want...
- Don't.

My family's gone.

All I have ahead of
me is declining health

and a miserable death, so don't.

Do you believe in hell, Doctor?

No.

I do.

Father.

Doctor.

Walk with me?

Yes.

You've seen Eve Neville.

I have, yes.

She's not a well woman.

The gas leak.

I think we both know what
really happened, Father.

She's worried
about going to hell.

We all are, Doctor.

You're not surprised.

So they'll be charging her
with attempted su1c1de then.

Oh, I think that would
be cruel, don't you?

And what about
the church, Father?

Will you be turning
the other cheek?

The church doesn't
work that way.

You don't think she's
suffered enough already?

What I think doesn't matter.

su1c1de is a mortal sin.

But attempted su1c1de, surely
she can ask for forgiveness,

repent her sins.

Which she won't do,
and without repentance,

there's nothing
to be done for her.

Perhaps forgiveness
could provide some comfort

to a frightened woman.

Not at the expense of her soul.

No, of course, we
wouldn't want to risk that.

Do you know,
recently I was reading

Pope Pius's address
to the Anesthetists.

If a doctor's intent is
to ease suffering only,

and the patient sadly passes
as a result, then there is no sin.

Did Eve try to make
her sister comfortable?

Is that what you're saying?

No. No, I'm not.

Then I'm not sure I understand.

No, I'm not sure that you do.

Perhaps we should be arguing
the definition of comfortable.

Is there something else that
you wanted to talk about, Lucien?

With respect, Father, I doubt
there would be any point.

Good day to you.

Good day.

Technically, we can
hold you for 24 hours

over the att*ck on McKay.

But if I wanted to, I could
increase the charges

to include attempted m*rder.

That would buy us more time.

You had access to poison.

You have a grudge
against the family.

And quite frankly,
you're a mess, Karl.

Who wouldn't suspect you
of k*lling Patricia Neville?

Which is why I'm not convinced.

You lot seem to have a lot
of scotch just lying around.

It belongs to a friend.

Take it.

You'll be doing me a favor.

The study window
of the Neville house

shows signs of an
attempted break in.

Was that you?

If I wanted to break in, I'd
have smashed the window.

You seem to have a lot of
bark and not a lot of bite, Karl.

You reckon the sisters
did you wrong, hmm?

They had everything...

Rich parents, big house,
didn't have to work.

They even had a bloke with
a g*n to scare people away.

All right, so what did
you want from them, then?

I... I just wanted them
to say they were sorry.

Jean?

I'm in here.

Ah, there you are.

Um, I hope you don't mind.

I've invited a few people
over this evening to...

Is everything all right?

That arrived in the post
for you this morning.

Ah,

you could have
opened it, you know.

Oh.

It would have been
perfectly all right.

Mei Lin sends her regards.

And?

And she won't
petition for a divorce.

No, but she agreed.

To obtain a divorce, she would
have to accuse me of infidelity.

And...

she'd have to give them names.

That I didn't know.

She's trying to protect you.

Well, what are we gonna do?

What?

She says that as a man,
you have more options.

Well, yes.

Yes, I do, three in fact, none
of them particularly palatable.

One, I confess to
abandoning her,

which is demonstrably untrue.

Two, I state for the record
that I am, in fact, a drunk

and that I inflicted
emotional cruelty.

Or, three, admit to
being an adulterer.

Now I wouldn't
have to name names.

But goodness me, Jean,
everyone here will say it's you.

You'd be tarred
with the same brush.

And the bloody details
would be read out in court.

Well, we... could we...

It's all right.

We'll work it out.

We always do.

I couldn't take communion today.

Father Emery refused you?

No, it was me, although
the congregation

made it perfectly clear
what they thought I should do.

Right.

I spoke with him.

Lucien, he's my priest.

You're not supposed to
discuss any of this with him.

Not about us,

Eve Neville, do you know her?

Yes, I know of her,
through the church.

She has breast cancer.

Poor woman,
she's all on her own.

Jean, she won't take confession,

so the church won't help her.

Father Emery said as much.

It does seem that

some people are dealt more
than their fair share sometimes.

I suppose that puts
things into perspective.

"I rode to the far edge of town,

squatted beside a mullock heap,
and defecated a curse on this place

with all the
sincerity of youth."

I wouldn't have thought
you could print that.

Listen. It gets better.

"I curse this town with
words and grunts, straining.

And I understood
even then that to curse it

would be to curse myself,
because it would always

be inside me, no matter
how I forced it out."

Charming, no one made
her come back here.

Jean.

But that's her point, isn't it?

The town is inside her,
no matter where she goes.

You don't think there's
a place for criticism?

Yes, I do, and I believe
that's what I'm doing.

May I?

Please.

See if you recognize
these people.

"His belly goes before him,

swollen with status and Bordeaux,
his son as vein as the father,

with the dead eyes of a shark."

Ah, Patrick Tyneman.

And Edward.

Now I'm beginning
to like this book.

Yes.

Why bother writing
anything at all

if you're just going to insult
everyone and everything?

Well, they say
write what you know.

Well, then, perhaps
she should have

stuck to writing about
London and New York then.

She's just viewing Ballarat
through a different lens.

That's all.

Yes, I would expect
you to say that.

I seem to recall you
wearing the same glasses.

Oh, dear.

Can we put you on
the police payroll?

We need someone to put
him back in his box sometimes.

Thank you very much.

Has anyone else
read it, all of it?

No, well, then, we've got some
homework to do, haven't we?

Very clandestine,
people will talk.

- I wasn't meaning...
- I'm only teasing.

What are you looking for?

Just something I saw earlier.

"He was a charming man, in
love with his own intelligence

and unwilling to settle on any
thought for longer than a moment."

Sounds like the doc.

Yes, it does.

Did Lucien say he'd met her?

Uh, I don't think so.

The mousy girl
from the bookstore,

she calls her Olivia.

She's particularly
cruel about her.

What does she say?

Black-rimmed glasses,
frizzy hair, here,

"imagining literary
greatness lay before her,

it had been years since any
man had put his hands on those

poor, neglected
breasts of hers."

Is there anything
else about this Olivia?

Ah, are you still
cranky about that book?

I was only half
joking, you know.

You should go to bed.

Soon.

What's that?

Uh, that, well, um,
that is my affidavit.

I was hoping Mei Lin might
come up with a solution.

It seems I'm going to
have to find one myself.

Oh, no, listen.

I can't ask you to do that.

Well, you didn't ask me to.

Calling yourself a drunk,
this is your reputation.

And what about yours?

I won't have people drag your
good name through the mud.

I simply won't have it.

They already do.

This is your livelihood.

Promise me we'll
talk about this.

There has to be another way.

Perspective, hmm?

Whatever they say about
me, it's not the end of the world.

Let's look at this together
in the light of day, please.

All right.

I'm going to bed.

Don't stay up too long.

Eve?

Yes.

I'm Jean Beazley,
from the church.

I know who you are.

I just wanted...

I thought you
might like a visitor.

Thank you.

She was an awful person in
many ways, but I loved her...

Her mind, her tenacity.

I'm afraid I judged
her on her work.

She loved it here, really.

Read to the end.

You'll understand.

Thank you, for coming.

You should probably
know it's not very likely

that I'll be seeing
you in church.

May I ask why?

Because I'm not welcome,

or worthy.

You know why
I'm here, what I did.

All together, I think the church
and I are no longer suited.

I drink when I shouldn't.

I lie.

I've given into temptation.

So, you see, I'm afraid
I'm just too far gone.

There's no such thing.

There is for the church.

Eve,

the God I believe in,

he would never turn away
someone who needed him.

It's a nice thought.

We're taught that God
looks inside our hearts

and judges us on what he sees.

I think if he looked
inside yours,

he'd understand
the person you are.

Charlie, have we missed
anything that needs testing?

- Doc?
- Hmm?

There's a character in the book,

a woman that works in the bookshop,
black-rimmed glasses, frizzy hair.

Now she's identical to the
woman that works in the library.

Andrea Kreuzfeldt?

Mm.

Ah.

It's pretty harsh,
what Patricia wrote.

It seems she was
hard on everyone.

Yeah.

You never met
Patricia Neville, did you?

No.

No, though I must say, it sounds
like she was quite something.

Mm.

Doc.

Right, this is from the
bottle Charlie found today.

Yes, very high
concentrations of thallium.

Ah, so this is how
Patricia was poisoned.

Yes.

I don't believe that
Eve k*lled her sister.

No, no, this is
particularly brutal.

And, frankly, she didn't want her
sister to suffer, not with all of this.

No wonder Eve's a teetotaler.

Well, she isn't.

How do you know?

She told me herself.

I never drank before, but,

there's been so much unhappiness
since Patricia came back.

I thought the way that I
was feeling was the cancer.

Of course.

Well, the good news is there's
a simple antidote, Prussian blue.

The laundry pigment?

Yes.

Every day cures, we'll
get you started on it.

The morning we found you both,

Mr. Reed came by the house
with a... A... a gift-wrapped bottle.

Any idea why?

He knew she liked to drink.

I thought it was his way
of keeping her in line.

Blake, if you think it's
worth following up on Reed,

then I think you should
go and have a chat.

Let me know how you go.

Right.

You don't want to be there?

No, no, I need to follow up
something with Andrea Kreuzfeldt.

We can compare
notes later, if you'd like.

Very good.

I don't remember
inviting you to join me.

You didn't.

I like the way you defended
Ms. Neville as an artist yesterday,

very noble.

I gather you'll do well from
the increase in book sales.

It is Andrea
Kreuzfeldt, isn't it?

Yes.

Are you the same Andrea who's
published stories in The Courier?

I loved Girl in the Window.

Thank you.

Oh, no, no, thank you.

Look. I was wondering if you
might have time for another chat?

Would you like a drink?

Uh, sure, thank you.

You had a very fractious
relationship, yes?

We let off steam
every now and then.

It was almost, um, an expression of
respect that we could fight like that.

I see.

And tell me.

The gift you brought over to Patricia's
yesterday morning, the bottle...

Yes.

What was it?

Uh, it was gin.

Oh, I found the bottle that
the doctor was looking for,

if you still want it.

It's, uh, back in the kitchen.

I couldn't carry it, hands full.

I can't believe
you read my story.

I did.

And I think it must have been
awful to read Patricia's book,

to see what she wrote about
you, the silly girl in the bookshop

with, uh, black-rimmed
glasses and frizzy hair,

who believed her literary
talents would save her.

I didn't know her.

What, at all?

No contact, ever?

She was always difficult.
But lately she was worse...

Jumping at shadows, screaming
if anything was too loud,

cars, radio, the
dog across the road.

She couldn't even write anymore.

I had to sit there, listening
to her brag, drinking her gin,

when she was just
a bully, and a thief.

- A thief?
- A thief.

Half of her story she stole
from that woman in the library.

Did you realize that?

I wrote to her.

World famous novelist comes
to live back in her home town.

I... I... I thought
she could help.

Oh, no, not Patricia.

What did you want from her?

Her advice, her
approval, I sent her stories.

Stories about people you
knew in the town, hmm,

people like your
mother's doctor?

But then you read those stories
in Patricia's book, didn't you?

Who did she think she was, that
she could just take them from me?

She had her career, and
she wanted to steal mine.

All she ever did was take,
take, take, from everyone.

Oh, God.

Mr. Reed, is there
something wrong?

I'm fine.

Really?

Yes.

Would you mind removing
your hat for me, please?

I'd rather not.

Mr. Reed, please, you
may have been poisoned.

Now I'm asking, remove your hat.

Mr. Reed, you have
thallium poisoning.

I want you to go to the hospital
and tell them that, exactly that.

They'll give you something
to counteract the effects.

Where are you going?

You can't leave me here.

I'm afraid I have to run.

You will be perfectly
fine, I assure you.

Charlie.

Charlie?

Dr. Blake?

Andrea.

Um, is everything all right?

Yes.

Andrea and I were
just talking about

how she tried to break
into the Nevilles' house.

Weren't we?

I wanted to get my stories back,

but I couldn't get
the window open.

And the... the dog across
the road kept barking.

The dog.

- I'll drive.
- Very good.

My dog?

Yes.

She d*ed, a month ago.

How did she die?

Picked up a bait,
horrible way to go.

Mm, especially when
your neighbor poisoned her.

Eve would never do that.

No, no, but Patricia would.

How close were you and Eve?

She was lonely, wasn't she?

Well, lucky she had you around.

You kept an eye out for her...

Scaring away unwanted
visitors, keeping her company.

I did what any
decent man would do.

She talked about
sin, Mr. Porter.

When did your relationship
become physical?

Eve was a decent woman.

Patricia Neville was
becoming increasingly difficult.

Challenging is how
everyone described her.

You saw the toll it
was taking on Eve,

Eve, the woman
you'd fallen in love with.

The fights, the
exhaustion, goodness me.

Eve was at her wits' end,
and quite frankly, so were you.

When Patricia poisoned your dog,

well, that was the last straw.

You took to sharing
a drink with her.

You'd bring a bottle over,

having mixed in
a little thallium.

And, of course, you'd protect
yourself, dosing up on Prussian Blue.

And then you'd sit there,

watching her slowly
poisoning herself.

Did you realize Eve tested
positive to the poison as well?

No.

Even doesn't touch alcohol.

Well, not when
anyone was around.

Perhaps... perhaps committing
sin with you drove her to drink.

I'd never hurt Eve, never.

But you did.

You did.

You poisoned her.

And you took away the person
she loved most, her sister.

She was dying, anyway.

I wouldn't have done it,
but she was dying, anyway,

and causing so much
misery while she did it.

As did you, Mr. Porter.

As did you.

I knew he loved me.

He always felt more for me
than I felt for him, but he was...

Max was someone for
me to tell my troubles to.

You know, I don't
think he's a bad man.

Circumstances made
us all less than we can be.

Tell me.

Have any of the doctors
you've consulted with

told you what to
expect with your cancer?

I know what's coming.

Well, I promise you won't
have to go through it alone.

I will do everything I can to
make things comfortable for you.

I recommend we don't charge
Eve Neville with attempted su1c1de.

Even though she
committed the act?

Well, the charge
serves no purpose.

What if I disagree?

Well, that's your
prerogative, boss.

Fair enough.

Carry on.

You can't get out of that
bloody chair, can you?

What say we wait till everyone's
gone, and I'll help you up?

Eve Neville sends her thanks

and wants to know if
you've read to the end yet.

Yes, I have.

The girl in the
bookshop, it was Patricia.

It was rather lovely at the end.

Eve Neville, I think
she needs some help.

I'm gonna visit her once
she's out of hospital.

I think that would be
greatly appreciated.

I plan on doing my bit, too.

Lucien, I said we should
wait till the light of day,

but it's no better.

This could ruin you.

And I can't see
another way around it.

We'll find a way.

We have to keep looking.

Promise me you
won't do anything rash.

Yes, I promise.