02x03 - Dead Man's Chest

[bunniefuu]

(Clattering)

(Woman gasps)

(Splash!)

♪ Theme music ♪
♪ LIVELY JAZZ MUSIC ♪

(Locomotive engine hoots)

(Aunt Prudence speaks indistinctly)

Phryne: Whoo-hoo!

♪ JAZZ MUSIC ♪

(Seagulls squawk)

Man: Beware the demon drink.

And the evils of alcohol.

Go away!

Beware the demon drink.

Man: Hey, Frank!

(Tyres screech)

(Women gasp)

(Exhales) That was close, Miss.

I missed him by a mile.

What a ruffian!

Man: Damn you, Frank!

Queenscliff used to be such a select summering spot, until all the daytrippers and the riffraff moved in.

Didn't you say Dot was off for a week in Queenscliff?

Uh, with Miss Fisher, sir, yes.

I wish criminals would take a holiday, sir.

That way we could get a bit of peace and quiet too.

You should know by now, Collins, no-one has a quiet time around Miss Fisher.

What's this?

A small fortune, Collins.

They've found Bonito's lost treasure, again.

Hmm. You collect coins, don't you, sir?

You ever seen anything like this one?

Hard to tell from the photograph, Collins.

But if I'd collected a genuine Spanish doubloon, I wouldn't be sitting behind this desk.

(Honking)

Sorry, but Mrs McNaster is not home for company at the moment.

Ah, what nonsense!

We're expected.

And we're not company, we're old friends.

Perhaps you could ask Mrs McNaster when she will be home.

Rightio.

Come back here and fetch the baggage.

What are you doing, greeting visitors anyway?

Where are the Johnsons?

(Door opens)

Oh, Prudence, I'm so sorry!

I tried to telephone you, but you'd already left.

My dear Hilly, I thought we were expected.

What on earth's the matter?

Well, I have no staff, my house is in an uproar.

Mr and Mrs Johnson have taken a sudden and most inconvenient retirement.

Retirement?

And they've left me, yes!

We could telephone Mr Butler and have him come down by train.

And I'm very happy to make myself useful.

The burglary, too.

Kip.

What burglary?

Gerald: Sergeant.

Sergeant, why won't you take my word for it?

You're not outback now, Mr McNaster.

We have rules.

That coin was handed in, so unless you can prove ownership...

How can I prove anything if you won't let me see it?

I'm a very busy man, sir.

So, in the absence of any evidence of a break-in, I'm afraid there's very little else I can do.

Good day to you, sir.

Gerald.

Ah, Mrs Stanley.

Mother, I thought you were going to telephone?

I'm afraid we'd already departed.

Hilly, my dear, you need help, on all fronts.

You do realise that my niece is a private detective of the utmost discretion and capability.

Indeed.

Is she really?

Specialises in murders. But I'm sure she'll make do with a robbery.

Oh, well, I suppose you'd better come in then.

Prudence: I thought you'd never ask.

Hilly, so lovely to see you.

(Laughs) Good.

Here we are.

Perhaps we should leave the champagne in the boot, Dot.

(Bottles clatter)

He rode a bicycle to the top of the Andes, drove a T-model Ford across India.

He's been att*cked in jungles, lost in deserts.

And once, he even had to drink his own...

That's enough, young man.

Mr McNaster's activities are his own business. More tea, thank you.

Gerald: Excuse my manners. It's been a while since my last drink.

I always keep the study locked.

And the key with you?

Yes.

Though there's a spare one hidden in a collar box in my bedroom.

I didn't even realise my doubloon was missing until I read this morning's paper.

Then when I checked, I found my entire coin box was gone.

A doubloon? A souvenir of your London to Peru attempt?

Yes, the only one.

We were flooded in.

I had to abandon the Oldsmobile...

At the foot of the Cordilleras.

Yes, I remember reading about it.

Really?

You have an interest in exploration?

I've dabbled.

So, the local police think your doubloon is part of the lost treasure of Queenscliff.

Yes, it's ridiculous.

At least he has more imagination than I gave him credit for.

You and the local sergeant don't see eye to eye?

Baxter? He bears a grudge.

My mother's Temperance Chapter closed down his uncle's hotel a year ago.

No mean feat to close down a watering hole in a fishing town.

The Baxters were asking for trouble, doing a roaring trade every night after six.

Really, Hilly, I can't believe you let the Johnsons go without notice.

Since when do servants retire?

It's a vocation, not a job.

Where are those jade vases I gave you?

Oh, they're in my bedroom, Prudence.

They suited my new curtains beautifully.

Ahh.

Have you considered the theft might be linked to the Johnsons' sudden departure?

Well, I must admit, some things have been going missing lately.

Just small things.

But the Johnsons have been devoted to us for years, especially Mother.

What kind of things?

Some pieces of silverware, some ornaments. Nothing like this.

Well, you do have some tempting collections.

Do you like rocks, Miss Fisher?

I found this on a beach in the Gulf of Carpentaria.

It took thousands of years to create, and you can hold it in the palm of your hand.

Anything else missing?

Not that I've noticed.

Although I move things around a bit while I'm cataloguing.

Sometimes I could lose track.

Yes, I can see that.

Clive and Moira Johnson, thieves?

One must never entirely trust one's own staff, Hilly, no matter how loyal they may seem.

But why would they suddenly start stealing from us after all this time?

Perhaps they need money for some reason?

Ah, Mother knew them better than I did.

Hilly: Well, Clive and Moira weren't extravagant, and they were utterly respectable.

They were the ones who introduced me to the Temperance Union.

Oh, we have a thriving local chapter here, darling.

You must come to a meeting.

(Chuckles) I must confess, Hilly, even I have my limits when it comes to the tambourine.

Perhaps the Temperance Union landed them in some kind of trouble.

I'm sure not everyone in town would agree with their views.

(Kettle whistles)

Do you think Mr McNaster would mind if I had a look in his library?

Why don't you help me get the tea ready first? We'll need more sugar.

Pantry?

It's up high. I'll get it for you.

Thank you, Kip.

(Whimpering)

What on earth is that?

Jane: Hello, boy.

Kip: Gaston!

What are you after?

It's the Johnsons' dog.

Mrs Jane dotes on this little mongrel.

Shoo! Shoo!

What are you doing here, boy?

They'd never leave Gaston behind.

Whether they had a reason to steal those coins or not, the police should still be informed of their departure.

No, no, I can't believe it.

They took their leave and they went to the ferry.

Now, what robber would use a getaway ferry?

And that Baxter will be no help finding them.

He's delighted to have my most valuable coin in his lost property box.

What about your Inspector friend?

He's supposed to be a servant of the people, especially the right people.

Jack's supposed to be a servant of the law, Aunt Prudence.

Excuse me? I think you should come and see something.

Hey.

The Johnsons wouldn't leave their dog. They're good people.

How long have you known them, Kip?

Four years I've been here.

They gave me work so I could look after my gran and the other kids.

I could ask around and see if anyone knows where he's been.

Good idea. I'll go too?

Excellent.

Come on, boy. Let's go.

Is that wise, Miss?

Are you worried they'll stumble across a robber's lair, or is it the twinkle in Jane's eye that bothers you?

(Sighs) The whole world bothers me, Miss.

You're sending her to the Continent in a week.

It's an adventure, Dot.

A woman's rite of passage, not an ordeal.

Will you at least chaperone her on the beach?

Just as soon as I place this telephone call.

Jack, I'm in desperate need of a numismatist.

And I'm the only one you know?

I need your help with a fellow coin collector who's just been robbed of his doubloon.

Anything like the one that's just washed up from Bonito's treasure?

Sadly it's not pirate bounty.

It was stolen from Aunt Prudence's good friends, the McNasters.

Gerald McNaster? He found a Spanish doubloon in Peru, didn't he?

And his domestic staff have mysteriously disappeared.

But it seems the local police have a grudge against the McNasters, and are refusing to investigate the case at all.

Well, I'm not sure what I can do from here.

Gerald has no proof the coin belongs to him.

We need some sort of archival evidence, an entry in a journal, a note from a museum?

And I have nothing better to do with my time?

Well, you might, but this is definitely more fun.

(Distant conversations)

Jane: What are they digging for?

They think that coin that washed up is part of the lost loot of Lima.

Why would it be in Queenscliff?

A Spanish pirate ship tried to sail from here a hundred years ago.

But the British got them and hung the captain.

But Bonito outsmarted them and hid the treasure first.

Could be anywhere here, buried in the sand, hidden in a cave.

Over there.

I believe there's something curious much closer to home.

How awful.

Do you think the tide washed him up?

I don't think the sea did this, Jane.

The water didn't come up this far today.

Someone's covered him up deliberately.

The police are on their way.

Thank you, Kip.

I've seen him before, Miss.

So have I.

That's Frank the Fish.

The fishmonger.

Do you know him, Mr...?

I'm Finlay Ellis.

We both knew him, Wally and me.

Frank used to crew on my boat.

Had to lay him off a while back.

A falling-out?

Couple of bad seasons, as it happens.

Frank's had it rough himself since then.

It's the demon drink.

That's what's k*lled him.

Baxter: Alright, thanks. Move along.

Nothing to see. Constable, get these people to stand back, thank you.

That's Mr Johnson's.

I'd know it anywhere.

Get that dog out of here.

And you too, madam.

This is a police matter now, so thank you very much.

It's also the scene of a crime and you're trampling all over it.

Sergeant Baxter, I presume.

Not now, thank you, madam, and I'll decide if this is a crime scene, thank you.

These gentlemen knew the deceased.

Is that right?

Then I'm sure that these gentlemen will be only too happy to remain here and assist with any identification after I peruse the body.

Isn't that right, Mr Ellis and Mr Stirling?

Happy to help, Sergeant.

The skinny one was seen chasing him earlier this morning.

And somebody covered up the body.

I will conduct the inquiry, thank you, madam.

Now for the last time, can you please just go home?

McNaster was right.

The man's a fool.

We definitely need someone more competent.

A m*rder? I hope you didn't go to any trouble on my account.

Well, I was tempted to do away with the local sergeant who has now proven himself to be both incompetent as well as unpleasant.

I'm glad you resisted.

Though, strangely enough, I did have my chance at the victim, who threw himself in front of my motor car this morning.

But survived?

Due to my excellent driving skills.

Only to be m*rder*d on the beachfront by the afternoon.

A local fishmonger with an interesting connection to our suspected coin robbers, Mr and Mrs Johnson.

So it's 'our' robbers now?

If you leave immediately, you'd be here in a couple of hours.

Some of us follow the speed limit.

If you insist. Two and a half.

Three.

Oh, good afternoon, Dorothy!

You're just in time, Mr Butler.

There's been a m*rder.

Will that be one less for dinner, then?

One more, actually. Inspector Robinson is joining us too.

Ah, you must be Kip.

Dot's told me all about you.

Can I take your bag, sir?

Oh, I can manage my bag.

But this is for you.

It's not new.

It used to be mine, when I started out in service many years ago.

Thank you, Mr Butler.

Shall we?

Phryne (whispering): Jack!

Shhh, Jack!

(Sighs)

(Pop!)

Jack, this is a temperance household.

The sound of a popping cork could lead to my eviction.

More so than entertaining a man in your private parlour?

A man? I thought you were a police officer.

I'll try my best to be less entertaining.

You should join Hilly's Temperance Union.

Some of us are not here on holiday.

It doesn't have to be all work and no play.

Besides, I'm not on holiday anymore.

I have a robbery, a body and two missing servants on my plate.

I called into the Queenscliff Morgue.

The fishmonger's body's been sent to Melbourne for autopsy, but Baxter's current view is a drunken fall, striking his head on a pier.

That man wouldn't know evidence if he fell over it, which he almost did.

Luckily, I salvaged the treasure.

I saved it for you. You can have it sent up to Melbourne for analysis.

(Clears throat) Pungent.

It could still make the night train if we hurry.

Now, what time should I have Cec and Bert pick it up?

Don't tell me, it just fell into your hands.

After it fell out of the dead man's pocket.

'My darling.'

Glad I'm forgiven.

'On our golden anniversary.'

Has it been that long?

From Mrs Johnson to Mr Johnson.

Presumed to have run off with the stolen household items, including the missing doubloon.

Any forwarding address?

They left with the ferry.

That's the last anyone heard of them.

Where's their quarters?

Already plundered.

The Temperance Union's battle plan.

'Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine'.

I preferred 'my darling'.

Two hotels closed, many more to go.

No wonder Baxter's been dragging his heels.

The Johnsons were bad for business.

This town needs all the business it can get.

Perhaps your view is clouded, Sergeant, because your family were publicans.

I want to know where the Johnsons were going, when they were last seen.

Friends, associates, enemies.

Start searching now, that's an order.

And I want a proper report on that dead body by the morning.

Yes, sir.

Very dashing, Kip.

So you think there's some connection between those terrible murders and the departure of the Johnsons?

What? How could they have anything to do with the poor fishmonger?

Oh, m-mere speculation at this point, Mrs Stanley.

The police are looking into both matters.

Ah, I see.

Strange about the watch, though.

Prudence: What watch?

Mrs McNaster, I was hoping to speak with your son.

Do you know when he's available?

Oh, Gerald arrived home ages ago.

He's in the study. He's still looking for the mould, I imagine.

Mould?

Well, I reminded him he took a cast of the Spanish doubloon.

You know, the coin the police are hanging onto.

So that would be proof of ownership?

Yes, but he seems to have lost track of it.

Jack: I found the photograph in the Geographic Annual.

Unfortunately, I doubt there's enough detail to identify the doubloon.

But your mother said that you made a mould?

Well, yes.

I made plaster casts of some of my collection for the Larco Museum in Lima.

Perhaps we could help you look for them.

Oh, don't worry, I've tried. But I'm afraid I've disposed of them.

I've put out word in Melbourne, in case it turns up on the black market.

But I understand other coins went missing.

Yes, my entire collection, although nothing as rare as that particular doubloon.

Did you notice anything unusual on your return?

There was no supper laid out, and the household staff had gone.

Eventually, Mother explained that the Johnsons had left.

She was terribly upset.

And then?

I made some cocoa.

We played a few hands of cards.

I thought it may distract her, but it didn't seem to help.

Which reminds me, I should see to Mother. Excuse me.

(Door opens and creaks)

Have you considered young Kip in all of this? He had the opportunity.

Jack, that boy can keep secrets for about as long as I can stand still.

Besides, what's his motive?

The same as anyone else digging out there, the hope of an easier life.

Then how do you explain the fisherman with the fob watch?

Perhaps he wasn't acting alone.

You said he knew the fishmonger.

(Knocking, door opens)

This is for you, Inspector.

Thank you.

No head injury.

No sign of any injury, apart from a broken front tooth.

The trickle of blood.

Cause of death?

Still to be determined, and awaiting results on the stomach contents.

I think we need to take another look at our crime scene.

The ferry leaves from here.

The coin was found in the shallows, but if the whole box was dropped, the coins could have fallen through the cracks, and been washed in by the tide.

What does this stain look like to you?

Blood? Fish, perhaps?

There are no scales.

Could have been here a while.

It poured with rain the day before we arrived.

(Sniffs) This has been here two days at the most.

We need to find out who moors here.

Special delivery.

Ah.

Inspector Robinson in Queenscliff.

Good, I've been expecting this.

What's he doing in Queenscliff?

Having a holiday?

(Slurring) While the boss is away, the workers play?

Not you, eh? Not you, Collins.

Our Dottie wouldn't put up with that.

Bert, it's nine in the morning.

Never too early to fall off the back of a truck.

Come on, get out. Now, come on.

A train!

It was a train. Fritz von Opel could use that stuff for rocket fuel.

I should lock him up for drunk and disorderly.

(Thud!)

Bert: Oh!

Could ya? Just for a bit?

There seem to be quite a few items of silver missing.

Oh, dear! Well, we'll make a list.

Mr Butler, I know a good servant doesn't gossip about his employer, but what if it was something fishy?

Something that might have to do with what Jane and me found yesterday?

Jane and I.

It's about Mrs McNaster.

Look, there are times when discretion needs to give way to common sense.

It's about the dead bloke, Miss.

Mrs McNaster used to buy her fish from him, but she used to pay him herself.

And one time I saw her giving him a couple of candle holders, silver ones.

Really?

I told Mrs J about it, and her and Mr J went to talk to her, but Mrs McNaster made a big fuss.

Crying and carrying on.

When was this?

Not long before the Johnsons went away.

I hope I've done the right thing, telling you.

You certainly have, Kip. Thank you.

I can't believe it!

Hilly in financial difficulties?

Surely she'd tell me.

Perhaps it's a matter of pride?

Perhaps the Johnsons didn't retire after all, but she was forced to let them go because she couldn't afford them.

We know she was bartering for groceries.

What?

Paying in kind.

Silverware, missing vases.

But she said they suited her bedroom.

I checked, Aunt P.

They were my wedding present to her.

Exchanged for produce?

I suppose this means you... you think that Hilly k*lled the fishmonger?

No, Aunt P.

Oh, thank goodness!

But I do think it's all somehow linked.

(Footsteps approach)

Ah, Miss Fisher.

Has your handsome friend managed to retrieve my son's coin?

My...? Oh, the Inspector.

Ah, I'm not sure, Mrs McNaster.

Hilly, dear, Gerald's expeditions must have been very costly.

Well, of course, but of course he's so well regarded, he's always picking up grants and patrons and such.

I wondered, with the household so diminished...

Really, Prudence, that is none of your concern.

You would tell me if you were in any sort of straightened circumstances?

I... I don't know where this is leading, Prudence.

I-Isn't your accommodation satisfactory?

Isn't the catering up to scratch?

I know I have had trouble with my staff, but I... I will try harder to meet with your approval.

Oh, you already have!

I... I've no complaints.

Oh! Well good, then.

Ladies, luncheon is served.

(Exhales)

Are you alright, Hilly?

Mm.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Any luck with the Johnsons?

Jack: Not yet.

Seems they bought tickets for the ferry, but never caught it.

And Sergeant Baxter is giving us the run around, as usual.

He says he's shipped that coin off to Warrnambool for authentication at the Maritime Museum.

Would you like something to eat, dear?

No, thank you, Mother.

I've lost my appetite.

Well, would you care to sit down and eat, Inspector?

Thank you.

Thank you, Mr Butler.

Did you find out about the next full tide?

Early morning. Very early.

What took you so long?

(Sighs) I was as quiet as a mouse.

A mouse who wears French perfume.

I'll wear less next time.

Is that the boat?

Yes, they're tying up now.

Let's go find a mouse hole.

Finlay: Come on, Wally, give us a hand, will ya?

Hey, come on! Get it up, get it up!

(Clattering, distant shouting)

Will you shut your gap! You'll have half of Queenscliff down here.

The dead fishmonger crewed for the big fellow.

Wally, get the cart.

And that's the one I saw chasing him the morning we arrived.

Going over.

(Water laps softly)

(Small splash)

I think we've seen all we need to for the moment, don't you?

It's only right that I escort you home.

If you insist.

(Splashing)

The analysis shows it's a lot more potent than standard rum, sir.

So it is bootleg?

Ah, yes, sir.

Grave potential to cause alcoholic poisoning.

Back cell.

Collins?

Yes. No, yes, sir. I'll send it down for you right away, sir.

Better still, Collins, come down and bring those reports with you.

To Queenscliff, sir?

I need someone on the ground I can rely on.

Hey! Hey, no, not so fast.

Jack: Collins? Collins?

Oh, no, we're not wearing that.

It was forced on us.

We were only there to do a job.

What's going on, Collins?

No, it's... no, it's nothing, sir.

It's nothing. I'll be on the next train down. Thank you, sir. Goodbye.

The bloke said it was cheap 'cause it came straight from the brewery.

No middle man.

We didn't know it was bootleg.

What bloke?

Some bloke.

He collected a cart load from the guard's van, yesterday, when we picked up the parcel for Miss Fisher.

But this bottle was the parcel, so this isn't your grog.

This was found on a victim in Queenscliff.

Same bottle. Oh! Same grog.

Flint's Rum.

Victim of what?

We don't know yet.

He only d*ed yesterday.

(Seagulls squawk)

Madam.

'Morning!

Oh. Oh, yes, I'm sure it is.

I... I can't seem to find what I'm looking for.

'Morning, everyone.

That is the dinner setting, Kip.

Ah, we don't have a full service breakfast setting.

You're absolutely hopeless.

Take off that uniform and go back to the scullery.

You're not fit to be in polite society!

He has improved, Hilly.

Calm yourself, please.

And the breakfast setting is incomplete, Mrs McNaster.

Oh, I'm... I'm so sorry.

I'm... I'm not myself this morning.

I will go and fetch Mrs McNaster, bring her down back to breakfast again, and all will be forgotten.

'Morning, Jack.

'Morning.

Dot: I'll help with the tea.

So will I.

That bottle we sent to Melbourne...

Shhh!

So much for the temperance household.

According to Collins, your friends, Bert and Cec, witnessed a crate load of those bottles arriving in Melbourne yesterday, on the Queenscliff train.

So now we need to find a link between those bottles, and that clinking midnight cargo.

Constable Collins is arriving to help us with inquiries this morning.

I said we'd meet him at the pier.

Good.

Who knows what we might reel in?

(Muffled speech)

Phryne: Oh, dear, I hope that's not what I think it is.

Oh, my Lord, it's Moira and Clive Johnson!

If these are our thieves, they paid a terrible price.

The other night. I saw you haggling for them and look at them now.

You've got something to do with it.

I'll take Ellis.

I saw you with my own eyes.

Don't know what you're talking about.

Inspector Jack Robinson.

I'm keen to know about the cargo you unloaded last night, from the Kennocha.

I was heading home after our meeting, when I saw them out here.

It must have been after eight, because the ferry was already heading out.

So Mr Ellis's fishing boat was moored at the pier that night?

Yes, this side, where I could see.

The boats were in, the tide must have been up.

I don't know what you're talking about.

I'm allowed to carry goods and if I want to unload at night, well, that's my business, isn't it?

Alright, stand back.

Is the blood on the pier your business as well, Mr Ellis?

Next to where you moor your boat?

There's blood all over that pier.

It's a working port.

Fish, bait, blood.

And corpses.

What were you arguing about with Mr and Mrs Johnson the evening that they disappeared?

They wanted a ride to Sorrento.

I said no.

There's a ferry, isn't there?

They'd just missed it.

They offered a decent fare, but I declined.

I had other plans, like a drink with the lads.

And I suppose you were drinking together when the fishmonger was k*lled as well.

What are you trying to say?

Those two were still alive when I left the pier. Ask any of my crew.

Ask my deckhand, Wally.

We may just do that, Mr Ellis.

In the meantime, please don't leave Queenscliff.

I've got fish to catch, and a boat to pay for.

'Morning, sir. Miss Fisher.

Very timely, Collins.

It certainly looks like it, sir.

I'll go break the bad news.

I... I should have stayed in my room.

Prudence: There now, Hilly, calm yourself.

Two more dead bodies?

Isn't that a little excessive, Phryne, even for you?

I didn't put in a request, Aunt Prudence.

Were any of Gerald's coins found on the bodies?

Apparently not.

That's a relief.

Butler: A hot, sweet tea will help.

Thank you, Mr Butler.

They... They gave it back to me.

They brought me in and simply handed it over, as they should have done, three days ago.

At least something good has happened.

This doubloon, it's the only coin that means anything to me, Mother.

The rest, they... they don't matter.

Baxter didn't tell you about the murders, then?

Murders?

Prudence: Try to relax.

The Johnsons' bodies have been dredged up.

Good Lord, that's hideous!

How... how did they die?

Laceration to the forearm from a large bladed implement, and a major, rear penetrative wound through the victim's stomach and liver.

That would do it.

And the wife?

Some superficial bruising to the face and lips.

Cause of death, suffocation.

If the Johnsons found out that Finlay Ellis and his crew were smuggling illegal rum...

And confronted him?

Or threatened to expose him, Ellis wouldn't have been happy.

But unhappy enough to motivate a m*rder, or two?

Or three. The fishmonger could have been found out as well.

Local sales could just be the tip of the iceberg.

Ships sail past here every day, bound for America.

We need to prove what Ellis has been up to.

Let's hope Collins has found our middle man.

(Sighs)

And you don't have any other records for parcel delivery?

No. That's the last seven days.

Everything loaded on here heading east or west.

Mm-hm.

Anything else I can help you with?

No, that'll be all for now.

Thank you, Mr Redwin.

Good-o, then. I'm due on the 2:30.

Happy to assist, Constable.

That man was far too helpful.

Some people have no difficulty cooperating with the police.

Dottie! Ah, would you excuse me, please, sir?

Ah, go on.

Look over here, Jack.

Constable Collins is on duty.

Then you can blame Dot.

You mean that guard?

The man I was questioning.

About what?

Some boxes in Melbourne.

I need to tell Miss Fisher something.

Excuse me, Inspector, Miss.

Hugh said he was questioning that guard about some boxes that ended up in Melbourne?

Go on.

Well, when I came to meet Mr Butler, I saw that guard signalling to another man with a trolley loading some boxes.

Description, Dot.

You know him, Miss.

He was chasing that fellow you almost ran over when we arrived in town two days ago.

Wally Stirling.

Finlay Ellis's deckhand.

As I said, far too helpful.

I want a signed statement from that guard, Collins.

Everything he knows about Wally Stirling.

And warn him we have a witness.

Yes, sir.

I think it's time to divide and conquer.

I'll see how Finlay Ellis likes the idea of his deckhand confessing to a sideline in rail deliveries.

And I'll tell Wally Stirling it was Ellis who turned him in.

That's not what Finlay Ellis says.

He told the police you were smuggling cheap rum up to Melbourne on the train.

What? He could be trying to save his own skin.

But he implied Frank the fishmonger knew about it as well.

Look, I already told you, I don't know nothing about no smuggling, alright?

Neither did Frank.

Then I wonder what Frank's connection was to those bodies that were dredged up?

Frank had nothing to do with that.

Then how did he come across Mr Johnson's fob watch?

I heard the police found it in his pocket.

The problem is, Finlay Ellis was seen arguing with those people, and now they're dead.

I don't know anything about that.

The police think they were m*rder*d because they found out about a smuggling racket.

And Finlay Ellis told them it was all your idea.

No. No, that argument had nothing to do with smuggling.

No, from what I heard, they missed the ferry, they asked him for a trip to Sorrento, and he told me he wouldn't take 'em.

Now you tell me, why would he k*lled them over that?

I don't know. Perhaps you should ask Mr Ellis yourself.

(Sighs) This is taking a while.

Do you think we set a big enough cat amongst the pigeons?

Depending on the pigeons.

Finlay: Oi!

Wally! What the hell's been going on?

You stupid bastard! You been helping yourself to the merchandise.

So I passed Frank a few cases, so what?

I didn't know he'll flog them in town.

You've brought the coppers down on us!

Not my fault. I tried to fix things.

By k*lling Frank?

Someone put the wind up him.

He was going to Baxter, reveal the whole operation.

I had to shut him up, alright?

To protect you!

Protect your own backside, you mean.

Oh, come on.

(Grunting)

(Growling)

Hugh: Stop! Police!

Yes?

Hey! Hey! Hey!

I suggest you put that down!

Put down the Kn*fe, Ellis.

Aargh!

Don't try to get up.

I don't want to ruin my heels.

I'm arresting you for the m*rder of Frank McKay, also known as Frank the Fish.

And you're being held under suspicion.

I didn't k*ll Frank.

Let me clarify. Suspicion of murdering Clive and Moira Johnson.

I didn't k*ll anyone!

Move.

There are numerous witnesses to your argument, and it was clearly about more than just a ferry ride.

Half the town hates them.

With their protests and their preaching.

But what they were going on about made no sense.

What were they going on about?

They were blaming me for Mrs McNaster being in a bad way.

Said it was my fault for supplying her with the drink.

But you didn't know it was Frank's sideline, did you?

He let you down, just like Wally Stirling did.

Frank was a fool. But he didn't deserve to die like that.

Like what?

Dead drunk from illicit rum?

Or do you mean choking on a bottle that was shoved so far down his throat it broke his teeth?

Wally did it. He must have k*lled the Johnsons, too.

Go on.

He heard me arguing with them that night, and he knew it'd all come out.

He was the last one to leave the boat.

He must have stayed behind to shut 'em up.

On the pier?

That's where we found them when we came back in the morning.

Frank and me. Both of them.

They were already dead.

And Frank helped you get rid of the bodies?

We carried them up to the end, where we knew the tide would take them out.

(Splash!)

So if Wally Stirling k*lled the Johnsons, where did you get that Kn*fe?

The one we saw you throw into the water.

I found that on the pier.

Same time we found the bodies.

Constable.

Take Mr Ellis down to the cells, thank you.

Considering we have no w*apon and no witnesses, it's his word against Wally Stirling's.

Baxter: Ellis is guilty.

Let's face it.

What kind of fool would clean up after a m*rder they had no part in?

That's the first sensible thing I've heard you say. Pity if you're wrong.

By the way, Inspector, somewhere here I have a telegram that came for you from the Melbourne Museum, I believe.

Well, looks like a response to our coin inquiries.

A doubloon minted in 1798 went missing from their display three years ago.

Well, that doesn't help us at all.

No.

Different doubloon.

McNaster's was minted in 1790.

Hilly! Oh, Hilly!

My God! Help!

Somebody, come quickly!

Help! It's Hilly!

Oh, dear. Hilly! Hilly!

(Hilly moans)

Come on. We'll get you out.

Out of the bath.

(Hilly moans)

Lean on me.

There we go.

(Slurs while speaking)

What the devil?

Get back!

What the devil's going on?

Get back! You can't come in here!

What's going on in there?

Please, get out.

(Moans)

Hilly, it's alright now.

Prudence: Get her into bed.

Get her a nightie.

I think they're in that drawer.

I thought she'd drowned.

She almost did, in rum.

I-It's my fault. It's all my fault.

What on earth's going on here?

Get Mr Butler to bring up some coffee, preferably strong.

It was medicinal at first, and then I just needed it.

I couldn't have you knowing, Gerald.

So you bought it cheaply from the fishmonger?

Well, at first I was paying it out of the housekeeping money, but then Gerald likes to account for every penny.

Mother, so that's where all the ornaments and the silverware were going?

Well, the fishmonger said he'd tell everybody what a hypocrite I am.

I had to pay him as best I could.

And the Johnsons?

Well, they found out about it.

They tried to help me, they did.

And then I lapsed once too often and they just resigned.

And you insisted on the dignity of at least paying them.

With Gerald's coins.

Well, I couldn't let them go with nothing, after all those years of service, and they'd been so good to me.

I had no idea.

The money, the corner you were in.

So... the night the Johnsons left, you'd been drinking?

That's what was wrong with you.

You should have told me.

I'm sorry, Gerald, it just got out of hand.

And I remember sitting down to bridge, and then it's all a blur.

The cards and the cocoa.

I just can't remember any of it.

Kip, on the night the Johnsons left, Gerald made cocoa for his mother.

What time was that?

Cocoa, Miss? I don't understand.

He said he made a cup for his mother.

Ah, I don't reckon so.

See, of an evening I'm meant to go home, but there's no room at my gran's, so the Johnsons let me sleep in the pantry.

And I would have known if anyone was at the stove.

Dot, do you suppose Hugh brought along his bathing suit?

I can ask, Miss.

Found it!

What a feat, Hugh!

Worthy of a bronze medallion.

Well done, Collins.

You were under for ages.

I thought you'd drowned. (Chuckles)

Jack: Toledo dagger.

Hm, looks like a collector's piece.

(Lock clatters)

Queenscliff Police Station.

Jack, the dagger belongs to Gerald.

So how did it get to the pier?

I'm not sure he's being entirely truthful with us.

He lied about making his mother cocoa the night of the theft.

Why would he do that?

Perhaps he was busy doing something else.

Chasing up his missing doubloon, for example, or doubloons, plural.

Do you happen to have that telegram handy?

Um... Yes.

What year was the museum's doubloon minted?

1798.

(Telephone tings)

Miss Fisher? Miss Fisher!

Nothing does get past you, does it?

You already had a doubloon.

Why steal the museum's one?

They deserved it.

They refused to fund me because I couldn't promise to bring back more precious curios for their glass cabinets.

As if that was ever the aim of true adventuring.

What about the Johnsons? You took their lives for a box of coins.

Those coins were mine!

If only she'd told me, instead of giving away the greatest find of my career!

The Johnsons were people, Gerald.

I could not hesitate!

(Dog barks)

(Indistinct shouting, clattering)

You hesitate out there, you're finished!

All he had to do was hand them over.

But he wouldn't!

(Gasps and pants)

I held her down.

And when the museum's doubloon was dug up in the sand?

Instead of reading about your murders, all you read about was treasure.

It was my reprieve.

That's all I need, Miss Fisher, one last reprieve.

Jack: Miss Fisher! Phryne!

Argh! Aaaargh!

Thank you, Jack. I don't think there'll be any need for that.

More tea, madam?

Oh, no, thank you.

The motor car is packed, Miss.

Thank you, Mr Butler.

The Inspector had to leave?

He's gone back to Melbourne, to return the illicit doubloon to the museum.

I must confess to some relief.

I don't think I could face him after the arrest of my son.

Oh, Prudence.

You know, I was never good enough for Warleigh Grammar, and this just proves it.

Oh, what nonsense!

No, it's true.

For this to happen with my son, and now you know the worst about me, let alone poor Gerald.

Hilly, do you remember those hours spent over Virgil?

Omnia vincit amor.

Love conquers all.

I'm going to stay on here a few days and we'll face society together.

Thank you.

Oh, darling.

What a shame. Gerald achieved extraordinary things in his lifetime.

He was a true adventurer.

Pity his last great adventure will be jail.

So, tell me, Jack.

Where did you collect your coins?

Amongst the ruins of ancient Greece, or deep in the jungles of Patagonia?

I inherited my collection from Uncle Ted and sold it at the age of 12, so I could buy my first bicycle.

Now that's an adventure.

It was. It was.

I rode further than I'd ever ridden before, through the uncharted wilds of North Richmond.

Where even Captain Flint didn't dare tread.

And the pirate girls of Collingwood ruled the waves.

To pirates, adventurers and boys on bicycles.

(Ting!)

♪ Away, away, with rum, by gum ♪
♪ With rum by gum, with rum by gum ♪
♪ Away, away, with rum, by gum ♪
♪ With rum by gum, with rum by gum ♪
♪ Away, away, with rum, by gum ♪
♪ The song of the Temperance Union ♪
♪ We don't step on grapes ♪
♪ Because that's making wine ♪
♪ And one little stomp ♪
♪ Turns a man into a swine ♪
♪ Oh, can you imagine ♪
♪ A sadder defeat ♪
♪ Than a man getting wasted ♪
♪ By licking his feet ♪
♪ Away, away, with rum, by gum ♪
♪ With rum by gum, with rum by gum ♪
♪ Away, away, with rum, by gum ♪
♪ The song of the Temperance Union ♪
♪ Away, away, with rum, by gum ♪
♪ With rum by gum, with rum by gum ♪
♪ Away, away, with rum, by gum ♪
♪ The song of the Temperance Union. ♪