02x12 - Unnatural Habits

[bunniefuu]

Hugh: Thought we might go to Sorrento for the honeymoon.

Good fishing there, is it?

(Chuckles)

Oh.

Hey!

Ha-hey, you got one!

Reel her in, reel her in.

Wha... There you go.

It's gonna break!

Uh...

(Grunts) What is it?

Turn your back.

Hugh...

That's...

Dottie, I said turn your back!

(Splashing)

♪ Theme music Nothing in the missing persons record, sir.

Pardon us, gentlemen.

Dot asked me to drive her here.

Dot, I told you not to come.

She's Catholic, Hugh.

It's the scapular, sir.

I don't want her to see it, but...

I want to help.

Dot may know which school or parish favours whatever motto's on it.

Alright.

'Whoever dies wearing this scapular shall not suffer eternal fire.'

And the back?

'Behold the sign of salvation.'

Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

That's no help.

Anybody could have that one.

These look like rope burns.

She was bound when Collins found her.

There's something else.

It was stitched into her smock.

The name's been washed off, but... there's a religious emblem.

That's the Magdalene laundry mark, from the Convent of the Sisters of the Holy Miracle.

Are you sure?

Yes.

The fallen and friendless girls do our laundry.

(Choir sings, bell tolls)

Mother Aloysius. Inspector Robinson.

The... Bishop has cleared my visit with you, I take it.

He didn't say anything about you bringing a companion.

The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher.

Miss Fisher is a lady detective.

Yes. Well, unfortunately, City South Police have yet to appoint any policewomen.

Thankfully, I'm happy to serve that function.

In that case, I'm sure the Bishop will approve.

Policewoman?

Don't worry, Jack.

You'll never get me in that uniform.

Unless, of course, you cuff me.

Mother! Mother, we've confirmed.

Catherine is to be apprenticed to a milliner.

Oh! What... now...

If your needlepoint is anywhere near as good as I think it is, you're going to be a great success.

Wait by the gate, Catherine.

The cab will arrive presently.

The police are here about Bernadette's disappearance.

Perpetua, who oversees all our programs with the girls.

And Sister Dominica.

Don't we do your laundry?

You do, indeed.

To absolute perfection.

Do you know Bernadette's full name?

I'm afraid we don't.

She came to us as an orphan some years ago now, and we named her for the saint.

You said she's gone missing.

Yes.

She was placed in employment at the Federal Hotel some time ago, but she returned to us late last night in a state.

About what?

She was of the opinion hotel kitchen hand was beneath her.

Hysterical. I couldn't calm her.

I put her to bed.

But by morning she was gone. Again.

Are any of you familiar with this?

We suspect it could be Bernadette's.

I'm afraid we fished her body out of the river this morning.

And it appears her death wasn't an accident.

Oh... dear God!

Perpetua: I'll take you through the laundry.

(Machines hum and hiss, coughing)

This is where I put her for the night.

Not in the dormitory?

It was past midnight. She would've unsettled the other girls.

We call it the Penitence Room.

Back to work now. You'll take over from Agnes on the mangle.

My favourite job.

And remember to beg our Lord's forgiveness for your wicked, ungrateful attitude.

If I do that, do you think he'll start paying us wages?

Ada, go.

My name is Mary.

You ain't fit to kiss the Holy Mother's feet, let alone share her name.

Do you mean to tell me these girls aren't paid?

We're blessed to live in the Lord's house, Miss Fisher.

No-one gets paid here.

The Magdalene Laundries are exempt from usual labour laws.

Do you think you could make it any less harrowing?

This place is straight out of the pages of David Copperfield.

How did Bernadette get out of here?

Those were hanging from the window.

What's on the other side?

The riverbank, as it happens.

It's quite a drop.

Perhaps she slipped and fell.

I'll need to talk to the girls one by one. Of course.

Though... we'd prefer your policewoman wait outside.

I would prefer her presence.

The girls are grateful for the shelter we provide, Inspector.

We don't want to stir up dissatisfaction with the talk of workers' rights and regulations.

I'm sure you don't.

We're not a factory here.

We're a family.

If Miss Fisher keeps her opinions to herself...

It's alright, Jack.

I'd rather leave than do that.

I do have other leads to follow.

And a new launderer to find.

And... voila.

These sheets were tied with thief knots.

They'd never bear the weight of a young girl.

Hm. I do know my knots, Miss Fisher.

I'm curious as to how you do.

There was this Portuguese sailor I once knew.

Don't... Enough.

So somebody prepared the rope to explain Bernadette's escape.

Who would need to do that?

Whoever let her out.

One of the girls?

They're hardly forthcoming.

Well, what do you expect? They live in fear of the Penitence Room.

My father used to lock me in a cupboard to try and break my spirit.

Clearly didn't leave you there long enough. What about Perpetua?

Or one of the nuns.

I can't imagine them doing Bernadette a favour.

Oh, you've... you've creased it now.

Oh, come here.

Jack. Miss Fisher.

You do indeed keep close company these days.

I was just on my way out.

I received a disturbing telephone call from a very irate bishop.

We need to tread very carefully with the Catholic Church, Jack.

You know that.

A little too carefully, it seems.

If that laundry was run outside of the convent, it would be in breach of child cruelty laws.

The Church answers to a higher law, and we're obliged to respect that.

Which is why you're handing the investigation over to Detective Inspector O'Shaughnessy.

O'Shaughnessy is an incompetent!

O'Shaughnessy may not be up to your standards, Jack.

But he has the distinct advantage of being Catholic.

It is now his case, by order of the Chief Commissioner.

Well, then I... I...

I need to speak with him.

Chief Commissioner Hall resigned this morning.

Well, who's his replacement?

You're looking at him.

Congratulations.

It's my first day on the job.

Don't make it any more difficult.

Does George Sanderson really believe that a man with an O in front of his name will bring charges against a pack of nuns?

Leave it alone, Miss Fisher.

Prudence: We worked so hard to find jobs for those convent girls.

The Gratitude girls were not the ones we plucked out from the gutter.

Only the best behaved were chosen.

What, and the rest were doomed to sl*very amongst the suds of that hideous laundry?

Bad girls, good sheets and not a penny in wages.

I would've turned to the convent if I hadn't met you, Miss.

They have no choice.

All the more reason not to exploit them.

As for your 'good' girls, Aunt Prudence, are you telling me that two of them have gone missing?

(Scoffs) Joan did not go missing, she absconded.

During my Gratitude Patrons dinner.

She wasn't even part of the program.

But I gave her a chance, a plum placement in my very own household.

Bernadette had a plum placement too, at the Federal Hotel.

Oh, all of our board are well connected.

The Worthingtons, the Comptons, the Fletchers, and we all do what we can.

Fletcher as in Sidney Fletcher?

Yes, their eldest.

He's godson of George Sanderson, deputy police commissioner.

And fiance to Jack's ex-wife, Rosie.

(Scoffs)

You have a very roundabout way of looking at things, dear.

Ah. Yes.

There's Joan.

Joan? She didn't seem the runaway type.

(Sighs) She made a wonderful flummery.

Not even those bottle-top glasses could save my Royal Albert tea set from ruin.

'Morning, Sister. The Honourable Miss Fisher's laundry, as per usual.

Today's Wednesday.

As per usual, it's Monday.

8 sets of satin sheets, 18 pairs of smalls, 12 camisoles?

House guests.

That woman!

Put it round the back.

Bless you, Sister.

Keep the noise down.

They're at morning prayers.

All clear.

Taking holy orders would've been the easier option. You call that driving?

Happy to swap cars if you like.

How will you get out?

Meet you out the front in an hour.

Give me three good reasons why I shouldn't scream the place down.

Give me three good reasons why you should.

Why did Perpetua call you Ada yesterday?

They change everybody's name when you get here, to saints.

(Chuckles)

What was Saint Ada's claim to fame?

She was a dedicated virgin.

Hard act to follow.

This was the factory foreman's idea.

Not mine.

You know I'm not the police, Mary.

Did you see Bernadette the night she came back?

I was reprieved on her account.

It was the first time in a month I got to sleep in the dorm.

She was bawling like a baby and begging Perpetua not to let him get her.

Who?

She said something about a man outside the hotel, um...

And she was going on about a car.

A fancy black car.

And she was talking about Joan.

Joan?

We called her Four Eyes.

The nuns' pet.

She and Bernadette were best friends until they sent Joan off to work for some rich old battleaxe who took a shine to her cooking.

Was Bernadette prone to hysterics?

I hardly knew her.

They kept the good girls away from us bad eggs.

But she left a message.

I only saw it there this morning.

(Reads) '112 De Vere.'

This has been scratched in.

With these. (Grunts)

Joan's.

(Door opens and creaks)

Good morning, Collins.

Sir, the... the autopsy report on Bernadette.

Um... Give it to O'Shaughnessy.

He's in charge of this case now.

But... but...

Immediately, Collins.

Shall I send Mr Fletcher to O'Shaughnessy too, sir?

You telephoned him yesterday, asked him to come in.

He and your wife... your ex-wife.

Ex-wife.

Y-yes, Collins.

(Softly) How many times do I have to say that?

(Door creaks)

So, why were you locked in there?

This time?

I put Epsom salts instead of sugar in the sisters' tapioca pudding.

They were up all night with the shits...

(Door creaks)

I assure you, I have personally reassigned the case.

There will be no more aggravation.

Commissioner. Perpetua. Excellent drying weather, wouldn't you say?

Aah! Ah!

You broke into the convent.

No, of course not.

I was smuggled.

I thought these dilettante society types slept till noon.

Unlawful trespass, break and entry.

I want this woman brought to heel.

Would you like me to roll over and fetch too?

You seem to have some sway over her.

Rosie, Sidney, what are you doing here?

We were summoned.

Well, at least Sidney was.

We've come to see if we can help with that poor convent girl.

And as a member of the Gratitude board.

So my aunt tells me.

I... forgot to cancel the appointment.

Father, I believe you've taken Jack off this case. Why?

It's a diplomacy issue, my dear.

Jack understands.

It's nothing for you to worry about.

No, no, no.

But... if you don't keep Miss Fisher under a tighter rein, you may find yourself suspended from all duties.

Goodbye, Miss Fisher.

Jack, I'm sorry.

Please tell me your break-in was worth all this... fuss.

You tell me.

Mary found these in the Penitence Room the day after Bernadette did her disappearing act.

Joan's. Aunt Prudence's runaway maid.

Only, according to Mary, Joan was a good girl and never did time in the Penitence Room.

How'd they get there?

Bernadette had them with her when she returned to the convent, and she used the glass to scratch this into the wall.

112 De Vere.

An address?

Possibly. Of the man she referred to.

Why scratch it into a wall?

Why not tell the nuns?

Well, according to Mary, she tried.

But... perhaps they didn't listen.

Collins!

I really am very sorry, Jack, that you're in so much hot water because of me.

Don't be remorseful.

It only confuses me.

Collins, when I told you to send on that autopsy report immediately, I...

Hardly had time to get on to it, sir. Thank you.

It is addressed to me after all.

Thank goodness. I'd hate to think you were disobeying a directive.

So, was the victim already dead or did she drown in the river, sir?

Jack?

Drowned, Collins.

(Sighs)

Can't have been pleasant for Hugh to fish her out of the water.

'In the water overnight, injury found under the hair, most likely caused by a blunt instrument.'

But not the cause of death.

No.

There was sea water in the lungs, notable for an exceptionally high saline content.

Then the body can't have come downstream from the convent.

It must have been washed upstream from the bay!

Much further than that.

The lungs also contain traces of red algae, a type that is not found in either the River Yarra or Port Phillip Bay.

Bert: Here's where Hugh and Dottie found the girl.

The Warmies?

Why do they call it that?

Because the water's warm, on account of the power station here.

Tide comes in, tide goes out.

Anything bobbing about in the bay or the river can get caught up.

How do you explain the salt water in Bernadette's lungs?

Some foreign ship in dock was dumping ballast near where she went into the drink?

Somehow, after leaving the convent, she winds up in the docks, where she's fed to the sharks and washes upriver.

That make any sense to you?

Not yet.

If we knew where the ship was from...

The Red Sea.

It says here, it has an exceptionally high salinity, and the reason it looks red is because of some special algae.

Can we find out who's in port?

Cec's niece's husband will know.

Excuse me, Miss Fisher.

There's a young lady here demanding to see you.

Your lock pick. Thank you.

It worked a treat.

You're a bad influence, Miss Fisher.

And, no, you can't keep her.

Her is Mary. And I certainly won't send her back to that laundry.

She is clearly unfit for heavy duties All I want is a job, any job.

But who's going to take in a girl in my condition?

No. Absolutely not.

But you love a challenge, Aunt Prudence. Your very own Pygmalion.

Passionfruit flummery, I should've known.

Mary made it herself.

(Sighs)

They do say charity begins at home.

Honestly, Phryne!

I sit on 13 boards, I spend most of my life raising money for worthy causes.

Don't you think I do enough?

What is it, Bert?

We struck a snag at the harbourmaster's office.

Cec's niece's husband doesn't do family favours anymore.

Getting that ship's name is going to cost.

Where is he?

He's a chatty one, old Ted.

Once you loosen his tongue.

Oh! Well, I think £10 has loosened it too much.

(Sighs)

Next time I'm planting petunias, I'll ask your advice.

Thank you, thank you.

(Sighs) Sorry, sir. De Vere Crescent is Shannon's Nursery.

Damn!

Maybe it's a name.

Then what are the numbers?

Post office box, motor registration?

De Vere sounds foreign.

She's a merchant ship called the Pandarus, on a run between Antwerp and Melbourne via the Red Sea.

Captain's Belgian.

One William De Vere.

112!

A fancy black car.

(Distant shouting)

Looks like our captain.

Ted says she docked three weeks ago, but she's due to sail out in another week.

What's she carrying?

According to the manifest, sugar.

Could be a cover for something dodgy.

Then we better find a way to get on board and find out.

(Indistinct conversation)

(Grunts) Mate!

Man: Yeah, what about the bilge?

(Indistinct chatter)

(Men speak indistinctly)

De Vere: But keep that hatch closed!

Man: Captain De Vere.

What now?

Man: (Indistinct)..down again.

Well, fix it.

There's been enough delays.

I want us back on schedule.

(Men shout distantly)

We think it's broken.

Can't you do anything right?

So, how did a good convent girl like Bernadette come to be in the cabin of this Captain De Vere?

And why did he try to abduct her from the Federal Hotel?

If it was him.

There's no car - big, black or otherwise - registered in the name of De Vere.

Well, he's Belgian.

Must belong to an accomplice.

What kind of car was it?

A Cadillac.

Under normal circumstances, I'd take this to George.

Well, Commissioner Sanderson.

But you're already perilously close to being out of a job.

You don't think it's wise to antagonise him any further?

You're much more use to me if you remain a policeman, Jack.

A policeman who can't bring anyone into the station for questioning.

No offence, but my parlour is much more comfortable.

Why would a Gratitude girl be in the cabin of a Belgian sea captain?

We can only speculate at the moment.

You think she was a stowaway?

That's one possible explanation, yes.

Oh. Off to see the world.

But that doesn't explain why Bernadette carved the Captain's name into the Penitence Room wall.

Or why her hands were bound.

Perhaps she was... discovered in the hold.

Did Bernadette say anything to the nuns about a ship?

Well, she knew the name of the captain.

So their paths must have crossed.

Any more than that?

We don't know.

Whatever happened to Bernadette, we... we need to consider... Joan may have gone the same way.

You think they ran away together?

(Sighs) Perhaps I was a little too snappy with Joan.

But she needed to learn.

Do you know if any other girls went missing from their Gratitude placements?

Jack, don't you think you should pass all this information on to Father?

Do you think that's wise? Considering he took Jack off the case?

He didn't have a choice, the Bishop was breathing down his neck.

And your constant meddling hasn't helped.

Sidney: Darling, Jack's right.

As the new chief commissioner, George's hands are even more tightly bound than Jack's.

I'll get you a list of the Gratitude employers.

My address book's out in the car.

Good. I'll get them on to Collins.

(Door opens)

You've really made things worse for Jack, you know?

Unusually devoted, isn't she?

For an ex-wife.

Bert: Pandarus was due to sail next week.

But it turns out she's sailing tonight.

Sudden change in itinerary.

Well, that's suspicious.

She could've sailed already.

Nah. She won't want to go through the heads until slack water.

Tonight around midnight.

I'll inform the Commissioner.

He'll have to act now.

You can wait for Sanderson to act, but I'm not holding my breath.

No, wait, wait.

Whether he's trading in kidnap or m*rder, that captain's a nasty piece of work.

I don't want anyone to go near the docks.

Please, Miss Fisher.

Do what you're told just this once.

I'll... let you know what I find.

The Inspector's right. It's far more dangerous than I imagined.

But I am well armed and an excellent sh*t.

We can't do anything, Miss?

A thermos of tea would be lovely.

What do you reckon, Cec?

Fists of steel?

Could be risky.

If weaponry is your only problem, gentlemen, I may be able to assist.

And this is the Mauser Broomhandle semi-a*t*matic.

Not quite as impressive as the MP18, but so much more competent.

These should do the job.

Thanks, Mr B.

Happy to help.

George: You said that was handed in.

Found at the docks, near the Pandarus.

Well, that is certainly enough for a raid warrant.

Good. We've only got a few hours before she sails.

If you organise the paperwork and the manpower, Collins and I can head to the docks.

I'm afraid not, Jack.

Look, I appreciate your help.

But this is not your investigation and you've already overstepped the mark.

O'Shaughnessy's an imbecile!

If that ship sails, you'll be letting a m*rder*r get away.

I'm aware of O'Shaughnessy's limitations, Jack.

That's why I'll be leading this raid myself.

But I'm ordering you to stop interfering.

If you disobey...

I won't hesitate to dismiss you.

(Screaming)

The doctor says it's too late to go to the lying-in home.

He'll get here as soon as he can.

No! I don't need a doctor!

It's not my time!

Hold on to me.

(Screams)

Oh, dear.

I'll boil up some water and get the scissors sterilised.

And bring some towels, Mr Butler.

Loads of towels.

No, no, no! Don't bring anything!

It's not my time!

Nonsense, girl.

(Sobs)

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

I've been bad and wicked and God is going to let the nuns take my baby away!

God will do nothing of the kind or he'll be answerable to me!

Now pull yourself together, girl, you've got work to do.

It's not called 'labour' for nothing.

(Sobs and screams)

Phryne: No sign of the black car.

Bert: No-one on deck either.

Cec: Looks like the coast is clear.

Keep your head down and the doors locked, Dot.

(Rats squeak)

You know what they say about rats and sinking ships.

Maybe De Vere's been warned.

If he had been, the Pandarus would be halfway up to sea by now.

Well, if there are holding anybody on board, it'll be hard to find 'em.

Smugglers are a crafty lot.

How do you think we get your French champagne into the country?

Or that Russian caviar you're so partial to.

Here I was thinking you picked it up from Victoria Markets, Bert.

(Metallic clattering)

Who's there?

Joan!

Miss Fisher, is that you?

I can't see.

(Sobs)

Joan, it's alright.

Please, we have to leave.

Please, he'll come back.

Sh!

Please!

You're safe now. You're safe now.

(Sobs)

Joan.

Here.

This tea should keep you warm.

Here.

What the hell's happened to Miss Fisher?

I hope she finds the others before it's too late.

What others?

I was locked up with the others before they brought us water.

That's when I escaped.

Come on, we're going back.

Man: Get out of car! Come here!

(Dot screams)

Come here! Oi! Get out!

(Phone rings)

(Knocking)

(Door creaks)

Oh, you poor lambs.

(g*n cocks)

(Phryne gasps)

I'm afraid I'll have to tie you up.

But I'm sure you'd prefer your own cabin anyway.

Come down.

Now!

Collins.

Any news on the raid?

No, sir.

But I managed to track down some more details on that black motor car.

It's registered to a company, sir.

An SWF Exports.

SWF. Sounds familiar. Who owns it?

What are you doing here, Jack?

I told you everything was under control.

Doesn't look like it.

Where's your manpower?

I will handle this any way I see fit.

You two set one foot on that ship, your jobs are finished.

You can go, Collins.

No, thank you, sir.

You can reprimand me.

You can dismiss me if you like.

But I am searching that ship.

(Mumbles)

Where is she?

I told you not to set foot on this ship, Jack.

George, what the hell are you covering up?

I warned you, Jack!

Constable, handcuff him! Constable, handcuff him to this post!

And leave him there.

Miss Fisher!

Phryne? Miss Fisher!

(Phryne mumbles)

Miss Fisher!

Where are you?

(Phryne breathes heavily)

Miss Fisher?

Jack!

Jack!

Miss Fisher!

Jack!

Jack, the girls are locked in the front hold and Fletcher's behind it all!

(g*nsh*t ricochets)

(Bang!)

(g*nshots)

(Indistinct shouting and grunting)

(Grunting and g*nshots)

We've got to get the girls before Fletcher does.

(Grunting)

Hey!

Ah!

(Gasps) Dottie!

(g*nsh*t)

Fletcher!

Stop! Stop!

(Both grunt)

(g*nsh*t)

(Fletcher grunts)

(Splash!)

(Coughs)

Shall we fish him out, sir?

I suppose we'll have to.

Make sure you take your time.

(Splutters)

Dot, Bert, Cec, well done.

Fists of steel, Miss.

Fists of steel.

You wouldn't let me take my vows, so I was serving the church however I could.

By sending those girls away?

£10 a piece De Vere paid me.

And every penny of it went into the good works fund, Mother.

I swear it. £10 a piece.

And Fletcher made sure all the chosen girls were white, fair-haired and virtuous.

What's known in the trade as White Gold.

You used innocent girls to further your own cause.

Innocent?

They were born out of wedlock, most of them, the offspring of whores.

Their souls were already lost.

It's your soul that's lost, Perpetua.

Joan: I lost them at the back of that car.

And Bernadette found them when De Vere tried to abduct her the same way.

Your spectacles were Bernadette's warning... to flee.

She left them for me?

Along with the clue we needed to find you all.

Why did they k*ll her?

She'd already escaped once, and she knew too much.

(De Vere shouts)

(Bernadette screams)

The captain was carrying out Fletcher's orders.

I hope he burns in hell!

Jack: Fletcher's bargaining power.

All souvenirs from the best clients, the best brothels in town.

There is nothing of mine in that box.

I tried to close down the brothels.

He couldn't blackmail me.

But he could bribe you.

By promising to bring down Commissioner Hall with all this, so you could take his place.

You'll have to prove it first.

True. And luckily, we have a witness.

The night of my aunt's Gratitude dinner, her scullery maid, Joan, overheard you and Fletcher having a heated discussion on the verandah.

We know you did him favours, protected Fletcher, turned a blind eye to his... cargo.

Joan wasn't meant to be on that ship, was she?

She was abducted because she'd heard too much.

Who's going to believe the word of a guttersnipe?

Against that of the chief commissioner of police.

My aunt, Prudence Stanley, happens to be very fond of Joan.

So she will come with the highest references, and have the best legal representation that money can buy.

I looked up to you, George.

I respected you.

(Exhales angrily)

(Sniffs)

I didn't know what Fletcher was up to, Rosie. I swear.

How could you not know?

Those poor girls!

Please, please try to understand.

How could you?

How could you? I can't look at you.

(Sobs)

(Sobs) Oh, God!

(Sobs)

I'm sorry.

(Sobs) Oh, don't...

(Sobs)

(Sobs) Oh, Jack...

(Sobs) Oh, no. Oh, God...

(Door opens and closes)

Are they always this red?

Always.

But the doctor says this one is as strong as an ox. (Giggles)

Aren't you, my little man? (Coos)

Wonderful.

Now all we need to do is find a placement for Mary.

She already has a placement with me.

Once she's completely recovered, of course.

Doing what?

She can assist Cook.

I've no doubt that her soup will come up to scratch once she's had a bit of practice.

And her flummery?

Quite good, actually.

It's alright, Mrs Stanley.

I can take over.

Good. Thank you, Dot.

(Chuckles) Bye-bye.

(Knocking)

How am I going to be able to come home to you and our own kids... when my head's so full of these terrible things people do?

That girl wasn't much younger than you, Dottie.

If you hadn't had met Miss Fisher, that could've been you.

But I did meet Miss Fisher, and it wasn't me.

And there are good things in the world too.

Look.

(Knocks)

I thought you were with Rosie.

I was.

Is it too late?

Never.

I've never seen her like that before.

She was in shock.

She... just needed some company.

She needed you, Jack Robinson.

The man who always does the right thing.

The noble thing.

Not always, Miss Fisher.

Was that the baby?

Oh. It's very late, Inspector.

Yes. Yes, it is.

But I'm glad we cleared up that detail, Miss Fisher.

So am I, Jack. So am I.

(Baby gurgles)

It's alright, little man.

I'm coming.

Until our next m*rder investigation, then.

I look forward to it.

The investigation, not... not the m*rder.

Of course.

Jack.

Miss Fisher.

♪ ROMANTIC 1920s JAZZ MUSIC