03x07 - Game, Set & m*rder

[bunniefuu]

(Tennis ball thwacks)

(Screams)

♪ Theme music ♪

Dot: It'll be exciting, having a tennis champion to stay.

Do you think Mrs Burrows will sign this for me?

I'm sure she'd be delighted to.

I don't think much of tennis, but her pins are alright.

That's not why she's in the paper.

Could have fooled me.

(Knocking at door)

Hugh!

Dottie!

You hardly even wrote.

I, uh, I sent you postcards.

About fish.

Dottie, I'm sorry I left in a huff - I was confused about...

I was just confused, but I missed you very much.

If we're going to get married, you have to promise you'll never do that again.

Of course we're getting married.

What about your mother?

Well, I gave her a choice.

I said I could either marry a virtuous Catholic girl or a Protestant girl with loose morals.

What Protestant girl?

No, there's no... no-one.

There's no Protestant... but don't tell her that.

Oh! Ah!

She's given us her blessing.

Besides, she's not going to argue with a senior constable, now, is she?

A promotion?

The Inspector told the top brass that if they didn't give me the promotion, he'd resign.

Oh, Hugh! I'm so glad you're home.

Stanley: Very good of your aunt to let us take over her court.

She'll be back for the tournament?

Phryne: No! Not on your life.

No, Aunt Prudence can't abide ball sports.

I thought she was just miffed over missing our wedding.

I'm the one who's miffed!

Stanley, you're one of my dearest friends and I had no idea!

We eloped, Phryne. That's the whole point.

Nobody was invited.

Don't forget the split step.

Keep the contact point in front of your body.

And you cut your honeymoon short.

Oh, for the Sydney Cup! I couldn't miss that.

And as Constance's coach, I had to agree, but we didn't mind spending our honeymoon on the court.

Not literally, one hopes.

You'd better save some of your firepower for the tournament.

With any luck, we'll have a full house.

With Constance playing, I have no doubt.

Mrs Burrows, I was wondering if you'd mind signing this.

Oh, no!

That windy day at Sydney Cup - I'm practically naked!

I think you look divine!

So do I.

Oh, who took the sh*ts?

Mr Fredrick Burn.

Yes, I've had my encounters with him.

It's always a dance with the press.

A dance?

I want nothing to do with that hideous man or his pictures.

Oh, sorry, Miss Williams!

Of course I'll sign for you.

Thank you.

Miss Fisher! Over here!

Phryne: Belinda Roswell - she was Constance's... er, Mrs Burrows' practice partner.

She's much more than that. She's a future champion in her own right.

I can't believe this!

Stanley: It'll be OK, darling.

These puncture marks look like a spider bite. Strange.

As far as I know, there are no lethal spiders in Victoria.

As far as you know? What about redback?

A redback bite wouldn't be fatal.

Whatever it was, it was clearly in her shoe.

That's my shoe.

Your shoe?

Bel wanted to stay behind after we left to practise her serve, but there was some problem with her shoes.

I said she could borrow mine.

What time was that?

Around three o'clock. (Sobs) I'm sorry!

May we be excused?

You showed remarkable restraint, not investigating till I arrived.

Well, I'm happy for you to be the scout, Jack, while we wait and see what kind of wildlife we're dealing with.

Miss Fisher, I found this in the hedge.

A broken shoelace? Well spotted, Dot!

That explains why she was wearing Constance's shoes.

Must have been a fast-acting venom if it prevented the victim from escaping the rotunda.

I must say, Hugh, those new stripes suit you.

You know, I think the family are all in England, but there might be some sort of addre...

Arggh!

Spider.

Take this to the car, please, Collins, along with Miss Roswell's belongings.

Hugh: Yes, sir.

Well, I've finally found your Achilles heel, Miss Fisher - fear of arachnids.

I'm not afraid, I just... like to know where they are.

What's that over there?

(Shrieks)

Man: Miss Fisher?

Lovely. Now, look right at me.

Oi! Clear off!

Don't say anything.

It's Fredrick Burn from The Globe.

You're a gift, Miss Fisher.

(Don't.)

Hugh: Poor Miss Fisher. I've never seen her like that.

How about you, eh? Cool as a cucumber.

I love all of God's creatures, Hugh, though it does make it hard when they k*ll people.

Dottie, you've brought half the hedge back with you.

(Shutter clicks)

(Dot laughs)

It's a Sydney funnel-web, which explains a lot.

Their fangs are so powerful, they can penetrate fingernails and soft shoes, let alone the poor girl's cotton socks.

And when it's cornered, it bites its victim repeatedly, which explains the multiple puncture wounds and that local bleeding on the foot.

Could you estimate the time of death?

I'd say, approximately 6pm.

Which explains why no-one saw anything - training finished at three.

But a Sydney funnel-web, are you sure?

Certain.

It's distinctly odd - this spider isn't native to Melbourne.

Must have crawled inside Mrs Burrows' bag when they were in Sydney for the Cup.

How devious.

But highly unlikely.

This species hides away in dark and moist places and actively avoids light, open spaces like tennis courts.

Mac, are you suggesting human intervention?

I'm saying that can't be discounted.

Which means the spider could have been deliberately placed in Constance's shoe.

A m*rder attempt on me?

Dear God!

I'm sorry to alarm you, Constance, but can you think of anyone who may want to hurt you?

Both: Angela Lombard.

She never misses an opportunity to put Constance off her game.

Angela's been world champion for several years now, but when you're up that high, the only way is down.

With Constance nipping at her heels?

Yes, and last I heard, world champions don't take kindly to that sort of thing.

This is the SY Ena. Isn't she glorious?

Angela's a keen sailor, so I've arranged to have her stay on board while she's here for my tennis tournament.

Your tournament?

Yes.

I'm holding a fundraising cocktail party on board tomorrow afternoon.

I never knew you were so passionate about tennis.

I have many passions, Jack, including women's rights.

Did you know the Australian Lawn Tennis Association pays for our men to compete all over the world, and women have to pay their own way?

It's a gross injustice!

If anyone is to address that, it'll be you, Miss Fisher.

Somebody has to.

We can't all be married to wealthy men like Stanley, who's a tennis coach to boot.

Angela, on the other hand, is in the midst of an ugly divorce from her extremely wealthy husband.

Leaving her with financial trouble?

And a waning career, which makes her a potentially desperate woman.

(Dance-band jazz plays on gramophone)

Well, if it isn't the Honourable Miss Fisher!

Who's your fella? I hope your intentions aren't honourable.

I'm Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, Miss Lombard.

We're here on official business.

I'm afraid Belinda Roswell's been m*rder*d.

You mean Constance's understudy? That's lousy luck for the kid.

It certainly is, especially since it seems the intended victim was Constance.

You don't say.

Where were you yesterday afternoon?

Below deck with Terence Lawson.

We left the court at your aunt's house around midday and stayed right here for the rest of the day.

Doing what?

You're a red-blooded woman.

Take a guess.

Man: Ange, who are you talk...

G'day, Miss Fisher.

Mr Lawson.

Here for business or pleasure?

This is Detective Inspector Robinson. We'd like to ask you a few questions.

Down at the station, if I may.

What time did you and Miss Lombard leave the tennis court yesterday?

Two o'clock.

You sound very sure.

That's because I am.

Has Miss Lombard ever said anything to you about wanting to harm Constance Burrows?

Don't you mean Belinda?

It appears the intended victim was Constance.

Connie?

'Connie?'

We used to play mixed doubles together.

But that's all there was between you?

Not for the lack of trying on my part.

I was keen on Connie, like all the other blokes, but all she was interested in was playing tennis.

Must have hurt your pride.

Not particularly.

I had plenty of other options.

Terence Lawson? We never socialised off the court.

I can't see why he'd want to k*ll me.

He admitted he was enamoured with you.

Really?

I always thought he was just enamoured with tennis, like the rest of us.

Don't you think it's the most glorious game, Phryne?

When I see a perfectly struck ground stroke or I hear the thwack of the ball on the racquet and I smell that freshly cut lawn, my heart almost aches for the beauty of it.

There's no doubt tennis is the love of your life.

It has some stiff competition from Stanley.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

That's a beautiful dress.

Yes.

Except I haven't worn it for awhile, and it's rather too snug at the moment.

You alright?

Oh, I'm trying to keep a cold at bay.

That's why I've brought my own brew with me.

Seems to be helping.

Stanley: I see you, Burn!

Phryne?

I just saw that damn Fredrick Burn lurking in the bushes!

Stay here.

Mr Burn!

Leave immediately, or I'll have you arrested for trespassing.

Can't do a thing. I'm outside the gate.

Stanley. We don't want two murders on our hands.

Au revoir, ladies and gentlemen.

Poor Constance! As if losing Bel isn't enough.

This could throw her right off her game.

Oh, I know how that sounds, but her training for the US Championships is the only thing helping her cope.

If that damn Burn...

Oh, my God! How could I have forgotten?

Constance made a formal harassment complaint against him last week.

Last week?

In Sydney.

And the police told us that he was already facing other charges.

What other charges?

They wouldn't elaborate.

Well, this certainly warrants a chat with Mr Burn.

Morning, sir.

I, er, thought you should see this.

Jack: 'Is it love-all for the Honourable Miss Fisher?'

'It seems the raven-haired lady detective has found a new ball boy in Inspector Jack Robinson.'

What do you think, Dot?

I think he's captured our best angles.

Well, Collins, if you'll forgive another pun, I think I'm in for a serve.

(Telephone rings)

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.

Yes, Commissioner.

Understood.

Goodbye, sir.

I am forbidden to solve cases with a civilian.

Won't be long, Collins.

Thank you, Mr Butler.

Jack, I have news.

Apparently, Fredrick Burn is facing a number of criminal charges.

I'll get Collins onto it. Sign this.

What have I just agreed to?

You are now a special constable of the Victoria Police Force.

How wonderful! Don't I get a certificate or something?

I've been saving this since I was ten years old... for Buffalo Bill... but you'll have to do.

Mr Butler, have you seen Miss Fisher?

She's just gone out with the Inspector.

(Knocks at door)

Mr Burn, open up! Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.

(Deep voice) And Special Constable Phryne Fisher.

What?

I didn't appreciate you lurking outside my house yesterday.

That's harassment.

I don't harass people!

I'm getting sick of toffs acting holier-than-thou when they should be thanking me for the exposure!

If this is about that pic in The Globe...

This is about m*rder.

Constance Burrows recently filed a formal complaint against you.

You can't have been happy about that.

Constance Burrows is a whinging cow.

What's that got to do with the young piece of skirt that carked it?

Belinda's m*rder was intended for Constance, but perhaps you already knew that.

How could I?

Where were you on Tuesday afternoon?

Wherever Constance Burrows was.

Look, why would I try and k*ll her?

I'm not gonna bite the hand that feeds me!

Snaps of that stupid bint are my meal ticket!

And what are these?

Arggh!

So, Mr Burn, I think this calls for a closer look at your handiwork.

If I find out these photos were taken after you were charged with obscenity...

I'm not selling these. They're art - for my own private edification.

Art?

Yeah.

It was good enough for Michelangelo.

These young ladies better not have been coerced.

Don't get your silk knickers in a knot, Miss Fisher.

They all volunteered for a few spare bob.

See anyone you like?

Hey!

Thank you. Sit down!

That's my Lumberjack Whisky, and you can't take that.

Lumberjack? You can only get this in Canada.

(Sniffs) Or America.

They smuggle it over the border to cheat prohibition.

You don't strike me as a seasoned traveller. Where'd you get it?

Friend.

Hello, Hugh. I've brought you some evidence.

Lucky one of us is working on the case.

No, I was just... I was just checking something.

Oh, no.

What?

Look!

'It's a handful of fun for Senior Constable Hugh Collins and Miss Phryne Fisher's companion, Miss Dorothy Williams.'

It looks like you're touching my...

No, it doesn't, Dottie. It doesn't.

But it says, 'a handful of fun', so that's what everyone will think.

(Door opens)

You!

Collins!

It's not my fault you can't keep your paws off each other.

Get out of here before I lock you up.

Phryne: Oh, Dot!

What's my mother going to say, Miss?

And Hugh's mother. She thought I was virtuous.

And anyone who knows you knows that you are.

What's that you've got?

I found it when I went to repair Mrs Burrows' evening dress.

Virtuous and brilliant!

Phryne: 'Forever yours, Terry.'

You mean Connie kept this? Where did you find it?

Mr Lawson, perhaps you're missing the point.

This proves you lied to us.

(Laughs) It wasn't me!

Alright, Connie dumped me for Stanley and it stung a bit.

Like I said, I've got plenty of takers.

I don't doubt that for a moment, but it remains abundantly clear your heart still belongs to Constance.

How long were you and Mrs Burrows together?

We met when we were tennis-mad kids in Horsham.

What went wrong?

What hasn't gone wrong this year?

I injured my shoulder at the end of summer, then I missed out on the finals, and then, just after Easter, Connie ditched me out of the blue.

Next thing I knew, she'd married Stanley Burrows.

But she kept my picture. She must still care for me.

And yet she married my friend Stanley.

She must have had her reasons, Mr Lawson.

Constance: I'm so sorry, Phryne, but you're one of Stanley's dearest friends, and I panicked.

I shouldn't have lied.

It won't help our investigation.

If you and Terence were a couple long before you met Stanley, then why the need to keep it secret?

Because... we were intimate.

If the press ever found out, they'd gladly drag me down - all for the sake of a youthful dalliance.

If that's all it was, then why keep this photograph?

I forgot about it.

I don't want Stanley to find out and get the wrong impression.

So, your husband doesn't know about your history with Mr Lawson?

Stanley: Yes, he does.

It wasn't hard to see that you'd thrown the poor fellow over for me.

He's mooning around you constantly.

Oh, Stanley! Terence is rewriting history.

The fact is he always had his eye on other girls.

Is that why you ended the affair?

I was confused, so I went away to clear my head and realised that all I could think about was Stanley - and my forehand volley!

You should have been thinking about your back spin.

I don't mean to make light of Ter...

(Screams) Get it away from me!

Another spider?

Snake!

No, it's an eel.

(Giggles)

You won't put me off my game that easily!

Stanley, I'm sure it's our turn on court.

Be my guest! I need to cool off anyway.

I'll let you deal with the bombshell while I keep my eye on the newlyweds.

Inspector! Fabulous sh*t of you and Miss Fisher in The Globe today.

Are you exclusively Phryne's ball boy or do you spread yourself around?

Only a glass? You gave Fredrick Burn a whole flask.

I wouldn't have thought he was your type.

You got that right. I prefer a man with a g*n in his hand.

Then why offer him your good whisky?

There's something between you, isn't there?

Oh, honey! Now you're just sounding jealous.

I already told you - I like you better.

Miss Lombard, perhaps you don't realise how precarious your alibi is.

Mr Lawson recalls things differently.

What can I tell you?

When a fella's with me, he tends to get confused.

Now, Jack... Can I call you that?

Why would I want to k*ll that dumpy dame?

I'm having too much fun throwing her off her game.

With Fredrick Burn's help.

Alright, I confess.

So, I've been paying Fred to rattle her chain.

You know what they say - all's fair in love and tennis.

Now, why don't I put on my bathing costume and you join me for a dip?

Perhaps some other time.

Oh, if you're going to disappoint me, Inspector, the least you can do is untie me.

See?

That wasn't so hard.

Poor Dot! You mustn't worry about that photograph. It will blow over.

I don't see how, Miss.

My mother said that Hugh's not the gentleman he pretends to be, and Hugh's mother told him that I've got no right to wear white at my wedding.

Oh, dear.

What if Father O'Leary sees it?

I just want to curl up and disappear.

No, Dot. This won't do. You must stand proud and laugh it off.

Can I do that in my room, with the door closed?

No - I insist that you come to my cocktail party and show the world you're above the fray.

It'll make you feel better, promise.

Dot?

Arggh! (Shudders)

Dot! DOT!

Ingenious, Miss Fisher.

So, the intended victim secured the area by trapping a spider under a... a what?

Just call it an internal device.

An internal...

Oh!

So, it seems Constance's would-be k*ller wants you dead too.

I'm trying not to take it personally.

Very least, to frighten you off.

(Gasps)

I know you'll find this unpalatable, Miss Fisher, but with Mr Burrows in the house...

Jack! Stanley is besotted with Constance.

They're conquering the tennis world together.

He's hardly likely to want to try and k*ll her - or me.

No, somebody came in through the open window.

Ah!

Look!

They tore a part of their clothing.

Is it white cotton, Miss? Could be tennis whites.

Terence Lawson is athletic enough to have made his way up here.

Fredrick Burn can wheedle his way into most places.

In either case, they could have been co-opted by Angela Lombard to try and frighten me off.

I doubt she needs anyone to hide behind, and I found her reading a very serious-looking document when I questioned her today.

She left this envelope behind.

'Blue Spruce Tennis Shoe Company. Urgent.'

Constable Collins and I may need to attend your party this afternoon to conduct a search.

Oh, Jack, you can't!

A police presence won't encourage people to donate pots of money.

I'll find the document, and you...

Er... Collins?

(Whistle blasts)

(Dance-band jazz plays on gramophone)

Mr Butler: Champagne cocktail?

Thank you, Mr B. Anything to report?

The press have arrived.

Burn: Ladies?

Lovely! Lovely!

I'll stand over there.

No hiding!

You are standing proud and laughing it off, remember?

Now, keep Angela busy for me.

Angela: I'll tell you what, I'm glad that g*dd*mn lug's divorcing me!

Oh, sure, I punched him once or twice, but he tried to make me give up my tennis!

Oh, wanted to chain me to the g*dd*mn sink!

Say, honey, didn't I see you in The Globe, making out with your fella?

(Laughter)

Er...

Good for you, kiddo. You're one racy dame!

(Laughter)

Cheers!

Oh, I spilled some champagne. How clumsy of me!

(Flash bulb pops)

Would you leave me alone?!

Miss Fisher.

(Cabin door opens)

What are you doing in here, all on your own?

Oh, I'm just... admiring the woodwork.

I wouldn't mind buying a steam yacht of my own some day.

You, er... sleeping over?

No. I don't own much. I like to keep it safe.

Something wrong?

Just admiring the cut of your jib.

(Laughs) Mind if I do the same?

Oooh, is this a private party?

I'm missing all the fun.

I might go and find myself a drink.

Say, did I mention that Jack and me had a swell talk this afternoon?

No, you didn't.

He sure knows how to unhook a gal's dress.

Must be those strong, manly fingers of his.

Well, it's so much better when he does it with his teeth.

I'm trying so hard, but I keep worrying that you'll sneak off with Lawson.

I haven't spoken to him all day. He means nothing to me.

I want to believe that, but it took such a long time for us to be intimate.

I told you, I just needed to focus.

You know how I am with my tennis, but now I'm back in form.

We both are.

I still can't help feeling you're only doing it under sufferance.

What do you want me to do to prove it to you, ravish you right here?

Alright, let's do it!

Constance, shh!

Miss Fisher! You won't believe what I just heard.

All in good time, Dot. Right now we have a new suspect on our hands.

But why would I want to k*ll Miss Fisher?

Because I was getting too close to the truth.

What truth? That I tried to k*ll Connie as well?

You people are stark, raving mad!

I loved her. I'd never hurt her.

I'd never hurt any woman.

Then how do you explain this?

I can't, unless someone set me up.

Whoever put that spider in your bedroom, they weren't trying to k*ll you.

What are you talking about? I could have ended up like Belinda!

No, you couldn't. it's a trapdoor spider.

Capable of giving a nasty bite, but not enough to k*ll.

So, it was more likely a practical joke.

Well, I fail to see the humour.

And the motive remains the same - to scare me off the case.

And to frame Terence Lawson at the same time.

Do you think you can get rid of that now?

It's important evidence, Miss Fisher.

So is this, but you're not seeing it until that disappears.

(Drawer closes)

That wasn't so difficult, now, was it?

An endorsement contract.

Potentially.

An agreement with the Blue Spruce Tennis Shoe Company of Utah, owned and operated by the Zollinger family, a most Mormon-sounding name.

If Angela wins all her matches in Australia, she'll be given a lucrative endorsement deal.

But if she loses even one, the deal is off.

That's quite a motive.

Needless to say, she didn't mention any of this when I interviewed her earlier.

Before or after you helped her out of her dress?

Just be careful Fredrick Burn doesn't catch you at it.

Oh, Phryne.

What happened with Terence Lawson? Was he charged?

It's all circumstantial, Stanley.

He was questioned and released, but we'll certainly be keeping an eye on him.

I better get this up to Constance.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Poor Stanley.

He's so devoted.

I hope Constance isn't toying with him.

Let's see if she's hiding any other evidence of Terence.

Take her handbag. I'll check through her coat.

Sorry!

Oh, dear!

Stanley hasn't become any neater, I see.

I don't think there's anything in here, Miss.

(Gasps)

Oh, no!

Alright, Belinda and I had a... an arrangement, but it only happened once.

Only once?

Really, Stanley?

Yes.

Belinda was a beautiful girl, and if you'll forgive me for saying, I know that your marital relations weren't perhaps what you would have hoped they would be.

Are you sure you didn't fall in love with Belinda?

That's ludicrous.

You were carrying round her photograph.

Yes, but that's got nothing to do with love. You must know that.

So, if we could please not mention this to Constance.

We'll be telling Mrs Burrows everything if we find out you tried to k*ll her so you could be with Belinda.

Phryne, surely you can't believe this.

Alright, Mr Burrows, you can go now.

Whatever his mores, I find it difficult to believe that Stanley would want Constance dead.

Unless he wanted Belinda dead.

Are you suggesting Belinda was the intended victim all along?

And we've been hoodwinked into thinking it was Constance.

You do know that would keep Stanley Burrows in the frame?

Well, if he's innocent, we'll prove it, and if he's a m*rder*r, he's no friend of mine.

Perhaps he k*lled Belinda to cover his shame.

Or maybe Constance found out, and k*lled her.

I'll re-examine Belinda's belongings and look into her associations.

Fredrick obviously knew her quite well.

Yes. Time for another chat with the charming Mr Burn.

He's far too slippery a customer, Jack.

I have a better idea.

How well did you know Belinda Roswell?

Can't recall. A little less clothing might jog my memory.

You heard my terms - one item per satisfactory answer.

Take it or leave it.

Alright, alright!

She was posing for me for about a year.

Why didn't you tell us this before?

The poor girl's dead.

It's not as though you needed to protect her reputation.

We had an agreement.

I was paying her to take sneaky pics of other players, especially Constance.

I thought Angela was paying you to do that.

Angela was paying me to rattle Constance, but Belinda could get a lot closer than me, so I gave her a cut.

Handy little arrangement too - until Belinda called it off.

Why did she call it off?

You made the rules.

Now, can you lean forward...

No.

Why did Belinda call off your arrangement?

She said she was being paid better money to do special favours for somebody else.

What special favours, and for whom?

I don't know, but the last time I saw her, she had to leave early.

She said she had a meeting with Constance about a private matter.

A private matter? Indeed!

Are we finished already? I haven't got all my sh*ts.

But I've got all the answers I came for, and now, as a special constable of the Victoria Police, I'm confiscating this film.

When you held this private meeting with Belinda, was Stanley the topic of conversation?

Yes, he was.

Were you angry because you'd found out they'd been intimate?

No!

Not exactly.

Constance, I suggest you tell me the truth now or things are going to look worse for you.

It's just... I don't want to make Stanley a laughing stock.

Why would he be a laughing stock?

The truth is... I asked Bel to seduce Stanley as a favour to me.

I know you'll judge me harshly, but I'd fallen behind in my tennis and I needed to get back on track!

I just didn't have room for... Stanley's needs.

But I felt dreadful for him, so... Bel helped.

Excuse me for saying, but it's an odd attitude for a newlywed.

If you didn't have time for Stanley, why marry him?

Because he's a good man and a good coach.

He understands me.

And Terence?

He was just a fling.

In any case, he's not wealthy enough to support my career.

But Stanley is.

At least you could afford to pay Belinda for her special favours.

What do you mean? I didn't pay her.

Mrs Burrows, the big day is here. I've got your...

Mrs Burrows? Are you alright?

Perfectly.

You're running a temperature.

No! It's just warm in here.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

I don't think you're well enough to play.

Of course I am.

I can't miss Miss Fisher's tournament.

Phryne. Good morning.

Constance.

Dot, I'm off to see the Inspector.

Excuse me. I should get ready.

Miss, I'm worried about her.

She's putting on a brave face, but I think she looks ill.

She's been feverish for days.

This tea she's been drinking seems to have made it worse.

Smells like sage.

Perhaps she's being poisoned.

Poisoned?

It's possible. She carries this brew around with her everywhere.

Someone might have slipped something into it. Let's ask Dr Mac to test it.

If Constance is being poisoned, perhaps she was the target all along.

The k*ller didn't succeed the first time and they're trying again.

If that's the case, why the payments to Belinda?

That was a red herring. Constance swears she didn't pay her.

Somebody did.

Two large amounts, above and beyond Fredrick's bribes, were deposited into Belinda's account in the last two weeks, in cash so they couldn't be traced.

Would you get off my desk, please?

Why?

Just remove yourself, Miss Fisher.

I'm quite comfortable, thank you.

Not fair, Jack.

I've just searched Mrs Burrows' bag. No eels or spiders.

Thank goodness.

Here's the lovebirds!

We going to cop another handful today, eh?

'Copper cops a handful' - how does that sound?

Hey!

Listen here, you vulture.

If you ever come near my fiancee again, I'll have you locked up so fast, you won't know what hit you, and I'll throw away the key.

You got it?

That's telling him, Hugh!

Perhaps there's something I missed in Belinda's things.

I really must get to the tennis.

Wait - what's this?

(Heavy rattling)

There's something in there.

Jack, there's a false bottom.

(Telephone rings)

City South Police.

Yes, Dr MacMillan?

Are you sure? Well, thank you for rushing that through.

(Receiver clunks)

No sign of poison in Constance's tea - another dead end.

Not necessarily.

A whole new avenue has just opened up. Look!

If ever I was in any doubt about their relationship...

They're numbered one to ten.

'11 - £50. 12 - £100.'

Those are the exact amounts deposited into Belinda's account.

So, Belinda was paid to hand over the last two photographs.

Which, judging from these, must have been extremely compromising.

Especially for someone trying to attract financial support from a conservative, religious tennis shoe company.

Angela: Alright, you got me.

I had to make sure my deal with those God-fearing fellas didn't bite the dust.

You k*lled Belinda to keep her quiet?

No!

I just paid the kid a lot of dough for the photo.

I want to see it.

Sure you do.

If that tennis comp was more exciting, we wouldn't have had to amuse ourselves that day.

Where's the other one?

What other one?

This is No.11. The 12th photo is missing too - where is it?

I thought there was only this one.

Excuse me, Miss Fisher, but we're about to start.

(Applause)

Miss Lombard to serve.

(Not behind your base line, Constance. Move forward!)

I can't believe that man's still walking around after what he tried to do to you.

(Spectators gasp and applaud)

Why would Angela lie about buying that 12th photo?

Unless she didn't buy it.

Someone paid Belinda £100 for it. Terence couldn't afford that.

I'm not sure we can put it down to modesty with Angela.

Every woman has her limits, Jack.

So, who else could have paid Belinda for that 12th sh*t?

Maybe the clue lies in No.11.

(Spectators exclaim and applaud)

Game. Miss Lombard leads by one set.

Refreshments will now be served on the south terrace.

Jack, is that Constance in the background?

Yes.

What's she doing?

Having some kind of trouble with her tennis dress?

Not her dress.

Of course - the champagne, the sage tea, her sudden disappearance from the tennis circuit.

It all makes perfect sense.

Ladies and gentlemen, please resume your seats...

Mrs Burrows, I suggest you forfeit the match due to injury.

What? But I told Miss Williams, it's only a cold.

But it's not a cold, is it, Constance?

And you lied to us about paying Belinda.

You paid her a great deal of money and it wasn't for any favours.

We're giving you a choice - forfeit now, or we'll arrest you for the m*rder of Belinda Roswell in front of everyone here.

Resume play, please, ladies.

Ladies, resume play.

It's your choice, Constance.

Mrs Burrows to serve.

Alright.

Arggh!

Oh, Mrs Burrows?

Connie, what is it?

Hey, what's the hold-up, honey?

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid to say that Mrs Constance Burrows has injured her ankle and has to forfeit the match.

Please join me in congratulating our winner, Mrs Angela Lombard.

(Applause)

Phryne, you've made a mistake.

If anyone's responsible, it had to be Lawson.

Why else would he plant that spider to scare you off?

What's that on your arm, Stanley?

What?

Looks like a spider bite.

It was you who tried to scare me off and frame Terence Lawson.

I was just trying to protect Constance.

When did you realise she k*lled Belinda?

I was jealous, so I was searching through her things.

That's when I found the jar she must have kept it in.

You never said a word. I thought I could save you.

Constance Burrows, as a special constable of the Victorian Police Force, I am arresting you for the m*rder of Belinda Roswell.

What's going on here?

(Cheering and applause)

The photograph made me reflect on the stain on the bodice of your dress and the champagne you supposedly spilled, and the fever you've been combatting with sage tea - a remedy for threatening mastitis.

You've given birth, haven't you, Constance? And quite recently too.

Birth?

Why would a woman who's obsessed with tennis take time off the game, or a newlywed arrange for her husband to be seduced by another woman?

This baby, does that mean...

Yes, Terence, it was yours.

Where's the baby now?

Taken care of.

I paid for a good home. She's fine.

Jack: But Belinda had a photograph of you with the baby, didn't she, Mrs Burrows?

And she was using it to blackmail you.

I paid her £100 for it.

She promised that would be the end of it, but I got scared - what if she had another copy?

What if everyone found out, and I couldn't go to the US Championships?

I want to b*at Angela on her home turf!

So Belinda had to go.

You sabotaged her shoe so she'd have to use yours.

Terence: So, you k*lled Belinda because she knew about our baby, and then you gave the baby up without even telling me?!

How could I tell you?

You'd want me to keep it and get married and settle down.

I didn't want any of that!

But we were in love!

I loved playing tennis with you! You used to be good.

How could tennis matter this much?

Because tennis is everything!

It's the only thing that ever mattered, the only thing I love, and if I hadn't been so stupid and wound up pregnant, I could have been champion of the world!

Jack: We'll need to speak to you, Mr Burrows, in regards to withholding information.

Forgive me, Phryne.

Love made a fool out of you, Stanley.

Jack.

Miss Lombard.

Is it true - Constance k*lled that poor kid for her career?

I'm afraid so.

Oh, gee! I thought I played hard.

If you ever get tired of Miss Fisher and wanna play ball with me, I'll give you the best game you've ever had.

I think we both know that's a challenge I won't be accepting.

Goodbye, Miss Lombard.

(Jack laughs) Oh!

Oh!

(Phryne laughs)

♪ KING OLIVER: When You're Smiling I aced you, Miss Fisher.

You just caught me off-guard.

You're actually quite good, you know.

Thank you.

I learned at the police academy.

Speaking of which, there's a certain lack of attention to detail in your arrest paperwork, so I'm retiring you as my special constable.

I see.

I suppose you'll be wanting your badge back, then.

Well... no.

No, I think you've earned the badge.

Game, set, and m*rder... m*rder solved.

Phryne: A crazed fugitive is on the loose and your life is in danger.

Not last-minute doubts in the faith?

No, no, no, Father. Police business.

I'm not sure I want to be married by a man who punches scientists.

If this is the work of our escapee, Mr Toad has something in common with my father.

I'm your father, not a criminal!

Give me the letter!

Phryne: What is your area of study?

Measuring the spectra of light between different celestial bodies.

More like a romantic overture.