02x05 - Dressed to k*ll

[bunniefuu]

(FAST-PACED JAZZ MUSIC)

- (MAN): Look, there's the car!
- (WOMAN): There she is!

(MAN): Here she comes!

(WOMAN): Oh, she's so beautiful!

I can't believe it's really her!

(FRENCH ACCENT): I'll admit
I'm pleasantly surprised.

(ENGLISH ACCENT): As am I.
What a turnout!

(FRENCH ACCENT): Did you
expect anything less?

Like I always say,
style knows no boundaries.

Still, it's nice to be reminded
how much I'm adored.

- Indeed.
- Mademoiselle.

(MAN): Coco! Over here!

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

Coco! Over here!

- (g*nsh*t)
- (MAN): Get down! Get down!

(SCREAMING)

- Are you all right?!
- Mon dieu, Edmund!

Phillippe, dépêche-toi!

What do you mean
you still have no lead?!

If this was Paris, the Garde
would already have caught

the madman who dared
to sh**t at Coco Chanel.

I cannot waste another second.

I've got a fashion show
to prepare for!

Um, excuse me?

- Uh...
- Oui?

Um... Miss Chanel.

I beg your pardon.

Um, I couldn't help

but overhear your squabble
just now, and...

I was wondering that if
by any chance, uh,

you might be interested
in an alternative means

of investigation...

I might know someone who can help you.

Go on.

"A b*llet was some greeting
for France's famed designer.

"The entire fashion world
is on tenterhooks.

What will be next?"

Well, leave it to Lipstick
to sensationalize the story.

Perhaps now you understand
my predicament?

I do, but...

a high profile figure like yourself?

I would have thought
the coppers would be

- all over this...
- I'll be six feet under

before your "coppers"
find this madman.

I take it they're not
making much progress.

Zero. Perhaps if they
loosened their belts,

more oxygen would reach their brains.

I fear some would need
to lose their pants entirely

before we saw any improvement.

I have no confidence in them.

So, will you take the case?

Of course.

Merci.

Just one question.

Why do you have more confidence in me?

If there's one thing
I've learned over the years,

Miss Drake, it's that I can

always trust a woman in pants.

So, you came to Toronto
at Mr. Eaton's request?

Precisely, to put on a fashion
show of my latest line:

a collection of petites robes,

little dresses for all purposes

that every modern woman should own.

They're beautiful.

Do they breed enemies?

One doesn't become
queen of Paris couture

without amassing a few enemies.

Even in Toronto?

Fashion travels the world, Miss Drake.

Fair enough. Now, before the sh**ting,

did you notice anything unusual?

Only a crowd of adoring fans.

Not all adoring, I'm afraid.

In the photograph in the paper,
you were being escorted

out of the car by two gentlemen.

I'd like to talk to them, if possible.

If you think it will help.

Phillippe LeDuc, Frankie Drake.

Notre propre détective privée.

- Enchanté.
- Oh!

You are Coco's...

Business associate.

Phillippe was a procurement
officer in the French army.

He sources fabrics for me
of the highest quality.

He has excellent taste.

Coco's key to success
is the quality of her designs,

not her fabrics. Edmund Robinson.

My generous supporter
and other w*r hero.

rd Division.
Of course, we all served

our country in the Great w*r.

Some, however, were leaders of men.

Come now, gentleman.
Miss Drake is here

to investigate the sh**ting.

Did either of you
notice anything unusual?

Unfortunately, I was too busy
trying to avoid a b*llet.

I was completely focused
on getting Coco to safety.

I don't understand.

How will talking to Edmund
and Phillippe help you

- find this madman?
- Well, you do your job,

and I'll do mine.

Excellent idea.

I'll start by looking
at the scene of the sh**ting,

but I'd like to plant someone in here

to keep an eye on things.

And who might that be?

I have just the person.

(FAST-PACED MUSIC)

This is so exciting!

I finally get to see
you work a case first-hand!

Just don't let it get out, Dot.

How long have we been friends?

You know I'm a vault.

One question though...

where do you keep your g*n?

SH! (GIGGLING)

So, who are these seamstresses?

Any of them arrive here
from Paris with Coco?

Oh, no. Everyone here
works for Mr. Eaton.

Coco's line was mostly finished
when we arrived.

We're all here on hand

for mostly alterations and fittings.

Who's the new girl?

Um, Ruth, this is my...

Apprentice. Trudy.

She'll be assisting with the show.

I'm very excited to be here!

Someone dressed for the occasion.

How very voguish
for a lowly seamstress.

Oh, this! Well, it's a Dot original.

She's made my dresses for years.

She's got a great talent.

You don't say. Well, now.

Best get back to work.

Why don't I help you get you started?

It's a tad grainy,
but based on this photograph,

when the sh*t was fired,

Coco was standing right about here.

Actually, I would say
it would be more like... here.

And what makes you think
Coco was standing here?

It would have to be.

Let's look around.

Right. Right. Because of the
proximity of that lamp post.

I don't know how I missed that!

Looks like the b*llet landed here,

which means that the sh*t

would have been fired

from the fifth or sixth floor
of that building.

Are you sure?
The police seem fairly certain

that the sh**t was on the roof.

Well... agree to disagree.

Uh, yeah.

Oh, watch out!

I'll admit I pictured it differently.

Are all fashion show
preparations this intense?

You're confusing intensity with fear.

- Oh?
- Since you're working for her,

you should probably know

Coco doesn't handle
disappointment very well.

- Or at all.
- Wow.

It's positively sinful!

Do you know the models have all
been instructed to wear these?!

If you ask me, she's trying
to turn women into boys!

You're living
in a different era, Ruth.

I simply think a woman should
design for a woman's body.

You know, I don't exactly disagree.

There's something undeniably feminine

- about the Victorian silhouette.
- I couldn't agree more.

Perhaps we have more
in common than I thought.

Wow. That's commitment to the cause.

Someone has to take a stand
before things get too dire.

Besides, what's so awful
about a good solid corset?

- Oh! Pardon me, miss.
- Excuse me! So sorry.

You know, it's awfully nervy

coming into a bustling building
during prime business hours

and f*ring a r*fle.

(SOFT MUSIC)

So you think the sh**t
holed himself up in here?

It's a possibility.

Mary, take a look at this.

All I see is this little groove...

It's the perfect spot
to brace the barrel of a r*fle.

Now, we just need to find the casing.

So, are you saying the sh**t

was positioned like this?

More like...

Right, because of that sign post.

That's a pretty steep incline,

- which means...
- Uh! Uh!

Do you think you should be doing that?

Probably not.

Ah!

Bingo.

The shell casing!

Mary... look at that.

Hey, what do you know about Ruth?

I've known her for years.

I'll admit she's a bit
of a curmudgeon.

I noticed.

Didn't start out that way.

How so?

She was a corset maker.

One of the best in the city.

Even had one of her own shops.

- Really?
- Mm-hmm!

Well, it's because she can pass.

Oh...

Then, overnight, she became obsolete,

even lost her shop, all because
of a peasant girl from Paris.

So, Chanel loosened the waistline

- and put Ruth out of business.
- And now, she's sewing hems

for Coco Chanel. Just imagine.

- Well, why do it?
- Girl's gotta make a living.

Haven't you ever worked
for somebody you didn't like?

Never long enough to let it fester.

You let something stew long enough,

something's bound to boil over.

- You're not saying that Ruth...
- I'm not saying anything.

It seems this board
has been pried up before.

Look at the space down there.

It's just right.

Perfect fit for a r*fle.

So after the sh**ting,
they stashed the r*fle in here.

- Why?
- So they could

walk out of here clean.

But the r*fle's gone now.

Right. They came back to pick it up

once the heat d*ed down.

Oh...

What kind of flower delivery
guy delivers flowers

and keeps the box?

Frankie!

(FAST-PACED MUSIC)

Damn it!

He strolled right out
of here with the r*fle

in that flower box, didn't he?

Did you get a good look at him?

- I got a look at him.
- OK. Well, chances are someone

like that has had
a brush with the law before.

So, maybe you'll find
his face in the mug book.

OK. I'll take a look.

I'm gonna check in with Trudy.

Did you see this?

What?

"More Coco Controversy:

"Toronto coppers deemed inadequate.

Fashion designer hires PI."

These Lipstick articles aren't
getting any local fans.

- Mary and I saw the gunman.
- Really?

He used a Lee-Enfield r*fle.
One of the most common Allied

weapons used during the w*r.

Doesn't really narrow
things down. Anything else?

He posed as a flower delivery man.

Sounds like a professional.

So, who's the client?

Well, it could be anyone.

Her own seamstresses seem
to fear her at best.

- And at worst?
- Well, one of them, Ruth,

she disapproves of just about
everything Coco represents.

Enough to want her dead?

- I wouldn't rule her out.
- (SCREAMING)

(FAST-PACED MUSIC)

Seigneur...

Mes créations! (GASPING)

Ah!

♪

For God's sake, read the tea leaves!

Il a raison, Coco.
It's time to go back to Paris!

Ça suffit!

It takes more than a badly-aimed
b*llet and a few flames

to stop Coco Chanel!

Whether it takes all day and all night

to make new dresses...

the fashion show will go on!

Coco, do you not...

Whoever tried to k*ll Coco

seems bent on ruining her.

And had access to the atelier.

Someone from her inner circle.

Did you see anyone in here alone?

Ruth and Dot were the last
to leave before lunch,

apart from Edmund and Phillippe.

Everything is destroyed!

You will never finish in time.

Faster! Faster!

You keep an eye on Dot and Ruth.

I'm gonna look into Coco's
supposed business associates.

There's something else going on there.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Is it too unreasonable
to expect that a garment

bearing the Chanel name
be crafted professionally?

Throw that away and start over.

She's merciless.

Coco has exacting standards.

She specifically requested
identical stitches per inch.

See?

It's hard to believe
you do that by hand.

It's perfect.

Perfection is a Coco requirement.

Haven't you ever thought
about getting your own line

into stores? Mr. Eaton
might even help you out.

I didn't just think about it,
I actually approached Mr. Eaton.

- You did?
- I told him I wanted to design

elegant dresses for regular gals

who couldn't afford haute couture.

Mr. Eaton said it was
a terrific idea. But then...

- What?
- The deal fell through.

- Just like that?
- It wasn't meant to be.

Well, if you ask me,

Mr. Eaton doesn't know
what he's missing out on.

♪

(PHONE RINGING)

Yes, Sergeant?

OK. OK, wait. I'll be right there.

Here we go!

(PHONE RINGING)
(GASPING)

Yes, Sergeant?

Fine.

C'est affreux.

None of these. Only white!

I want the stage bathed in white silk.

How will my dresses stand out

if the audience can
barely distinguish them

from the busy stage dressing?

Simplicité est la clé de I'élégance.

Moins c'est mieux.

You speak French.

I spent a little time in Paris.

I made some very good friends.

I have a feeling you and I

are cut from the same clothing.

I think you mean cloth.

Peu importe.

I admire a woman who can pave
the way for her own destiny.

Well, we have to make our own way.

Of course, even a self-made woman

could use a little assistance
from time to time.

I've noticed that Phillippe and Edmund

are very attentive associates.

Very.

What led to their interest
in haute couture?

They are businessmen.

They understand the benefits
of a good investment.

You're sleeping
with both of them, aren't you?

But of course.

Well, that is an important detail

that you failed to mention.

Is it of any consequence?

Well, in my experience,
love triangles breed jealousy.

And jealousy can be very dangerous.

I think you misunderstand
the nature of this triangle.

Do I?

Oh, the arrangement's quite simple.

When I met Coco,
she was still Gabrielle Chanel,

and soon after,
I invited her to live with me.

It was my good friend Edmund
who introduced me to Coco.

Not to boast,
but a great deal of her success

is in fact owed to me.

Edmund was very generous,

but nobody recognized her
genius the way I did.

What is genius, after all,
without the funds to nurture it?

More than any money,
Coco needed someone

- to believe in her.
- What Coco needed was freedom

to let her creative
contemplations run wild.

My château proved the ideal location.

The château started to feel a tad...

restrictive for Coco.

She's no prisoner.
Coco does as Coco pleases.

After all, the only thing I want...

The only thing I've ever wanted...

(BOTH): Is for Coco to be happy.

Of course Edmund and Phillippe
make me happy,

but they have little to do
with my professional success.

That's interesting. They told
a very different story.

You know men,
they can't help themselves.

They take credit
for absolutely everything.

I would tell a different story.

- And what would that be?
- After my mother d*ed,

my dear aunts
took me under their wings.

It was they who taught me
the art of sewing.

But I thought you were raised by nuns.

Why would you think that?

After I took the case,
I did some research on you.

Is that so?

Your mother d*ed
when you were years old.

Your father placed you
in an orphanage in Aubazine.

You were raised by the sisters

of the Congregation of the
Sacred Heart of Mary.

That's far too sad.

I prefer my version of the story.

Your aunts taught you to sew.

But I took it from there.

My success rests on
the strength of my imagination.

And what about Edmund and Phillippe?

Mere passengers on my journey.

Nobody but myself paved the way
for Coco Chanel.

But the men amuse me greatly,

so I am happy for them
to come along for the ride.

You should have heard them!
Their pretense was spectacular.

Hard to believe they run the
most successful fashion house

in the world and still have
the energy for affairs.

I don't think
they view it as an affair.

So it's basically
one big happy threesome?

- That's what they're saying.
- But?

I don't buy it.
Someone in Coco's inner circle

is out to get her.
We need to find a way in.

- (DOOR CLOSING)
- Listen to this!

"Coco's Dresses as Inflammatory
as her Conduct.

"For all her haughtiness,
Coco is still the one

getting justifiably b*rned."

Boy, these Lipstick articles
have not been kind to Coco.

It's a compelling read, though.

I quite like the fire motif
in this one.

That's fair. She does
have a way with words.

And gossip. These dresses were
only b*rned a few hours ago.

Oh, Lipstick gets around.

Gossip finds a way
of reaching her quickly.

Too quickly. Somebody on the
inside is tipping Lipstick off.

- To what end?
- Well, they've taken a sh*t

at Coco; they've b*rned
her dresses and now,

they're planting malicious gossip.

You know what it is, gals?

It's character assassination

on top of a real
assassination attempt!

So, Flo...

how does one reach Lipstick?

Oh! You see, Frankie,
she's got this box.

(CHUCKLING)

(RHYTHMIC MUSIC)

Drake.

Detective Greyson.
To what do I owe the pleasure?

Are you behind this?

- What are you talking about?
- Hmm.

"Apparently, Coco doesn't think
that Toronto's police force

is up to snuff." It goes on at length.

And then...

"Is Miss Drake making progress

where our inadequate
coppers fell short?"

That's quite a way of drumming
up business, isn't it?

Are you suggesting that,
on top of to solving cases

for my clients, I'm also
ghostwriting a gossip column?

No, that would be hard to believe.

But you could be passing her tips.

Well, if that's what you really think,

perhaps there's some truth
to what Lipstick said

about "our inadequate coppers".

- Cute.
- I don't know who Lipstick is

any more than you do.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have work to do.

Yeah, I bet you do.

(STREETCAR BELL RINGING)

(ENIGMATIC MUSIC)

♪

- (BOTH GASPING)
- Nora?!

- Frankie?
- I should have known.

Why are you always popping up
where no one wants you?

- You're Lipstick?
- Sh!

A little discretion for
your mother, if you don't mind.

Listen, I got a hot tip

on a high profile
clandestine rendezvous

that's about to go down
and I want to make sure

I capture every juicy detail...

Wait a minute.

There is no clandestine
rendezvous, is there?

Not unless you count this as one.

I knew it was too good to be true.

All right. Congratulations,
you've lured me here.

- What do you want?
- Well, you wrote about me

in your last two articles.
And not particularly kindly,

- I might add.
- What? Oh.

Blame your father for that.

He should've taught you
to have thicker skin.

Well, I guess he was busy
being a single parent!

He wasn't a saint!
He was a grifter, like me.

Really? Is this why you
tricked me into coming here?

Who's feeding you
the dirt on Coco Chanel?

A journalist never
reveals her sources.

Good thing you're not a journalist.

- You're a gossip columnist.
- That is elitist!

I'm giving the people what they want.

By the way, is Coco really
as tyrannical as she seems?

Shouldn't you already
know the answer to that

before writing these damning
articles about her?

Frankie, why be
such a stick in the mud?

Nobody likes this.
Nobody takes my stuff seriously.

- It's a bunch of tittle-tattle.
- Somebody has it out

for Coco and I think it's your source.

I so wish I could help.

- Fine.
- Fine.

I thought you would
want in on the action.

I'm getting my notes
from a seamstress.

So, it's one of the
seamstresses who has been

feeding Lipstick the dirt.

Then it's Ruth. It has to be.

Some tips that were
left in her drop box.

What is it?

This handwriting...

- I recognize it.
- You do?

It's Dot's.

Don't be ridiculous.
I do not have the time

nor the energy to be
spreading petty gossip.

Are you sure?

Maybe you wanted to knock her
down a few pegs?

That's preposterous.

I've known you long enough to
know your own handwriting, Dot.

What's going on, Dot?

(SIGHING)

That magazine makes her out to
be some kind of grand saviour.

The fashion world's Joan of Arc!

So, you wanted everyone
to know the real Coco.

You fed Lipstick the inside scoop.

But why? What's in it for you?

Does it have something
to do with your clothing line

- pitched with Mr. Eaton?
- Of course not.

Dot...

I had a line of ready-to-wear
dresses all set to go.

Mr. Eaton was gonna
co-sign a loan for me.

But nothing happened.

You blame Coco?

Negotiations mysteriously
fell through the moment

she showed up.
That woman came from nothing.

You'd think she'd sympathize
with the little people.

And what about the sh**ting? The fire?

You think I had
something to do with that?

Well, you were one
of the last people in here

before the fire started.

And you could have
just as easily hired

the sh**t as anyone else.

You know me, Trudy.

You know I'm a God-fearing woman.

Frankly, I'm offended
by the accusation.

If you'll excuse me.

(SIGHING)

I don't know, Frankie.

It doesn't make sense.

Dot's line is ready-to-wear

and Coco's haute couture.

Technically, they're not
in any competition.

So why would Coco
have her line cancelled?

I have no idea
what you're talking about.

Dot is convinced that you sabotaged

her deal with Mr. Eaton.

Respectfully, why would I care?

Well, that is a good question.

For what it's worth, I believe you.

Look, I have to consider
all possibilities.

- It's my job!
- And this is my job,

which I'm not doing particularly well.

Look at this mess!

Coco will have my head.

Not if she never knows about it.

I'll dispose of the evidence.

(ENIGMATIC MUSIC)

Gently! That chiffon is pure silk!

(SIGHING)

I have barely even
spoken to Mr. Eaton.

That's Phillippe's job.

If anyone cancelled anything,
it was him.

Non! Non! Non, non, non,
non, non! C'est pas vrai!

Frankie. You might want to see this.

(FRANKIE): So, this is what's
left of Coco's burnt dresses?

What's left of something, anyway.

The rule to Coco's dresses

is identical stitches per inch.

But look at this.

It looks pretty close to me.

I've seen this woman in action.

"Pretty close" doesn't cut it.

I don't think
these are Coco's dresses.

I think they're imitations.

OK. Why don't you take
these swatches to Flo,

see if she can confirm
that they're fake.

OK.

What did she find?

If something's going on in my atelier,

I demand to know about it!

There's nothing to report.
At least not yet.

Then why was your partner
rushing out so quickly?

Well, she's following up on a lead,

but as soon as we have
anything concrete,

you will be the first to know.

I hate feeling like this.

I get it.

You're used to being in control.

This is unsettling.

It's not just the loss
of control, Frankie.

Would it shock you terribly
to hear me say...

I'm a little bit afraid?

It would shock me more to hear
if you weren't.

Everybody thinks I'm fearless,

but don't be fooled.

Fear can easily be disguised.

All it takes is a pretty dress
and a simple hat.

Perhaps it doesn't
always need to be disguised.

Never show weakness.

It's always been
my survival technique.

And are you starting
to question its effectiveness?

Possibly.

I'm gonna get
to the bottom of this, Coco.

You have my word.

I expect no less.

(FLO): Yep, there's no doubt about it.

I'm definitely seeing
both flat twisted ribbons

and scaly corkscrew patterns
on this swatch.

It's a blended fabric.

Did the dress flare up quickly?

Well, one minute, it's hanging neatly,

and then the next,
the entire row went ablaze.

As I suspected.

It's a wool-cotton blend.

Wool burns slowly, but it's
quite difficult to ignite.

So, if there were real flames,
it was from the cotton.

OK. Well, one thing's for sure,

Coco Chanel's real dresses were
not made of blended fabric.

She's a % wool jersey type of lady.

That's a type now?

Mm-hmm.

So, why would someone
burn fake dresses

and steal Coco's originals?

To sell them?

That seems like an awful lot
of trouble to go to for whatever

a handful of dresses might be worth.

Yeah, well, there's
a real market for high fashion

at low prices...

So, someone stole them
to copy the pattern

to make cheap Chanel knock-offs?

Well, I know a lot of gals who
would k*ll for a Chanel dress,

- even if it was a knock-off.
- Wouldn't those dresses fall

- in the ready-to-wear category?
- Yeah. Dot's line would have

stood in direct competition to that.

So, maybe Phillippe had it cancelled

to knock-off Coco's dresses

so he could sell them to Eaton's.

It's a theory.

But how do we prove it?

I have an idea.

Gin.

Cheater. You're a cheater.

(SCOFFING)

The poor sap bought into
the story hook, line and sinker,

contacted "Ambrosia" for a meeting

almost as soon as the paper
hit the stands.

I will admit
this Lipstick gig of yours

is proving useful.

What, your mother's
good for something after all?

- Don't let it go to your head.
- With you around,

how could I possibly? All right.

I'm going in. It's show time!

Nora. About your accent...

- What?
- Moins c'est mieux.

- No comprendo.
- Less is more.

Oh, aren't you the expert.

Thanks for the tip, Gloria Swanson.

Thank you, Sergeant.

Come with me.
There's something that I would

like your opinion on.
It happened last week,

a little perplexing to me.

(TENSE MUSIC)

Oh, Detective Greyson.
What are you doing here?

That's my desk.
What are you doing here?

Well, I just received
a rather troubling call

from one of my fellow
morality officers.

- Really?
- How troubling, you might ask?

- You're gonna tell me.
- Well, it seems that she was

approaching a rather
questionable individual

when the reprobate
ran off at full speed!

- So, are you saying to me...
- That someone who runs

from a morality officer is
someone with something to hide?

Well, yes, that's exactly
what I'm saying.

- Officer Shaw...
- So, I offered to see

if I could match
her visual description

with one of our mug sh*t photos.

- That book is reserved for...
- Because I, for one, will not

stand to see one of my sisters
so callously disrespected!

- (SIGHING)
- Take the book.

Just make sure that it
lands back on my desk.

Thank you for agreeing
to meet with me, Madame Rose.

Please, call me Ambrosia.

May I?

Ah, oui!

This prohibition business is
absolutely barbaric.

I couldn't agree more.

When I read about you in this paper,

I was struck. Your ideas
about the future of fashion

- were spot on.
- Well, I stand by every word!

In the old days, only the elite
were worried about fashion,

but times are changing!

- It's no different in Paris.
- Yeah! All these new women,

they want to dress like Coco Chanel,

but without breaking the bank,
and who can blame them?

Yes. It is a time for a change
in the world of fashion.

Oh, I couldn't agree more, Phillippe.

There's a wave coming,
and I intend to catch it.

In fact, two designers have just
requested meetings with me

after being equally
"struck" by my words.

- Is that so?
- Yeah, a couple of Montrealers.

I mean, I was hoping
to keep the trip brief,

but it might just be worth the detour.

Unless...

Unless?

Meet me at o'clock tomorrow morning.

Au revoir, monsieur.

Mademoiselle.

Like taking candy from a baby.

Didn't bat an eye at my accent either.

He wants to show us some merchandise

- first thing in the morning.
- I'm not waiting 'til morning.

Hey, wait! You owe me!
These performances don't

come cheap. You know, I'm exhausted.

(SIGHING)

♪

(SIGHING)

Ready? Go.

(DOOR UNLOCKING)

- Five and half seconds!
- Still got it.

(CHUCKLING)

(TENSE MUSIC)

- (EXHALING HEAVILY)
- This look familiar?

Almost as familiar as these.

These are Coco's originals.

It's unmistakable. You were right.

So, Phillippe was on to something.

I mean, these knockoffs

are practically identical
to the originals.

The devil's in the details.

What are you doing?

I owe someone a payment.

A finder's fee for Ambrosia Rose.

So, Phillippe stole Coco's
patterns to create a line

of knock-offs. Doesn't he know

what that would do to her?

Strange way to treat your lover.

Even more strange to try and k*ll her.

Phillippe? I don't understand.
He loves me.

Well, love can make people
do crazy things.

Frankie... I've looked everywhere.

- Phillippe's gone.
- Le salaud!

I'll deal with Phillippe later.

I've got a fashion show
to prepare for!

With my original dresses,
thanks to you.

That is a bad idea.

Coco!

Bad idea or not, it's happening!

Will it never end?

"Leave town. Final warning."

Are you sure
about going on with the show?

I never caved to pressure before,

and I'm not about to start now.

- (SIGHING)
- Well, there's only one way

that I'm letting you
go out onto that stage.

Stop twitching.
I need to take the shoulders in.

Keep your eyes peeled
for Phillippe or the sh**t.

The flower delivery man
was tall, lanky.

He had mousy-brown hair.

Your posture, Frankie,
is absolutely abysmal!

Pour I'amour de Dieu,

have some self-respect.

Shoulders back! Chin up!

- OW!
- Oh, uh, sorry.

Are you sure this is a good idea?

If anything happens to Coco,

- I'll be right there.
- Raise that hemline!

It's not a parade of nuns!

Why do I have
a bad feeling about this?

No. Hmm... no.

No.

Hmm...

You still at it, Shaw?

- Oh.
- I have to say

that I admire your dedication.

Thank you.

We can't have anyone getting away

with any morally questionable
pursuits, can we?

No, sir, we cannot.

No, we cannot.

What do you say, boys?

Who's up for a quick trip
to Chinatown? I'm parched!

(MAN): Come on, let's go.

See you tomorrow.

Hmm... no.

Hello, Mr. Flower Delivery Man.

♪

♪

The moment you step
onto that stage, Frankie,

you're in my world.

No, I understand, but there's still...

The hair. Tame it.

Never forget, you're modelling
an original Chanel.

♪

♪

(APPLAUSE)

(FAST-PACED MUSIC)

(MAN): Marvellous!

(EXCLAMATIONS OF APPROVAL)

(GASPING)

(SCREAMING)

Are you OK?

- It's just paint.
- What?!

We have to get Coco out of here!

Jersey! A flexible
and unrestrictive fabric

for modern women on the move...

Could it have been Ruth all along?

You don't follow up
a b*llet with paint.

Frankie! Oh...

There you are! I've...

Oh. Oh, Coco, you really have done

some revolutionary things
with fashion.

Mary, you were saying.

Uh, our flower man!

Unsurprisingly, he does
have several misdemeanors

on his record.
His name is Silas Baker.

He came here from England
after the w*r,

where he served in the rd Division

which I thought was interesting
because my lucky number

- is ...
- Wait. rd? Are you sure?

Yes, I'm sure I'm sure.

The rd Division was Edmund's.

Edmund hired the sh**t!

Where is Edmund?

Where's Coco?

- Go!
- Well, go!

(EDMUND): He pulled a g*n on me first!

- I was simply defending myself!
- Like I've been defending

myself against your little
mind games for years!

Have you gone crazy?

Gentlemen. I'm sure we can
resolve this without g*ns.

A little late for that,
wouldn't you say?

Coco... time to choose.

Please, Edmund!

Phillippe, fait quelque chose!

Il a raison. It's enough!

Look, you're both angry,
but this isn't what you want.

Stay out of this!

Phillippe, you thought
Coco was gonna leave you,

so you stole her dresses
to try and ruin her.

Non! Not Coco!

It was Edmund's investment
I was trying to ruin!

So it was you? You bastard!

Edmund, you hired Silas Baker

to take a sh*t at Coco.

That b*llet was never meant for Coco!

It was intended for Phillippe!

Well, take your sh*t! I dare you!

- Stop it!
- You two have been

after each other this whole time.

We were all having so much
fun! Why has it come to this?

Like I told you,

jealousy can be dangerous.

But you said yourselves, all you want

is to make Coco happy.

And for that,
it seems she needs both of you.

For now, perhaps. But how much longer?

Your insecurities are
complicating something

so simple. You don't see
that the only person

you're hurting is the one person

you both claim to love...

Coco.

(WHISPERING): You take Edmund.

What have I become?

Coco, everything I did,

I did to win your affection.

What do you want to do
with the two of them?

Keep them both.

Coco Chanel has work to do.

Is it coming out at all?

Believe me, you're making it worse.

That dress is the real victim
in all of this.

Thanks to you, Frankie,

I've made a life-changing decision.

And what's that?

I never again want
to weigh more heavily on a man

- than a bird.
- Miss Chanel,

I have to come clean.

I was the one feeding Lipstick
all that filthy gossip.

I'm so ashamed.

So, it was you?

Best free publicity I've had in years.

How can I possibly thank you?

Oh! Well, how about you talk

to Mr. Eaton regarding
Dot's line of dresses?

I'm wearing one of hers right now.

The waistband is half an inch too high

but I suppose that's a simple fix.

Consider my word put in.

- Really? I couldn't possibly...
- Let's go, Dot,

before you say
something you'll regret.

(DOT AND TRUDY GIGGLING)

I'm afraid you're gonna go
back to Paris one dress short.

I tried to save it,
but it looks like I've turned

your little dress
into a little black dress.

I'm afraid it's ruined.

Au contraire.

You've given me quite a fabulous idea.

À bientôt, Frankie Drake.

All right, Frankie, you've
kept us in the dark long enough.

What are you talking about?

Spill the beans. Who's Lipstick?

Didn't I tell you? She didn't show up.

"She didn't show up"?

At least, I didn't see her.

Really? Boy, she is good.

Hey, Nora. Going someplace nice?

Just thought I'd pop by, say hello.

Wow, you sure dress nice

for a cup of hooch
and a bowl of chop suey.

What, this little thing?
No, you're right,

it's a one of a kind!

A Coco Chanel original, practically.

OK, well, careful with the soy sauce!

Hello, ladies.

(FLO): Hi...

- So, a double.
- Nora, that dress!

You look stunning!

Looks familiar.

Thank you, Mary. I feel stunning!

I mean, it's so elegant
and it really suits you!

It's much more understated
than what you normally wear.

- (FLO GIGGLING)
- Thank you, dear.

Tell me something, Frankie.
If you couldn't find Lipstick,

how did you get her to write
that column about Ambrosia Rose?

I put a request in her tip box.

Oh, is that how you do it?

That's the only way to reach Lipstick.

Right, of course.

Silly me.

Nora, what do you
think about Lipstick?

Me? Oh, well. I mean,

I only just skim the column,

but, uh... I understand she's
something of a living legend.

- Really?
- A savant, you might say.

- Savant?
- I really get a kick

out of Lipstick,
but "savant" is a bit much.

It's mostly just silly gossip.

Oh, well, isn't everyone a critic.

But I think if she brings
a glimmer of joy

into her readers' lives,
then Lipstick is performing

- a civic duty.
- It's admittedly a bit

of guilty pleasure for me
and the gals on the squad.

- Oh, yeah?
- And the fact that

her identity's a mystery,
that's the juiciest part!

Oh, I wonder who she could be.

- Gee, I wonder...
- Guess we'll never know.

♪