02x05 - Crossing the Line

[bunniefuu]

(Music plays softly)

MAN 1: Excuse me.

(Hushed conversations)

MAN 2: Thanks.

CUSTOMER: Two tickets, please.
SELLER: Two tickets.

Hello. Just for one please.
Two and six, thank you.

Thank you.
Next, please.

(Laughter, hushed conversations)

Give us a box of matches, Bell.

Mrs Beazley?
Oh! Hello, Amelia.

Patrick.
Hello.

Congratulations, by the way.
Thank you.

Where is your fiance?
Oh, he's just running late.

BELLA: Amelia!
Excuse me. Bell.

You OK?
Good to see you. How are you?

Cigarettes! Popcorn! Anyone?

Cigarettes!
RICHARD: Uh, Miss?

Just some mints, thanks.

(Low conversations)

Ooh! Oh!

Oh, I'm sorry.
There you are.

Thanks, that's kind of you.
Thanks very much.

(Groaning)

(Murmuring)

Everyone! We need to evacuate
this area now.

Stay calm.
Make your way to the nearest exit.

Adam? Adam!

What's going on?
Paddy, help me. Adam's in there.

Jesus. Ah!
Is someone in there?

Yes, it's my projectionist.
It's locked.

Here, give me that.

(Crash!)

You alright in there?

Hey, you alright?
(Richard coughs)

He's... he's not breathing.

MAN: I'll call the fire brigade.
Somebody get some buckets.

What's happening? Paddy?

(Coughs)
BELLA: Adam!

(Breathes deeply)

♪ Theme music

(Hushed conversations)

Jean.
All's fine here, but...

Right.

Charlie.
Hello, Doc.

By the time I got there, there was
a lot of smoke coming from...

How was the club?
Peaceful.

LAWSON: This is Adam Summers.
He was the projectionist here.

Yes. Minimal burns.

Oh, goodness. A lot of smoke, eh?
That's what they said.

And I see they tried CPR.

Richard Taylor,
this is Doctor Lucien Blake.

Oh, Richard.

Mr Taylor pulled Summers
out from the room.

Had to kick the door in. He wasn't
breathing when I got him out.

Fair to say you took quite a risk
dragging him out of there.

Mr Taylor is the captain
of the Adelaide Metro Fire Station.

Calculated risk, really.
Still, couldn't save him.

Well, at least you tried.
Thank you.

Excuse me.
Richard.

Well, cause of death,
smoke inhalation, asphyxiation.

I'd put a bottle of scotch on it.

No, no. I lost the last bet.
Come on, Lawson.

Where's your sense of adventure?

(Hushed conversations)

Sorry, where are my manners?
Hello again. Richard Taylor.

Body mostly untouched by fire.

Small burns on the back
of the right hand.

Ah, ember burns? Sparks?

I'd say it was the hand
closest to the fire.

Yes.

What kind of job is a projectionist?
Projectionist?

Well, he looks after the machinery
that projects the images,

uh, screens the pictures
at the cinema.

I've never been.
To the Rex? Oh, you should go.

It's... it's a beautiful building.
No, I mean to the cinema.

Ever?
That's right.

Colouration indicates
carbon monoxide poisoning.

And smoke inhalation, obviously.

Bruising on the chest
consistent with CPR and petechiae.

Petechiae?
Yes.

Rupturing of the minor capillaries
of the eyes,

consistent with applied force
to the neck.

Yes, thank you. I know what it is.
You didn't check.

No, uh, visible trauma
to the neck, no bruising.

Did something fall on him?
Debris from the fire?

No. Obviously he was breathing
when the fire started.

Then why didn't he get out of there?

Perhaps he was unconscious
when the fire started.

How?

Lawson.

You mind? I'm on a Code 30.

Yes, well, I'm sorry to interrupt
your lunch,

but the presence of soot and ash
in the windpipe and lungs.

Presence of carbon monoxide at fatal
levels in bloods and tissue samples.

All indicators of asphyxiation
due to smoke inhalation.

What's this subcutaneous bruising?

Well, underneath the skin
there was evidence of force

having been applied to the throat,
over the carotid artery.

Enough force, it would seem,
to have rendered him unconscious.

Applied how?

The pattern of bruising suggests
something... something broad.

Perhaps a forearm, you see?
Yeah, like a choke hold?

Yes. Maintained until
he lost consciousness.

How long would that last for?
Oh, anything up to two minutes.

The point is this - someone was
with him, they knocked him out,

and they left him there to die.

You owe me a bottle of scotch.
Yes.

Davis? We're on a Code 31.

I'm not familiar with that one, sir.

Blake and I are going to the
pictures. You can answer the phones.

Yes, I've already started
cleaning up.

I'll need you to keep out of the
projection booth for the time being.

But I have to reopen.
Not until we say you can.

Why was the door locked?

It stops patrons barging in
during the screenings.

We used the sand buckets
to put it out.

There wasn't much actual flame,
just a lot of smoke.

Right.
Tell me, was Mr Summers a smoker?

Of course, he was.

I warned him, though,
don't do it near the prints.

But that's not so much of a problem
these days, is it?

There might have been some nitrate
prints stored with the others.

(Sighs)
You kept nitrate prints in here?

I... I might have kept some,
after the recall.

In this very room,
with your smoking projectionist?

Thank you, Mr McLaren.
We'll call you if we need you.

Bloody hell.
Unbelievable.

(Sighs) What do you make of it?

Well, tiny room, no windows,
no other exit.

They close this door,
the room's as good as sealed.

The fire would have b*rned up
all the oxygen pretty damn quickly.

Well, there's no cash.
Receipts and notes.

Let's think about this.

High heat. Lots of smoke,
especially with that door closed.

Let me see.

Hmm. Acetate. Smells like vinegar.
Yeah, I'll take your word for it.

Yes. (Sniffs)

And yet that doesn't smell
of vinegar. Odd.

Lawson, what's that rectangular tin
or whatever that is there?

Acetone.

Ah, it smells the same.

Acetone's highly flammable.
Right.

Especially when combined
with nitrate film stock.

This fire was deliberately lit.

Summers was alive
when the fire started. Yes.

You go through the foyer
to get into here. So?

Whoever did this bought a ticket,
or didn't have to.

Deliberately?
Who'd do a thing like that?

I'll need a list
of all your employees

who were working last night.

Uh, Bella the cigarette girl,
me and Adam.

And a list of all the patrons
that you can remember.

Oh, it was a pretty quiet session.

Slow sales - 20, 25 people,
that's all.

Is there anything else
I can help you with?

We'll let you know.

Why would he want to k*ll
his projectionist?

And set a fire
inside his very own cinema?

I'll talk to a few more people,
then I'll bring him in.

Hey. How much of the film
did you miss last night?

Oh, I didn't see much of it really.

No great loss. It wasn't the usual
Jimmy Stewart film. It was...

Oh, your friend Amelia was there,
with her brother, Patrick.

Such a lovely boy.
And he's so good to his sister.

I suppose he'll be there
tomorrow night at the party.

Yeah, I'm not listening.

Lucien, are you going to join us
any time soon?

Not very airtight, is it?
Is that a good thing?

Well, not if you want
to asphyxiate someone.

I'll keep that in mind.

Jean, how many people
were in the cinema, would you say?

I have no idea,
but it was jam-packed.

Really?
Mm.

That's not what the manager said.

Hm. How's the study going?
It's interesting.

Even if certain people
are more intent on matchmaking.

I'm allowed to make suggestions.
What?

Patrick Yorke.
Jean's hopeful for me.

Ohh. Yes, isn't he that lovely chap
who helped break the door down?

See? I thank you,
both of you, but I am fine.

(Phone rings)
I'll get that.

Oh, Mattie.

Doctor Blake's residence.
Not interested, eh?

Oh.
Don't you start.

Can you...? I just need
to take this in another room.

I have essays that need attention.

He seems like a perfectly
lovely chap.

Excuse me, I'm just going
to take that in the study.

Hm, certainly.

Mattie, you listen to me.
You don't have to work all the time.

Well, I'll remember that next time
I see you at your desk at 2am.

Touche.

(Jean speaks indistinctly on phone)

Well, that depends if he's here,

so I don't forget...
(Speaks indistinctly)

JEAN: It all depends
on what he wants to do.

So, really, I don't need
to ask permission,

but I can probably say 6.30?

(Indistinct conversations)

Busy day, eh?
Yeah.

I've been interviewing people all
morning who were at the pictures.

Mr Yorke, Mr Foster. Amelia.

Just take any seat you can.

Amelia, pleased to not have
seen you in here recently.

Yes, I've settled down since then,
Superintendent.

Glad to hear it.
We've already given a statement.

We just want to go over
some details.

CHARLIE: Name?
Bella Stapleton.

22 Peel Street North.

My, policemen are getting
more handsome every day.

Occupation?

I sell cigarettes and popcorn
at the Rex Cinema.

Other odd jobs.
Whatever Mr McLaren wants.

And roughly how many patrons
were in the auditorium yesterday?

The place was full.

Did you see anyone leave their seats
during the screening?

Oh, a few people.
I went to the toilet.

Oh, I went out to look for Vincent.

I was running late.
I missed the film entirely.

Got there when all the action
was happening.

Did you see anyone else in the foyer?
Just the other patrons.

Miles, the manager.

LAWSON: What was he doing?
Gypping people, probably.

Patrick.

I did some carpentry work for him
a month ago,

he still hasn't paid me.

And I've only just gotten
my business out of the red.

Miles hated Adam.
They were always fighting.

What about?
Oh, lots of things.

Miles was tight. Adam was sleazy.

Sleazy? How?
He just was.

What sort of work did you do for him?

Repairs, joinery. I built
the door we had to break down.

The door to the projection booth?

Nothing wrong with the old door,
but Miles wanted a door that sealed.

Did you hear any of their arguments?

A lot of them.
But there was one a few weeks ago.

Um, Adam was showing movies
to his friends. After hours.

Right.

We heard someone yell, 'fire'.

We could see it in the booth,
so we ran out to the foyer.

Right.
What was Mr McLaren doing?

Not much.
He was pretty useless, really.

We were lucky the other bloke
came along.

He was the one
who broke the door down.

You said the door was locked.
Yes.

But wouldn't Mr McLaren have a key?
I would have thought so.

Thank you. That'll be all.

Anything else, Miss Stapleton?
I don't think so.

Well, thank you. You can go.

You know, it wouldn't hurt you
to smile once in a while.

Go back and speak to that manager.

There's been some discrepancies
in what he's been telling us.

Take the Doctor with you.
Yes, sir.

She was an attractive young woman.

I'm surprised
you didn't ask her out.

Like I said, it was a pretty quiet
day yesterday.

You can see from the ticket sales.

Ah. Must make it hard
to earn a living.

(Chuckles) It sure does.

Any chance you might have recognised
some of the, what,

20 people you sold tickets to?

We're keen to see everyone
who was here.

No-one comes to mind.
Really? No regulars?

I'm pretty busy on a work day.

(Blows)

It must be tough
losing a worker like Adam Summers.

Yeah. He was a great bloke.

Good worker?
Not bad at all.

Despite the fact that he brought
his mates in for private showings,

which really pissed you off.

Didn't it, Mr McLaren?

You find anything?
No. No, I didn't.

How did you get on with the manager?

Well, he's helping us
with our enquiries.

He sells tickets,
doesn't tear up the stub,

then resells the ticket
for the next customer.

He's robbing the distributor,
then falsifying the records.

What about Summers?
Mm. A lot of arguments.

Summers was screening films
for his mates, after hours.

McLaren objected, then got
a new door fitted for the booth.

He's in the interview room now.

I'll join you.
Sir.

I didn't mind the first time
that he invited all his mates...

(Knocks)

Lawson, Charlie, a quick word?

Take a seat,
we'll be with you in a moment.

What?
Summers lived at 9 Erlandson Avenue.

Why would he have
a four-poster wrought iron bed

delivered to Ealing Estate,
Wicklow Drive?

Ealing Estate?
Yes.

I found that receipt and this note
in his wallet. Look here. Ed.

The Tyneman family
own Ealing Estate.

And Patrick has a son named Edward.

Charlie, any sign of a four-poster
wrought iron bed

when you searched Summer's flat?

No. It was a single bed.

He had an old camera and some
movie posters. The place was tiny.

Right. We'll talk
to Edward Tyneman tomorrow.

But this note details
an event happening tonight.

Tomorrow.
We'll ask him how he knows Summers.

You leave Tyneman alone.
Scout's honour.

(Chain clatters)

(Gate creaks)

(Door opens heavily)

(Creaking echoes)

(Rustling)

(Paper crunches)

LAWSON: Not much of a scout, then?
Truth is, I never joined.

Every other room's a mess.

But this one's been decorated
and swept clean.

Just this room?
Mm.

No-one's lived here for decades.

You said the place
belonged to Tyneman.

His great-grandfather built it,

then Patrick's father
built closer into town.

What do you make of this?

Someone's been held here.

I'll get the boys
to search the property,

then I'll talk to Patrick tomorrow.

Uh, sir, the mail's not addressed
to Patrick Tyneman.

It's addressed to Edward Tyneman.
Looks like he's the official owner.

And there is that thing
at the Carringbush tonight,

organised by Ed,
which Summers was invited to.

Well, unlike you, I don't have
a direct line to the Tynemans.

We'll make sure
no-one's at risk here,

then I'll talk to Patrick tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

O'Brien.
Davis.

Where are you going?
To a hen's night.

I'm not sure you're invited.

Whose hen's night?
Amelia Yorke and Vincent Foster.

You don't know them.

What, men and women together?
It is the '50s.

Ugh, different rooms!

Hey, O'Brien. What does Edward
Tyneman have to do with all this?

He's Vincent's best friend.

Is there anything else?
Have a great night.

I will.

♪ ROCK'N'ROLL MUSIC

Ooh, Mattie!
Oh, my God! You made it.

Only just. Only just.
You OK?

Mattie! Finally. You need a drink.
Darling, you are thirsty, I'm sure.

Will! Will! Three please. Thank you.
OK, maybe just the one.

Oh, Amelia, it is a hen's night
and you are the hen, darling.

To Amelia and Vincent.

Oh, no, no, no, no,
you are finishing that,

and then we're getting you another.

Mm-hmm.
And another. OK.

Oh, sweetie, you've become such
a bore since you've met Vincent.

Must be love.
Yeah, it is.

Well then, good for you.

RICHARD: (Speaks indistinctly)
It's nice up there in the hills.

JEAN: Oh, I can imagine it is.

I've never been to Adelaide,
Richard,

but I have seen the odd postcard
and it looks rather hot to me.

Mm, gotta watch out
for the bushfires, of course.

Yes, I can imagine. Oh, Lucien.

Oh, I didn't think you were here
for dinner.

Uh, change of plans.
Doctor.

It's...?
Richard. Of course.

Excuse me for making myself at home.
Jean promised me you wouldn't mind.

Not at all.
Um...

So, uh, Richard.
Tell me, how do you know Jean?

I dropped my wallet
when we were at the pictures,

and Jean came to my rescue.

Oh, hardly.
And we talked a bit.

After the fire.
Ahh.

Richard's from Adelaide.
I had family here until recently.

I see. Who?
My brother, Henry. And his daughter.

Is that who you stay with?

Henry passed some months back,

and after that his daughter,
my niece, Rebecca, moved away.

Oh, I'm so sorry about your brother.

Richard, do you mind terribly

if I ask you a couple of questions
about that fire?

Oh, Lucien, no!
It's alright. Of course.

It appears it was deliberately lit,
using acetone as an accelerant.

Acetone's highly flammable.
And fairly toxic, yes?

In a small room,
especially if it's airtight.

That's horrible.
Yes, it is.

Yes, it is.

What did you want to know?

Well, how long would it take

for a small room like that
to run out of oxygen?

Depends on the fire. Small room like
that, two minutes, maybe less.

Really. Also depends
on what there is to burn.

Right. Do...

Well... (Clears throat)
I'll leave you to it. Thank you.

If there's anything else about
the fire I can help you with...

Thank you. And please, it's Lucien.
Thank you, Lucien.

Goodnight.
Goodnight.

RICHARD: Cheers.
JEAN: Cheers.

Oh, I'm sorry...

(Laughter)

Now I know it's traditional
to wish the groom luck

on throwing his life away.

(Laughter)

And we do. We wish him luck.
He's going to need it.

(Laughter)

I mean, we tried to warn him,
but he wouldn't listen.

So, to Vincent, you idiot.
ALL: To Vincent.

Congratulations.
Thanks, Edward.

Kind words. I think.

MAN: Just go easy on these.
That's the last.

Apparently the bride is celebrating
her hen's party next door.

Yeah, that's right. Yeah.
Are you sure that's a good idea?

If it was my party, I wouldn't want
the missus anywhere near it.

Well, there's a back room in case
anything gets too messy.

Really?

I had some entertainment planned,
but it fell through.

You organised all this?

I just threw some of Dad's money
at it.

My father would sympathise.

And you are?
A ring in, obviously.

The name's Charles.
Edward. Tyneman.

Vincent seems happy.

Yeah, well, he's in love,
apparently.

She's beneath him.

Want another drink, Charles?
That'd be great.

Mrs Vincent Foster.

I know.

Mrs Vincent Foster. He's only
the richest young man in Ballarat.

Hey, Bella, be nice.

You know that's not why
I'm marrying him.

Paddy must be so relieved.
To have you off his hands.

No, he's happy for me.

And speaking of Paddy...
Don't. Alright?

She is married to her work.
She's happy.

I've been fending off Jean as well,
you know.

Ever since that fire when Paddy
made such a hero of himself,

trying to save the projectionist.

(Moans)

What?

Well, let's just say that's
one person we won't be missing.

More shandies? (Giggles)

I'm telling you, once
it's your turn, you'll find one,

and then I will be your best man.

I will be your best man!

Rather curious, aren't you, Charles?

(Chuckles) Hey.

I've checked, and no-one here
seems to know you.

Or your father.
So why are you here?

That's a 16mm projector.

Oh, you a fan?
Are you?

How did you know Adam Summers?

I'll go now, shall I?

How have you been, Charles?
Right this way, please.

My father sends his regards,
Superintendent.

Shall I just sit here?

Council documents show that
you're the owner of Ealing Estate.

Is this correct?
Yes.

It would show your father gifted
you the property three years ago.

When was the last time
you were there?

A year ago.

Exactly one year ago?
Pretty much.

Who maintains the property,
if you don't?

Have you seen it, Superintendent?

There have been some changes made
recently. Some furniture delivered.

A wrought iron bed
was installed upstairs.

Squatters. Clearly.

Adam Summers was projectionist
at the Rex Cinema.

He was m*rder*d two days ago.
Did you know Adam Summers?

No.

And yet he had furniture
delivered to your property.

As I said, squatters.

We found a note on him.
'Carringbush Hotel, 8pm, Ed.'

(Scoffs)

You organised a joint
buck's and hen's night

at the Carringbush Hotel last night.

Your name's Ed.
Oh, it's Edward.

There's a difference. So maybe
you should ask someone else.

I've been helpful today.

But if you want
to speak to me again,

you'll be dealing
with the family lawyer.

Well, I think Charlie might be
on the right track here.

You still holding the manager?
Hm.

Good. I'd like to have another look
at that projection booth.

You mind if I take Charlie?
What are you looking for?

The question we've been asking is,
why would someone k*ll Summers?

And we have absolutely no idea.

Perhaps the better question would be,
why would someone light a fire?

CHARLIE: So, Doc,
what are you thinking?

I don't know. I just...
I just don't know.

Charlie, you've just put
a choke hold on Summers, yes?

Uh, how did I get in?

Oh, say you're the manager
of the cinema. You've got a key.

Or... or just maybe I'm
Edward Tyneman and Summers knows me.

You be careful.
You're starting to sound like me.

Now, you argue, or you don't. Bear
with me for a second, would you?

Now, somehow... somehow you manage
to get a choke hold on him, yes?

And you maintain that hold
until he's unconscious.

Alright. Alright, so I'm strong.

But you have barely two minutes.
Two minutes to start a fire.

Well, why don't I just k*ll him?
Maybe that's not your intention.

What, so I just want to burn
the place down?

Ahh! But this door,
this door closes,

sealing the room,
and the fire smoulders down.

Maybe I don't get that.
Maybe you do.

Maybe you do. But why,
why do you do it here?

Well, because nitrate burns like
nothing else on earth, that's why.

What?
This film.

This is 16 millimetre.

Normally, film used for general
exhibition is 35 millimetre.

There seems to be a lot
of this 16 millimetre stuff here.

Edward Tyneman. He had a 16mm film
projector at that party last night.

(Clattering)

You sure Mrs Beazley won't mind?
Oh, she's used to me making a mess.

Not quite what I meant.

Mattie! Have you ever
edited film before?

Can't say that I have.

Well, this was amongst
the film stock at the cinema.

It's 16 millimetre,
not meant to be there.

So, we're going to clean it,

we're going to cut away the damage
and we're going to stick it together.

With what?
Sticky tape.

Why?
Well, because we're out of ideas.

(Sighs) Alright.

(Door opens)

Ah!

You keep up a fair pace.
Yes, well, I have to around here.

Oh, cup of tea, Richard?
Lovely.

JEAN: Lucien?
In here!

What's through those doors?

It's his mother's room apparently.
He keeps it locked.

Don't even think about it, Charlie.

Oh, what's going on?
Uh, the film from the fire.

We've managed to splice it together.
Evidence.

Is that...? That's the room
in Tyneman's house.

Yes. Bloody Tyneman's.
Edward this time, not Patrick.

Oh, the son of a local businessman.

That's... a girl.

What's she doing?

Oh, Lucien!
Jean.

Jean! Jean, I'm...
What the devil!

Richard. Richard, please!

Mattie, are you alright? What is it?

MATTIE: The birthmark.
I know who that is.

Please. Thanks for coming in, Amelia.
Take a seat over here.

(Clears throat)

Um... I'm afraid... I'm afraid
what I have to tell you...

(Sighs)..is going to come
as unwelcome news.

Um, with this investigation
into Mr Summer's death,

some 16 millimetre film was found
in the projection booth.

Now, it was damaged somewhat...

But we managed to piece it together
and view it.

It was p*rn,
and you were in it.

Does Mattie know?
I'm afraid so.

Tell me, how... how did this happen?

After my parents d*ed,
I really went off the rails.

My brother was always there for me.

What does Paddy have to do with this?

He borrowed some money
to start a business,

but then he couldn't pay it back.

I see.

Who did he borrow money from?

Edward Tyneman?

He said that I could pay back
all of Paddy's debts...

..if I let him film me.

Of course. When was this?

Um, about six months ago.
I hadn't met Vincent yet.

And does Paddy...
Does he know about this?

He found out. Men started...
Yes.

He was so angry.

I wasn't the only one.
There were other films, other girls.

I'm so sorry.
Ah, Amelia.

I feel so dirty.

Well, you're not. Not at all.

Just promise me
you won't tell Vincent.

(Door closes)

How is she?
Well, she's feeling... ashamed.

You know, she is never
going to talk to me again

because I saw her doing that.

Listen, you did the right thing.

Terrible, Jean. Trying to pay off
her brother's debts.

Oh, that poor girl.
Yes.

Thank you. Um, by the way,
I'm sorry Richard had to see that.

Are you fond of him?

Let's not talk about Richard
like this.

Are you fond of him? Because
if you are, you have my blessing.

Oh, thank you. I'm so grateful.

Why don't you organise the reception
while you're at it?

You know, I'm not a fool, Lucien.

I don't just fall head over heels

for any man
who pays me some attention.

Jean, I was just saying...
Richard is a very charming man.

But after he saw that film,
he followed me into the garden,

he got angry and he shouted at me.

I'm sorry, I had no idea.

Yes. So, thank you for your
blessings, but this time I'll pass.

Edward Tyneman's lawyer denies
everything. Threatened legal action.

Can he do that?
Well, he can make life difficult.

You think Miss Yorke would go
on record against him?

No, no, it'd destroy her.
Constable.

(Sighs) What do you think?

About the brother?
Certainly plenty of motive.

But why didn't he go
straight after Edward Tyneman?

Well, perhaps he was next
on the list, after he k*lled Adam.

And set about destroying the film.
What about the manager?

No, small time fraud, perhaps,
but no, this is different.

Are we certain the fiance
doesn't know?

Amelia begged me not to tell him.

She did say, however,
there are other girls.

Probably worth tracking them down.

Not that they're likely
to come forward.

(Knocking)

Lucien.
Richard!

So, this is where you work?
When I'm not at the surgery, yes.

Something I can do for you?
Jean said you'd be here.

I wanted to apologise,
to both of you.

I lost my temper.
No need to apologise.

Well, that sort of thing,
it's the worst kind of exploitation.

Young women... It's the worst.

I certainly hope those responsible
are caught and punished.

But, uh, that's still no excuse.
I shouldn't have lost my temper.

Well, no harm done, I'm sure. Now
listen, how long are you in town for?

I'm not sure. There are some
family matters to attend to.

Right. I understand.

Thanks, Lucien.

Now listen, dinner sometime, yes?
I'd love to.

Good.
See you.

(Clattering)

Richard.

Lucien!

Get out of here, Lucien.
Please, just go. Let me...

And what do I tell Jean?
That I just left you here?

Richard, come on.

You weren't planning to die tonight
and I know I wasn't.

Please. Please, I'm asking you.
Don't... don't do it.

(Groans)

They told her no-one else
would see it.

Then they travelled up and down
the country, showing everyone.

My brother went into his local
and saw his daughter...

..doing that.

While all the other drinkers
stood around, cheering.

You got family?
Yes.

Well then, you understand.
I had to do something.

Henry's health was never good.
That as good as k*lled him.

Sweet Rebecca dropped her bundle
after that.

Where is she now?
Mayday Hills.

Ahh!
Committed. Six months ago.

Said she couldn't bear the thought
of her father... knowing.

And the bastard responsible
inherits this.

He doesn't bloody deserve it.
No, he does not.

So. What are you gonna do now?

I'm going to stay with you.
And wait until you're ready.

Then together we'll walk out of here
and I'll drive you back into town.

You're gonna let me go?

Then why should I go with you?

Because you're a decent man,
Richard, you are.

A decent man,
in spite of what you've done.

Adam Summers
wouldn't have thought so.

And I... I think he might be right.

Jean would expect you
to accompany me back to town.

Really? Even now?
Oh, yes.

Well, I'd better not disappoint her,
then.

The bloke who did this?

They won't get away with it,
I promise you that.

Is there anything
you want to tell us, Mr Tyneman?

I've already warned you, Mr Lawson.
My lawyer will be here soon.

The courts recognise
early guilty pleas.

Then I'll accept nothing less
than a full apology.

Fair enough.

The constable found
something interesting

while he was going through
the footage.

(Projector whirrs)

Stop there. There. In the mirror.

Extortion, false imprisonment,

the producing of pictures
or of a film

of an indecent, obscene
or disgusting nature.

(Door opens)

Is this your doing?
Is this your doing?

Dad.
Patrick.

(Projector whirrs)

I understand my family lawyer
has been contacted.

So I believe.
I'm calling him off.

You're on your own.
What?

This is not the way
our family conducts itself.

You've forced a young woman
to prost*tute herself,

and you've filmed it
for your own pleasure!

It was for money.
It's disgusting, and it's illegal.

Well, that's never
stopped you before.

You're a disgrace.

I apologise for wasting
police resources.

Charge him.
Dad!

Dad! Dad!

AMELIA: You OK?

Let's go.

Sorry. Can I ask, does my fiance
have to know about this?

He won't hear it from us,
Miss Yorke.

Thank you.

But you might still consider
telling him.

I understand he loves you.
Might be worth trusting that.

Sir?

Haven't you got some paperwork
to do?

Yes, sir.

(Clears throat)
He'll get there.

Don't tell me you've just washed
the sheet we used as a screen?

It was already clean.
Well, it's cleaner now.

He was a good man, Richard.
Mostly. There was just something...

Yes, something...
..very sad about him.

The same can be said
of a lot of people.

Yes, but we don't all light fires
and k*ll people, do we?

No. No, we don't.

Jean, I am so sorry I offended you.

I'll never give you
my blessing again.

Oh, just as well.

Pass me another towel.

Thank you.
You're welcome.

MAN: Oh! Hold it!

Have you considered
your own arrangements, Doctor?

I'm sure you'd want to spare your
family any unnecessary heartache

when your own time comes.

I need you to open this coffin.
Doctor, this is unforgivable.

How long's he been dead,
do you reckon?

Let's have a little look, eh?

Bloody hell!

Pathology results for Jean Beazley.

My liver function is down. Well, I
haven't had any blood tests lately.

Any idea what he's talking about?
No.

I don't know what the bloody hell's
wrong with you,

but you'd better sort it out before

you even think about resuming
your duties.

Is that clear?
Yes.