03x04 - By the Southern Cross

[bunniefuu]

Ladies and gentlemen,

today marks the
anniversary of the rebellion

- at the Eureka Stockade...
- Too right, mate.

The day miners fought
shoulder to shoulder

to defend their
rights and liberties

against their
colonial tormentors.

Absolutely!

Eureka is the real birthplace

of our great nation.

Clear the park!

It's our legal
right to assemble.

- We're celebrating the brave men...
- All right, break it up.

..who fought
toadies just like you.

Get your hands off me!

Don't touch me.

Don't you touch me!

Get out of the way!

Get your hands off her!

Move it. Move away.

You were brilliant!

My shout.

- Thanks, Georgie.
- I'll get the next one.

What do you jokers
know about anything?

My great-grandfather was a miner

- at the stockade.
- Well, then, tonight we drink to him.

If he was a miner, then he was
a worker, fighting the ruling class.

Ladies lounge, missy.

I'll, um... I'll bring your
drinks through, Wendy.

That's from the
lad down there, sir.

You're nothing but
an overeducated git.

Better than no education, mate.

I'd better head back in there,
make sure Wendy's all right.

Will you be OK?

Someone has to look after
the conquering hero over there.

Last drinks! Now
quieten down or get out.

This isn't over.

So much for workers unite.

- Right, Des?
- He'll come round.

- How about another beer?
- Yeah.

To Eureka, Georgie.

Eureka.

Des!

Dad, enough. Your
breakfast is getting cold.

The battle of wills begins.

Finally Maureen says, "I know
you want her to try new things,

Martin, but this is ridiculous.

She's five years old.
What's your excuse?"

Dad.

20 years later, things
haven't changed one bit.

So nice to meet you
at last, Mrs. Beazley.

- Likewise, Minister.
- Martin, goodness me.

Matilda talks about
you constantly.

Her mother and I sometimes
think we've lost her to you.

Well, Mattie's
like family to us.

Indeed.

- More toast?
- That'd be lovely.

I'll get that.

- I'll, uh, put the toast on.
- Very good.

Very good.

So, Martin, your
visit to Ballarat.

- Business or pleasure?
- Both.

Some business. A government
announcement at the old rail yard.

But I'm also keen to see
what Matilda's up to here.

Excuse me, Lucien,

you're required at the
Eureka Memorial site.

Right.

Excuse me.

Charlie?

This bloke was part of the protest
we cleared out of here yesterday.

And we also found
this, just over there.

There's nothing in it.

His name is Des Somerville.

Girlfriend found him.

Wendy Smith.

- Des Somerville, you say?
- Mm.

If you just check the body,
Blake, we'll take it from there.

Certainly, Bill.
Whatever you say.

Bloody troublemakers.

University students from Melbourne,
staying over on Stawell Street.

I see.

Well...

I can tell you this.

Young Des was
punched in the face.

Looks as though he's fallen
backwards onto the steps,

hitting his head.

And curiously,
very little blood.

Robbery gone wrong, you reckon?

Hard to say at this point.

Well, you let us know if you need
any help working it all out, then.

I'll take the girl
back to the station.

Boss'll be wanting
to talk to her.

Old Bill Hobart,
ever the charmer.

Charlie, did you see here?

Just on his arm.

I'd say that's a bite mark.

Looks like it.

Hey, Doc. Mattie.

She was here yesterday.

Yes, I know.

And thanks to this
morning's newspaper,

so does the whole
of Ballarat, I'm afraid.

No markings on the knuckles,
but abrasions on both elbows.

- The bite mark on his arm?
- I've taken a dry saliva sample.

It may take a day or so
before we have the results.

Just the one blow.

Yes, to the cheek,

where I suspect we'll find
a fractured zygomatic arch.

I'll need an X-ray
to confirm that.

Yes, of course.
Back of the head?

Quite a large laceration.

There would have been
substantial blood loss.

In which case, there should
have been more blood at the site,

even allowing
for the cold night.

What were you doing wandering
around the memorial that night, eh?

Are you talking to me or him?

Hmm? Oh, Alice, I'm sorry, him.

Would you mind bringing over
some tweezers and a bowl, please?

Thank you.

Now...

that's gravel.

Doctor?

You're going to have
to excuse me for a bit.

I need to check something.

From the memorial site?

- Yes.
- You'll want to take a look at this.

The lesion on the back of
the skull? In fact, there are two.

Really?

The first fracture
is centered here.

See the occipital contusion
and fresh hemorrhage.

But the second
fracture, just as severe,

shows only a small
amount of blood around it.

The first lesion was the
fatal injury and the second...

Caused by a step or a plinth.

Was postmortem.

Which explains the lack
of blood at the scene.

The body was moved,

and the gravel from the memorial
site definitely doesn't match.

I need to pinpoint
the actual m*rder site.

Any suggestions?

Well, I'm not an
expert on gravel,

but assuming the person
who bit him was also his k*ller,

you could saliva test every
potential m*rder*r in Ballarat.

And short of that,
no, nothing, I'm afraid.

Miss Smith,

did anyone have any reason
to want to hurt your boyfriend?

A man att*cked us at the pub,

after we were forced
from the Eureka site.

- Which pub?
- Er, Pig and Whistle.

The att*ck

was it inside or
outside the pub?

Ah, it started inside,
and then the publican,

he called for the swill.
And I thought it was sorted,

but some people followed
us outside as we were leaving.

Everyone was involved,
from what I could tell.

It's so ridiculous.

What is, Miss Smith?

When we organized this,
Colin Doyle warned us.

He said the locals don't
take kindly to our type.

What type is that?

Union types.

- How long had you and Des...
- A year.

We were going to get married.

So what was stopping you, then?

I loved Des. And he loved me.

She's not telling us everything.

I doubt she could have done it,
though, boss. See the size of her?

Actually, Bill, a piece of
two-by-four'd probably do the job

if she was angry enough.

Hobart, Davis.

Let's find out when Des
Somerville was last seen alive.

Right, boss. And you!

Stop pretending you're a policeman
and get me an autopsy report,

pronto.

Of course.

Yes, Sergeant?

Excuse me, boss, I don't get it.

Why don't you just sack him?

Because, Bill, if it was that
easy, I would have done it already.

Shut the door on the way out.

Oh, he was here all right.

He bought Ken Farmer a beer,
and copped an earful from Quinny,

going on about Eureka.

- Quinny?
- Roy Quinn. He's a regular.

Full of piss and vinegar. Always
going on about the good old days.

Peg him for a fighter?

As a lad he was up for it.

What do bloody Melbourne
blow-ins know, coming into our pub?

- My great-grandfather was...
- Answer the question!

Did you fight with the victim?

Might have thrown a punch.

What do you do for work?

Can't work. I did my back in.

- What's that got to do with anything?
- The victim was bashed and robbed.

- Nothing to do with me.
- Open your wallet.

I'm told you live
off your missus.

Police resources are stretched
and our time is valuable,

more valuable than yours,
so keep that in mind. Blake?

Did you fight with a man you
now know as Des Somerville?

We argued.

The dead bloke made a smart
arse comment and we got into it, but...

But the Commies were doing a good
job of fighting amongst themselves.

Put your hands on the table.

What'd you do after closing?

Don't move!

I went home for tea.

So you didn't follow
Somerville and you didn't hit him.

- Is that what you're telling me?
- Yes?

- No?
- No.

What do you want now?

Des Somerville d*ed at least
eight hours before he was found

this morning,

and I am positive, positive he
wasn't k*lled at the memorial.

Also, there's a bite mark on
his arm. We can't explain it yet.

Superintendent, I simply
can't, in good conscience,

sign off on that
report, not yet.

You think I don't know how
often you do this, Blake?

- Do what exactly?
- You stall.

You don't sign
off on your reports,

then spend two or three
days using that as an excuse

to do whatever you
want, wherever you want.

- Superintendent, there are still...
- Today.

Not tomorrow, not the day after.

You have that report
on my desk by 5pm.

That's final.

I'm off to the rail yards.

You talk to everyone who was at
the Stawell Street house last night,

and talk to that
bludger, Quinn's, wife.

All right, boss.

I'll be back shortly.

I'm going to head
over to Stawell Street.

I might meet you there, Charlie.

You'd be better off
finishing that report, Doc.

Thank you for
reminding me, Bill.

What the hell are you thinking?

I mean, have you seen this?
Have you looked at the headlines?

Have you got a brain
in that head of yours?

I mean, I'm paying
you a lot of money.

You've just got to
get your act together.

You here for the
speeches, Doctor?

I thought I'd come and
see what you were up to.

You've seen this, I s'pose?

- Yes.
- Are you ready, Minister?

I am, if you've finished
tearing strips off your nephew.

Ken Farmer, Lucien Blake.

My daughter boards
at Dr. Blake's house.

Mr. Farmer.

Well, I'll go up
and introduce you.

Martin, I was just as
shocked as you when I saw it.

- I had absolutely no idea.
- Thank you for coming.

Well, it doesn't matter what I
say, she never bloody listens.

Ballarat resident. I'm
pleased to welcome

Minister for Industry and Commerce,
Martin O'Brien, to tell us all about

"Think Big, Think Ballarat."

It's been a very good morning.

I'm honored to be in
your fine city today.

Miss Smith, Mr. Beville.

I'd like to ask you
both a few questions.

Who was here in
Mr. Doyle's house last night?

Just those of us
here from Melbourne.

And Mr. Doyle, of course.

No-one else?

Just us, and Georgie Bromley.

So what happened
next, Mr. Beville?

I went to bed as soon as
I got home from the pub.

And you said the
same, Miss Smith?

Where is Doyle now?

Doyle had to make
a trip into town.

We were s'posed
to meet him for lunch

about ten minutes ago.

Quite simply, "Think Big,
Think Ballarat" means jobs.

Business can offer
migrant workers incentives.

What about incentives
for local workers?

Populate or perish.

We'll all perish if
you lot get your way.

You award tenders for
public land and give them

to your developer mates

and get the kickbacks.

- Bunch of crooks.
- Look out! Doyle's armed!

Now!

Watch out!

Well...

Ladies and gentlemen,

as much as we
value our democracy,

even fight wars for it,

freedom of expression
can, on occasion...

be one of its burdens.

Those paint tins, Mr. Beville.

Taking them to your lunch
with Colin Doyle, were you?

Charlie.

You missed quite a show
at the old rail yards, I tell you.

Goodness, that looks nasty.
How did you come by that?

Just outside the pub.

Some bloke had a go at
Des, I got caught in the middle.

Would you like me to
take a look at that for you?

Thanks, I'm a medical student.

Oh, I see.

What was the fight about?

What it was always
about with Des - ideology.

So his... ideology
differed from yours?

You could say that.

Last night, in your room.

Was Miss Smith with you?

Absolutely not!

I'm going to get going.

You should know, Colin Doyle
is already in police custody.

A disturbance at the
government launch today.

Just as well there was
no-one else there to...

help him.

If there's nothing
else, officer...

It's like trying to herd cats.

Plus I still need to
find the Bromley boy.

Oh, I saw him at the launch in
town, with his uncle, Ken Farmer.

Ah. Thanks, Doc.

All right, Charlie.

You all right?

Saliva and gravel.
All I've got to go on.

Ahh!

What now?

Bike tracks.

Charlie.

You found what
you were looking for?

Perhaps, Charlie.

Perhaps.

You want me to do what?

This was your idea, Alice.

Yes, but... I was joking.
Can't you tell when I'm joking?

Look, if I can get saliva
samples from our suspects,

we may find a match with the
sample from the victim's arm.

What kind of testing
are you thinking?

Well, for traces of
medication, initially.

And if that doesn't work,
then... genetic secretor markers.

I'll talk to Pharmacology.
See what I can do.

Does Superintendent
Munro know you're doing this?

No, not yet.

I see.

It'll take at least 24 hours.

Go! Before I change my mind.

Thank you, Charlie.

Well done, Cec.

Mr. Bromley, I'd like to
ask you a few questions.

Yeah.

Sorry, you'll have to excuse me.

It's not every day a
mate is found dead.

When did you last
see the deceased?

Last night.

And what happened?

There was a loudmouth at
the pub who threatened us.

Roy Quinn.

Did you see him, after closing?

He tried to start up again
and Joe scared him off.

We all went back to the house.

He could have
followed us, I suppose.

And what happened then?

Drinking, arguing,

more drinking, more arguing.

That's about it.

Arguments about what?

I'm not involved in the
romantic entanglements.

Sorry, which romantic
entanglements are these, exactly?

I'd ask Doyle and Joe.

Neither seemed to be seeing
eye to eye with Des yesterday.

Tell me everything,
from the start.

Well, we were at the memorial
site for the anniversary,

until you coppers moved
us along, and then...

Try again.

Because I know you
called in the disturbance.

You wanted the police there.

And I know you fed the
Eureka photos to the press.

You see, I spoke to the editor
of The Courier this morning.

You're quite a photographer.

Tell you what I think.

Your plan was always
to get the O'Brien girl

and Georgie Bromley
into the newspapers.

First at the memorial,

then the next day at the launch.

Scandal like that would
end up in all the city papers.

Ken Farmer's no longer
such a man of the people.

Martin O'Brien turns out to
have a Red for a daughter.

I see I'm not the only one who can
come up with a conspiracy theory.

So what went wrong?

Mr. Doyle, would you mind just
holding still for me for one moment?

Good. Good.

Now, just while you
have your mouth open...

There we are, well
done. Top work.

Mr. Doyle?

Mr. Doyle!

All right!

Yes, the newspapers were me,

but the paint tins
were all Des's idea.

And he wanted to do a hell of a
lot more than just throw some paint.

- Go on.
- He...

He wanted to mix
acid into one of the tins.

But I told him that's not
the way the CPA operates.

We believe in peaceful protest.

Now, is that so?

Why would I k*ll him
when I needed him

at Martin O'Brien's
speech the next day?

Even after he wanted to harm
an bunch of innocent people?

After all that, you
still wanted him there?

He was a young, handsome
bloke on the front of the paper,

seeming to lead the charge for
us. It's... it's perfect for recruitment.

You're backing the wrong horse
trying to pin this on me, mate.

Sergeant Davis, escort
Mr. Doyle to the cells.

Oh, yeah, typical.

I've got rights, you know.

Get your hands off me!

Bloody coppers!

You know, I swear
if I didn't know better,

I'd say you broke that man's nose
on purpose in the hope you could

sit in on this interview.

Superintendent, your report.

Everything we've been
able to confirm thus far.

It's about time.

You can thank your
wife for being released.

You sh**t your
big mouth off again,

you'll be back in the
cells, understand?

Sergeant Davis?

Status of Mr. Doyle's two
accomplices this afternoon?

Ah, charged, sir, with breach
of the peace and public safety.

- They'll appear in court next week.
- Very good.

Hm.

Oh, Jean.

Oh, tell me, how was the rest
of breakfast with Mattie's father?

Extremely cordial.
Typical politician -

could talk the birds
down from the trees.

That'll be your three o'clock.

Hello, Agnes. Come through.

Lucien.

You look awful.

Agnes, how lovely to
see you. Come on in.

Well, if there's anything
else you need, Agnes,

I'll be right outside.

No need to leave, Jean.

I'm sure he tells you everything
that goes on in here, anyway.

Here.

Sit.

- Right.
- Now...

Why the long face?

Well, to be perfectly honest...

This.

The Red Menace.

Yes, now let's get your file and
get started on that blood work, eh?

Young people.

I expect Colin Doyle
was involved somehow?

And why would you say that?

He's been causing
problems. For the Ken Farmers

and the Patrick Tynemans
of the world for years.

The Capitalist and
the Communist.

What do any of them know?

At least I've been to Russia.

Don't look at me
like that, Jean.

I haven't always
been an old maid.

Besides,

the trip was all rather rudely
interrupted by the revolution.

Sounds very dangerous.

Well, at least I didn't have to go to
all the trouble of learning Russian.

Well? You'd better take some
blood while I still have some.

Yes, of course. Jean,
would you mind...?

You know what serves belief
even more than self-interest?

Survival.

Awfully cynical of you, Agnes.

Human nature.

It ruins everything.

You really think whoever it was
could have moved the body on a bike?

Well, there's only
one way to find out.

- You ready?
- Yeah.

Hey, listen, how did you
get on with those paint tins?

No trace of acid in any of them.

Doyle was released several
hours ago. Ah, buggar!

Sorry.

Can we... can we
go back inside now?

Yes, of course. It was
worth a try, though.

That was Constable Simmons.

There's a disturbance
at Colin Doyle's.

I don't suppose you're
riding the bike there.

What happens in Ballarat stays
in Ballarat, mate, you know?

Get him! Oh, my nose!

Hey!

He broke my nose!

- Have you got him, Charlie?
- Yeah.

It was supposed to
be a Eureka picnic.

I didn't expect Charlie to
charge in and make a scene.

Yes...

Um, thank you, Jean.

Mattie, you should know.

Doyle made sure the
police would be there.

They used the Bromley
boy to get to his uncle.

They used you to
get to your father.

I'm sorry, but
that's the truth of it.

Perhaps you could drive
Mattie to the club, Lucien.

Yes, of course. It
would be my pleasure.

I thought you got lost.

Gentlemen, my daughter, Matilda.

And of course the man
of the hour, Lucien Blake.

Lucien, would you care
to join us for dinner?

I'm sure no-one would mind.

No, not at all.

The more the merrier.

Really, I... I...

would love to?

That would be
very nice, thank you.

I'm just going to
talk to Georgie.

Well, don't be long. I
need to talk to you later.

Terrible business for them.

Yes, and you had to run
the story on the front page,

Patrick. Oh, I'm sorry,

but a dead Commie in the park
is a much better headline than

a political slogan at a factory.

Why can't people like that
damned fool Doyle see that

all this is for the long-term
growth of Ballarat?

The long-term growth
of Australia, Ken.

The good of the
Commonwealth, eh?

Stick to the surgery, Blake.

Speaking of Communism...

You were recently in
China, weren't you, Blake?

You have a daughter
there if I'm not mistaken.

Yes. Yes, I do. Beautiful girl.

And a fascinating country.

Completely foreign in every way.

And what about you, William?

You see much of the world
during your w*r service?

Serious injury prevented
the w*r Office accepting me,

unfortunately.

b*llet wound in
the line of duty.

Pity. Traveling really
does broaden the mind.

How is your... shoulder
anyhow, William?

Georgie, they used us.

That's why they invited us,
to embarrass our families.

No. I'd believe it of
Doyle, maybe, but Des...

Des wouldn't do that to us.

Dinner is about to be
served, Miss O'Brien.

Thank you.

Good luck in there.

Thanks a lot.

Actually, this town is lucky
to have a man like Patrick

looking out for it.

Yes.

I find myself thinking
that very same thing

on a daily basis.

So, gentlemen,

and of course
Matilda, a toast...

to Lucien and William.

Lucien and William.

Whose quick thinking
ensured no-one was hurt today.

Yes, except for your ruddy coat.

What about Des?

- Matilda.
- What?

He doesn't count because
he's a Communist?

You have to admit,

the boy brought it upon himself.

OK, that's enough for me.

- I'm going to say goodnight.
- Matilda.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Communists, Matilda.

Have you taken
leave of your senses?

I am in Ballarat on government
business and there you are

at a Communist rally
being run off by the police,

splashed across the front page
of the bloody newspaper, no less!

Dad, it was perfectly innocent.

Innocent, in what way?

I met them at the rallies during
the Melbourne Peace Congress

earlier this year. They are
my friends from university.

Yes, and your so-called
friends tried to att*ck me today.

- Dad, I had no idea that...
- Their intentions are violent

and dangerous.

Sweetheart,

do you think I enjoy

spending my time keeping
you out of secret files?

How do you think
that reflects on me?

You keep files on people?

Don't be so bloody naive, girl!

No, don't talk to me
like that. I am not Mum.

Do not bring your
mother into this.

Why not? You dragged me
along to that ridiculous dinner

just like you do to her.

- I don't know how she puts up
with it - Marriage is about compromise

and sacrifice, something
you know nothing about.

Oh, and what have you
ever sacrificed for Mum?

I think you should
go home, get to bed.

Georgie?

Night cap?

- Oh!
- Oh!

Wendy?

Unusual crowd for
you tonight here, sir?

Ah, very.

And as you'd requested,

Mr. Farmer's glass
from the dinner table.

Excellent, Cec. Thank you.

It may be of interest -

Mr. Farmer met the
m*rder*d lad in here yesterday.

- Is that right?
- Hm.

And don't look now, sir,
but over your right shoulder...

Scotch. Neat, thanks.

Certainly, sir.

Enjoying yourself,
are you, Blake?

Aren't you, William?

What are you even doing here?

I was invited.

Better question might be,
what are you doing here?

- What, the club, you mean?
- Yes.

Oh, Patrick's put me
forward for membership.

Really? Oh, good.

Be a shame if an existing
member objected to your application.

Is that how you want it to be?

I thought that was the
way you wanted it to be.

Well, as long as we're clear
where we both stand. Hm.

Just one more thing.

Don't ever call
me William again.

Sir.

Cec, as always an absolute
pleasure. Thank you.

Goodnight, William.

What on earth are
you doing here?

It's humiliating.

Doyle, he...

He tried it on with me.

- When?
- Last night, at the pub.

I just thought he was being
nice, but then back at the house...

Is that why he and Des fought?

I think so.

Well, Des must
have been furious.

Everyone's out for themselves.

- Mattie...
- Hm?

Des wasn't furious.

Not at all.

In fact, I don't
think he even cared.

I yelled at him. I told him I
never wanted to see him again.

It was only when I was at
the station I remembered

he had all our money.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Wendy.

I sat there all night.

I was coming back to collect
my things in the morning

when I found him.

He was just lying there...

And all I could think was,
"I wish I'd k*lled him myself."

Yes, Mattie?

What a disaster.

Listen,

when I was your age, I struggled
to understand my parents, too.

Now, take dogs, for example.

All right. Dogs.

Yes, dogs. I always
thought my father hated dogs.

Well, he didn't.

Turns out he loved them.

He only got rid of our dog Rosie
because my mother was allergic.

I never understood.

I don't understand
my mother at all.

And my father...

Every time, we have
the same argument.

And every time, I just end up
sounding like a petulant teenager.

Well, I wouldn't, um...

I wouldn't worry too
much about that, Mattie.

Look, parents
are curious things.

And I'll tell you,
one way or another,

they're with you for life.

Hm.

Well, maybe things will look
a little better in the morning.

Cheers to that.

It was Wendy's.

Ah, wonderful.
Thank you, Mattie.

That'll come in handy.

You know, I should have secured
a sample earlier today from Joseph

- as well.
- Joe? What do you mean?

Oh, he found himself in another
fight, didn't he, at Doyle's place.

And he doesn't
have an alibi, either.

He's in the cells as we speak.

Um, Lucien,

if you see Joe...

make sure he's all right.

Yes.

Yes, of course.

Goodnight, Lucien.

Goodnight, Mattie.

Yeah, it's obvious
Blake's hiding things.

It's like he can't help himself.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, he trusts me.

For now, at least.

Mm-hm

All right. All right, will do.

You forget I'm almost a doctor.

Which would explain why
you're such a lousy patient.

How long are they
going to hold me here?

That I don't know.

Mattie's worried
about you, though.

Mattie?

What should I tell her, Joe?

The prisoner's wanted
upstairs. Come on.

Tell her to stay away.

State your full name.

Joseph Frank Beville.

We've just been
speaking with Colin Doyle.

Don't mind a fight, do you?

He kept accusing
me of k*lling Des.

He calls me a greasy wog.
Says me he doesn't like Italians.

Beville's not a very
Italian name, is it?

It's Anglicized.

So your name's not...

Giuseppe Franco Bevilacqua?

- Not any more.
- And why is that?

- Well, you tell me.
- I will.

It's because your father
was a Mussolini sympathizer.

We emigrated
legally after the w*r.

- And then you joined the CPA.
- I'm not my father!

I joined when I
enrolled at university.

I believe in Communism,
not Fascism.

What did Somerville have on you?

He found out about my father and

threatened to kick
me out of the party.

He said I couldn't be trusted.

Sounds like you had
a motive to k*ll him.

- For that? I don't think so!
- Well, I do think so.

And when I ask you a
question, you best answer it.

We're holding you on
suspicion of m*rder.

Take him back to his cell.

A solid confession
would settle this.

Have a private
chat with him, Davis.

Tell you what, mate,
why don't I get this one?

Lucien, what's happening?

The Superintendent is
questioning Joe as we speak.

Now, I was hoping for some
answers from the saliva tests, but

I still haven't
heard from Alice.

What time did Des die?

Some time before midnight.

Then Joe couldn't have done it.

You sound very
certain about that.

He was with me.

Until four. At Colin
Doyle's house.

Mattie, no-one's
mentioned seeing you there.

That's because
they didn't see me.

Did you give Joe my message?

Yes, I did. He asked me
to tell you to stay out of it.

Well, that's too bad,
I'm going to the station.

Well, I'm coming too.

I'll get the car.

You must be so
disappointed in me.

Mattie, you mustn't think
like that. I'm not your mother.

But there have been times you
haven't approved of my decisions.

No.

Truth be told, there's
actually been times

when I've been
quite envious of you.

The way you don't let
anybody dictate who you are

or where you should go.

I've never been
disappointed in you.

Not for a moment.

Now, come on,
we've got places to go.

Blake, what are you doing here?

I want to make a statement
in the Des Somerville case.

Regarding?

Joe Beville's whereabouts
the night of the m*rder.

I'd like to talk to
Sergeant Davis if I could.

Fine.

Charlie, would you take Mattie
somewhere more private, please?

Of course, Mrs. Beazley.

Come on, Mattie.

Excuse me, sir.

Dr. Harvey's on
the phone for you.

Thank you, Ned.

Alice.

Yes?

What does it say?

Aminophylline?
Are you quite sure?

There's a three o'clock train.

You could have told
us you had an alibi.

I can't believe you
didn't say anything!

I figured you'd come forward
before it came to the gallows.

At least I'd hoped so.

You are a gentleman.

Don't tell anyone.

I wish things were different.

My family situation
is... complicated.

But aren't they all?

You again? I thought I'd
exonerated myself with the coppers.

Far as I know, you have.

Tell me, do you
own a wheelbarrow?

It's in the back.

- Good. Mind if we take a look?
- Why?

Come on, humor me. Anyhow,
if you didn't k*ll Des Somerville,

what have you got to lose?

Wait here.

It's gone.

Of course it has.

Ah, eureka.

Doc!

Here, Charlie.

What have you found?

Just bear with me one moment.

I think Des Somerville
was k*lled right here.

The k*ller put him into
Mr. Doyle's wheelbarrow,

which is now missing, and
transported him to the memorial site.

I'll let the boss know.

Georgie.

Oh, did you hurt yourself?

No, it's nothing.

I think perhaps it
might be everything.

My uncle's waiting.

Des wasn't quite the person
you thought he was, was he?

Probably why everyone thought
he'd make a good politician.

He should have been a Bromley.

He was better at it than me.

Well, you may have a
worker's ideals, Georgie,

but you don't have
a worker's hands.

I know how you
got those blisters.

- I don't know what...
- Why did you do it?

Des was your friend,
your best friend, wasn't he?

- I'm sorry, I have to go.
- It must have been horrific...

seeing your friend's
skull cr*ck open,

the blood pouring
out onto the ground,

realizing that you'd
done this terrible thing,

that you'd k*lled a
man with one blow,

ending his life,
ruining your own.

You destroyed everything
you knew with one punch.

And yet before you hit him,
there was a scuffle, wasn't there?

He held you in a
headlock, didn't he?

But you bit him on the arm.

Georgie.

Georgie, we tested the saliva.

It contained traces
of aminophylline.

That's the active ingredient
in your asthma inhaler.

He was using me.
He even said so.

He laughed in my face and
called me a pathetic rich kid.

Soon as my money stopped,
he just threw me away.

He was playing
everyone, Georgie.

Now, after you struck him,

you moved the body, didn't you?

Georgie, stop.

Don't say another word.

Mr. Farmer.

You knew the whole
time, didn't you?

Georgie was cut off weeks ago,
but you've been protecting him

ever since Des was k*lled,

buying him off the same way
you were trying to buy off Des.

You're as fanatical
as them, Blake.

- Come on, Georgie.
- Is it true?

- Come on, I said.
- Did you pay Des?

- You'll be running forever, Georgie.
- Shut up, Blake.

No, why don't you shut
up? I knew what I was doing.

- I did it.
- Be quiet, you idiot!

I want to confess to the
m*rder of Des Somerville.

Sergeant.

William...

There's been a terrible mix up.

There's nothing to
worry about here.

We both know it's too
late for that, Mr. Farmer.

By the time we're done here,

no magistrate in the country will
even put this case to trial, Munro.

And you know it.

Perhaps, Mr. Farmer, perhaps.

Of course, with
Georgia's confession,

the marks on his
hands... and this...

forensic testing will
match the saliva on this

to the bite mark we
saw on Des's arm.

I'd bet my reputation on it.

Saliva testing?

And when were you
going to tell me about that?

I did try to tell you,
Superintendent,

but you didn't want your report in
two days' time, or three days' time.

You wanted it now.

Sit down.

You have good instincts, Davis.

Thank you, sir.

Finding those prints on the
edge of the barrow you recovered,

on that watering can,
that was nice work.

You know that
wasn't just me, though.

You should be
thanking the Doc as well.

Don't worry, Davis. I'll
thank the doctor in good time.

Right now, I'm
thanking you by asking

how you feel about a transfer back
to Melbourne for detective training.

Bonehead, sir?

That's the one.

You don't have to make
a decision right away.

But have a think about it.

About what's best
for your family.

Mattie.

Your father's here.

Martin, please, come on in.

I'll leave you both
alone for a moment.

Right, well, I'll get
straight to the point.

Your mother and I feel that

it's time that you came
home to Melbourne.

My work is here.

We can change that.

I like it here.

- And I'm studying for my degree.
- It's social work, Matilda.

It's time for you
to settle down,

think about children, marriage.

I'm not sure that's what I want.

Well, what on earth do you want?

I don't want us to keep having
this same fight, over and over.

And neither do I.

Your mother and I, we miss
you and we worry about you.

But you don't have to.
I'm perfectly safe here.

It's not that, Mattie.

Being a parent,

raising you, is the most important
thing that I've ever done and I...

I'd hate to think that you might
miss out on having that for yourself.

Now, your blood results.

Apart from an iron deficiency,
you're as fit as a Mallee bull.

Now, we could talk about iron
injections, but I think diet's best.

Liver would certainly help.

I find food tedious.

Agnes, please, before you go...

Would you mind terribly
if I asked you something?

No time like the
present, Lucien.

I've recently found some...

inconsistencies in my
mother's medical records. Now,

I was always told she
d*ed from appendicitis.

I'm not sure that's the truth.

Lucien,

sometimes if you dig,

you find there's a reason something
was buried in the first place.

That's not going
to stop you, is it?

Your parents...

loved each other very much,

but they were very
different people.

Genevieve was
outgoing and, well,

frankly... she liked a drink.

I can't condemn her for that.

It was the drinking
that k*lled her, Lucien.

Diabetes, you see.

One night they were at a party.

Genevieve was
having a nice time.

Too nice a time,
as it turned out.

Thomas found it
tiresome and he left.

It wasn't a problem.
He often did that.

She overdid things
by quite some margin.

And before anyone
could do anything,

she was gone.

Diabetic coma, I was told.

No-one ever told you?

No.

No, I...

But thank you, Agnes, thank you.

I s'pose I'm just a bit...

Well, I feel as if I
didn't know them at all.

Oh, smells delicious.

- Well, Jean's a great cook.
- Well,

the proof is in the tasting.

Lucien? Are you all right?

Yes. Yes, of course.

- Looks wonderful, Jean.
- Thank you.

Right.

Who's for some chook?