(Groans)
Alice!
(Groans)
You don't understand, Dot.
(Groans)
You don't understand at all.
Help me...
If it isn't the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher!
About time!
How are the Antipodes?
They've missed you desperately. So they damn well should.
Oh, travelling light again.
Must be some advantage to a sea voyage
otherwise I would have joined the Avro air race.
Paper!
What are your intentions? You've had three months at sea to ponder.
Well, I intend to leave my family as far behind as possible.
I think you've managed that. Next?
Well, I could learn Abyssinian.
Or perfect my barefoot dancing.
We both know why you're here.
Darling, you can't bring Janey back.
(Knock on door)
But I can stop him doing it again.
Premier Hogan is a regular guest of this establishment.
Straight to the top, then.
Miss Fisher?
Thank you.
A luncheon. Today?!
With Lydia Andrews. How lovely.
Oh. And Aunt Prudence.
Shame I have to perform an urgent bowel operation.
Miss Phryne Fisher to see Miss Lydia Andrews.
She's expecting me.
Sorry, Miss... Fisher.
The luncheon's been cancelled due to a family tragedy.
What kind of tragedy?
Mr Andrews passed away this morning.
Oh, Phryne!
Awful this, all this.
It's alright.
If there's anything I can do.
He just collapsed.
Well, we thought it was his heart
but then the police have been here all morning.
Poor darling man.
Dear, we need tea.
Aunt Prudence. Phryne, dear.
(Sighs) Hardly recognised the child in you.
Apart from the length of your skirt.
Whereas you haven't changed one jot, Aunt Prudence.
Smooth passage? So far.
Have you seen a doctor? You look terribly pale.
I've felt dreadful, even before John collapsed.
As if I knew something was coming.
Excuse me, madam.
That detective wants to speak with you again.
So what on earth happened?
Now, you know I'm not one to pry
but I couldn't help overhearing in the hallway.
It seems that John collapsed suddenly
after a light breakfast of tea and cumquat marmalade toast.
And the maid found him purple in the face and cold to the touch
on the bathroom floor.
The police obviously suspect his death had a helping hand.
I'm sorry, the inspector would like all visitors to leave
so that he may question the household.
Very well.
Excuse me.
Uh, excuse me, miss. Your...
Ta, then. Uh, excuse me, miss!
You can't... Oh! I just need the powder room.
I... No, I'm sorry but my instructions...
No-one's to pass this point.
I understand perfectly.
Though, my bladder may not.
I'll just... I'll just check with the inspector.
Just...
(Knock on door)
This lavatory's fully occupied!
MAN: Police! Open up.
(Knock on door)
You must be the inspector.
Apologies for my urgent call of nature.
This is the scene of a crime.
Well, lucky for you, I'm wearing gloves.
Miss Phryne Fisher.
I assume you weren't close to the deceased.
Never had the pleasure but by all accounts he was charming.
Do you think it was poison?
Most likely... We are yet to determine the cause of death.
Miss Fisher, I appreciate your curiosity for crime.
Well, every lady needs a hobby. But please...
Given the lack of blood stains, I assume it wasn't a violent death
unless of course it was strangulation
but the foetal position of the victim outline,
although not terribly well executed, indicates a degree of pain
rather than the flailing limbs one might associate with a struggle.
And then of course there's the fact that death occurred after breakfast
according to Mrs Andrews which suggests something ingested?
Oh, wild surmise, of course.
Of course. Now... Do you have a card?
In case I need to call the police.
Because I'm a woman alone.
Newly arrived in a dangerous town.
I plan to make this town less dangerous, Miss Fisher.
Good.
I do like a man with a plan.
Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.
Taxi!
Richmond. She'll give you any directions.
Keep the change.
Where do you live, sweetheart?
Hey, wakey-wakey.
Wake up, love!
Oh, no, Bert. She's bleeding all over me bleeding upholstery.
(Phone rings)
LYDIA: Telephone, Dot!
Dorothy!
Sorry, madam, the caller stopped calling.
Let me know if I can help with the funeral arrangements.
Thank you. I can highly recommend the people who lay down Edward.
Lydia. Sasha!
I heard the terrible news.
Oh. Apologies, Mrs Stanley.
My manners, well, they have deserted me.
Oh, it's quite alright, Sasha. We're all distraught.
May I present my niece, the Honourable Miss Fisher.
Pleased to meet you. Enchante.
My God! The soiree. Oh!
(Sighs) Lydia has planned a charity soiree for tomorrow evening.
Sasha is engaged to dance for us. Uh, yes, but now I...
No, everything must be cancelled of course.
If only the hospital committee weren't absolutely depending on it.
Tell them Lydia's just been widowed.
If only she weren't so good at raising thousands of pounds.
And goodness knows how we're to contact the guest list in time.
Her guests will understand.
John would want us to go ahead with it.
I know, Phryne and I will take over all the arrangements
and host the entire evening on your behalf, won't we, Phryne?
Thank you, Prudence.
I feel so...
Oh, my... Lydia! Maid!
What's her name? Maid!
Get her to bed. I'm going to call a doctor.
Lydia! Attend to her at once.
Goodness.
You said the husband was fatally poisoned at breakfast.
Well, that's one theory.
Do you think Lydia could have been slipped something too?
Headache, palpitations, vomiting and...
You said she looked a little blotchy?
Could be caused by anything. Including Aunt Prudence.
Medicinal? As it comes. Thank you.
I mean, the old favourite's arsenic of course
but half a gram of strychnine will do the trick.
I found these in the bathroom cabinet.
Hmm.
Looks like a nerve powder, usually prescribed for women of course,
the hysterical sex, for nervous exhaustion,
emotional collapse, wandering wombs, that sort...
Why on Earth would a womb wander?
Unnatural behaviour will do it according to Hippocrates.
Like celibacy. Oh, good. Mine's not going anywhere.
(Knock on door) Hmm.
Excuse me. Dr Macmillan, the Women's Hospital telephoned.
They need you urgently.
Where's the patient, sister? I've put her in Maternity.
These two gentlemen picked her up in their cab.
Good thing you came straight here by the sound of it.
MAN: Will she be alright?
Uh, no men in the wards. Thank you.
That's good.
Some amateurs tried to take away her troubles.
She's just a child.
Got herself into some grown-up trouble, eh?
I'm sure Dr Macmillan will do her best.
How much to the Windsor? 5s should do it.
Nice try. I'm prepared to pay you two and six.
Reckon it was that bloke we saw?
What, there was someone with her?
Just some dumb egg told to get shot of her.
No, no, the other joke around the corner.
He's a lofty beggar, around 6', I reckon.
And something flashed in his paw as he tucked his head down,
maybe a ring on his finger or something?
Forget the Windsor, we need the police.
And I've just met a rather civilised detective.
You and your strays - lost cats, injured mongrels
and now it's fallen bloody women.
Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.
City South Police Station.
Yeah, we know him.
That's him.
George Fletcher.
Butcher George? That's the one.
Miss Fisher. And if it isn't the Red Raggers.
Still fighting the capless menace?
Your time will come. Oppressor of the widow and orphan.
I hate to interrupt the class war, but who is Butcher George?
George Fletcher was a doctor. Once upon a time.
But now we suspect he's behind a local abortion racket.
If you know so much about him, why haven't you arrested him?
If you delivered him tied up in brown paper and string,
I still couldn't arrest him.
The ones who die can't talk and the ones who live won't talk.
What's the penalty for procuring an abortion?
Ten to 15 years according to the book.
Who's gonna open their trap for that?
Lenin made Soviet abortion legal in 1920.
I'm going back to the hospital.
I wish I could change the laws for you, Miss Fisher.
You can't? Fine.
I'll just have to find a way around them.
Good day, Inspector.
DISTANT VOICES: ..B, C, D,
E, F, G, H,
I, J, K, L,
M, N, O, P,
Q, R, S, T,
U, V, W, X, Y...
(Distant echoing laughter)
..six, not because dirty, not because I'm clean.
Just because I stole some bread behind the window seat.
Girls, girls have a lot of fun.
Here comes Phryne with... Don't, Janey!
(Both laugh)
Should I know you?
My sister's ribbon.
Miss Fisher.
Is still miss?
I'm deeply sorry I couldn't tell your family what you needed to know.
Then tell me now.
I have never confessed to the crime you want me to be guilty of.
And my time here is nearly up.
And here I am.
I've come halfway around the world
to make sure that you never get out of here alive.
Death is only a torment for those who believe
it is the end of all things.
I'm not a child anymore, Mr Foyle, so I won't play your lofty games.
Whatever horrors you visited on her, I have imagined tenfold.
And given the chance,
I would do the same to you without smearing my lipstick.
Has she given you any details about what happened?
They never do - either fell down the stairs
or claim to be completely mystified.
This one's not even offering her name.
No clues in her purse?
You don't have to save the world, Phryne.
Where are her things?
'Who would wholeheartedly recommend Miss Hartley...'
John Andrews.
LIVELY MUSIC
(Chattering)
I smuggled this upstairs.
I recommend you swallow at least a bucketful.
Oh, sorry, miss.
(Kisses)
You seem to be coping better than your maid.
Aunt Prudence said you had to let the last one go.
Oh, yes. It was unpleasant but trivial.
What, trouble with the telephone like this one?
John caught her stealing the silver cruet set
and I agreed he should dismiss her.
Do you think she'd have any information about the household
that might help the police?
Unlikely.
Alice was a timid thing. She went quietly enough.
Drink up.
(Jazz plays, chatter, laughter)
Phryne, darling! (Chuckles)
You look divine!
And I found you a charming dental technician.
Very thoughtful.
I do appreciate you weren't born to wealth.
At least your mother came from good stock.
It's just unfortunate she ran off with your father.
Lucky then the Great War laid waste to his titled cousins.
Yes... Well, no-one likes a war.
Do you think anyone here would want to harm Lydia or her husband?
Don't be absurd!
You're looking at the cream of Melbourne society.
Apart from Clementine Smythe over there.
She snaffled Lydia's upholsterer just when she needed him the most.
And Tilda Higginbottom, by the punch, as usual.
But that one - she takes the biscuit.
Practically runs a bordello.
Hello there, Prudence.
Madame Breda!
May I present my niece, the Honourable Phryne Fisher.
How do you do? Madame Breda.
Madame Breda has a little establishment
at the far end of the city.
A Turkish bath palace, Miss Fisher.
How interesting.
I'm a devoted patron of the London Hummum.
You should try it, Aunt Prudence.
No, thank you, my dear.
I shall remain all the cleaner for staying away.
(Chuckles) Excuse me.
Terrible news about John Andrews.
I've been a loyal customer of his for years.
What line of business was he in?
Importing from the Orient.
Cosmetics, manchester, the most beautiful rugs.
He adored Lydia,
though he had less time for her endless social events
and her more colourful friends.
Like who?
Like the adorable Sasha De Lisse.
Mademoiselle est magnifique.
Now I recall.
I saw you dancing in Paris five years ago with your sister.
(Chuckles) Death And The Maiden.
It was primitive and spine-chilling!
My sister unfortunately passed away some months ago.
My condolences.
I am still unused to dancing without her.
Do you tango, Miss Fisher?
(Band plays) MAN: Ladies and gentlemen,
presenting Sasha De Lisse.
(Band continues playing)
(Tango continues playing)
We've been trying to reach Mrs Andrews,
but something seems to be wrong with your telephone.
(Tango plays)
(Applause)
MAN: Bravo.
Excuse me, madam. Yes?
The, um... police need to speak with Mrs Andrews again.
Should I call her down?
Poison?
The coroner found traces of arsenic when he examined your husband
and your own symptoms seem to be consistent with a milder dose.
Do you know where it came from?
The sugar bowl with the breakfast tray was laced with rat poison.
(Gasps) John always took so much sugar in his tea.
Thank God I didn't finish my own.
We've been informed your housemaid prepares the morning tray.
That's correct, but...
We'll need to ask Miss Williams a few questions at the station.
You don't seriously suspect this poor child of murder?!
Actually, I was studiously avoiding that term, Miss Fisher.
If you find yourself in legal trouble,
I know a clever woman who might help.
Thank you, Miss.
I can't imagine what grudge that poor girl might have against us.
(Car engines rattle in distance)
I hope we have the pleasure to meet again, Miss Fisher.
I'm sure that can be arranged.
Au revoir.
Lydia seems calmer now.
If only this awful poisoning business was resolved,
she could busy herself with a wake.
Yes, that could cheer her up.
My earrings!
That man was far too charming.
What's the hurry? My driver's on his way.
I'll explain later. Goodnight, Aunt Prudence.
At this hour? It's not safe!
Why do you think you can just run off on your own?
Because I'm carrying a gun!
Phryne!
Good evening. I need to buy cocaine.
I can pay you with these.
(Rings service bell)
(Indistinct speaking)
What's your story, huh?
How did you know? Get away! I warn you!
Get back! He's got a blade. Steady, steady.
Steady, steady on.
MAN: Where's your gun? Go after him!
He's getting away! Alright, alright!
(Clattering and banging)
He's not here. Nothing. Come on.
(Bottles clang)
(Pants)
(Gunfire)
(Dog barks)
(Gasps)
It is me, Sasha. Mademoiselle, help me.
(Voices in background)
In here. Not a sound.
Down.
(Men shout in distance)
Come on!
(Broad accent) Evening, gentlemen. Looking for a frolic?
(Lighter clicks)
(Hoof beats in background)
Yeah, we're looking for a fella.
Seen a man run through here?
Nah, but I seen plenty lying down.
Come on. This scrag's no use.
How much, darling?
Depends, sweetheart. Show us your tackle.
Move away.
The coast is clear. (Groans) Sasha!
I thought the bullet missed me.
(Groans)
Wonderful.
You're not badly hurt.
But you may have ruined one of the most stunning gowns
Melbourne will ever see.
Why did you steal my earrings?
To pay for cocaine.
That's a dangerous habit
if you're going to be shot in the process.
You should not assume it is my habit.
My reasons were personal.
So were my earrings.
What did you say to the pharmacist?
I asked to meet the King of Snow,
the mastermind of the cocaine business in this town.
Melbourne has certainly become more interesting in my absence.
Life has been hard since we were forced from Russia.
Too hard for my sister.
She became addicted to cocaine and lost her way.
She took her own life.
How awful.
But Lydia was very good to both of us.
But I gather her husband was not a ballet enthusiast.
I never cared for John Andrews. Hmm.
You think I was having a love affair with your friend?
It is not true.
She's too demure for my attentions.
Whereas you...
(Groans)
(Knock on door)
I'm s... I'm so sorry, Miss Fisher,
but I didn't know where else to go.
I've been dismissed without a reference
and I think I need that clever woman you talked about.
You'd better come in.
(Sniffles)
The, um... matching Mary Jane's up there if you're looking, Miss.
Thank you.
My dance instructor was perfecting my develope.
Now, sit down, have some toast, tell me everything.
The police asked me so many questions
about Mr Andrews it made me giddy.
About what kind of gentleman he was, what kind of boss.
How he treated us household staff.
And what did you tell them?
Well, I couldn't lie.
I'm a Catholic.
I said he was all hands and tried to pin me against the range
and have his way in the kitchen the night before he died.
I told them how he did the same to Alice
and how she took off the morning they found him.
Now I'm worried they're going to blame Alice as well.
Was Alice in the family way to her employer?
To John Andrews?
I can't help you if you won't tell me the truth.
It was a woman who helped me. Her name was Madame Breda.
I've met her. And where did Madame Breda send you?
I couldn't tell. The van had no windows.
But the door off the lane was green. I remember that.
And when I came to, I could smell food, like a bakery, I think.
(Coughing in background)
She said he was a doctor.
(Clock ticks)
(Door closes)
Sorry, Miss Fisher. It was by the bath. I just...
Not at all! Phryne will do.
I washed and pressed your clothes
and I mended those stockings for you.
(Chuckles)
You have a very fine hand, Dot!
It's my gift, Miss... Phryne.
I had more trouble getting those bloodstains off that lovely gown, though.
(Gasps) Genius!
And I found this under the bed.
Oh! Thank you!
A marvellous device invented by
a thoroughly modern woman called Marie Stopes.
Family planning.
Oh! I could do with a maid.
Though you'll probably want your old position back
once this fuss has blown over and Mrs Andrews is back to her old self.
No, not for all the tea in China.
Even without Mr Andrews,
there's still the electric iron to worry about.
And the vacuum cleaner, and the new washing machine.
Don't they save you labour?
Yes, but at what cost, Miss?
My priest says it's unnatural putting electricity through wires.
Sooner or later, it'll come in contact
with the molten centre of the earth and will blow up the whole world.
Well... if you work for me,
you'll have to answer the telephone promptly.
And I might need you on occasion to bend the Ten Commandments.
Um... Like when?
Today.
And how important is the telephone?
Extremely.
Now, get your coat. We're off to the Turkish baths.
(Knock on door)
Come in.
Madame Breda.
Do you remember me?
You're Lydia's maid, aren't you?
I need your help. I know you helped Alice and...
Oh, not you too.
John Andrews?
LYDIA: Thank you for drawing me out of the house.
I feel so much better here.
It's hardly the bordello Aunt Prudence fears.
Madame Breda has been one of John's best customers.
Lydia...
How much did you know about your husband's business dealings?
Not enough. I've never had a head for figures.
I may have to take over the reins all the same.
Do you think the attempt on your lives
could have something to do with a retaliation
after a falling out with a customer?
I don't know what you mean.
Could John have gotten mixed up in some business dealings
you weren't aware of?
Did he tell you everything?
I loved John, Phryne.
His death has left me bereft.
I'm not ready yet to pick over his bones.
Of course not.
(Tea cups clang)
No, just black for me.
Of course.
(Hoof beats)
Here she comes.
I had to miss my second pummelling,
so I hope you've got something to report.
She made me pay 10 and said to give this to the doctor.
She said not to open and that...
that I have to meet them on the corner of the laneway
near Johnson's Hatters at 7:00am wearing a red rose.
Sounds risky.
Well, if someone hadn't done away with John Andrews,
it could've been me in that hospital.
It's the very least I can do... for Alice.
Now all we need's a red rose.
It's packaged exactly the same way as the Paterson's Powders
I souvenired from Lydia's bathroom.
The pink's only a vegetable dye with a nerve powder.
It's most likely a narcotic base, like opium,
or a stimulant, like cocaine.
Is it legal like that?
Not from a Turkish bath house. You need a doctor's prescription.
If Madame Breda's using it to pay off unsavoury types,
then my bet is cocaine.
Definitely cocaine.
I'm the doctor.
Just to make sure.
What has this all to do with Butcher George
and backyard abortions?
I'm not sure yet, Mac,
but I think it's time somebody found out.
(Hoof beats, children yell and chatter)
Let us have a look. Open up.
Yeah. Come on.
Give them a head start.
(Starter motor whirrs)
They'll get a ruddy head start, alright!
(Starter motor whirrs)
Remind me to buy you a new taxi when this is over.
(Motor starts) Eureka!
Stop!
Come on, come on, come on!
Proctor's Pies! Alice said she smelled baking. Turn down there.
(Footsteps approach)
(Door opens)
Hello there, girly!
My name's Doctor George.
And I'll be relieving you of your little burden.
MAN: There's the van. Hurry.
We're looking for a green door.
Come on, love. It's only nerves.
No, it's not. Just leave me...
You've got the collywobbles! I've seen it all before.
Come on - up on the table.
Let's lie down good and quiet, hmm?
Damn it! Where the hell have they gone?
Let's see how far gone you are.
No! Easy!
(Cries) I'm not far gone. I'm not even gone at all.
What's your caper?
It's gotta be close! Over here.
I'll take this side.
Sit! Give us a hand.
(Whimpers and yells)
Nothing. Oh, Dot!
This'll calm her down. HELP! HELP ME!
Upstairs! (Dot screams)
(Thwack!) (Groans)
Get away from that girl, both of you!
Hands toward heaven!
Up, you idiot.
So you're the animal who took the knife to Alice Hartley?
Cec, what have you got to say to this man?
My sentiments exactly.
Now all we need is some brown paper and string
and these two gentlemen can deliver you to the police.
But first, you're going to tell me exactly how you know Madame Breda.
Won't Alice still have to confess? Don't worry, Dot.
Cec will have to tell the police that she paid Butcher George money
and then changed her mind, but he wouldn't listen.
Is that what happened?
More or less.
That was the most perilous day of my entire life.
Even worse than being a murder suspect.
But the cocoa helps. I'm glad about that, Dot.
'Cause you need to be brave a little longer.
Why?
You'll be safe enough here,
but if I don't return by midnight, you might have to call the police.
On the telephone?
I'm afraid so.
Cheerio! (Kisses)
(Door closes)
(Telephone buzzes electrically)
Now, there's a familiar figure.
You sure about that bloke?
Not entirely. French-Russian extraction.
We've only met... socially.
I'm definitely not sure about those two.
Bastard extraction. We've only met up a dark alley.
They're going into Madame Breda's.
Come on.
(Clanging)
(Hoof beats in distance)
Up there. The balcony. We could get over it.
Here, hold this.
(Hoof beats approach)
Give me a leg up.
Is that all I can do for you?
You might go for help. Things could get interesting around here.
I thought they already were.
(Grunts with exertion)
(Door opens)
Oi, what's your lark?
Get back here!
(Clattering)
(Door closes)
(Man speaks indistinctly) MAN 2: What are you doing?
(Thudding and punching)
Stop it!
(Speaks indistinctly)
(Grunting and groaning)
You bastards!
I kill you!
I kill you and your mother!
(Speaks indistinctly)
Don't move!
(Grunts)
You're that tart we met the night we shot this dago in the alley.
She knows nothing. Let her go and do what you like with me!
I paid to speak with your boss. Have you no honour?
Don't worry, mate. You'll get your chat with the king.
(Laughs)
And what will you do in the meeting?
Kill him.
Unless somebody's already beaten you to it.
What do you mean?
The drugs are coming in through JA Imports.
It's John Andrews' company.
So that is what amused those thugs?
That I would meet the king in the afterlife?
(Door opens)
Lydia?
They told me you had a floozy.
I didn't think it would be you.
But how?
Lydia poisoned her husband after he had his way with her maid.
It wasn't just his philandering.
Of course not. I know you better than that.
And Madame Breda sorted the pregnancy
like she sorted all your other grubby business.
You helped us. We danced for all your friends.
Why did you do it?
Not all of us did so well out of the war, Phryne.
You inherited a title, but my family lost everything.
And then I met John and he was wealthy, charming.
Far too charming.
And in the end, a hopeless businessman
and an utter embarrassment.
I rescued us from bankruptcy and disgrace.
And I built an empire.
All I wanted was my own life back,
but John wouldn't let me have it.
Judge me, if you like.
But I saved myself.
What a shame it took a life of crime for you to find your strength, Lydia.
Haven't you become a dreary crusader.
I'm sure your demise will fix that.
Strip them.
(Clock ticks)
(Electrical buzzing)
How long can we last in here?
A lot longer if you stay calm.
(Sighs)
(Groans)
Miss Fisher needs you down at the Turkish baths in Little Lonsdale.
I hope she's comfortable. She could be waiting a long time.
(Clock ticks)
Sasha.
Sasha, don't fall asleep.
I told you - Cokey and The Bull.
They dragged off this Russian dago and she went after him.
Some commo friend of yours, was he?
If only my eyes could focus in this fog.
(Sighs)
If the steam's piped in, we just need to pipe it out again.
(Clanging and scraping)
(Sizzles)
(Clock chimes)
(Dials)
(Phone rings)
City South police station. Constable Collins speaking.
Yep...
Inspector!
Sir, it's Miss Williams on the telephone.
She said Miss Fisher's in some kind of trouble.
(Sirens wail)
OK, you two, take the front and side entrances.
I'll take the rear with Collins and Foster.
Let's break down this door. Let's go!
(Banging and thudding)
(Sighs)
Sasha. Sasha, don't fall asleep.
Wake up!
(Faint voices in distance)
MAN: Stand back!
Glad you could make it, Inspector.
I'm a little more steamed up than I wanted to be.
I always wondered what went on in a Turkish bath house.
(Groans) Come on, then!
(Groans) Tell me how clever you are.
Now, what made you think Lydia Andrews was the murderer?
Well, firstly, she kept declaring her love for John Andrews,
when we all knew he was a cad.
You could put that down to marital delusion.
Then when she protested that she had no head for business,
though she raised thousands of pounds for the hospital fund.
I tried to put that down as false modesty.
Even when she accused Alice of stealing the cruet set,
though I'd read her glowing reference.
I had hoped it was her husband's lie.
Of course, the other suspects helped.
There was Madame Breda, but she was too obvious.
And she pointed the finger at Sasha De Lisse,
so I was forced to discount him as Lydia's jealous lover
with my own... thorough investigation.
(Clicks fingers)
Sorry. Where was I?
Oh, the tea! That's what really bothered me.
She drank just enough sweetened tea
to remove suspicion, poisoning herself,
when I know she always took her tea without sugar.
Must get a wriggle on, Miss, or you'll be late for Premier Hogan.
Just a light chat about the criminal justice system.
(Children sing rhyme)
(Children continue singing)
(Door slams)
Miss, about the job, I don't know what my priest will think
of your... guns and knives and...
dancing.
Considering your last employers were a drug baroness and a rapist,
surely you'd find me a modest improvement.
I...
Cec, Bert, how lovely.
Sit down and have some champagne.
Inspector Robinson and Constable Collins,
what a lovely surprise!
Your handbag, Miss Fisher.
And when you're fully hydrated, I'd like a private word.
Thank you. But feel free amongst my private friends. We're celebrating.
Five minutes after your timely escape from the Turkish Bath Palace,
the steam room exploded in a ball of flames
due to a back-up in the pipes,
resulting in an inferno
attended by every fire truck in the metropolitan area.
Luckily, there were no fatalities.
One less bordello?
This is not a game, Miss Fisher.
Of course not. Now, raise a glass to my new business.
What kind of business?
To my oldest friend's newest enterprise,
the Honourable Miss Fisher, lady detective.
(Chokes)
I do like the sound of that.
SWING