Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (2012) s02e11 Episode Script
Dead Air
And I'm not keeping quiet.
No.
No, keep away! Get back! No, get away! Let go! Help! How many stations can it pick up? Only 3JH, I'm afraid.
That's how a restricted licence works That's perfect.
May I ask what's so particular about this 3JH? It has The Polkinghorns.
A girl who went to my school helps to make it.
Now it's time to revisit our daily serial, At Home With The Polkinghorns.
A New Day.
That sounds like the taxi now.
Maurice .
.
it must be our Guinevere, home in time for her 21st birthday.
Who's Guinevere? Their daughter.
Look outside, Maurice - our Guinevere.
Where is she? Ssh! I .
.
don't want to see her after what she did.
What did she do? Ran off with an Italian opera singer.
We've all done that.
But we are on air.
(Come on!) Whatever is keeping that maid? She's dead.
Who's dead? Louisa, outside.
Just turn the blasted thing off! L Louisa Singleton is the girl I know.
Radios claim newspaper war.
Out now in the Argus.
Ah, Miss Fisher.
How did you know? We were listening to the wireless.
Louisa was going to do so many wonderful things.
Miss Fisher, detective, and my assistant, Miss Williams.
Jimmy Creswick, station manager, And this is Louisa? Yes, our Girl Friday, Miss Louisa Singleton.
How awful.
They said they'd get us.
Who did? Hazel, love, come inside and calm down.
Looks like she was strangled.
Such a shame, one so young.
Terrible.
Time of death, 6:40pm, if we assume she was wearing these clothes yesterday and her watch was in good working order.
Thank you.
I'll take it from here.
Step back, please.
Thank you.
Step right back, please.
Where's Inspector Robinson? He's He's on another job.
We'd be happy to assist you, Hugh.
Miss Singleton was a school friend of Dot's.
She'd never forgive me if I didn't help.
Miss? The other job the Inspector's on .
.
he's uncover and it's confidential.
Sounds intriguing.
Come on, Dot.
Yes, exactly the same outfit that she was in yesterday.
We just thought she was late this morning.
Even though Louisa was never late.
Today of all days.
Playing Guinevere in The Polkinghorns was her big step up.
Is there anyone who might have wanted to harm Miss Singleton? No.
Louisa put all her efforts into her work.
Top girl.
She kept the books neat, typed up all our scripts.
She broke it off with her fiance in Perth when she was offered the job at 3JH.
Are any of these coats Louisa's? Yes, the cloak.
I can scribe, if you like.
So no grudges, threats? Not against her in particular.
There were telephone calls a few days ago.
Hazel took one, Louisa the other.
It was a man.
He warned us to shut down the station or he'd do it himself.
We've been expecting trouble.
There have been attacks on other radio stations.
From our brightest night to our darkest day.
Hazel was crowned Best Female Talent last night at the Australian Recorded Performance Awards.
Oh, no! Oh, Oswald.
Come now, Hazel.
It's only a goldfish.
It was probably his time.
Sorry.
I'm not normally like this.
Good morning.
This is the Ten O'clock News.
From July, electric trams will run from the eastern suburbs.
That voice! This is predicted not only to alleviate traffic in the centre but bring new shoppers to the city, where they can enjoy a splendid array of stores and restaurants that cater to all tastes.
Mr Archibald Jones, he of the dulcet tones.
Wherever did you find him? We didn't.
The board of 3JH decided last week to offer an hourly news service.
We wanted to train Clarence for the role but management hired Mr Jones.
Why don't you go and have a sit-down, love? You've had a shock.
You're right, darling.
I do feel slightly shattered.
She couldn't get out more than two words in front of a microphone when I first met her.
Perhaps having a private detective around would reassure her, a discreet presence.
If you ask me, the one to look out for is that bloke.
I wouldn't trust him as far as I could spit.
There will be more news in the next hour, so please stay tuned.
Shortly, Clarence Ball will be with you for the daily sporting news.
But first, a musical interlude.
Before you say anything, Archibald Thank goodness you're here.
I need you to move in on this case.
Collins can't handle this alone.
Is this Jack Robinson speaking, or are you still incognito? You want me to ride shotgun over Hugh I wish you wouldn't put it quite like that.
You could ask nicely.
Want me to beg? This may never happen again.
Please.
I'm stuck here, keeping an eye on things.
Not a very keen eye.
Someone was killed at 6:40pm, to be precise.
I was reporting to Commissioner Hall last night.
Four radio stations from Melbourne and Sydney have been shut down in the last six months.
They've been robbed, vandalised or set alight.
Well, we both know who has the most to lose, with radio taking off.
Newspapers.
Why buy a newspaper if you've already heard the headlines on the wireless? But you suspect an inside job? Clarence Ball - foley man, piano player, sports presenter.
Left radio station 3XL one week before it burned to the ground after a series of menacing phone calls.
Suspiciously good timing.
Let's have a look at the Corroborree Maiden first.
In the seventh, my pick is Paschal Vaya, number two.
In the eighth, we're looking at number five Clarence Ball's On The Track.
I've heard a lot about this.
What's so remarkable about these tips? Not very good odds, some of them.
I'm with you.
These are just all the favourites.
The barman at the pub is making a packet out of this bloke.
Col swears by him.
Tune in this afternoon at the usual time for Hall Of Fame - your chance to guess our Mare of the Moment.
Nah.
We're missing something with this joker.
The results of the last race came in on the wire at 6:55, then the station closed at seven.
You were the last to leave the office? That's right.
Jimmy and Hazel left at 5:30 to go to a fancy awards do.
Looks like Mrs Creswick has really made 3JH a success story.
Best Female Talent on Melbourne Radio You'd be surprised how many punters tune in to my sporting news, even more to my live race calls.
But you haven't been at the statio for long, have you? Where were you previously? Radio 3XL.
I had quite a following there too.
That station closed down, didn't it? A fire, I believe.
Before my time.
Difference of opinion.
Back to Miss Singleton, what time did she leave the office last night? She made me a cuppa before my shift.
Then there was no sign of her when the evening session finished at seven.
What was Louisa working on? Jingles, ideas for shows, stories.
I told her it was a complete waste of time.
Hazel made damn sure she wrote every word that went to air.
She didn't think Louisa was up to the task? You'd have to ask Hazel that.
Did they ever disagree, to your knowledge? Hazel's been tricky lately.
Louisa wouldn't be the only one she's crossed swords with.
You'd better cooperate, Archie.
Jimmy already thinks you did it.
What? You are behaving very suspiciously.
Clarence had the opportunity to murder Louisa.
He could easily slip out of the studio in a musical interlude.
Hazel and Louisa didn't get on.
Creative competition.
Have you seen a running order anywhere? We're in such a mess without Louisa.
Here it is.
Oh, thank goodness.
Perhaps Dot could be of some help.
That would be wonderful.
I'll show you what needs to be done.
So, do the police have any ideas? Could be anyone.
You know the type who hang around here.
Like who? That bloke from the newspaper stand for one.
Louisa complained about him waltzing in here whenever he felt like it.
I only wish I'd taken more notice and done something about him.
There you go.
Thanks, cobber.
Argus, thanks.
So, you knew Louisa pretty well? I'd hoped to know her even better.
I asked her to go dancing a couple of times.
She turned you down? Only twice.
I was still in with a chance.
I could tell by the way she liked to tick me off.
I saw her last night too.
She bought a bun from me.
Said she was going back to work.
Maybe you should tell the cops.
I'm not getting mixed up with the cops, and it won't bring Louisa back.
Hooroo.
Get your papers here! Paper! Are you sure there's nothing we've missed, Hugh? She wanted to marry that bloke in Perth, but she had her heart set on radio.
Yes, Louisa, she left school at 15, like me, but she was always smart.
Well, you must be smart too, assisting a lady detective.
Rightio, let's test you.
Guess this bird.
Gonk, gonk! Gonk! I give up.
That is the black swan, the official bird of Western Australia.
But I made you smile, didn't I? Deeply affected by your colleague's passing, are you? What's your problem, Constable? I've told you everything I know.
Why didn't you hear any disturbance in the alley last night? There could have been heavy mortar fire outside and I wouldn't have heard a thing.
That studio is completely soundproof.
Help! Constable, help, quickly! Oh, Jimmy! Stay back, Hazel.
Don't touch it! What happened? The microphone.
I got a shock.
Stand back, please.
Turn off the power.
There's a fuse box in the hall.
All clear.
Is there a first-aid box? It's fine.
I'll be alright.
They tried to get you.
They're going to knock us all off, I know it.
The same thing happened at 2WA.
I'm sure it's nothing more than a silly accident.
Tell her, Miss Fisher.
I'd like to agree, but The wires have been deliberately frayed.
No, sir.
Inspector Robinson prevented the electrocution himself.
Yes.
Yes, sir.
I'll pass on the message.
Thank you, sir.
Right away.
Looking right at home there, Hugh.
In your haste to follow the Inspector's orders, you left Louisa Singleton's notebook behind.
Thank you, Miss.
How did that happen? We thought you might need some help going through Louisa's things.
The Inspector's secret stash! Miss Well done, Hugh.
Mm, delicious.
A packet of matches, thanks.
And, ah, this came for you.
Special delivery.
Thanks.
I've been expecting that.
Paper! Look at this.
Why would Louisa buy an interstate train ticket? An overnight sleeper to Sydney booked for next week.
No return.
Clarence Ball said Hazel didn't like any of Louisa's ideas, but this is the Polkinghorns episode they played this morning.
Maybe she was just transcribing for Hazel.
Look, it says, 'Written by Miss Louisa Singleton.
' If all of those stories were Louisa's ideas and Hazel was taking all the glory, I don't blame her for trying to leave That radio awards night, it didn't begin until 7:00pm but the Creswicks left the studio at 5:30.
That's plenty of time for a detour.
We need a quiet word with Hazel, a casual tete-a-tete.
Bring the car around, Dot.
Tea For Two.
What better, after a woman's long day of household toils and a man's daily battles with the world than a steaming brew for two of Tilley's tea? To celebrate hearth and home .
.
no matter who comes calling, or prepare for an evening of loving companionship with the little ones tucked safely in bed.
Tilley's tea, proud sponsor of 3JH Radio, is made for relaxation and rejuvenation, just for you.
Tilley's tea is tip-top tea from the very best tips to your teapot.
If I could borrow that typewriter, I could type these notes for you.
Thanks, Dottie.
You know, if I do well on this case, I'm one step closer to a promotion, which means we can afford to get married.
Then wise-cracking bird impersonators won't be so free and easy when you're Mrs Hugh Collins.
How are we going to tell your mother, Hugh? I don't care.
We'll get married in a Catholic church.
I'll convert.
But that would break your mother's heart.
I'm sure if we tell Miss Phryne, she'll help us find a solution.
Can't we work it out ourselves? That's what we'll have to do when you don't work for her anymore.
Pardon? Once we set a date and you give notice, Miss Fisher's going to have to do without you.
Without me? Give up my job? Right.
Dot! Mr Creswick.
I was expecting your wife.
Hazel sends her apologies, but she wasn't up to the car trip.
You thought Miss Williams could help out with our typing.
Of course.
I'd be happy to help.
Thank you, Dot.
While you're here, I would like a quiet word about Louisa.
Of course.
It seems she dedicated most of her evenings to writing for radio, but nothing of hers has been to air? Louisa was very ambitious, but she had no training as a writer.
She was needed far more as a typist.
Hazel only writes in longhand.
Then how do you explain this - this morning's episode, word for word, in Louisa's personal notebook? Really? Well, perhaps she copied it from one of Hazel's scripts for some reason, to learn from or Plagiarism? I hope that's not what it was.
Could that be why Hazel argued with her? Any arguments they had couldn't have been more than a tiff.
We work in very close quarters, and disagreements are bound to happen.
Did Louisa mention that she had any travel plans? Not that I know of.
But Hazel was very reliant on her, and if she were about to move on, that would have left her in the lurch Yes.
It would have left us all in the lurch, if we'd known about it.
What time did you and Hazel arrive at the award ceremony last night? I can't be sure.
We were a little late.
Hazel was nursing one of her headaches, and I had to go on ahead of her.
So she stayed at home? Only for half an hour.
Then she grabbed a cab and joined me.
It was a wonderful evening.
To start with, anyway, but it ended sadly for Louisa.
Look, I have to get back to the station and check Hazel's on top of things.
We've already missed one sponsor's message this morning.
I'd be happy to step in.
I do have performance experience.
Really? I need to be around the station in any case.
I wouldn't want Hazel to feel displaced, but at the moment, I would be very grateful, Miss Fisher.
Now a word from our favourite sponsor.
Ladies, do you scrub your knuckles raw to get your husband's shirts white and bright? What about the kiddies? Are their clothes looking faded and second-rate? Well, then, you really should try new Flamboyance washing powder.
Ladies, listen to the news No more Monday-morning blues Just one scoop of Flamboyance And through your washing day you'll dance Flamboyance, Flamboyance Just a little Flamboyance.
Damn! A brief tune, then it's news on the hour with Archibald Jones.
Popped a string.
But bravo, Miss Fisher.
We make a wonderful team.
We should get cosy.
I'm quite cosy enough, thank you.
Oh, hello.
Can I help you? Evening edition.
Oh.
Bloody awful, what happened to Louisa.
She was a real gem.
Tell Clarence his paper's here.
He needs it for his racing show.
Hello, Dot.
Well done, Miss.
You sounded just like the real thing.
Thank you.
Our delivery man seemed quite particular that Clarence get his newspaper, didn't he? A betting tip.
Race six, Glory Girl.
I thought that fish was dead.
It's a new one, a present.
I know how upset Mrs Creswick was about poor Oswald, so That's very kind of you.
It wasn't any trouble.
You really are a treasure, Dot.
I don't know what I'd do without you.
Nor I without you, Miss.
I just heard the end of that broadcast.
What do you think you're doing, Miss Fisher? Hazel! Hazel, if you'll just let me explain.
I asked Miss Fisher to step in for us.
In that case, I suppose I should thank you.
Not at all.
You can be so determined to carry on sometimes, my love.
Are you sure you don't want me to shell the peas, Mr Butler? No, no, I enjoy podding peas.
It's very satisfying.
And Miss Fisher relies on you for a lot more than her evening meal.
We all help where we can under this roof, but you are her right-hand woman at all hours of the day and night.
Yes, I try to be her Girl Friday.
But that wouldn't be possible if I lived anywhere else, would it? Not something I even want to consider, Dorothy.
We need the radio.
We've got a date with a horserace.
Well, you can't just take over the wireless whenever you please.
It's a job, Dottie.
Look.
Miss Fisher asked us to keep an eye on this horse - Glory Girl.
We told her she's a joke.
That nag ran last all season.
Alright, then, one race, but I warn you, Miss Fisher has company - constabulary company.
This guy is actually there, Dottie.
He's at the track.
Up some bloody tree, I bet, so the newspapers don't lynch him for stealing their thunder.
Lining up for race six in the Rowlands.
Second on the outside is my tip for a win - No.
4, Bedazzler.
I thought Glory Girl was supposed to be his favourite.
Last on the outside is No.
14, Glory Girl.
It's a wet track here.
She hardly rated a mention.
I feel like I'm at the bookie's circle at Flemington.
Turn it down.
You're lucky we haven't got a bet on.
.
.
foaled on 7th July 1926, and she is still going strong.
Just get on with it! Ssh! Who told Hazel Creswick I should diversify into singing? I'm not sure, but it certainly is a wonderful suggestion.
I'm glad my feeble undercover attempt provides you with amusement.
I look for joy in all the dark places Archie.
So, someone is paying Clarence Ball large amounts of cash, and Dodger looks like the go-between.
He seemed quite at home letting himself into the station, but odd that he only offered up one tip in all those races.
Perhaps 'Glory Girl' is an instruction for the next act of sabotage.
'Glory Girl' could be Hazel Creswick.
No! She won.
That bloody useless nag won by four lengths.
Hello, Bert (!) Miss Fisher.
Inspector.
Albert.
Glory Girl won that race.
Definitely a genuine tip.
Not that that Clarence bloke mentioned it on the radio.
Not even close! More interested in his Hall Of Fame mystery horse.
Maybe it was a real tip.
And the money has more to do with the racetrack than sabotage.
Louisa may have stumbled on it and paid the price.
I'll have Hugh haul both of them in.
So, Dodger, your real name is John Lockhart.
Any relation to Neddy Lockhart, notorious racehorse trainer and standover man? He's my uncle.
So what? Glory Girl, a horse you circled in the newspaper, came in for a win at 20-1 in race six today.
Perhaps we should talk to your Uncle Ned about that.
He's got nothing to do with it.
I just keep my ear to the ground.
If you don't want us to pay him a visit, tell us everything you know about Clarence Ball and his involvement.
I pass tips on to Clarry, he puts them on the air.
He's got some special code.
Punters pay to get hold of it.
That's it! Mr Ball, we're very interested in your daily Hall Of Fame segment.
Please, call me Clarry.
No, thank you.
Now, your mystery horse today, what was the clue, Constable? 'Foaled 7th July 1926.
' Seventh letter of the alphabet, G, then the seventh month, another G - Race six, Glory Girl.
Very clever.
You're running a book? No.
Dodger sells my code to the punters from the newsstand, I then broadcast the tip before the race.
If punters want to put money on, that's their business, and if Dodger pays me cash every night, that's his business.
You met up with Dodger last night? No.
He wasn't there at the usual time.
He paid me today.
What time do you usually meet? After the show, around seven.
Last night I flashed the lights to signal him to come up, but he didn't make it, so I gave up on him and went home.
A witness told us you sold a cinnamon bun to Miss Singleton.
What time was that? About quarter past six.
What did you do after? Not much.
Tidied up, locked the stall, walked home.
What about your nightly meetings with Clarence Ball? I'd spent the takings.
I put some bets on.
I didn't have it to give to him, so I put him off.
Did you go anywhere near the radio station later that night? No.
I'll leave him to you, Constable.
Archibald Jones is taking me out on the town for the evening.
Have you seen her injuries? No.
I've been too busy announcing missing sheep and the price of apples.
But you do it so well, Archie.
The Coroner's report suggests strangulation as the cause of death.
Have you seen these notes on the stomach contents? 'Newspaper.
Shreds found in the victim's mouth as well.
' Page 5, to be precise.
Our newspaper seller is looking more and more interesting.
Or Louisa had strange dietary habits.
Clarence said she often worked late and bought something to eat.
Except this is no ordinary fork.
Look Could have been caught in a drawer.
It's too even.
This fork has been especially modified.
For what? We'll have to return to the studio to find out.
Remind me to bring you on my next break-in.
You're useful.
Thank you.
Sorry.
I was just trying to steady you.
Steady me anytime, Inspector.
This looks hopeful.
More racing tips? Nothing in the sports pages.
Stop, stop.
There's a page missing.
Page 5, to be precise.
Louisa obviously had this well hidden for a reason.
Whoever she confronted with it Made her eat her words.
Quick, Jack! Lost him.
Look, same as the empty pack I found at the crime scene yesterday.
Look at the lid.
Dodger.
I saw him with the same pack at the newsstand.
Looks like he's our arsonist.
A week of tips like this from that dodgy character, think how many beers that's going to buy us.
Forget the beer.
We'll be rich enough to buy the whole ruddy pub.
How do you like that? Customers could be waiting.
What are you two doing here? Buying a paper.
No law against that.
Where's Lockhart? Who? John Lockhart.
People call him Dodger.
Never heard of him.
Oi, he's in here! There were black fingerprints all over the site of the fire - the door, the bin.
It's newsprint.
Confirmed as John 'Dodger' Lockhart.
Looks like you found your saboteur.
You can finally blow your cover, Archie.
But who murdered Dodger? And why? If there's another killer at large, perhaps Dodger didn't kill Louisa.
I suspect he was there that night at the radio station.
I agree.
You said Dodger knew Louisa was heading back to the radio station If he waited to check the coast was clear before his meeting with Clarence, he could have witnessed a murder rather than committed one.
And now he's paid the price.
And this .
.
belongs to Hazel Creswick.
I recognise it from yesterday.
She may not be as helpless as she seems.
I still doubt she's capable of either murder all on her own.
Perhaps both the Creswicks conspired.
Almost time for my finale.
I'll meet you at the radio station.
There's plenty of good fishing available right across the bay.
Now for Victoria's weather.
A low system will deepen over the Bight waters this morning, then .
.
ah, move north of the state and weaken.
Now for some modern music from .
.
Beethoven.
Archie, what are you doing? You didn't finish the weather.
Consider this my resignation.
Did I leave my water? I came up Archie.
You're a policeman.
Detective Inspector, in fact.
It's not Archie, it's Jack Robinson.
They passed me over as newsreader for a bloody cop! Now, Mr and Mrs Creswick, I must ask you to accompany me to the station to answer questions about the death of John Lockhart, otherwise known as Dodger.
I already told you it's mine.
I wondered where I'd lost it.
How do you explain it being found inside the newsstand? I have no idea, but I usually take one off when I answer the telephone.
Ask anyone.
Ask Jimmy.
He'll tell you where I was last night.
Collins? Collins! Bring Mr Creswick through.
He doesn't believe me.
It's alright, my love.
We were home all evening.
We ran through our lines for the next day, ate dinner, went to bed.
Anyone could have picked up Hazel's earring.
Why would the murderer try and implicate your wife? How should I know? You're the fancy detective who's been spying on us.
If you can't work out what's going on, what hope have we got? Excuse me, sir.
Information has just come through that you might like to hear.
Mr Creswick, if you'd like to wait outside with your wife.
I don't know how I'm going to get through the show today, Jimmy.
We'll manage, my darling.
We always do.
You haven't abandoned us too, have you, Miss Fisher? You will still play Guinevere today? I wouldn't miss it for the world.
The Coroner telephoned to confirm the latest victim was strangled with heavy wire, possibly piano wire.
Clarence broke a piano wire at the station yesterday.
How do you explain the earring? An attempt to frame Hazel? There was no love lost between her and Clarence.
Perhaps we'll know more when we find our missing page 5.
Check with Archives, Collins.
Oh, Dot.
Good.
I came as fast as I could.
What did you need me to do? I'm due on air.
I need you to take more evidence to the police station for Hugh while I recount my Tuscan escapades.
Poor Oswald II.
Mrs Creswick will be devastated.
Yes.
One dead goldfish is unfortunate but two points to foul play.
Miss Fisher would like the police laboratory to test the water and Oswald.
For what? She thinks someone might have put something in his water.
The man at the pet store told me to clean his bowl out, but I forgot.
Aw, Dottie.
It's not your fault.
It's not that, Hugh.
Stay here.
I'll get a jar to test the water.
I'll be back.
It's not about the fish.
It's about us.
I didn't think what it would mean.
What? Marriage, a wedding.
I want to be with you, Hugh, I do, but I want to work for Miss Fisher too.
Well, that wouldn't be right, you working, not when you're Mrs Hugh Collins.
I know.
Dottie, what are you doing? I don't know what I want.
What is this? No! Dottie, wait.
Dottie! What's going on, Collins? Ah .
.
we've had another murder, sir.
I meant, Miss Williams.
I always thought, sir, that when Dottie and I set a date, assuming she agreed, she'd stop working for Miss Fisher and make a home for us both.
I thought she'd be happy to.
But now it seems that she doesn't want to stop working, and she's not happy.
What you're experiencing, Collins, is the paradox of pursuing a modern woman.
Dottie's a modern woman? She's been living with one for a while.
It's bound to rub off.
At first, Valerio was lovely, but then he locked me in a dungeon under his Tuscan castle.
Fortunately, I managed to persuade the guard to smuggle me out through a secret passage.
Oh, my.
How brave our daughter is.
Don't you agree, Ursula? I wouldn't say brave.
Plucky, maybe.
Resourceful.
It wasn't a very secure dungeon, and I'm not sure that I should tell you everything about the guard.
Guinevere, we are truly relieved to have you Well, my dear, we are very grateful to have you home again, safe and sound.
Perhaps a cup of tea to celebrate.
And .
.
a song! Why didn't you tell me you were so ill? I'm not, Jimmy.
It's just nerves.
Thank you, Miss Fisher.
I'll take her home.
The doctor can see her there.
No, please.
I don't need a doctor.
I need to finish the broadcast.
No, you don't.
Come on.
Did you hear the broadcast, Dot? The Polkinghorns came to another abrupt ending today.
Yes, Miss.
What on earth is the matter? Hugh proposed.
He wants to announce it so we can set a date.
That's wonderful news.
No, it's not.
If I marry Hugh, I won't be able to work for you anymore.
Oh, Dot.
I won't go on investigations with you and take notes and improve my typing and go motoring with you in the Hispano.
Dot.
You hate motoring with me.
Yes, but I love everything else, and all that will end because that's the way Hugh sees it, and that's the way things are for married women, Miss.
That doesn't mean that's the way things have to stay.
Special delivery - Louisa's last meal.
Thank you, Jack.
I think I'm going to miss Archie Jones.
Did you choose that name yourself? It did suit your gold tie.
Just look at page 5.
Births.
Bereavements.
A lost Pomeranian in Elwood.
What made this page so special to Louisa? Collins suggested Miss Williams might have more luck.
Really? I'll give it to her immediately.
Dot has been rather upset lately.
Hugh hasn't spoken to you, has he? He did seek my advice, yes.
And what did you tell him? That, I believe, is confidential police information.
Like this.
Cause of death of two goldfish - thallium.
It's found in rat poison.
Odourless, colourless and dissolves in water.
Hazel drinks a great deal of water.
Thallium also causes hair loss.
It would have to be a low dose for the victim to lose their hair, otherwise they just die.
So Hazel is being poisoned, slowly and carefully? The poisoner's poison.
Miss! Miss, I found it! I found the clue.
It can't just be a coincidence.
From the beginning, Dot.
Public Notices, In Memoriam.
Here.
'Redpath, Guinevere.
1895 - 1925.
Sadly missed.
Tragically killed in Perth.
Fondly remembered for her Twilight Melodies broadcast.
Justice will prevail.
' Guinevere was the name Louisa used in The Polkinghorns.
Louisa lived in Perth for a year.
She could have known this Guinevere.
But why would she hide this notice? Mrs Creswick.
Come in.
Thank you.
Hazel, you're not well.
Please will you fill in again for me, Miss Fisher? I'm not up to it, as you can see.
Come into the parlour.
Make sure she stays here.
I'll have Hugh hunt up the file on Guinevere Redpath.
I'm happy to help you out again, Hazel, but only if you let me take you to hospital as soon as I'm done.
I'm not sure you realise how ill you are.
No.
I'm alright.
I have to be.
I'm moving to start my new job next week.
That ticket to Sydney, it wasn't Louisa's, it was yours.
The new National Broadcasting Service, they're gathering presenters from all around the country, and they want me.
That's quite an honour.
Congratulations.
But I couldn't leave 3JH in the lurch, so I was training Louisa to take over.
She booked the ticket for me.
Hazel, have you ever heard of a Guinevere Redpath from Perth? Or Twilight Melodies? It's a radio show.
No, but you could look in our archives.
Louisa was in charge of cataloguing them.
Dot, look after Hazel.
I'm due on air A Mrs Guinevere Redpath, soprano on Radio 6KB's Twilight Melodies.
Discovered dead in her bed at Police inquiry? Inconclusive, sir.
They were never able to interview her husband of five years, a Mr Harry Redpath, a wireless technician.
Harry Redpath could have killed his wife, caught a train to Melbourne, changed his name.
You think he's Louisa Singleton's killer, sir? And Hazel Creswick's poisoner.
Why haven't you told Mr Creswick about the job opportunity? It's such exciting news.
Miss Williams, have you ever loved a man so much you'd sacrifice your freedom? Jimmy taught me everything I know about radio.
He made me and he adores me, but he won't let me do anything on my own.
He won't let me have any money, he won't let me drive or go anywhere without him.
I feel like I'm suffocating.
Could you play this next? Special request.
Do I get one in return? Save your breath, Clarry.
Your charms are lost on me.
Liar.
And now, a very special treat.
A taste of the past - Twilight Melodies.
Good evening, music lovers.
Welcome to Twilight Melodies with Harry and Gwinny Redpath.
Jimmy! Where is my wife, Miss Fisher? I have no idea.
She'd better be here soon.
Perhaps the poison slowed her down.
Louisa found you out, didn't she, Harry? Remembered your voice from her time in Perth.
And then Guinevere's memorial notice jogged her memory.
She put Guinevere's name into the script to see how you'd react and ordered that old recording just to make sure.
You're not going anywhere until Hazel gets here.
I want her now.
Why, so you can kill her like you killed your first wife? Be quiet.
You're not going to shoot me.
What would be the point in that? I'm calling the police.
You left your wife at home with her headache before you went to the awards night.
Sir, Dot's on the telephone.
Miss Fisher's in trouble.
You came back here to the studio to poison her again but Louisa caught you in the act.
It's you.
You dragged her body outside.
Clarence couldn't hear any of it.
Then you continued on to the awards night as if nothing had happened, and poor old Dodger saw it all.
You realised he witnessed the murder, so you killed him too.
You're not moving until Hazel walks through that door.
She defied me, and if I can't have her, no-one will.
I will kill her.
And I'll kill you too, Miss Fisher.
What have you done? You'll get the same as Louisa.
Miss Fisher? Hope you enjoyed the show, Jack.
Constable, get him up.
Harry Redpath, you're under arrest for the murders of Guinevere Redpath, Louisa Singleton and John Lockhart.
And the attempted murder of Hazel Creswick.
You took your time.
Might want to put this back on? But how will we solve everything? It's a paradox, Dottie - a problem that takes time to solve, time for me to understand the modern woman.
So you're happy for a long engagement, then? I'm happy.
Me too.
I would like to propose a toast.
You too, Mr Butler.
I insist.
To two of the dearest people I know.
To Dot, my Rock of Gibraltar, my strong right hand.
And, of course, to Hugh, that purveyor of quiet yet irresistible constabulary charm.
To Dot and Hugh.
Dot and Hugh.
Mr B.
So, Archie, looks like it's back to your old life Don't stop because of me.
We're all alone, no chaperone Can get our number The world's in slumber Let's misbehave There's something wild about you, child That's so contagious Let's be outrageous Let's misbehave You know my heart is true And you say you for me care Somebody's sure to tell But what the heck do we care? They say that bears have love affairs and even camels We're merely mammals Let's misbehave We're merely mammals Let's misbehave.
No.
No, keep away! Get back! No, get away! Let go! Help! How many stations can it pick up? Only 3JH, I'm afraid.
That's how a restricted licence works That's perfect.
May I ask what's so particular about this 3JH? It has The Polkinghorns.
A girl who went to my school helps to make it.
Now it's time to revisit our daily serial, At Home With The Polkinghorns.
A New Day.
That sounds like the taxi now.
Maurice .
.
it must be our Guinevere, home in time for her 21st birthday.
Who's Guinevere? Their daughter.
Look outside, Maurice - our Guinevere.
Where is she? Ssh! I .
.
don't want to see her after what she did.
What did she do? Ran off with an Italian opera singer.
We've all done that.
But we are on air.
(Come on!) Whatever is keeping that maid? She's dead.
Who's dead? Louisa, outside.
Just turn the blasted thing off! L Louisa Singleton is the girl I know.
Radios claim newspaper war.
Out now in the Argus.
Ah, Miss Fisher.
How did you know? We were listening to the wireless.
Louisa was going to do so many wonderful things.
Miss Fisher, detective, and my assistant, Miss Williams.
Jimmy Creswick, station manager, And this is Louisa? Yes, our Girl Friday, Miss Louisa Singleton.
How awful.
They said they'd get us.
Who did? Hazel, love, come inside and calm down.
Looks like she was strangled.
Such a shame, one so young.
Terrible.
Time of death, 6:40pm, if we assume she was wearing these clothes yesterday and her watch was in good working order.
Thank you.
I'll take it from here.
Step back, please.
Thank you.
Step right back, please.
Where's Inspector Robinson? He's He's on another job.
We'd be happy to assist you, Hugh.
Miss Singleton was a school friend of Dot's.
She'd never forgive me if I didn't help.
Miss? The other job the Inspector's on .
.
he's uncover and it's confidential.
Sounds intriguing.
Come on, Dot.
Yes, exactly the same outfit that she was in yesterday.
We just thought she was late this morning.
Even though Louisa was never late.
Today of all days.
Playing Guinevere in The Polkinghorns was her big step up.
Is there anyone who might have wanted to harm Miss Singleton? No.
Louisa put all her efforts into her work.
Top girl.
She kept the books neat, typed up all our scripts.
She broke it off with her fiance in Perth when she was offered the job at 3JH.
Are any of these coats Louisa's? Yes, the cloak.
I can scribe, if you like.
So no grudges, threats? Not against her in particular.
There were telephone calls a few days ago.
Hazel took one, Louisa the other.
It was a man.
He warned us to shut down the station or he'd do it himself.
We've been expecting trouble.
There have been attacks on other radio stations.
From our brightest night to our darkest day.
Hazel was crowned Best Female Talent last night at the Australian Recorded Performance Awards.
Oh, no! Oh, Oswald.
Come now, Hazel.
It's only a goldfish.
It was probably his time.
Sorry.
I'm not normally like this.
Good morning.
This is the Ten O'clock News.
From July, electric trams will run from the eastern suburbs.
That voice! This is predicted not only to alleviate traffic in the centre but bring new shoppers to the city, where they can enjoy a splendid array of stores and restaurants that cater to all tastes.
Mr Archibald Jones, he of the dulcet tones.
Wherever did you find him? We didn't.
The board of 3JH decided last week to offer an hourly news service.
We wanted to train Clarence for the role but management hired Mr Jones.
Why don't you go and have a sit-down, love? You've had a shock.
You're right, darling.
I do feel slightly shattered.
She couldn't get out more than two words in front of a microphone when I first met her.
Perhaps having a private detective around would reassure her, a discreet presence.
If you ask me, the one to look out for is that bloke.
I wouldn't trust him as far as I could spit.
There will be more news in the next hour, so please stay tuned.
Shortly, Clarence Ball will be with you for the daily sporting news.
But first, a musical interlude.
Before you say anything, Archibald Thank goodness you're here.
I need you to move in on this case.
Collins can't handle this alone.
Is this Jack Robinson speaking, or are you still incognito? You want me to ride shotgun over Hugh I wish you wouldn't put it quite like that.
You could ask nicely.
Want me to beg? This may never happen again.
Please.
I'm stuck here, keeping an eye on things.
Not a very keen eye.
Someone was killed at 6:40pm, to be precise.
I was reporting to Commissioner Hall last night.
Four radio stations from Melbourne and Sydney have been shut down in the last six months.
They've been robbed, vandalised or set alight.
Well, we both know who has the most to lose, with radio taking off.
Newspapers.
Why buy a newspaper if you've already heard the headlines on the wireless? But you suspect an inside job? Clarence Ball - foley man, piano player, sports presenter.
Left radio station 3XL one week before it burned to the ground after a series of menacing phone calls.
Suspiciously good timing.
Let's have a look at the Corroborree Maiden first.
In the seventh, my pick is Paschal Vaya, number two.
In the eighth, we're looking at number five Clarence Ball's On The Track.
I've heard a lot about this.
What's so remarkable about these tips? Not very good odds, some of them.
I'm with you.
These are just all the favourites.
The barman at the pub is making a packet out of this bloke.
Col swears by him.
Tune in this afternoon at the usual time for Hall Of Fame - your chance to guess our Mare of the Moment.
Nah.
We're missing something with this joker.
The results of the last race came in on the wire at 6:55, then the station closed at seven.
You were the last to leave the office? That's right.
Jimmy and Hazel left at 5:30 to go to a fancy awards do.
Looks like Mrs Creswick has really made 3JH a success story.
Best Female Talent on Melbourne Radio You'd be surprised how many punters tune in to my sporting news, even more to my live race calls.
But you haven't been at the statio for long, have you? Where were you previously? Radio 3XL.
I had quite a following there too.
That station closed down, didn't it? A fire, I believe.
Before my time.
Difference of opinion.
Back to Miss Singleton, what time did she leave the office last night? She made me a cuppa before my shift.
Then there was no sign of her when the evening session finished at seven.
What was Louisa working on? Jingles, ideas for shows, stories.
I told her it was a complete waste of time.
Hazel made damn sure she wrote every word that went to air.
She didn't think Louisa was up to the task? You'd have to ask Hazel that.
Did they ever disagree, to your knowledge? Hazel's been tricky lately.
Louisa wouldn't be the only one she's crossed swords with.
You'd better cooperate, Archie.
Jimmy already thinks you did it.
What? You are behaving very suspiciously.
Clarence had the opportunity to murder Louisa.
He could easily slip out of the studio in a musical interlude.
Hazel and Louisa didn't get on.
Creative competition.
Have you seen a running order anywhere? We're in such a mess without Louisa.
Here it is.
Oh, thank goodness.
Perhaps Dot could be of some help.
That would be wonderful.
I'll show you what needs to be done.
So, do the police have any ideas? Could be anyone.
You know the type who hang around here.
Like who? That bloke from the newspaper stand for one.
Louisa complained about him waltzing in here whenever he felt like it.
I only wish I'd taken more notice and done something about him.
There you go.
Thanks, cobber.
Argus, thanks.
So, you knew Louisa pretty well? I'd hoped to know her even better.
I asked her to go dancing a couple of times.
She turned you down? Only twice.
I was still in with a chance.
I could tell by the way she liked to tick me off.
I saw her last night too.
She bought a bun from me.
Said she was going back to work.
Maybe you should tell the cops.
I'm not getting mixed up with the cops, and it won't bring Louisa back.
Hooroo.
Get your papers here! Paper! Are you sure there's nothing we've missed, Hugh? She wanted to marry that bloke in Perth, but she had her heart set on radio.
Yes, Louisa, she left school at 15, like me, but she was always smart.
Well, you must be smart too, assisting a lady detective.
Rightio, let's test you.
Guess this bird.
Gonk, gonk! Gonk! I give up.
That is the black swan, the official bird of Western Australia.
But I made you smile, didn't I? Deeply affected by your colleague's passing, are you? What's your problem, Constable? I've told you everything I know.
Why didn't you hear any disturbance in the alley last night? There could have been heavy mortar fire outside and I wouldn't have heard a thing.
That studio is completely soundproof.
Help! Constable, help, quickly! Oh, Jimmy! Stay back, Hazel.
Don't touch it! What happened? The microphone.
I got a shock.
Stand back, please.
Turn off the power.
There's a fuse box in the hall.
All clear.
Is there a first-aid box? It's fine.
I'll be alright.
They tried to get you.
They're going to knock us all off, I know it.
The same thing happened at 2WA.
I'm sure it's nothing more than a silly accident.
Tell her, Miss Fisher.
I'd like to agree, but The wires have been deliberately frayed.
No, sir.
Inspector Robinson prevented the electrocution himself.
Yes.
Yes, sir.
I'll pass on the message.
Thank you, sir.
Right away.
Looking right at home there, Hugh.
In your haste to follow the Inspector's orders, you left Louisa Singleton's notebook behind.
Thank you, Miss.
How did that happen? We thought you might need some help going through Louisa's things.
The Inspector's secret stash! Miss Well done, Hugh.
Mm, delicious.
A packet of matches, thanks.
And, ah, this came for you.
Special delivery.
Thanks.
I've been expecting that.
Paper! Look at this.
Why would Louisa buy an interstate train ticket? An overnight sleeper to Sydney booked for next week.
No return.
Clarence Ball said Hazel didn't like any of Louisa's ideas, but this is the Polkinghorns episode they played this morning.
Maybe she was just transcribing for Hazel.
Look, it says, 'Written by Miss Louisa Singleton.
' If all of those stories were Louisa's ideas and Hazel was taking all the glory, I don't blame her for trying to leave That radio awards night, it didn't begin until 7:00pm but the Creswicks left the studio at 5:30.
That's plenty of time for a detour.
We need a quiet word with Hazel, a casual tete-a-tete.
Bring the car around, Dot.
Tea For Two.
What better, after a woman's long day of household toils and a man's daily battles with the world than a steaming brew for two of Tilley's tea? To celebrate hearth and home .
.
no matter who comes calling, or prepare for an evening of loving companionship with the little ones tucked safely in bed.
Tilley's tea, proud sponsor of 3JH Radio, is made for relaxation and rejuvenation, just for you.
Tilley's tea is tip-top tea from the very best tips to your teapot.
If I could borrow that typewriter, I could type these notes for you.
Thanks, Dottie.
You know, if I do well on this case, I'm one step closer to a promotion, which means we can afford to get married.
Then wise-cracking bird impersonators won't be so free and easy when you're Mrs Hugh Collins.
How are we going to tell your mother, Hugh? I don't care.
We'll get married in a Catholic church.
I'll convert.
But that would break your mother's heart.
I'm sure if we tell Miss Phryne, she'll help us find a solution.
Can't we work it out ourselves? That's what we'll have to do when you don't work for her anymore.
Pardon? Once we set a date and you give notice, Miss Fisher's going to have to do without you.
Without me? Give up my job? Right.
Dot! Mr Creswick.
I was expecting your wife.
Hazel sends her apologies, but she wasn't up to the car trip.
You thought Miss Williams could help out with our typing.
Of course.
I'd be happy to help.
Thank you, Dot.
While you're here, I would like a quiet word about Louisa.
Of course.
It seems she dedicated most of her evenings to writing for radio, but nothing of hers has been to air? Louisa was very ambitious, but she had no training as a writer.
She was needed far more as a typist.
Hazel only writes in longhand.
Then how do you explain this - this morning's episode, word for word, in Louisa's personal notebook? Really? Well, perhaps she copied it from one of Hazel's scripts for some reason, to learn from or Plagiarism? I hope that's not what it was.
Could that be why Hazel argued with her? Any arguments they had couldn't have been more than a tiff.
We work in very close quarters, and disagreements are bound to happen.
Did Louisa mention that she had any travel plans? Not that I know of.
But Hazel was very reliant on her, and if she were about to move on, that would have left her in the lurch Yes.
It would have left us all in the lurch, if we'd known about it.
What time did you and Hazel arrive at the award ceremony last night? I can't be sure.
We were a little late.
Hazel was nursing one of her headaches, and I had to go on ahead of her.
So she stayed at home? Only for half an hour.
Then she grabbed a cab and joined me.
It was a wonderful evening.
To start with, anyway, but it ended sadly for Louisa.
Look, I have to get back to the station and check Hazel's on top of things.
We've already missed one sponsor's message this morning.
I'd be happy to step in.
I do have performance experience.
Really? I need to be around the station in any case.
I wouldn't want Hazel to feel displaced, but at the moment, I would be very grateful, Miss Fisher.
Now a word from our favourite sponsor.
Ladies, do you scrub your knuckles raw to get your husband's shirts white and bright? What about the kiddies? Are their clothes looking faded and second-rate? Well, then, you really should try new Flamboyance washing powder.
Ladies, listen to the news No more Monday-morning blues Just one scoop of Flamboyance And through your washing day you'll dance Flamboyance, Flamboyance Just a little Flamboyance.
Damn! A brief tune, then it's news on the hour with Archibald Jones.
Popped a string.
But bravo, Miss Fisher.
We make a wonderful team.
We should get cosy.
I'm quite cosy enough, thank you.
Oh, hello.
Can I help you? Evening edition.
Oh.
Bloody awful, what happened to Louisa.
She was a real gem.
Tell Clarence his paper's here.
He needs it for his racing show.
Hello, Dot.
Well done, Miss.
You sounded just like the real thing.
Thank you.
Our delivery man seemed quite particular that Clarence get his newspaper, didn't he? A betting tip.
Race six, Glory Girl.
I thought that fish was dead.
It's a new one, a present.
I know how upset Mrs Creswick was about poor Oswald, so That's very kind of you.
It wasn't any trouble.
You really are a treasure, Dot.
I don't know what I'd do without you.
Nor I without you, Miss.
I just heard the end of that broadcast.
What do you think you're doing, Miss Fisher? Hazel! Hazel, if you'll just let me explain.
I asked Miss Fisher to step in for us.
In that case, I suppose I should thank you.
Not at all.
You can be so determined to carry on sometimes, my love.
Are you sure you don't want me to shell the peas, Mr Butler? No, no, I enjoy podding peas.
It's very satisfying.
And Miss Fisher relies on you for a lot more than her evening meal.
We all help where we can under this roof, but you are her right-hand woman at all hours of the day and night.
Yes, I try to be her Girl Friday.
But that wouldn't be possible if I lived anywhere else, would it? Not something I even want to consider, Dorothy.
We need the radio.
We've got a date with a horserace.
Well, you can't just take over the wireless whenever you please.
It's a job, Dottie.
Look.
Miss Fisher asked us to keep an eye on this horse - Glory Girl.
We told her she's a joke.
That nag ran last all season.
Alright, then, one race, but I warn you, Miss Fisher has company - constabulary company.
This guy is actually there, Dottie.
He's at the track.
Up some bloody tree, I bet, so the newspapers don't lynch him for stealing their thunder.
Lining up for race six in the Rowlands.
Second on the outside is my tip for a win - No.
4, Bedazzler.
I thought Glory Girl was supposed to be his favourite.
Last on the outside is No.
14, Glory Girl.
It's a wet track here.
She hardly rated a mention.
I feel like I'm at the bookie's circle at Flemington.
Turn it down.
You're lucky we haven't got a bet on.
.
.
foaled on 7th July 1926, and she is still going strong.
Just get on with it! Ssh! Who told Hazel Creswick I should diversify into singing? I'm not sure, but it certainly is a wonderful suggestion.
I'm glad my feeble undercover attempt provides you with amusement.
I look for joy in all the dark places Archie.
So, someone is paying Clarence Ball large amounts of cash, and Dodger looks like the go-between.
He seemed quite at home letting himself into the station, but odd that he only offered up one tip in all those races.
Perhaps 'Glory Girl' is an instruction for the next act of sabotage.
'Glory Girl' could be Hazel Creswick.
No! She won.
That bloody useless nag won by four lengths.
Hello, Bert (!) Miss Fisher.
Inspector.
Albert.
Glory Girl won that race.
Definitely a genuine tip.
Not that that Clarence bloke mentioned it on the radio.
Not even close! More interested in his Hall Of Fame mystery horse.
Maybe it was a real tip.
And the money has more to do with the racetrack than sabotage.
Louisa may have stumbled on it and paid the price.
I'll have Hugh haul both of them in.
So, Dodger, your real name is John Lockhart.
Any relation to Neddy Lockhart, notorious racehorse trainer and standover man? He's my uncle.
So what? Glory Girl, a horse you circled in the newspaper, came in for a win at 20-1 in race six today.
Perhaps we should talk to your Uncle Ned about that.
He's got nothing to do with it.
I just keep my ear to the ground.
If you don't want us to pay him a visit, tell us everything you know about Clarence Ball and his involvement.
I pass tips on to Clarry, he puts them on the air.
He's got some special code.
Punters pay to get hold of it.
That's it! Mr Ball, we're very interested in your daily Hall Of Fame segment.
Please, call me Clarry.
No, thank you.
Now, your mystery horse today, what was the clue, Constable? 'Foaled 7th July 1926.
' Seventh letter of the alphabet, G, then the seventh month, another G - Race six, Glory Girl.
Very clever.
You're running a book? No.
Dodger sells my code to the punters from the newsstand, I then broadcast the tip before the race.
If punters want to put money on, that's their business, and if Dodger pays me cash every night, that's his business.
You met up with Dodger last night? No.
He wasn't there at the usual time.
He paid me today.
What time do you usually meet? After the show, around seven.
Last night I flashed the lights to signal him to come up, but he didn't make it, so I gave up on him and went home.
A witness told us you sold a cinnamon bun to Miss Singleton.
What time was that? About quarter past six.
What did you do after? Not much.
Tidied up, locked the stall, walked home.
What about your nightly meetings with Clarence Ball? I'd spent the takings.
I put some bets on.
I didn't have it to give to him, so I put him off.
Did you go anywhere near the radio station later that night? No.
I'll leave him to you, Constable.
Archibald Jones is taking me out on the town for the evening.
Have you seen her injuries? No.
I've been too busy announcing missing sheep and the price of apples.
But you do it so well, Archie.
The Coroner's report suggests strangulation as the cause of death.
Have you seen these notes on the stomach contents? 'Newspaper.
Shreds found in the victim's mouth as well.
' Page 5, to be precise.
Our newspaper seller is looking more and more interesting.
Or Louisa had strange dietary habits.
Clarence said she often worked late and bought something to eat.
Except this is no ordinary fork.
Look Could have been caught in a drawer.
It's too even.
This fork has been especially modified.
For what? We'll have to return to the studio to find out.
Remind me to bring you on my next break-in.
You're useful.
Thank you.
Sorry.
I was just trying to steady you.
Steady me anytime, Inspector.
This looks hopeful.
More racing tips? Nothing in the sports pages.
Stop, stop.
There's a page missing.
Page 5, to be precise.
Louisa obviously had this well hidden for a reason.
Whoever she confronted with it Made her eat her words.
Quick, Jack! Lost him.
Look, same as the empty pack I found at the crime scene yesterday.
Look at the lid.
Dodger.
I saw him with the same pack at the newsstand.
Looks like he's our arsonist.
A week of tips like this from that dodgy character, think how many beers that's going to buy us.
Forget the beer.
We'll be rich enough to buy the whole ruddy pub.
How do you like that? Customers could be waiting.
What are you two doing here? Buying a paper.
No law against that.
Where's Lockhart? Who? John Lockhart.
People call him Dodger.
Never heard of him.
Oi, he's in here! There were black fingerprints all over the site of the fire - the door, the bin.
It's newsprint.
Confirmed as John 'Dodger' Lockhart.
Looks like you found your saboteur.
You can finally blow your cover, Archie.
But who murdered Dodger? And why? If there's another killer at large, perhaps Dodger didn't kill Louisa.
I suspect he was there that night at the radio station.
I agree.
You said Dodger knew Louisa was heading back to the radio station If he waited to check the coast was clear before his meeting with Clarence, he could have witnessed a murder rather than committed one.
And now he's paid the price.
And this .
.
belongs to Hazel Creswick.
I recognise it from yesterday.
She may not be as helpless as she seems.
I still doubt she's capable of either murder all on her own.
Perhaps both the Creswicks conspired.
Almost time for my finale.
I'll meet you at the radio station.
There's plenty of good fishing available right across the bay.
Now for Victoria's weather.
A low system will deepen over the Bight waters this morning, then .
.
ah, move north of the state and weaken.
Now for some modern music from .
.
Beethoven.
Archie, what are you doing? You didn't finish the weather.
Consider this my resignation.
Did I leave my water? I came up Archie.
You're a policeman.
Detective Inspector, in fact.
It's not Archie, it's Jack Robinson.
They passed me over as newsreader for a bloody cop! Now, Mr and Mrs Creswick, I must ask you to accompany me to the station to answer questions about the death of John Lockhart, otherwise known as Dodger.
I already told you it's mine.
I wondered where I'd lost it.
How do you explain it being found inside the newsstand? I have no idea, but I usually take one off when I answer the telephone.
Ask anyone.
Ask Jimmy.
He'll tell you where I was last night.
Collins? Collins! Bring Mr Creswick through.
He doesn't believe me.
It's alright, my love.
We were home all evening.
We ran through our lines for the next day, ate dinner, went to bed.
Anyone could have picked up Hazel's earring.
Why would the murderer try and implicate your wife? How should I know? You're the fancy detective who's been spying on us.
If you can't work out what's going on, what hope have we got? Excuse me, sir.
Information has just come through that you might like to hear.
Mr Creswick, if you'd like to wait outside with your wife.
I don't know how I'm going to get through the show today, Jimmy.
We'll manage, my darling.
We always do.
You haven't abandoned us too, have you, Miss Fisher? You will still play Guinevere today? I wouldn't miss it for the world.
The Coroner telephoned to confirm the latest victim was strangled with heavy wire, possibly piano wire.
Clarence broke a piano wire at the station yesterday.
How do you explain the earring? An attempt to frame Hazel? There was no love lost between her and Clarence.
Perhaps we'll know more when we find our missing page 5.
Check with Archives, Collins.
Oh, Dot.
Good.
I came as fast as I could.
What did you need me to do? I'm due on air.
I need you to take more evidence to the police station for Hugh while I recount my Tuscan escapades.
Poor Oswald II.
Mrs Creswick will be devastated.
Yes.
One dead goldfish is unfortunate but two points to foul play.
Miss Fisher would like the police laboratory to test the water and Oswald.
For what? She thinks someone might have put something in his water.
The man at the pet store told me to clean his bowl out, but I forgot.
Aw, Dottie.
It's not your fault.
It's not that, Hugh.
Stay here.
I'll get a jar to test the water.
I'll be back.
It's not about the fish.
It's about us.
I didn't think what it would mean.
What? Marriage, a wedding.
I want to be with you, Hugh, I do, but I want to work for Miss Fisher too.
Well, that wouldn't be right, you working, not when you're Mrs Hugh Collins.
I know.
Dottie, what are you doing? I don't know what I want.
What is this? No! Dottie, wait.
Dottie! What's going on, Collins? Ah .
.
we've had another murder, sir.
I meant, Miss Williams.
I always thought, sir, that when Dottie and I set a date, assuming she agreed, she'd stop working for Miss Fisher and make a home for us both.
I thought she'd be happy to.
But now it seems that she doesn't want to stop working, and she's not happy.
What you're experiencing, Collins, is the paradox of pursuing a modern woman.
Dottie's a modern woman? She's been living with one for a while.
It's bound to rub off.
At first, Valerio was lovely, but then he locked me in a dungeon under his Tuscan castle.
Fortunately, I managed to persuade the guard to smuggle me out through a secret passage.
Oh, my.
How brave our daughter is.
Don't you agree, Ursula? I wouldn't say brave.
Plucky, maybe.
Resourceful.
It wasn't a very secure dungeon, and I'm not sure that I should tell you everything about the guard.
Guinevere, we are truly relieved to have you Well, my dear, we are very grateful to have you home again, safe and sound.
Perhaps a cup of tea to celebrate.
And .
.
a song! Why didn't you tell me you were so ill? I'm not, Jimmy.
It's just nerves.
Thank you, Miss Fisher.
I'll take her home.
The doctor can see her there.
No, please.
I don't need a doctor.
I need to finish the broadcast.
No, you don't.
Come on.
Did you hear the broadcast, Dot? The Polkinghorns came to another abrupt ending today.
Yes, Miss.
What on earth is the matter? Hugh proposed.
He wants to announce it so we can set a date.
That's wonderful news.
No, it's not.
If I marry Hugh, I won't be able to work for you anymore.
Oh, Dot.
I won't go on investigations with you and take notes and improve my typing and go motoring with you in the Hispano.
Dot.
You hate motoring with me.
Yes, but I love everything else, and all that will end because that's the way Hugh sees it, and that's the way things are for married women, Miss.
That doesn't mean that's the way things have to stay.
Special delivery - Louisa's last meal.
Thank you, Jack.
I think I'm going to miss Archie Jones.
Did you choose that name yourself? It did suit your gold tie.
Just look at page 5.
Births.
Bereavements.
A lost Pomeranian in Elwood.
What made this page so special to Louisa? Collins suggested Miss Williams might have more luck.
Really? I'll give it to her immediately.
Dot has been rather upset lately.
Hugh hasn't spoken to you, has he? He did seek my advice, yes.
And what did you tell him? That, I believe, is confidential police information.
Like this.
Cause of death of two goldfish - thallium.
It's found in rat poison.
Odourless, colourless and dissolves in water.
Hazel drinks a great deal of water.
Thallium also causes hair loss.
It would have to be a low dose for the victim to lose their hair, otherwise they just die.
So Hazel is being poisoned, slowly and carefully? The poisoner's poison.
Miss! Miss, I found it! I found the clue.
It can't just be a coincidence.
From the beginning, Dot.
Public Notices, In Memoriam.
Here.
'Redpath, Guinevere.
1895 - 1925.
Sadly missed.
Tragically killed in Perth.
Fondly remembered for her Twilight Melodies broadcast.
Justice will prevail.
' Guinevere was the name Louisa used in The Polkinghorns.
Louisa lived in Perth for a year.
She could have known this Guinevere.
But why would she hide this notice? Mrs Creswick.
Come in.
Thank you.
Hazel, you're not well.
Please will you fill in again for me, Miss Fisher? I'm not up to it, as you can see.
Come into the parlour.
Make sure she stays here.
I'll have Hugh hunt up the file on Guinevere Redpath.
I'm happy to help you out again, Hazel, but only if you let me take you to hospital as soon as I'm done.
I'm not sure you realise how ill you are.
No.
I'm alright.
I have to be.
I'm moving to start my new job next week.
That ticket to Sydney, it wasn't Louisa's, it was yours.
The new National Broadcasting Service, they're gathering presenters from all around the country, and they want me.
That's quite an honour.
Congratulations.
But I couldn't leave 3JH in the lurch, so I was training Louisa to take over.
She booked the ticket for me.
Hazel, have you ever heard of a Guinevere Redpath from Perth? Or Twilight Melodies? It's a radio show.
No, but you could look in our archives.
Louisa was in charge of cataloguing them.
Dot, look after Hazel.
I'm due on air A Mrs Guinevere Redpath, soprano on Radio 6KB's Twilight Melodies.
Discovered dead in her bed at Police inquiry? Inconclusive, sir.
They were never able to interview her husband of five years, a Mr Harry Redpath, a wireless technician.
Harry Redpath could have killed his wife, caught a train to Melbourne, changed his name.
You think he's Louisa Singleton's killer, sir? And Hazel Creswick's poisoner.
Why haven't you told Mr Creswick about the job opportunity? It's such exciting news.
Miss Williams, have you ever loved a man so much you'd sacrifice your freedom? Jimmy taught me everything I know about radio.
He made me and he adores me, but he won't let me do anything on my own.
He won't let me have any money, he won't let me drive or go anywhere without him.
I feel like I'm suffocating.
Could you play this next? Special request.
Do I get one in return? Save your breath, Clarry.
Your charms are lost on me.
Liar.
And now, a very special treat.
A taste of the past - Twilight Melodies.
Good evening, music lovers.
Welcome to Twilight Melodies with Harry and Gwinny Redpath.
Jimmy! Where is my wife, Miss Fisher? I have no idea.
She'd better be here soon.
Perhaps the poison slowed her down.
Louisa found you out, didn't she, Harry? Remembered your voice from her time in Perth.
And then Guinevere's memorial notice jogged her memory.
She put Guinevere's name into the script to see how you'd react and ordered that old recording just to make sure.
You're not going anywhere until Hazel gets here.
I want her now.
Why, so you can kill her like you killed your first wife? Be quiet.
You're not going to shoot me.
What would be the point in that? I'm calling the police.
You left your wife at home with her headache before you went to the awards night.
Sir, Dot's on the telephone.
Miss Fisher's in trouble.
You came back here to the studio to poison her again but Louisa caught you in the act.
It's you.
You dragged her body outside.
Clarence couldn't hear any of it.
Then you continued on to the awards night as if nothing had happened, and poor old Dodger saw it all.
You realised he witnessed the murder, so you killed him too.
You're not moving until Hazel walks through that door.
She defied me, and if I can't have her, no-one will.
I will kill her.
And I'll kill you too, Miss Fisher.
What have you done? You'll get the same as Louisa.
Miss Fisher? Hope you enjoyed the show, Jack.
Constable, get him up.
Harry Redpath, you're under arrest for the murders of Guinevere Redpath, Louisa Singleton and John Lockhart.
And the attempted murder of Hazel Creswick.
You took your time.
Might want to put this back on? But how will we solve everything? It's a paradox, Dottie - a problem that takes time to solve, time for me to understand the modern woman.
So you're happy for a long engagement, then? I'm happy.
Me too.
I would like to propose a toast.
You too, Mr Butler.
I insist.
To two of the dearest people I know.
To Dot, my Rock of Gibraltar, my strong right hand.
And, of course, to Hugh, that purveyor of quiet yet irresistible constabulary charm.
To Dot and Hugh.
Dot and Hugh.
Mr B.
So, Archie, looks like it's back to your old life Don't stop because of me.
We're all alone, no chaperone Can get our number The world's in slumber Let's misbehave There's something wild about you, child That's so contagious Let's be outrageous Let's misbehave You know my heart is true And you say you for me care Somebody's sure to tell But what the heck do we care? They say that bears have love affairs and even camels We're merely mammals Let's misbehave We're merely mammals Let's misbehave.