All language subtitles for ms.fishers.modern.murder.mysteries.s02e06.720p.webrip.hevc.x265.rmteam

♪ Let me tell ya
'bout the birds and the bees ♪

♪ And the flowers
and the trees ♪

♪ And the moon up above ♪

♪ And a thing called love ♪

- Ripping day for it.
- Sublime.

Now, what's this I hear
about you snagging a new lady?

Oh, Thelma, you'd love her.
Bright eyes, long legs.

- Short, stout neck.
- Ohh!

I'm a sucker for a bird
with a stout neck.

Anyone else?

Cage 7 for the gorgeous dame, huh?

Dimitri.

Ahh!

- Is Virgil here?
- I thought he'd be with you.

He left home over an hour ago.

What if he's had an accident?

He was cockeyed last night.

He's probably taking a nap.

I'll check the coop.

Heh.

Virgil! You fool!
Are you in there?

Help! Somebody help!

Ahh.

Adventuresses' Club.

We're getting close here, Birdie.

Someone's been murdered.

Murdered?

Who?

President of Sandridge Pigeon Club.

Sandridge.

I might have an in there.

And, Aleks, this is our last mission.

Once we find the target, we're done.

Beautiful day for it.

Fancy seeing youhere.

A little birdy mentioned
there may be some...

fowlplay at the pigeon club.

I'm here to meet
a potential Adventuress. You?

I'm here to investigate a murder.

Pigeon aren't fowl.

Oh, they give me the creeps,
whatever they are.

Well, I'm sorry you feel
that way, Peregrine,

because once...
a pigeon saved my life.

This isn't your mission.

So, what time do you have?

- Are you two with the police?
- Oh, certainly not.

I'm Birdie Birnside.
I'm here to join your club.

Oh! Interesting timing.

And Ms. Fisher here,
she was just leaving.

Peregrine Fisher, Private Detective.

Birdie and Peregrine.
Oh, that is too perfect.

Who hired you to investigate?

Nobody as yet.

Could I engage your services?

No. I don't think
that's a very good idea.

Oh, I strongly disagree.

This case is too complex
for the police.

Look at that fop.

Couldn't solve a children's puzzle.

God. Where is...?

I would be honored to investigate

on your behalf, Ms...?

This is Doctor Thelma Beasley,

Australia's preeminent ornithologist.

Well. One of.

I have been wanting to invite you

to join the Adventuresses' Club
for years.

And I have longed to be invited.

Well, then it's settled.

I'll show you around this afternoon.

Birdie, somebody's just been murdered!

I'd be honored.

Remind me to tell you about my
recent field trip to Scotland.

- Yes.
- I was almost killed

when a giant wood grouse

chased me through the Caledonian pines!

Oh! Sounds terrifying.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

No. Birds are predictable.

I understand birds.

Whereas humans...

What was your relationship
to the deceased?

Virgil was President
of the Pigeon Club.

"El Presidente," he called himself.

He was a ruthless dictator.

He was vindictive,
racist, misogynistic.

And he also happened to be my brother.

- Oh.
- But for all his many faults,

he didn't entirely deserve this.

Can you think of anyone
who had a reason to kill Virgil?

It's more a question of
who didn'twant to kill Virgil,

especially amongst this lot.

Oh. No, thank you.

I might just take a look around.

Ladies. We meet again.

Wouldn't have picked you two
as pigeon fanciers.

I'm here to join the club.

And I've been hired to
investigate by Thelma Beasley.

Well.

I guess I can't stop you then.

Ohh...

Does this deter you from joining?

Pigeon racing is not
for the faint-hearted.

- So, what do we know?
- It appears that Virgil Beasley

was feeding those pigeons
when the killer grabbed him.

There's signs of a struggle, and then..

Looks like he was choked
to death with birdseed.

- Oh.
- Stripped and feathered

and left on display.

To humiliate him in death.

Mm. Appears so.

I'm no ornithologist...

but this doesn't look like
a pigeon feather.

It's more likely a bird of prey.
I found a few on him earlier.

Do you think the killer wanted
to make him look like a bird?

Tarring and feathering
typically represents revenge.

But this isn't tar.

Is that glue on your sleeve, Melvin?

Oh, yeah.

Must have happened this morning
when I was fixing baskets.

What wereyour movements this morning?

Ah, I was with my girlfriend.

I have a special routine
on race day. Starts off with...

Right.
We don't need the details.

One race to go
in the championship season.

- Mm-hmm.
- You were narrowly

trailing Virgil,
with Dimitri not far behind.

Hm. Hell of
a competitor was Virgil.

I'm pretty sure he used
a peregrine falcon to try

and take out my fastest bird, though.

A peregrine falcon?

- Natural predator to the pigeon.
- Oh.

Come out of nowhere, just as the
lead pack were arriving home.

A strange move for a pigeon enthusiast.

Virgil, he was a nutter.

Trying to get me
kicked out of the club.

- Why?
- Who knows?

He just likes to get
under people's skin.

Sounds like he got under yours.

Nah, he never bothered me.

Dimitri, though, he couldn't cop it.

He was convinced
that Virgil was cheating.

How do you cheat in a pigeon race?

Well, you switch birds.

You have a secret loft near the club.

- There's doping.
- Drugs?

Yeah, put a bit of cocaine in
with the seed

and watch the bird zing.

Apparently.

Anyway, well,
Dimitri couldn't prove it.

Must have drove him mad.

Mad enough to kill?

Virgil said he was going to
poison my best flyer,

Anna Karenina.

Heh.

Oh. Back you go, Anna.

Dimitri, what were you doing
this morning?

Well, Nick and I went
for a drive to Rosebud,

for a training run.

Left around, oh, 6:15.

Arrived down the peninsula around 7.

In the same car?

Nick and I don't have much in common.

He's a good deal younger
than I am. Swiss.

I prefer to share my drive
with Tchaikovsky.

♪ Da-da-da... ♪

Where did you go after Rosebud?

Uhh, I went straight home.

Is there a Mrs. Privalov
to vouch for that?

Mrs. Privalova.

And she died, uh, four years ago.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Carry on.

If you and Nick didn't get along,

why bother joining him
on a training run?

Oh, I was keen to get more miles
into my youngsters.

Nick's rehoming
some of their lesser flyers.

"Their"?

Well, Nick and Virgil were a team.

Nick's name isn't on
the championship board.

He was very much the silent partner.

Even though Virgil only started
winning once they joined forces.

How did Nick feel about that?

No one understood pigeons like Virgil.

He was fastidious about
breeding, diet, everything.

Do your birds fly to Virgil's loft?

I have other responsibilities
on race day.

I drive the truck to the liberation.

The liberation?

It's when the birds
are released for the race.

To watch a kit of pigeons rise as one,

before they must leave
each other to fly home

is, um, cathartic.

When did you last see Virgil alive?

Here, at his birthday drinks
last night.

Yesterday was Virgil's birthday?

So, who was the last
to leave the drinks?

Well, in the end,
it was just me and Virgil.

It's a good effort to drive to Rosebud

first thing in the morning.

I promised the birds I would.

What did you do
after you released them?

I drove straight home.

Can anyone attest to that?

My birds.

I clocked them when they got home.

Last to arrive was, uh, 8:55.

- I can bring you the timestamp.
- And the clock.

Anything to help catch
the monster that did this.

I can't believe someone would
commit murder over pigeons.

Toucans, maybe.

I understand the passion for pigeons.

- My dad raced them.
- Oh.

Yeah, as a kid, I loved waiting
and watching for his birds

to arrive home on a Saturday afternoon.

And what would you do
when they'd get home?

You... Do you throw them in the car

and drive as fast as you can
to the club?

No, no, you... you clock
your birds at home.

Here. I'll show you.

Before each race,
a numbered rubber ring

- is placed on each bird's leg.
- Mm-hmm.

And then the clocks
are synchronized and locked.

Locked clocks?
How very Dr. Seuss.

The clock must be tamper-proof
and accurate to the second,

because when the pigeon returns,
you remove their rubber ring,

you put it into the clock,

and then it stamps the exact time.

- Ingenious.
- Mm.

So first bird home wins.

No. Each bird's flying
to a different coop,

so the winner is the bird

with the fastest average flying speed.

- Oh!
- It's a sport

with one starting gate
and a thousand finish lines.

How do they find their way home?

Well, some believe that they sense

the Earth's magnetic field,

and others think
it's an internal compass

that relies on the sun's position.

No one knows for sure.

It's a beautiful mystery.

Hmm.

How would you describe
your marriage to Virgil?

You think Ikilled him, don't you?

S-Someone told you what I said!

Gladis! Slow down! It's alright.
What are you talking about?

A few days ago in front of everyone.

I told Virgil I wished
he'd turn into a bloody pigeon.

Oh. You're gonna lock me up
and throw away the key.

Go on, then. Get it over with.

Let's not get ahead
of ourselves, Mrs. Beasley.

So you and Virgil
weren't getting along?

I-It was just a little lovers' tiff.

Not that he could love anyone
as much as he loved his birds.

Your tea, Gladis.

Did you have any children?

Impossible, with Virgil sleeping
in the pigeon loft most nights.

That must have made you resentful.

It was my fault.
I'm a fitful sleeper.

What time did Virgil get home
from the birthday drinks?

Around midnight, drunk as a boiled owl.

H-He wolfed down some cheesecake
I'd spent all day baking

then stumbled out to his loft
in the backyard.

Did you see him this morning?

He... He didn't come in for breakfast.

Drove off like a man possessed!

- At what time?
- A-Around 7:30.

That's an hour earlier than normal.

What happened here?

Ugh. Virgil grunted something
about a set-to with Melvin.

- What about?
- I'm really not sure.

Well, you must have someidea.

All I know is that Melvin hated Virgil

and Virgil hated him right back.

Hm.

Melvin's top of my list.

He's fuming about Virgil trying
to kick him out of the club,

even if he tries to cover it up.

And his comment about
a rogue peregrine falcon,

that might explain
our mystery feathers.

We need to find
how they ended up on Virgil.

It's interesting that peregrines

are the natural enemy of the pigeon,

the pigeon being a monogamous
bird that mates for life.

- What are you implying?
- Nothing.

Humans live a lot longer than pigeons.

Speaking of monogamy...
did you notice

how Dimitri prepared Gladis' tea?

What are you talking about?
Tea is tea.

Tea is certainly not tea.

Dimitri was meticulous with the sugar,

and he even timed how long
he steeped Gladis' teabag.

I think there's something
going on there.

You are clutching at straws.

I think Virgil eroded
Gladis' sense of self.

You can't deny that's a strong motive.

If my husband slept
in a pigeon coop every night,

it'd drive me to something wild.

If the thought of having a husband

didn't make you run for the hills.

I haven't gone anywhere.

You're the one who seems
to have moved on.

We need to look more closely
at Thelma, too.

Why would she hire me to investigate

if she was the killer?

To throw us off the scent.

Virgil would have been
a tyrannical brother.

Thelma'd give as good as she gets.

That's exactly my point.

Her and Birdie are somewhat
of a mutual admiration society.

What is she reallydoing here?

A pigeon saved her life.

- Oh. That explains it.
- Hm.

Gotcha.

What's this?

Possible murder weapon.

Death by birdseed?

Could you analyze it for poison?

Of course. Fascinating!

What? What can you see?
Sodium cyanide? Cocaine?

Wheat, peas, corn, sunflower, sorghum.

Whoever created this
has an extraordinary knowledge

of avian diet.

Seems like Virgil Beasley

was more attuned to pigeons
than humans.

- You get that, I'll get this.
- Okay.

Adventuresses' Club of the Antipodes.

Peregrine Fisher speaking.

Peregrine, James.

I've been digging into
Melvin Delaine's police record.

Let me guess. A rap sheet
that would make Al Capone blush.

Mnh-mnh. No criminal offenses
in Victoria.

- Oh.
- But he only moved here

five years ago from Sydney,

after spending 18 months in jail

for assaulting and then tarring
and feathering a coworker

on the docks at Jones Bay.

So I'm getting him in.

Thelma Beasley here to see you.

Oh, I would love to stay and chat,

but I have a client to attend to.

The guy in Jones Bay
was skimming off the shipments.

He tried to pin me for it!

Oh, gee. Don't make it
too easy for us.

I tarred that feathered that rat
and I gave him a hiding, too.

Taught him a lesson.

But... he's still alive.

Maybe you taught Virgil a lesson, too,

and just went a bit too far.

Nah, I didn't touch him.

You had more of a motive
to kill Virgil.

He was trying to kick you
out of the club that you loved,

and I know that you said
he didn't get under your skin,

but maybe he just
pushed you to the brink.

I couldn't stand the buzzard!
Huh?

But if you honestly think
that I'm dumb enough

to tar and feather some bloke

when I've already done time for it...

You're a convicted criminal
who races vermin for fun.

I think you're plenty dumb enough.

I've done my time.

Your vermin, my pigeons, saved me,

and I'm a different person now.

Gee, Steed, we've heard some
pissweak excuses in this room,

but "pigeons saved me"
really takes the cake.

And your alibi's a lie.

Your girlfriend,
she hasn't seen you in weeks.

Well, you got me on that one.

I was home alone all morning.

But what did you want me to say?

I knew I'd been stitched up.

Well, you have no alibi
and a history of violent crime,

and all of the evidence points to you.

That's not my seed.

It's not Virgil's, either.
It's Thelma's.

Oh, and you would adore

my African grey parrot, Amelia Earhart.

Oh, she's a fiercely
intelligent creature.

You know which bird I really
love? For obvious reasons.

The peregrine falcon.

Oh, I have one!

- Oh!
- Sojourner Truth!

I named her after
the inspirational abolitionist

and women's rights activist.

Of course.

Is he permitted here?

On occasion.

Ms. Beasley.

- DoctorBeasley.
- DoctorBeasley.

Was your seed found at the crime scene?

Everyone's seed is different
and a closely guarded secret.

I knew it! He nicked my seed!

I'd kill him, only someone
got there before me.

Are you saying that Virgil was choked

with seed he stole from you?

Or the killer brought their
own seed to choke him with.

Tread carefully, Detective Steed.

I think that your
sibling rivalry with Virgil

was more serious than you let on.

Did you think I was joking
when I called my brother

a misogynistic fascist?

I haven't hidden anything.

Virgil wanted to make
the pigeon club men-only,

so I used Sojourner Truth
to remind him of feminine power.

- Sojourner Truth?
- A peregrine falcon named after

the inspirational abolitionist
and women's rights activist.

Obviously.

- GAH-GAH-GAH-GAH-GAH-GAH-GAH!
- Ohh!

That was the hideous sound
I woke to this morning.

Virgil trying to clip
Sojourner's glorious wings.

So that'swhy her feathers
ended up on him.

He was lucky she didn't kill him.

Oh, she left that to you.

I could never hurt Virgil.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Well, I don't know how satisfied
he's feeling now.

What were you doing before you got

to the pigeon club this morning?

I took Sojourner to the vet

to make sure she wasn't injured.

I do hope your investigation

is more advanced than this nitwit's.

Do you know

what parthenogenesis is?

Refresh my memory?

It is the wondrousprocess

whereby certain female birds

reproduce without any male input.

Meditate on that.

And find my brother's killer.

I likeher.

Aleks, I know you're there.

Did you find
our target at the pigeon club?

There's a definite likeness.
But it's not conclusive.

Oh! Come on. Aleks.

You knew him.

Twenty years ago.

Twenty years.

We are thisclose.

We need more proof.
An older photo.

Oh, how am I gonna get that?

Birdie.

They told me you still knew
what you were doing.

Oh. What do youthink?

Mm. It could go either way.

If he is who we think he is...

best keep your friend away.

Well, that's easier said than done.

Peregrine Fisher has inherited
her aunt's bloody-mindedness.

I'm sure you'll figure it out.

Ah. Nick Hoffman.

Norma Jean's ring, our clock,

and the timestamp from when
she arrived home from Rosebud.

8:55. It's consistent
with her other times.

How long does it take to drive
to the club from your house?

A little over half an hour.

Well, thank you for
your cooperation, Mr. Hoffman.

We'll be sure to get these back to you.

Yeah.

So, the morning of his murder,

Virgil Beasley
leaves home at 7:30.

Arrives at Thelma's
roughly 20 minutes later,

stoushes with her falcon, and
is gone by a quarter past 8.

Then he drove to the club,

which is a 15-minute drive
from Thelma's place.

Making his arrival around 8:30.

The other racers
filtered in around 9:30.

So, leaving time to commit the
crime and then flee the scene,

the murder must have occurred
between 8:35 and 9:20.

Ruling out Nick.

Mm.

Can I see what Samuel
makes of this clock?

He's a closet horologist.

- Clock expert.
- Oh.

- Sally!
- Oh! Sally!

Hello, Peregrine.
James, you ready?

Yes, we're all done here.

So, how's the investigation going?

It's good. It's good.

We've got our beaks in a few troughs.

Ah. Ah.

Would you like to join us
for dinner, Peregrine?

We have a 6:00 booking
at Toto's.

Oh. Uh...
Normally I would love to,

but I'm very busy tonight.
So many things to do.

And what do we have here?

Pigeon clock.

- Could you...
- See what makes it tick?

Sorry.

No. What's the rule?

- Never apologize for a pun.
- Never apologize for a pun.

- Ha.
- Samuel, do you have any idea

why Birdie's so invested in this case?

I gave up trying to work out
my sister years ago.

She's spying again, isn't she?

- No.
- Hm!

- Argh!
- But what's her interest

in thisparticular case?

Now, I-I didn't say that she was.

Y-You can't tell her
that I said she was.

Y-You can't tell anyone!

Samuel! Samuel, relax!

Ah, I'm finding that rather difficult.

I'm quite worried about her.

She's carrying a gun.

Hmm.

So that's why she's been acting
so strangely.

But why? What am I missing?

Where are you going?

Back to the crime scene.

It's not like I'vegot dinner
booked at Toto's.

Hm.

Birdie?!

Go home, Peregrine.

Why are you so interested
in this murder investigation?

I got what I came for.
That's all you need to know.

- Now let's go.
- What did you get?

You just be very careful.

You're acting like this is
my first murder investigation.

Peregrine...
you are out of your depth.

Now drop it, please!

I'm not gonna drop anything!

Oh!
Oh, damn it!

Birdie?

Who does she think she is,

making out like
I don't know what I'm doing?

What are you tangled up
in there, Anna Karenina?

"The cage is gone.

Now we are free.

Kiss. G."

Thank you.

I found this at the club.

It's from 13 years ago.

And look who turns up

in the back of one of the photos.

- What do you think?
- Yes, that's him.

I want to be the one
who pulls the trigger.

Oh, no, Aleks.
We're bringing him in.

We're bringing him in, or I'm out.

A love note from Gladis to Dimitri.

Anything you'd like to say to me?

You were right.
Tea is not tea.

- Mnh-mnh-mnh-mnh.
- I have to say,

I'm not entirely surprised
that love blossomed at the club.

My dad believed that the secret
to successful pigeon racing

was creating an intimate atmosphere.

Champagne. Candlelight.

Cooing.

He had a gift in just knowing
which birds were compatible.

And then once a cock and a hen
partnered up,

he'd take the fastest one out to race,

and then he'd leave
the other one in the loft.

It gave the racer an incentive
to hurry home.

Oh. That's sweet.

And a little bit manipulative.

It's brilliant, isn't it?

You and Gladis are having an affair.

That's... That's outrageous.

Gladis Beasley is a married woman.

Which is why you wanted Virgil dead.

- No!
- Okay.

That's what Gladis' note means.

"The cage is gone.
Now we are free."

I-I've been attaching silly notes

to Dimitri's pigeons for months.

It's just a little fun.

The note suggested
that now that Virgil's dead,

you and Dimitri
can finally be together.

Unless, of course, you are already.

Of course not!

I adore Dimitri.

He's kind, compassionate.

Oh, and there's so much more
to him than pigeons.

But we have neveracted on our feelings.

So what did the note mean?

That both our lives would be brighter

without Virgil's constant negativity.

Did she consider divorce?

On what grounds?
Infidelity with his pigeons?

With Virgil dead,
she doesn't need a reason.

For better or worse, he was
my other half for 32 years.

I could never hurt him.

What about Dimitri?

He's a lover, not a fighter.

- Hmm...
- Do you have any timestamps

from the training run out at Rosebud?

Why would anyone stamp a training run?

You only ever do it in a race,
when you need an official time.

Thank you.

It's been tampered with.

It took me pulling it apart
three times to work it out,

but...

once it's locked...

only the race official...

...can unlock it.

But... watch this.

- You can change the time.
- Huh.

An ingenious method of cheating.

- And fabricating an alibi.
- Oh.

So Nick could make it
look like he was at home,

clocking Norma Jean at 8:55...

Giving him plentyof time

to drive to the club
and commit the murder.

To go to such lengths,
Nick must have murdered Virgil.

Maybe he wasn't as happy about being

a silent partner as he made out.

But he seemed genuinely upset
about Virgil's death.

Jealousy just doesn't
feel like the right motive.

Doesn't matter why he did it.

We've got more than enough
to bring him in.

It's the race today.

He's probably halfway to
the liberation point by now.

- Then we need to step on it.
- Better take mycar.

To lie about your name,
your age, your... your life.

Not to have a photo for 20 years.

That takes some effort.

- He had a lot to lose.
- Mm.

Hans Einrich. Finally.

There he is.

Spp-spp-spp-spp-spp-spp-spp!

Birdie, you always said

the timing was wrong, for us.

What about now?

The war is over, isn't it?

Ohh.

Nick!
Can we have a word, please?

No! Aleks!

Wha... Come on!

Aleks!

Aleks, behind you!

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Oh, Aleks. Aleks.
Aleks, don't move!

- Birdie?
- Just catch him!

- Who is he?
- Just catch him!

Aleks. Just look at me.
Look at me.

Stay with me. Just stay with me.
Just stay with me.

Hey.

Aleks. Don't you dare.

Mój...

milosc.

No, no, no. No, no, no, no.
No, no, no, no. Stay with me!

Stay!

James!

Nick Hoffman, you're under arrest

for the murder of Virgil Beasley.

Oh, and a whole lot more than that.

Oh, we've been tracking you for years.

And, finally...

...here we are.

It's okay, Birdie.
He's under arrest.

Do you know who this is?

This is a tattoo of the German SS.

Meet Captain Hans Einrich.

He's a Nazi?

He's responsible
for thousands of deaths.

You tortured my Aleks.
You nearly killed him.

Twenty years.

How did you finally slip up?

Virgil's birthday drinks!

What did he find out?

Virgil found out I'm German, not Swiss.

Look, I haven't been this drunk
since the '38 World Cup.

Since we lost to the Swiss first round.

'38? What? Germany lost
to the Swiss that year.

You're hiding something, mate.

- Are you German?
- No. No, no.

So the next morning,
you convinced Dimitri

to meet you in Rosebud
to establish an alibi.

You drove to the pigeon club,

knowing that Virgil would be
the first to arrive.

You couldn't risk
Virgil revealing your secret.

And you choked Virgil
with Thelma's seed.

And then you glued and feathered Virgil

to make it look like
Melvin had done it.

You know what you've done.

You don't deserve to live.

- Birdie.
- I was following orders.

- Oh, spare me.
- Birdie...

You just couldn't stop killing.

These victims, they deserve justice.

And my Aleks, he deserves justice.

Birdie, I know this
might feel like justice,

but there's a better way.
Please, Birdie!

Birdie! Put the gun down!

After he killed Virgil, he went home.

And when his pigeon arrived,

he stamped the ring in the clock.

Which he'd managed to stop
so it was an earlier time.

Which gave him an alibi
for when Virgil was murdered.

There was a lot more to that
than we first thought.

Well done.

Oh. Team effort.

I should, um...

Yes, I should get Birdie home.

Aleksander, he was...

The cock to her hen.

Hm.

Do pigeons re-partner
when one of them...

moves on?

Eventually.

Thank you so much for everything.

Oh.

Women work for nothing far too often.

Yes, they do. Thank you.

Now that the business side
of things is over...

I was wondering if I might
invite you to dinner.

Oh!

Ohh!

Oh, that's a really
lovely offer, but I'm...

That detective has your heart.

What?! N-No.

Pheromones don't lie.

And when he's around,
yours are intoxicating.

They are?

Oh, well! Worth a shot. Heh.

I shall be in touch
about joining this place.

Good.

My brother's only friend was a Nazi.

Of course he was.

I'm so sorry, Birdie.

Aleksander and I were stuck
behind enemy lines.

We were trapped.

Hans Einrich had tortured him
for four days.

He was...

He was dying.

And every carrier pigeon we released

was shot dead by a Nazi soldier,

except Mata Hari.

And she was...
She was shot in the breast,

and her right leg
was completely blown off,

but she delivered our message.

Here's to you, Mata Hari.

- To Mata Hari.
- Yes.

And... to Aleksander.

Yes, and to...

Oh, Peregrine.

Oh, thank you for... for stopping me

doing something I would have regretted

because I don't need any more regrets.

I didn't think you were the type
for regrets.

Mój milosc.

What does that mean?

"My love."

Peregrine...

if it's within your grasp...

if love is there
for the taking, you seize it.

Do not wait for a better day,
because it may never come.

♪ You and I travel to the beat
of a different drum ♪

♪ Oh, can't you tell
by the way I run ♪

♪ Every time
you make eyes at me? ♪

♪ Whoa ♪

♪ You cry and moan ♪

♪ And say it will work out ♪

♪ But, honey child,
I've got my doubts ♪

♪ You can't see the forest
for the trees ♪

♪ So don't get me wrong,
it's not that I'm knockin' ♪

♪ It's just that
I am not in the market ♪

♪ For a boy who wants
to love only me ♪

Didn't they say this is
just what the doctor ordered?

- Oh, ho-ho!
- What is it?

Are there no other detectives
in Melbourne?

Morris Dunnet was an awful person.

He's not the type of victim
that Istand for.

Well, unfortunately, Peregrine,
I don't have the luxury

of choosing which victims
that I stand for.

- See that?
- Huh.

Yes, I-I'll just
give you some... some space.

Look who I found in the foyer.

Sally!
Be still, my beating heart.

Happy birthday.

You and Sally seem very suited.

- Suited?
- Both a bit...

- Conservative?
- Traditional.

Come on.
Who wants to dance, huh? Ha!

Whoo!

Peregrine, um, last night...

I didn't, um... I didn't do anything?