All language subtitles for Episode 7 - Game, Set & Murder

Ripped By mstoll

Aah! Aah!

It'll be exciting having
a tennis champion to stay.

Do you think Mrs. Burrows
will sign this for me?

I'm sure she'd be delighted to.

Don't think much of tennis,
but her pins are all right.

That's not why
she's in the paper, Bert.

Could have fooled me.

Hugh!

Dottie.

You hardly even wrote.

Well, I, uh...
I sent you postcards.

About fish.

Dottie, I'm sorry I left
in a huff.

I was confused about...

I was just confused,
but I missed you very much.

If we're going to get married,

you have to promise me
you'll never do that again.

Of course we're getting married.

What about your mother?

Well, I gave her a choice.

I said I could either marry
a virtuous Catholic girl

or a Protestant girl
with loose morals.

What Protestant girl?

No, there's no...
No one.

There's no Protestant girl,
but don't tell her that.

Oh. Ah.

She's given us her blessing.

Besides,
she's not going to argue

with a senior constable, now,
is she?

A promotion?

The inspector told the top brass

that if they didn't give me
the promotion, he'd resign.

Hugh!

I'm so glad you're home.

Very good of your aunt
to let us take over her court.

Will she be back
for the tournament?

No, not on your life.

No, Aunt Prudence can't abide
ball sports.

I thought she was just miffed
over missing our wedding.

I'm the one who's miffed.

Stanley, you're one of
my dearest friends,

and I had no idea.

We eloped, Phryne.

That's the whole point.

Nobody was invited.

And don't forget to split step.

Keep the contact point
in front of your body.

And you cut your honeymoon
short.

Oh, for the Sydney Cup.
I couldn't miss that.

And as Constance's coach,
I had to agree.

But we didn't mind spending
our honeymoon on the court.

Not literally, one hopes.

You'd better save some of your
firepower for the tournament.

With any luck,
we'll have a full house.

With Constance playing,
I have no doubt.

Mrs. Burrows, I was wondering
if you'd mind signing this.

Oh, no!

That windy day at Sydney Cup.

I'm practically naked!

I think you look divine!

So do I.

Oh, who took the shots?

Mr. Fredrick Burn.

Yes, I've had my encounters
with him.

It's always a dance
with the press.

A dance!

I want nothing to do with that
hideous man or his pictures.

Sorry, Miss Williams.
Of course I'll sign for you.

Thank you.

Miss Fisher!
Over here!

Belinda Rosewell.

She was Constance's --
Mrs. Burrows' practice partner.

She's much more than that.

She was a future champion
in her own right.

I can't believe this.

It'll be okay, darling.

These puncture marks look like
a spider bite.

Strange.

As far as I know, there are
no lethal spiders in Victoria.

As far as you know?

What about a redback?

A redback bite
wouldn't be fatal.

Whatever it was,
it was clearly in her shoe.

- That's my shoe.
- Your shoe?

Bel wanted to
stay behind after we left

to practice her serve,

but there was some problem
with her shoes.

I said she could borrow mine.

- What time was that?
- Around 3:00.

I'm sorry.

May we be excused?

You've shown
remarkable restraint

not investigating
till I arrived.

Oh, I'm happy for you
to be the scout, Jack,

while we wait and see

what kind of wildlife
we're dealing with.

Miss Fisher.

I found this in the hedge.

A broken shoelace.

Well spotted, Dot.

That explains why she was
wearing Constance's shoes.

Must have been
a fast-acting venom,

if it prevented the victim
from escaping the rotunda.

I must say, Hugh,
those new stripes suit you.

You know, I think the family
are all in England,

but there might be
some sort of address --

Spider!

Take this to the car, please,
Collins,

along with
Miss Rosewell's belongings.

Yes, sir.

Well, I've finally found your
Achilles' heel, Miss Fisher.

A fear of arachnids.

I'm not afraid.

I just like to know
where they are.

What's that over there?

Ohh!

Miss Fisher!

Lovely.

Now look right at me.

- Oi, clear off.
- Don't say anything.

It's Fredrick Burn
from The Globe.

You're a gift, Miss Fisher.

No.

Poor Miss Fisher.
I've never seen her like that.

How about you, eh?
Cool as a cucumber.

I love all of God's creatures,
Hugh,

though it does make it hard
when they kill people.

Dottie, you've brought
half the hedge back with you.

It's a Sydney funnel-web,
which explains a lot.

Their fangs are so powerful,

they can penetrate fingernails
and soft shoes,

let alone
the poor girl's cotton socks.

And when it's cornered,
it bites its victim repeatedly,

which explains
the multiple puncture wounds

and that local bleeding
on the foot.

Could you estimate
the time of death?

I'd say approximately 6:00 p.m.

Which explains
why no one saw anything.

Training finished at 3:00.

But a Sydney funnel-web?
Are you sure?

Certain.
It's distinctly odd.

This spider
isn't native to Melbourne.

It must have crawled
inside Mrs. Burrows' bag

when they were in Sydney
for the Cup.

Oh, how devious.

But highly unlikely.

This species hides away
in dark and moist places

and actively avoids light,
open spaces like tennis courts.

Mac, are you suggesting
human intervention?

I'm saying
that can't be discounted.

Which means the spider

could have been deliberately
placed in Constance's shoe.

A murder attempt on me?

Dear God!

I'm sorry to alarm you,
Constance,

but can you think of anyone
who may want to hurt you?

- Angela Lombard.
- Angela Lombard.

She never misses an opportunity
to put Constance off her game.

Angela's been world champion
for several years now,

but when you're up that high,
the only way is down.

With Constance nipping
at her heels?

Yes, and last I heard,

world champions don't take
kindly to that sort of thing.

This is the S.Y. Ena.
Isn't she glorious?

Angela's a keen sailor,

so I've arranged
to have her stay onboard

while she's here
for my tennis tournament.

- Your tournament?
- Yes.

And I'm holding a fund-raising
cocktail party onboard

tomorrow afternoon.

I never knew you were
so passionate about tennis.

I have many passions, Jack,

including women's rights.

Did you know the Australian
Lawn Tennis Association

pays for our men to compete
all over the world

and women have to pay
their own way?

It's a gross injustice!

If anyone's to address that,
it'll be you, Miss Fisher.

Somebody has to.

We can't all be married
to wealthy men like Stanley,

who's a tennis coach to boot.

Angela, on the other hand, is
in the midst of an ugly divorce

from her extremely wealthy
husband.

Leaving her
with financial trouble?

And a waning career.

Which makes her
a potentially desperate woman.

Well, if it isn't
the honorable Miss Fisher?

Who's your fella?

Hope your intentions
aren't honorable.

I'm Detective Inspector
Jack Robinson, Miss Lombard,

and we're here
on official business.

I'm afraid Belinda Rosewell's
been murdered.

You mean Constance's understudy?

That's lousy luck for the kid.

It certainly is,

especially since it seems the
intended victim was Constance.

You don't say?

Where were you
yesterday afternoon?

Below deck with Terence Lawson.

We left the court at your aunt's
house around midday

and stayed right here
for the rest of the day.

Doing what?

You're a red-blooded woman.

Take a guess.

Ange, who are you talk--

G'day, Miss Fisher.

Mr. Lawson.

You here for business
or pleasure?

This is
Detective Inspector Robinson.

We'd like to ask you
a few questions.

Down at the station, if I may.

What time
did you and Miss Lombard

leave the tennis court
yesterday?

2:00.

You sound very sure.

That's because I am.

Has Miss Lombard
ever said anything to you

about wanting to harm
Constance Burrows?

Don't you mean Belinda?

It appears the intended victim
was Constance.

Connie?

"Connie"?

We used to play mixed doubles
together.

But that's all there was
between you?

Not for the lack of trying
on my part.

I was keen on Connie,
like all the other blokes,

but all she was interested in
was playing tennis.

Must have hurt your pride.

Not particularly.

I had plenty of other options.

Terence Lawson?

We never socialized
off the court.

I can't see
why he'd want to kill me.

He admitted
he was enamored with you.

Really?

I always thought he was just
enamored with tennis,

like the rest of us.

Don't you think it's
the most glorious game, Phryne?

When I see a perfectly struck
ground stroke

or I hear the thwock of the ball
on the racquet

and I smell
that freshly cut lawn,

my heart almost aches
for the beauty of it.

It's no doubt tennis
is the love of your life.

Oh, it has some stiff
competition from Stanley.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

That's a beautiful dress.

Yes.

Except I haven't worn it
for a while

and it's rather too snug
at the moment.

Are you all right?

I'm trying to keep a cold
at bay.

That's why I've brought
my own brew with me.

Seems to be helping.

I see you, Burn!

Phryne?

I just saw that damned Fredrick
Burn lurking in the bushes.

Stay here.

Mr. Burn!

Leave immediately or I'll have
you arrested for trespassing.

Can't do a thing.
I'm outside the gate.

Stanley, we don't want
two murders on our hands.

Au revoir, ladies and gentlemen.

Poor Constance!

As if losing Bel isn't enough,

this could throw her
right off her game.

Oh, I know how that sounds,

but her training
for the U.S. Championships

is the only thing
helping her cope.

If that damned Burn...

My God, how could I
have forgotten?

Constance made
a formal harassment complaint

against him last week.

Last week?

In Sydney.

And the police told us

that he was already facing
other charges.

What other charges?

They wouldn't elaborate.

Well, this certainly warrants
a chat with Mr. Burn.

Morning, sir.

I thought you should see this.

"Is it love-all for
the Honorable Miss Fisher?"

"It seems the raven-haired
lady detective

has found a new ball boy
in Inspector Jack Robinson."

What do you think, Dot?

I think he's captured
our best angles.

Well, Collins,
if you'll forgive another pun,

I think I'm in for a serve.

Detective Inspector
Jack Robinson.

Yes, Commissioner.

Understood.

Goodbye, sir.

I am forbidden to solve cases
with a civilian.

Won't be long, Collins.

Thank you, Mr. Butler.

Jack, I have news.

Apparently,
Fredrick Burn is facing

a number of criminal charges.

I'll get Collins onto it.

Sign this.

What have I just agreed to?

You're now a Special Constable
of the Victoria Police Force.

How wonderful!

Don't I get a certificate
or something?

I've been saving this
since I was 10 years old.

For Buffalo Bill.

But you'll have to do.

Mr. Butler,
have you seen Miss Fisher?

She's just gone out
with the inspector.

Mr. Burn, open up!

It's Detective Inspector
Jack Robinson.

And Special Constable
Phryne Fisher.

What?

I didn't appreciate you lurking
outside my house yesterday.

That's harassment.

I don't harass people.

I'm getting sick of toffs
acting holier-than-thou

when they should be thanking me
for the exposure.

If this is about that pic
in The Globe --

This is about murder.

Constance Burrows recently filed
a formal complaint against you.

You can't have been happy
about that.

Constance Burrows
is a whingeing cow.

What's that got to do

with the young piece of skirt
that carked it?

Belinda's murder was intended
for Constance.

But perhaps
you already knew that.

How could I?

Where were you
on Tuesday afternoon?

Wherever Constance Burrows was,

but why would I
try and kill her?

I'm not going to bite the hand
that feeds me.

Snaps of that stupid bint
are my meal ticket.

And what are these?

So, Mr. Burn, I think this calls

for a closer look
at your handiwork.

If I find out
these photos were taken

after you were charged
with obscenity...

I'm not selling these.

They're art
for my own private edification.

- Art?
- Yeah.

If it was good enough
for Michelangelo...

These young ladies better not
have been coerced.

Don't get your silk
knickers in a knot, Miss Fisher.

They all volunteered
for a few spare bob.

See anyone you want?

- Hey!
- Thank you. Sit down!

That's my Lumberjack whiskey,
and you can't take that.

Lumberjack?

You can only get this in Canada.

Or America.

They smuggle it over the border
to cheat Prohibition.

You don't strike me
as a seasoned traveler.

Where'd you get it?

A friend.

Hello, Hugh.

I've brought you some evidence.

Lucky one of us
is working on the case.

No, I was just...

I was just checking something.

Oh, no.

What?

Look!

"It's a handful of fun for
Senior Constable Hugh Collins

and Miss Phryne Fisher's
companion,

Miss Dorothy Williams."

It looks like
you're touching my --

No, it doesn't, Dottie.
It doesn't.

But, Hugh,
it says "a handful of fun,"

so that's what everyone
will think.

You!

Collins!

Not my fault you can't keep
your paws off each other.

Get out of here
before I lock you up.

Oh, Dot.

What's my mother going to say,
miss?

And Hugh's mother?
She thought I was virtuous.

And anyone who knows you
knows that you are.

What's that you've got?

I found it when I went to repair
Mrs. Burrows' evening dress.

Virtuous and brilliant.

"Forever yours, Terry."

You mean Connie kept this?

Where did you find it?

Mr. Lawson, perhaps
you're missing the point.

This proves you lied to us.

It wasn't me.

All right,
Connie dumped me for Stanley,

and it stung, a bit.

Like I said,
I've got plenty of takers.

I don't doubt that for a moment,

but it remains abundantly clear

that your heart
still belongs to Constance.

How long were you
and Mrs. Burrows together?

We met when we were
tennis-mad kids in Horsham.

And what went wrong?

What hasn't gone wrong
this year?

I injured my shoulder
at the end of summer.

Then I missed out on the finals,

and then, just after Easter,

Connie ditched me
out of the blue.

Next thing I knew,
she'd married Stanley Burrows.

But she kept my picture.

She must still care for me.

And yet she married
my friend Stanley.

She must have had her reasons,
Mr. Lawson.

I'm so sorry, Phryne,

but you're one of Stanley's
dearest friends and I panicked.

I shouldn't have lied.

It won't help our investigation.

If you and Terence were a couple
long before you met Stanley,

then why the need
to keep it secret?

Because we...
we were intimate.

If the press ever found out,
they'd gladly drag me down,

all for the sake
of a youthful dalliance.

If that's all it was,
then why keep his photograph?

I forgot about it.

I don't want Stanley to find out
and get the wrong impression.

So, your husband doesn't know

about your history
with Mr. Lawson?

Yes.
He does.

It wasn't hard to see

that you'd thrown
the poor fellow over for me.

He's mooning around you
constantly.

Oh, Stanley,
Terence is rewriting history.

The fact is he always had
his eye on other girls.

Is that why you ended
the affair?

I was confused,

so I went away to clear my head

and realized that all I could
think about was Stanley.

And my forehand volley.

You should have been thinking
about your backspin.

I don't mean to make light of --

Aah!
Get it away from me!

Another spider?

A snake!

No, it's an eel.

You won't put me off my game
that easily.

Stanley, I'm sure
it's our turn on court.

Be my guest.

I need to cool off anyway.

I'll let you deal
with the bombshell

while I keep my eye
on the newlyweds.

Inspector.

Fabulous shot of you and
Miss Fisher in The Globe today.

Are you exclusively
Phryne's ball boy,

or do you spread yourself
around?

Only a glass?

You gave Fredrick Burn
a whole flask.

I wouldn't have thought
he was your type.

You got that right.

I prefer a man
with a gun in his hand.

Then why offer him
your good whiskey?

There's something between you,
isn't there?

Oh, honey, now you're
just sounding jealous.

I already told you.
I like you better.

Miss Lombard,
perhaps you don't realize

how precarious your alibi is.

Mr. Lawson recalls things
differently.

What can I tell you?

When a fella's with me,
he tends to get confused.

Now, Jack...
Can I call you that?

Why would I want to kill
that dumpy dame?

I'm having too much fun
throwing her off her game.

With Fredrick Burn's help.

All right, I confess.

So I've been paying Fred
to rattle her chain.

You know what they say.
All's fair in love and tennis.

Now, why don't I put on
my bathing costume,

and you join me for a dip?

Perhaps some other time.

Oh, if you're gonna
disappoint me, Inspector,

the least you can do
is untie me.

See?

That wasn't so hard.

Poor Dot.

You mustn't worry
about that photograph.

It will blow over.

I don't see how, miss.

My mother said that Hugh's not
the gentleman he pretends to be,

and Hugh's mother told him

that I've got no right
to wear white at my wedding.

Oh, dear.

What if Father O'Leary sees it?

I just want to curl up
and disappear.

No, Dot, this won't do.

You must stand proud
and laugh it off.

Can I do that in my room
with the door closed?

No.

I insist that you come
to my cocktail party

and show the world
you're above the fray.

It'll make you feel better.

Promise.

Dot?

Dot!

Dot! Dot!!

Ingenious, Miss Fisher.

So the intended victim
secured the area

by trapping a spider under a...

A what?

Just call it an internal device.

An... internal de--

Oh.

So, it seems
Constance's would-be killer

wants you dead, too.

I'm trying not to take it
personally.

At the very least,
to frighten you off.

I know you'll find this
unpalatable, Miss Fisher,

but with Mr. Burrows
in the house --

Jack!

Stanley is besotted
with Constance.

They're conquering
the tennis world together.

He's hardly likely to want
to try and kill her or me.

No, somebody came in
through the open window.

Look!

They tore
part of their clothing.

Is it white cotton, miss?
Could be tennis whites.

Terence Lawson
is athletic enough

to have made his way up here.

Fredrick Burn can wiggle
his way into most places.

In either case, they could have
been co-opted by Angela Lombard

to try and frighten me off.

I doubt she needs anyone
to hide behind.

And I found her reading
a very serious-looking document

when I questioned her today.

She left this envelope behind.

"Blue Spruce
Tennis Shoe Company.

Urgent."

Constable Collins and I

may need to attend your party
this afternoon

to conduct a search.

Oh, Jack, you can't.

A police presence
won't encourage people

to donate pots of money.

I'll find the document,
and you, um...

Oh.

Collins.

Champagne cocktail?

Thank you, Mr. B.
Anything to report?

The press have arrived.

Ladies.

Lovely. Lovely.

I'll stand over there.
No hiding.

You are standing proud
and laughing it off, remember?

Now, keep Angela busy for me.

I'll tell you what.

I'm glad
that goddamn lug's divorcing me.

Oh, sure,
I punched him once or twice,

but he tried to make me give up
my tennis!

Wanted to chain me
to the goddamn sink.

Say, honey,
didn't I see you in The Globe,

making out with your fella?

Good for you, kiddo.

You're one racy dame.

Cheers!

I spilled some champagne.
How clumsy of me.

Would you leave me alone?!

Miss Fisher.

What are you doing in here,
all on your own?

Oh, I'm just admiring
the woodwork.

Wouldn't mind buying
a steam yacht of my own someday.

You, uh, sleeping over?

No.

I don't own much.

I like to keep it safe.

Something wrong?

Just admiring
the cut of your jib.

Mind if I do the same?

Oh, is this a private party?

I'm missing all the fun.

I might go and find myself
a drink.

Say, did I mention that Jack
and me had a swell talk

this afternoon?

No, you didn't.

He sure knows how
to unhook a gal's dress.

Must be those strong,
manly fingers of his.

Well, it's so much better
when he does it with his teeth.

I'm trying so hard,

but I keep worrying that
you'll sneak off with Lawson.

I haven't spoken to him all day.

He means nothing to me.

I want to believe that,

but it took such a long time
for us to be intimate.

I told you.
I just needed to focus.

You know how I am
with my tennis.

But now I'm back in form.
We both are.

I still can't help feeling
you're only doing it

under sufferance.

What do you want me to do
to prove it to you?

Ravish you right here and now?
All right, let's do it!

Constance!

Shh!

Miss Fisher, you'll never
believe what I just heard.

All in good time, Dot.

Right now, we have a new suspect
on our hands.

But why would I want to kill
Miss Fisher?

Because I was getting too close
to the truth.

What truth?

That I tried to kill Connie
as well?

You people are stark raving mad.

I loved her.

I'd never hurt her.

I'd never hurt any woman.

Then how do you explain this?

I can't.

Unless someone set me up.

Whoever put that spider
in your bedroom,

they weren't trying to kill you.

What are you talking about?

I could have ended up
like Belinda.

No, you couldn't.

It's a trap-door spider.

Capable of giving a nasty bite
but not enough to kill.

So it was more likely
a practical joke.

Well, I fail to see the humor.

And the motive remains
the same --

To scare me off the case.

And to frame Terence Lawson
at the same time.

Do you think
you can get rid of that now?

It's important evidence,
Miss Fisher.

So is this,

but you're not seeing it
until that disappears.

That wasn't so difficult, now,
was it?

An endorsement contract.

Potentially.

An agreement

with the Blue Spruce
Tennis Shoe Company of Utah,

owned and operated
by the Zollinger family.

A most Mormon-sounding name.

Angela wins all her matches
in Australia,

she'll be given
a lucrative endorsement deal.

But if she loses even one,

the deal is off.

That's quite a motive.

Needless to say,

she didn't mention any of this
when I interviewed her earlier.

Before or after you helped her
out of her dress?

Just be careful Fredrick Burn
doesn't catch you at it.

Oh, Phryne.

What happened
with Terence Lawson?

Was he charged?

Oh, it's all circumstantial,
Stanley.

He was questioned and released,

but we'll certainly be keeping
an eye on him.

I'd better get this
up to Constance.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Good night.

Poor Stanley, he's so devoted.

I hope Constance
isn't toying with him.

Let's see if she's hiding
any other evidence of Terence.

Take her handbag.

I'll check through her coat.

Sorry!

Oh, dear!

Stanley hasn't become
any neater, I see.

I don't think there's anything
in here, miss.

Oh, no.

All right, Belinda and I had...

an arrangement.

But it only happened once.

Only once?

Really, Stanley?

Yes.

Belinda was a beautiful girl,

and if you'll forgive me
for saying,

I know that your marital
relations weren't perhaps

what you would have hoped
they would be.

Are you sure you didn't
fall in love with Belinda?

Oh, that's ludicrous.

You were carrying around
her photograph.

Yes, but that's got nothing
to do with love.

You must know that.

So, if we could please not
mention this to Constance...

We'll be telling
Mrs. Burrows everything

if we find out
you tried to kill her

so you could be with Belinda.

Phryne,
surely you can't believe this.

All right, Mr. Burrows.
You can go now.

Whatever his mores,
I find it difficult to believe

that Stanley
would want Constance dead.

Unless he wanted Belinda dead.

Are you suggesting Belinda was
the intended victim all along?

And we've been hoodwinked
into thinking it was Constance.

You do know that would keep
Stanley Burrows in the frame?

Well, if he's innocent,
we'll prove it.

And if he's a murderer,

he's no friend of mine.

Perhaps he killed Belinda
to cover his shame.

Or maybe Constance found out
and killed her.

I'll re-examine
Belinda's belongings

and look into her associations.

Fredrick obviously knew her
quite well.

Yes.

Time for another chat
with the charming Mr. Burn.

He's far too slippery
a customer, Jack.

I have a better idea.

How well did you know
Belinda Rosewell?

Can't recall.

A little less clothing
might jog my memory.

You heard my terms.

One item
per satisfactory answer.

Take it or leave it.

All right, all right!

She was posing for me
for about a year.

Why didn't you
tell us this before?

The poor girl's dead.

It's not as though you needed
to protect her reputation.

We had an agreement.

I was paying her to take
sneaky pics of other players,

especially Constance.

I thought Angela
was paying you to do that.

No.

Angela was paying me
to rattle Constance,

but Belinda could get
a lot closer than me.

So I gave her a cut.

Handy little arrangement, too,
until Belinda called it off.

Why did she call it off?

You made the rules.

Now, can you lean forward?

No.

Why did Belinda call off
your arrangement?

She said she was being paid
better money

to do special favors
for somebody else.

What special favors
and for whom?

I don't know,

but the last time I saw her,
she had to leave early.

She said she had a meeting
with Constance

about a private matter.

A private matter?
Indeed!

Are we finished already?

I haven't got all my shots.

But I've got all the answers
I came for.

And now, as a Special Constable
of the Victoria Police,

I'm confiscating this film.

When you held this
private meeting with Belinda,

was Stanley
the topic of conversation?

Yes, he was.

Were you angry because you
found out they'd been intimate?

No.

Not exactly.

Constance, I suggest
you tell me the truth now,

or things are going to look
worse for you.

It's just I don't want to make
Stanley a laughingstock.

Why would he be a laughingstock?

The truth is
I asked Bel to seduce Stanley

as a favor to me.

I know you'll judge me harshly,

but I'd fallen behind
in my tennis

and I needed
to get back on track.

I just didn't have room
for Stanley's needs.

But I felt dreadful for him,
so Bel helped.

Excuse me for saying, but it's
an odd attitude for a newlywed.

If you didn't have time
for Stanley,

why marry him?

Because he's a good man.

And a good coach.

He understands me.

And Terence?

He was just a fling.

In any case, he's not wealthy
enough to support my career.

But Stanley is.

At least you could afford to pay
Belinda for her special favors.

What do you mean?

I didn't pay her.

Mrs. Burrows,
the big day's here.

I've got your...

Mrs. Burrows, are you all right?

Perfectly.

You're running a temperature.

No, it's just warm in here.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

I don't think
you're well enough to play.

Of course I am.

I can't miss
Miss Fisher's tournament.

Phryne.

Good morning.

Constance.

Dot, I'm off to see
the inspector.

Excuse me.
I should get ready.

Miss, I'm worried about her.

She's putting on a brave face,
but I think she looks ill.

She's been feverish for days.

And this tea she's been drinking
seems to have made it worse.

Smells like sage.

Perhaps she's being poisoned.

- Poisoned?
- Well, it's possible.

She carries this brew around
with her everywhere.

Someone might have slipped
something into it.

Let's ask Dr. Mac to test it.

If Constance is being poisoned,

perhaps she was a target
all along.

The killer didn't succeed
the first time,

and they're trying again.

If that's the case,
why the payments to Belinda?

Well, that was a red herring.

Constance swears
she didn't pay her.

Somebody did.

Two large amounts above
and beyond Fredrick's bribes

were deposited
into Belinda's account

in the last two weeks,

in cash,
so they couldn't be traced.

Would you get off my desk,
please?

Why?

Just remove yourself,
Miss Fisher.

I'm quite comfortable,
thank you.

Not fair, Jack.

I just searched
Mrs. Burrows' bag.

No eels or spiders.

Oh, thank goodness.

Here's the lovebirds!

We going to cop
another handful today, eh?

"Copper cops a handful."
How does that sound?

Hey! No.

Listen here, you vulture.

If you ever come near my fiancée
again,

I'll have you locked up so fast
you won't know what hit you.

And I'll throw away the key.

You got it?

Mm-hmm.

That's telling him, Hugh.

Perhaps there's something
we missed in Belinda's things.

I really must get to the tennis.

Wait.
What's this?

There's something in there.

Jack, there's a false bottom.

City South Police.

Yes, Dr. Macmillan.

Are you sure?

Well, thank you
for rushing that through.

No sign of poison
in Constance's tea.

Another dead end.

Not necessarily.

A whole new avenue
has just opened up.

Look

If ever I was in any doubt
about their relationship...

They're numbered 1 to 10.

11 -- £50.

12 -- £100.

Those are the exact amounts

deposited
into Belinda's account.

So Belinda was paid to hand over
the last two photographs.

Which, judging from these,

must have been
extremely compromising.

Especially for someone trying to
attract financial support

from a conservative, religious
tennis shoe company.

All right, you got me.

I had to make sure my deal
with those God-fearing fellas

didn't bite the dust.

So you killed Belinda
to keep her quiet?

No!

I just paid the kid
a lot of dough for the photo.

I want to see it.

Sure you do.

If that tennis comp
was more exciting,

we wouldn't have had
to amuse ourselves that day.

Where's the other one?

What other one?

This is number 11.

The twelfth photo's missing,
too. Where is it?

Well, I thought
there was only this one.

Excuse me, Miss Fisher,
but we're about to start.

Miss Lombard to serve.

Not behind your baseline,
Constance.

Move forward!

I can't believe that man's
still walking around

after what he tried to do
to you.

Why would Angela lie about
buying that twelfth photo?

Unless she didn't buy it.

Someone paid Belinda
£100 for it.

Terence couldn't afford that.

I'm not sure if we can put it
down to modesty with Angela.

Every woman has her limits,
Jack.

So, who else could have paid
Belinda for that twelfth shot?

Maybe the clue lies
in number 11?

Game.

Miss Lombard leads by one set.

Refreshments will now be served
on the south terrace.

Jack, is that Constance
in the background?

Yes.

What's she doing?

Having some kind of
trouble with her tennis dress?

Not her dress.

Of course.

The champagne, the sage tea,

her sudden disappearance
from the tennis circuit.

It all makes perfect sense.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please resume your seats.

Mrs. Burrows, I suggest you
forfeit the match due to injury.

What?

But I told Miss Williams.
It's only a cold.

But it's not a cold,
is it, Constance?

And you lied to us
about paying Belinda.

You paid her
a great deal of money,

and it wasn't for any favors.

We're giving you a choice.

Forfeit now or we'll arrest you

for the murder
of Belinda Rosewell

in front of everyone here.

Resume play, please, ladies.

Ladies, resume play.

It's your choice, Constance.

- Mrs. Burrows to serve.
- All right.

Ow!

Oh, Mrs. Burrows!

Connie, what is it?

Hey, what's the holdup, honey?

Ladies and gentlemen,

I'm afraid to say

that Mrs. Constance Burrows
has injured her ankle

and has to forfeit the match.

Please join me in congratulating
our winner, Mrs. Angela Lombard.

Phryne, you've made a mistake.

If anyone's responsible,
it had to be Lawson.

Why else would he plant
that spider to scare you off?

What's that on your arm,
Stanley?

What?

Looks like a spider bite.

It was you who tried to scare me
off and frame Terence Lawson.

I was just trying to protect
Constance.

When did you realize
she'd killed Belinda?

I was jealous.

I was searching
through her things.

That's when I found the jar
she must have kept it in.

You never said a word.

I thought I could save you.

Constance Burrows,

as a Special Constable
of the Victoria Police Force,

I am arresting you for
the murder of Belinda Rosewell.

What's going on here?

The photograph made me reflect

on the stain on the bodice
of your dress

and the champagne
you supposedly spilled

and the fever you'd been
combating with sage tea,

a remedy
for threatening mastitis.

You've given birth,
haven't you, Constance,

and quite recently, too.

Birth?

Why would a woman
who's obsessed with tennis

take time off the game?

Or a newlywed arrange
for her husband

to be seduced by another woman?

This baby.

Does that mean --

Yes, Terence, it was yours.

- Where's the baby now?
- Taken care of.

I paid for a good home.
She's fine.

But Belinda had a
photograph of you with the baby,

didn't she, Mrs. Burrows?

And she was using it
to blackmail you.

I paid her £100 for it.

She promised
that'd be the end of it,

but I got scared.

What if she had another copy?

What if everyone found out

and I couldn't go
to the U.S. Championships?

I want to beat Angela
on her home turf.

So Belinda had to go.

You sabotaged her shoes
so she'd have to use yours.

So, you killed Belinda
because she knew about our baby?

And then you gave the baby up
without even telling me?

How could I tell you?

You'd want me to keep it
and get married and settle down.

I didn't want any of that!

But we were in love!

I loved playing tennis with you.
You used to be good.

How could tennis matter
this much?

Because tennis is everything!

It's the only thing
that ever mattered!

It's the only thing I love,

and if I hadn't been so stupid
and wound up pregnant,

I could have been
champion of the world.

We'll need to speak to you,
Mr. Burrows,

in regards
to withholding information.

Forgive me, Phryne.

Love made a fool out of you,
Stanley.

Jack.

Miss Lombard.

Is it true?

Constance killed that poor kid
for her career?

I'm afraid so.

Hmm, gee,
I thought I played hard.

If you ever get tired
of Miss Fisher

and want to play ball with me,

I'll give you
the best game you've ever had.

I think we both know
that's a challenge

I won't be accepting.

Goodbye, Miss Lombard.

Ugh!

I aced you, Miss Fisher.

You just caught me off guard.

You're actually, uh, quite good,
you know.

Thank you.

I learned at the police academy.

Speaking of which,

there's a certain
lack of attention to detail

in your arrest paperwork,

so I'm retiring you
as my special constable.

I see.

I suppose you'll be
wanting your badge back, then?

Well...

No.

No, I think you've earned
the badge.

Game, set,
and... murder solved.

Ripped By mstoll