All language subtitles for miss.fishers.modern.murder.mysteries.s01e01.720p.hdtv.x264-orenji[eztv]

- ♪ Wait ♪
- ♪ Oh, yes ♪

♪ Wait a minute, Mr. Postman ♪

- ♪ Wait ♪
- ♪ Wa-a-a-it, Mr. Postman ♪

- ♪ Mr. Postman, look and see ♪
- ♪ Oh, yeah ♪

♪ Is there a letter in your bag
for me? ♪

♪ Please, please, Mr. Postman ♪

♪ Oh, yeah ♪

♪ Oh, you got to wait a minute,
wait a minute ♪

- ♪ Oh, yeah ♪
- Executive meeting.

Camelot Room.

It's arrived.

Well, after
an extensive 12-month search

in Papua New Guinea, this, um...

this is
all we have left of her.

Found after a landslide
in the Wahgi Valley.

So, they've given up?

Officially, yes.

But my very dear friend
Tribal Chief Kabui

is eternally grateful
that the mystery

of his son's disappearance
is solved,

and he's promised me that he
will never stop looking for her.

And if anyone could survive
a plane crash in the jungle,

it's Phryne Fisher.

Who will
stand up to all the bullies

and bigots in this town?

Well, it's up
to all of us now, Violetta.

'Cause God knows
how we could ever replace her.

♪ La, la, la ♪

♪ La, la, la ♪

No, no, this one's too tight.

Oh. Here.

So, what happened to the job
at the pharmacy, dear?

- Oh, you know.
- Same thing

that happened at the bakery.

Oh! Tea break!

15 minutes, Peregrine!

Sure.

- ♪ Why can't a girl ♪
- ♪ Why can't a girl ♪

♪ Be satisfied ♪

Steady!

Give it some more!
Give it some more!

♪ Yeah, right by her side? ♪

Yeah!

- Ohh!
- Whew!

So... what do you think?

Oh, I love it
when you buy new toys.

Oh, yeah?

How much?

♪ Why can't a boy ♪

♪ Be satisfied ♪

This much.

Come on.

Whoo!

Aah!

Peregrine Fisher!
How long was this perming lotion

on Mrs. Judd's hair?

Too long?

I'm so sorry, Mrs. J.

That's it.

Hand over the uniform
and get out.

We all know you've had
a hard time

since your mother died,
sweetheart,

but unless you change
your attitude,

your life will amount
to even less than hers did.

"Please attend urgent meeting
regarding your inheritance."

Inheritance?

Bye, Mum.

This time, I really am going.

I love you.

♪ Ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah ♪

♪ Today I met
the boy I'm gonna marry ♪

♪ He's all I wanted all my life
and even more ♪

♪ He smiled at me,
and the music started playing ♪

♪ "Here Comes the Bride" when
he walked through the door ♪

♪ Today I met
the boy I'm gonna marry ♪

♪ The boy whose life and dreams
and love I want to share ♪

The bow is perfect,
and so are you. Off you pop.

♪ ...a band of gold
appeared before me ♪

♪ The band of gold I always... ♪

My biggest show of the year,
Maggie.

Is it too much to expect
that my own wife

should show some interest?

It's all right, Mother.
We're here now.

Looks like Florence
has outdone herself.

You look gorgeous.

I've checked, Florence.
No one's seen her.

Oh.

♪ When we kissed,
I felt a sweet sensation ♪

♪ This time,
it wasn't just my imagination ♪

♪ Today I met
the boy I'm gonna marry ♪

♪ He's just
what I've been waiting for ♪

Has Barbie turned up?

- No.
- Has she even telephoned?

- No. Sorry, Miss Astor.
- I can't believe it.

She has missed
the entire parade.

And totally ruined the finale.

♪ Today I met
the boy I'm going to marry ♪

Okay, Pansy, this one's yours.

- Go get dressed.
- Yes!

Barbie's next.

Looking forward to that.
Looking forward to it.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

Oh! Oh!

Barbie!

Everyone out!

Everybody out!

- Now!
- Oh, my God.

Help me get her down!

Poor Barbie.

Look at Harvey White over there.

He's practically crowing.

I'm sure our customers
will remain loyal, Mr. Blair.

Oh.
Chief Inspector Sparrow.

Oh, yeah.

Come through.

Steed, do we know
how Barbie Doll died?

Uh, Barbie Jones, sir.

Looks like she was strangled
with some kind of a cord,

but there's no sign
of a murder weapon.

Any idea when?

Miss Jones' landlady
has confirmed sighting her

late last night at her home.

We're assuming
sometime early this morning,

before the store opened.

Blair's missus
looks like a bit of a worry.

Mrs. Maggie Blair.
She didn't arrive until late,

with her son, Colin,
assistant manager.

And what about the staff?
Who else was around?

Well, uh, Mr. Terence Blair.

His secretary, Joyce Hirsch;
Miss Astor, the designer.

The other models
were in the dressing room.

We've got the head storeman,
Lewis Knox, down in the...

R-Righto.

Uh, these clothes
belong to the victim?

I'd say removed with force,
maybe after she was killed.

So our killer
could dress her like a fairy.

A bride.

This world is full of weirdos.

♪ Girl, I see you
walking down the street ♪

♪ You're the one
that I want to meet ♪

♪ Yeah, you know,
you look so fair ♪

♪ High heels on
and long blond hair ♪

- ♪ Stand there ♪
- ♪ Stand there ♪

- ♪ Stand there ♪
- ♪ Stand there ♪

- ♪ Hey, girl ♪
- ♪ Stand there ♪

- ♪ Stand there ♪
- ♪ Stand there ♪

- Good morning!
- Hello!

Are you here for the lecture?

Well, no.
What lecture?

Oh, hi.

Uh, who are you here to see?

Uh, I don't really know.

Do you have an appointment?
Or a password?

A... A what?

On your appointment card.

Oh. Uh, maybe.
Hang on.

Sorry. All the appointments are
held later on in the afternoon.

- We'll be happy to see you then.
- Oh.

Uh, but...

Here. No, I have it!
I have it.

I... Hello?!

Women are on average
lighter, smaller,

and require less oxygen.

And American space testing
last year

proved that women candidates
surpassed the men.

Oh! Oh!

And so...

...first human to complete
an orbit of the Earth in 1961.

...then helped train
an all-female cosmonaut corps

recruited from 400 applicants.

And just last year,
Valentina Tereshkova,

the only woman so far...

And so Yuri Gagarin's
most important achievement

is not becoming
the first Russian cosmonaut

to be launched into space...

Aah! Uhh! Oh!

...but becoming the trainer
for five women candidates

who hope to follow
in his footsteps.

Thank you, Violetta.

Let's hope that brings us
one step closer

to that first woman on the moon!

Oh!

Kookaburra!

Oh!

Here. Here!

The password.

Who the hell are you?

I'm Peregrine Fisher.

Does anyone have a ladder?

A lawyer has instructed me to
distribute your aunt's estate,

so that is what I must do.

Here is the key to your house.

- My house?
- And the key to your car.

Oh!
What kind of car?

Why?
Will you be giving it back?

Probably not.

Wow.

What about this club?

Do I get to be part of this?

Oh!
Do I get this chair?

- No!
- No!

Ms. Fisher, that's not
how this club works.

Every woman here is remarkable.

Ineke Horchner.

The first woman to climb
Mount Kilimanjaro.

Michiko Sato,
international fencing champion.

Minni Bell,
world-renowned botanist.

Violetta Fellini,
professor of microbiology,

Melbourne University.

Florence Astor,
champion of the trouser suit

and liberator
of women's fashion.

- She's late this morning.
- Yes, but she did just sign

a contract with Ryan's
of Fifth Avenue in New York.

And my sister, Birdie,
fought for the Resistance...

- Samuel.
- Okay, well,

yeah, I get the picture.

What about my aunt?

What did she do
that was so remarkable?

You don't know?

My mother never talked
about her family.

She just said that she was
the abandoned love child.

Your aunt
didn't abandon your mother.

Her philandering father
only confessed on his deathbed

that Phryne had a half-sister
and...

...oh, she was desperate
to find her.

But every letter that Phryne
wrote to your mother

was returned.

Unopened.

So my aunt never knew I existed?

But I think
she would have liked you.

You were both backstage,
Mr. Lewis.

Did anyone see the deceased
arrive for work this morning?

No one doing the show.

We just thought
Miss Jones was running late.

It wasn't unusual. Barbie had
a habit of holding everyone up.

Seems surprising that no one
noticed her up on that cake.

We were under strict
instructions not to touch it.

Florence Astor
is very particular.

Should have heard the argument
she had with Barbie yesterday.

Really?

Do you know where Ms. Astor
is now?

Right.

My wedding show was a disaster.

Florence, weddings
are always a disaster...

- for the bride.
- Mine was murdered.

Barbie Jones is dead.

How awful.

I turned around, the curtains
went up, and there she was...

- on the cake, dead.
- Did you see the photo?

Kissing the lifeguards?

Best of luck, Ms. Fisher.

She was young,
she was beautiful.

She had her whole life
ahead of her.

That's motive enough for some.

The police have been asking me
all sorts of questions.

Maybe they suspect you
of something.

Of what?
Who is this girl?

Meet Peregrine Fisher, Florence.

- Phryne's niece.
- Really?

- I had no idea.
- None of us did.

Oh, I miss Phryne.

And God knows I need
a good detective right now.

A detective?

Is that what she was?

Doesn't run in the family
does it?

Well, no,
I don't think so, but...

I'm more than happy
to give it a whirl.

No, detecting was
not a "whirl" for your aunt...

It was a vocation.

It's one fraught with danger
and heartache.

So maybe you should simply
be happy with your windfall,

- Ms. Fisher.
- She was only trying to help.

Well, if you ever prove yourself
half the investigator

that your aunt was, please feel
free, come back. Offer again.

Maybe you'll let me
in the gate next time.

Thanks for the patch-up.

I still think your password idea
was a good one, Samuel.

- Oh.
- Here.

Adventuresses' Club?

Yes, Detective Steed.

I'll just see if Miss Astor
is here for you.

Are you sure
this is the right address?

Yep.
It's the one you gave me.

Oh, wow.

♪ You will shout
when it hits you ♪

- ♪ Yes, indeed ♪
- ♪ Yes, indeed ♪

♪ Yeah, you'll shout
when it hits you ♪

- ♪ Yes, indeed ♪
- ♪ Yes, indeed ♪

♪ When that spirit hits you,
you'll holler, "Yes, indeed" ♪

- Thank you.
- ♪ Yes, indeed ♪

♪ Yes, indeed ♪

Who are you?!
What are you doing here?!

You better get out of here
before I call the cops.

You do that, girlie.

What?

Hey!

Oh!

17, 18, 19... 21.

Oh, that bastard!

No.

No.

Hello, beautiful.

Whoo-hoo!

I need to report a theft.

Um, have...

Have you seen the front desk?

Yes, it's very nice.

Somebody broke in
and stole one of these.

Number 20, to be precise.

They belonged to my aunt.

Oh, well, now I guess
they belong to me.

You're Phryne Fisher's niece?

Peregrine Fisher.
Did you hear what I just said?

He was a horrible man in a bad
suit with no manners and...

Is this young lady
giving you trouble, Detective?

- No.
- Not yet.

Chief Inspector Sparrow.
Peregrine Fisher.

Fisher!

That's right.

And you trespassed.

Well, I'm really glad
you dropped by, girlie.

We can have a little chat

and get a few things
straightened out.

If you'd like to step this way.

Yes, I will.

I go wherever I want

in this town.

Anywhere, anyhow.

Because I've earned it.

You wanna debate that?

You could wait for an invitation
next time.

Your aunt was the bane
of my life,

and the day I heard she crashed
was a very happy day for me.

But you, little Miss Fisher,
you're just a little fish.

And if you start to annoy me,

I'll come after you
and batter you

and cook you and eat you up.

Long time, no see, Birnside.

Miss Astor is here
for her interview.

Well, I hope
it goes really well,

now that you've lost
your henchwoman in the jungle,

along with
her filthy allegations

about this town's constabulary.

I've got no idea what
you're talking about, Sparrow.

You may as well
be speaking Swahili.

Though she does
actually speak Swahili.

Florence, why don't you wait
for me inside?

Go on.

Oh!
It's the long-lost niece.

Yes, I am.

Come and sit here, Miss Astor.

No.

You know, you really

- shouldn't be riding this.
- Why not?

Because
of that broken headlight.

I don't have a broken...

Yes, you do.

- What?
- Oh.

Forgive me, Chief Inspector.

I thought we were conversing
in Swahili.

Miss Astor,
there is an interview room

and the chief inspector
needs to be here for this.

I thought you were a detective.

Or have you just stolen
somebody's desk...

Detective J. Steed?

- James.
- Your tea and biscuits,

Detective Steed.

Oh, thank you, Constable.
I appreciate that.

I'm sorry.

Was she a policewoman
or a tea lady?

Because she... Oh, she looks

awfully like a policewoman
to me.

Constable Connor
is a... junior officer.

Look, the only thing
you need to know is,

I didn't kill Barbie.

I wouldn't kill anybody.

So, where's your evidence
that she did?

Where is your murder weapon?

Barbie was my friend.
What reason do I have?

Exactly! Motivation.

What motivation
does Florence have?

What sort of sense
does it make for Florence

to sabotage her own fashion show
with a dead body?

- None! Zero.
- Listen, a lot of people...

A lot of people do things
that don't make sense,

and your friend here
had a public row yesterday

- with the deceased.
- Oh, good. You're getting

the hang of this.

But a row?
Florence, that's not good.

It was just a silly argument.

She claimed the dress
was too tight

and didn't want to wear it.

I knew it was nonsense.

Barbie just didn't
like the boned bodice.

Right, well, I don't even know
what that is, so...

Well, do you think
boofhead out there

knows what a boned bodice is?

You, out!

You come with me.

Well, you took your time.

Took the tram.

Did you get the house, too?

Yes.

Now all I have to do
is convince them

that I might be good enough
to do her job, as well.

I mean, how hard can it be?

You start with a body,
you figure out

how they were murdered,
you line up the suspects,

and then find out
what you can from the cops.

The right cops.

You can't just decide
to be a detective.

I've been through the academy,
and I've done three years

- of extra training.
- And while you were stuck

in that police station
getting other people

to make you cups of tea, I have
spent years in the real world.

When did you leave school?
8?

- 6?
- 15.

Oh.

You know what?
I can pipe pink icing

onto 100 finger buns
in five minutes.

I can tease three beehives
in an hour,

compound enough nerve pills
to knock out

an entire mothers' club
in an afternoon,

and I can rebuild an EH Holden
from the wheels up

in three days with one spanner.

Okay, you may have
picked up some life skills.

So, did she have a husband
or a boyfriend?

Neither.

Well, when did she die?

Sometime early this morning.

Well, that's not very precise.

- Can you tell me how she died?
- No.

No, I can't. I'm still waiting
on the coroner's report.

Why am I telling you anything?

I have an appointment
with Terence Blair.

Oh. And I have
so much shopping to do.

So, Mr. Blair,
how long had Miss Jones

been working as your lead model?

Uh, about six months.

She approached Colin initially.

Yeah, she said she needed
to leave White's.

Do you mean H.R. White's
across the road?

- Yeah, that's right.
- Did she say why?

No, and I didn't ask
for details.

It's tricky taking on
Harvey White's staff.

We try to respect each other.

- No one wants an all-out war.
- Yes, of course. Just excuse me.

I need to check something.
Thank you.

Can I help you?

I was just looking
for the powder room.

Miss, this area of the store
is out of bounds

- to the general public.
- Is it?

Is it all right if I still use
the storeroom for my ladies?

They don't like to be dumped
in strange places.

Yes, of course, Mr. Knox.

Great.

Look at this.

From last summer.

"Barbie Jones...
Australia's top model

and the elegant face of
H.R. White's department store."

Mm.
She left them six months ago.

Oh, she must have been
such a catch for Blair's.

If I was Mr. H.R. White,

and I wanted revenge on Blair's
for poaching my star model,

murdering Barbie Jones in public
wouldn't be a bad way to do it.

She wasn't poached.
She left.

No.
He said that she had to leave.

That was a private conversation.

What about that storeman?

- Don't you think he was creepy?
- No.

- I'm escorting you out.
- Maybe he did it.

Come on.

So, how well
did you know my aunt?

Well enough to get me
into trouble with my boss.

You two
could have that in common.

You helped her, didn't you?

If Sparrow finds out
you've been interfering

with this investigation,
we are both done for.

- You should talk to Mr. White.
- Miss Fisher.

- Okay, I'm going.
- Thank you.

Hi!

Oh! Florence.

I was only here to collect
a few of my things.

- Oh.
- I've been staying here a bit,

just to keep an eye on things
for your aunt.

Well, come back inside.
You're my first visitor.

Well, first official one,
anyway.

Did you hear that?

Yes.

- Where did you find that?
- Glovebox.

And after the day I've had,
I'm ready to use it.

Stay here.

Don't!

- It's me! It's me!
- What?

- It's me!
- What are you doing here?

Oh, Samuel!

I was clearing out my workshop.

Your aunt said I-I could use
her shed while she was away.

As long
as I didn't use, um, chemicals.

Yes, Samuel had
a bit of an accident

at the Adventuresses' Club.

I blew up the kitchen.

Three times.

I'm sticking more to electronics
and gadgets now, like that one.

- You made this?
- Mm.

Well, where's your workshop
gonna be now?

Well, I'm sure I'll...

...I'll find somewhere.

Well, you can stay here
in the meantime.

I don't mind.

- Really?
- Mm.

I figured out what was causing
the explosion, so...

That's... That's good.

I'd still keep
a fire extinguisher handy.

Mm.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Cheers.

- Mmm.
- Mmm.

You should have a housewarming.

Oh
well, I don't know anybody here.

Invite the other Adventuresses.

We are very good at parties.

What about Birdie?
She hates me.

No, Birdie doesn't hate anyone.

She just has
impossibly high expectations.

Well...

I am hoping to surprise her.

Look at this.

- Whoa.
- Well, don't look at her face.

Look at her legs. Closely.

Oh, uh, wait.

Hmm?

Oh! How cool!

See her stockings?

Well, that's odd.
They're not a matching pair.

But what do
mismatched stockings mean?

Well, for a start, it means that
Florence didn't put them on her.

No, I wouldn't do that
to any woman.

So there must be a missing
stocking from the original pair.

- You're thinking...
- That a stocking

is a very convenient
murder weapon.

Here. Top up?

Oh! She's a natural.

- And a fast learner.
- Mm.

We just have to convince
your sister of that.

- Mm.
- What I also want

to know is why that oaf Sparrow

stole
one of my aunt's notebooks.

Well, each book
is a different investigation.

So, why would he want number 20?

You could always look
at the microfiche backups.

- The what?
- I transferred all the notebooks

onto microform when I was
testing my new machine.

I've got the whole collection.

Of course you do.

Come on.
I'll show you.

Oh.

- Mm.
- Mm-hmm.

♪ Move, baby, move ♪

♪ Get in the groove now ♪

♪ Move, baby, move ♪

♪ Get in the groove, girl ♪

Mm.

Your aunt
never liked mornings either.

Wait right there.

Ohh.

Phryne had impeccable taste
in clothing,

and she would want you to wear
everything in her wardrobe.

About the only thing missing
is a little black dress

that she took off in.

- To New Guinea?
- Mm-hmm.

You can never go wrong
in a little black dress.

Oh!

No wonder you're tired
and slept in.

How much of this notebook
did you copy out?

Oh, all of it.

Do you remember my aunt
investigating a raid

on a brothel called, um,
Madame "Lion"?

Madame Lyon.

Yes, vividly.

She was rumored to be
in possession

of incriminating photographs
of policemen.

The building was half-destroyed,
and Madame Lyon

accused the police commissioner
of attempted murder.

My aunt believed
the photos existed,

and she said that she had proof.

Maybe that's
how she kept Sparrow at bay.

Maybe.

I'll get it.

Hello?

Detective Steed for Ms. Fisher.

Come on in.

I'm sorry to drag you out of bed
before midday.

Oh, I'll forgive you.
Coffee?

No.
I want my, uh, photograph back.

I was just borrowing it.

Besides, I think I've worked out
what the murder weapon is.

You can't expect me to take you
seriously in those pajamas.

Oh, for goodness' sake.

Look closely at Barbie's legs.

Her stockings don't match.

Oh. And?

One of them
was used to strangle her.

Tell me when you work out
where it is.

I checked out police files
last night, too.

Found out Harvey White

tried to charge Barbie Jones
with assault.

Oh, I knew there was
more to that story.

What kind of assault?

There's not much on file.
Charges were dropped.

So maybe he took justice
into his own hands.

Maybe I'll interview him
before I decide that.

Oh, that's a good idea.

I know the way.

I'm not giving up
on this detecting thing,

no matter what Birdie says.

No, definitely not.

You leave Birdie to me.

Oh!

You do remind me of Phryne.

Absolutely beautiful.

You can't expect
a young woman like that

to take the risks
that her aunt took or...

or to hold her own
against Percy Sparrow.

It would be like sending a lamb
to slaughter.

As you were.

Call it what you will, Birdie.

Good instincts,
something in the blood...

I think she has it.

So, as club secretary,

I would like to move
that we allow Peregrine Fisher

to apply to become
a fully fledged Adventuress.

Yes! Yes!

- Oh!
- Peregrine.

- Hmm?
- Good news.

Ms. Fisher.

Before we accept
your application

to become an Adventuress,
there are certain tests

that you need to pass
for your own safety

and to prove that you
are fit for this job.

Yes. Yes, of course.
Whatever it takes.

- Whatever I have to do.
- Good.

Because you'll be competing
against another candidate.

Someone I propose
as an alternative investigator

to Barbie Jones' death.

Who?

Prepare the pistols.

Pistols?

This is not right.

You're a man.

Don't worry. They'll never
give me full club membership.

They might give you the case.

It's biased.
She's your sister.

Believe me, that won't help.

Three shots.

- Gentlemen first.
- Sure.

Ready?

And...

...fire.

Okay.

Oh, will you look at that?

Where did you learn
to shoot like that?

Rabbits.

I said three.

You need to listen.

Next!

Ladies first.

- What are they?
- Picklocks.

Oh, no, it's okay.
I've got my own.

First to unlock their drawer.

Everybody ready?

Go.

Got it.

7.4 seconds.

She's broken the club record.

What the hell did you use?

Bobby pin.

Works every time.

Next.

All right. Whoever makes it
to the other side

in the shortest time.

Samuel!
You're to go first.

I don't mind going first.

I said Samuel.

Look, do...
do we really have to do this?

I mean, you know
that I'm the one.

I want this so badly.

Yes.

Luck has been on your side
so far,

Ms. Fisher,
but this is make or break.

You fail this, you fail it all.

Well, that's not fair!

It's club protocol.

Samuel!

Take your time.

Prepare.

Concentrate.

Ready?

Go!

No!
No, no, no! Stop!

Stop! No, we can't do this.
Somebody's gonna get hurt.

I thought you wanted to be
an Adventuress!

I do.

I really do.

But not at any cost.

To be clear,
what exactly are you saying?

I'm saying that

Samuel can have the job.

Yes, you passed!

- Ohh! Well, thank God!
- What?

You were all
really, really convincing.

You had me worried.

You tricked me?

Dispiace.

So the shootout,
the lock picking...

That was all a setup?

Misericordia ante gloriam.

"Compassion before glory."

You do need certain skills
to be a detective,

but to be an Adventuress,
we need to be sure

that you will not sacrifice
your comrade for your own ends.

And you refused.

Congratulations.

Oh.

Well, in that case...

...time for glory.

- Oh!
- Oh!

Peregrine, no!

Dio mio!

Ms. Fisher.

Life is precious.

Don't you ever risk yours
unnecessarily again.

And her disguise.
It will need to be convincing.

People have seen her there
already,

and Percy Sparrow
will be after her.

We will make sure not even
we will able to recognize her.

Yes, and she should take
the powder compact magnifier.

And I have a wonderful
new cassette recorder

which might just fit
into your handbag.

Oh, and what about a poison dart
blow pen which can paralyze...

That's a bit much,
don't you think?

You're chasing a murderer,
Peregrine.

Make no mistake...
It will be a perilous mission.

Oh, I just love your aftershave,
Mr. Blair.

It's Old Spice, yes?

- Mm.
- I have a nose for scents.

I bought my first bottle of 4711
right here with my late mother.

We just loved shopping
at your store.

Yes, well, um, Miss Astor
seems very impressed with you.

- Oh.
- "Punctual, reliable,

shows initiative."

Well, I try my best.

Well, as per our store policy,

we will be interviewing
further candidates.

Sounds like you don't need to,
Colin.

Well, you realize that this
is an entry-level position?

Yes.
I'm willing to do anything.

I just love your store.

Very well.

The job's yours.
9:00 to 4:00.

- On trial, of course.
- Of course.

Well, welcome to Blair's.
Miss Foster.

Well!
You won't be disappointed.

When do I start? Today?

Well, if you like.

Oh, how exciting.

Good to see somebody happy
around here.

Well, if you head down
to the staff supply room,

they'll organize a uniform
for you and show you around.

Wonderful.

Just this way, Mr. White.

What are you doing here, White?

I was invited
by the constabulary.

Ah, the bachelor boy.

Married to the store.

She's not much fun in the sack,
I'll bet.

- Leave it, Dad.
- We can do this interview

at the station if you prefer,
Mr. Blair.

No, it's fine.
Go ahead, Detective.

Thank you.
Just through there, sir.

Just tidying up for you,
Detective.

Uh, so, um,
Barbie Jones left your employ

about six months ago,
is that right?

She didn't leave.
I sacked her...

when I found out she was having
a bit too much fun,

- if you know what I mean.
- No.

Well, there are good girls,
and there are good-time girls.

Lucky I play golf
with the local chemist.

He let me know what kind
of a girl Barbie was.

She was trying to get hold
of that new pill.

I put a stop to that
quick smart.

I was raised a good Catholic,

and we have a lot
of Catholic shoppers.

So you sacked her
because of her private life?

There's only one reason
a pretty young thing like that

wants the pill, now,
isn't there?

I sacked her on moral grounds.

Was that when she assaulted you?

She went crazy.
Slapped me around the chops.

Charges never proceeded.
Did that make you angry?

Nah.
I was the one who dropped it.

Oh.

All in the past now.

But it was regrettable.

She was a good little earner.

- And a real looker.
- Thank you, Mr. White.

'Scuse I, sweetie pie.

Oh, geez!

I am so sorry, sir.
Oh!

- Stupid girl!
- Wa...

- Please tell me he's guilty.
- Well, it doesn't sound like

Mr. White is out for revenge.

So, Barbie was after the pill.

That means there must have been
a boyfriend after all.

Turn around again.
Show me the back.

No, too fast.

Oh, Barbie knew
how to do this for me.

Sorry, Mrs. Blair.

I suppose you'll have
top billing now she's gone.

I'm not sure what our customers
will make of that.

This dress comes in cherry red,
too, Mrs. Blair.

No, too vulgar for me.

No, I'll take it in the blue.

Terence loves me in blue.

That cow!

I've worked at this shop
for 10 years,

and she doesn't even know
my name.

Oh, I do.

You're Pansy Wing,
and you're famous.

- Have we met before?
- Oh, no, I'm new.

I just... I just started.

But I wanted to say how much
I love your modeling.

Just focus on the distance,

think pleasant thoughts,
and make like a shop dummy.

Well, you're much better
than that.

Is it true
that you're going to be

Blair's lead model
now that Barbie Jones is gone?

It would have happened anyway.

- Her work was slipping.
- In what way?

Barbie was always late
to work in the mornings,

moody, refused to come out
and party with the rest of us.

And she wasn't eating properly
either.

Lived on crackers and soda.

It was so nice to meet you.

Autopsy report just arrived.

Don't worry.
I paid for my own tram ticket.

Oh, nice to see you out of
the tearoom, Constable Connor.

Don't tell me...

- She was pregnant.
- Well...

Pansy Wing let it drop
in passing.

Well, the soda and crackers
was the clincher.

Any luck with the boyfriend?

No.

Well, you know what that means.

He was taken.

Married, engaged,
or he already had a girlfriend.

Isn't someone showing you
around, Miss Foster?

My fault, Mr. Blair.
Had a few questions.

Oh, Miss Foster only joined our
staff today, Detective Steed,

so I'm afraid
she'll be no help to you at all.

That's right.
Thank you, sir.

Off you go.

How did you even get in?

Terence, calm down.
I said I'd handle this.

Yeah. The usual.

It is absolutely under control.

Yes, sir.

Damnation.

- Chief.
- Yeah, what's this?

- That's the file for...
- Why are you still wasting time

on the details
instead of hauling in

that crazy woman
who put on the dress show?

- Florence Astor?
- Mm.

Well, I'm not sure that we have
enough evidence against her.

Then why the hell not?
She was in the right place,

she had the ding-dong catfight
with dead Barbie Doll.

She's part of that coven

- of mad women.
- Yes...

Then why is she
still out there on the street?

Now stop crossing your T's
and dotting your I's, Steed,

and get out there and show a bit
of bloody gumption instead.

You're lucky
I finished work early.

Ha.

So, what do Blair's think
about a messenger girl

driving a car like yours?

Oh.
Well, it's a nuisance.

I had to park three blocks away.

My heart bleeds for you.

I was looking for Miss Astor.

Samuel Birnside said
she might be here.

She wasn't at the club.

Uh, not right now.

Maybe she's at her salon.

I've just been there,
and no one's been working there

for a very long time.

Some of this mail
is over a month old.

Well, that's odd.

Does seem to be
a few odd things about Florence.

If you see her, tell her I need
to ask her a few more questions.

- Florence.
- Ohh!

Gosh, you gave me a fright.

Well, I'm not surprised.

What are you doing here
all by yourself?

The salon was far too busy.

Detective Steed went
to your salon to find you.

It's your mail.

It's mostly overdue bills.

Florence, what's going on?

The, um, contract with Ryan's
in New York fell through.

I was so sure
it was gonna happen.

And I'd spent a fortune on
the fabrics for the bridal show

and, um,
launching my wallpapers,

and then it all evaporated.

I'm so sorry.

How long
have you been covering it up?

I had to sack my cutters
and sewers weeks ago.

They're good women.

I'd known them for years.

Florence, there's this letter
from Barbie Jones...

...demanding that you pay back
the money that she gave you.

Yeah, she, um...

She agreed to loan me enough
to help tide me over.

Just until I had orders
from the bridal show, and, um...

...and, suddenly, she just
wanted it all paid back.

Did you know
that she was pregnant?

No.

Poor Barbie.

Oh, God, what a mess.

Detective Steed does have
some more questions for you.

How about I go with you to the
police station in the morning?

Mm.

Come on.
Let's go home.

I just have to finish
this little black dress.

You can't stay here alone.
I'll wait with you.

It won't take me long.

- I'll be fine.
- You sure?

Yeah, I'll be fine.

Thanks.

Oh, come on.

Oh!

Oh, for God's sake.

It's her.

No.

The police say it's suicide.

No, Florence wouldn't do that.

Well, the door to the lift,
it was deliberately wedged open.

If only we knew
how bad things were.

We have to go back,
and we have to tell the others.

Peregrine?

I'm coming.
I've got the car.

Don't be long.

I, um...

I made it myself.

Maybe you were right.
I'm not cut out for this job.

Oh, Peregrine.

It's my fault.

I shouldn't...
I shouldn't have left her.

- I should have known better.
- You're not responsible

for what happened, Peregrine.

If I'd just stayed with her.

I should have stayed!
I should have...

Of all people, I should know

that if you leave
somebody alone like that...

- And I-I flunked...
- Stop it, stop it.

Peregrine, stop it.

Florence didn't kill herself
because you left her.

I don't know
exactly why she died,

but I do know
that the police are wrong.

About what?

He said that
she'd killed herself in remorse.

For murdering that Barbie Jones.

- Sparrow?
- Oh, who else?

Florence owed Barbie money,

and Percy Sparrow thinks
it's an open-and-shut case.

Well...

Well, we have
to prove that it's not.

We have to clear
Florence's name.

Exactly.

Oh, for a minute there, I
thought you were gonna give up.

Well, so did I.

Be very careful.

I will.

Looks like you were right
about how Barbie was strangled.

- Someone's planted that here.
- The bridal show

was Florence's last chance
to fix everything,

and when Barbie
demanded the money,

she couldn't see
a way to pay her.

That was the last straw.

You're wrong.

Florence didn't kill Barbie,
and she didn't kill herself.

She was murdered,
and I think I can prove it.

- With a shoe?
- Please, James.

Look at it closely.

What can you tell me about it?

Size 8, barely worn,

and...

...and the toe's
almost snapped off.

So a... a fall, perhaps,
or some kind of struggle?

This is a match
for Florence Astor's other shoe.

The one that she was wearing
when she was found.

So why did I just find it
here in the storeroom

two floors below the scene
of her alleged suicide?

She saw something
she shouldn't have.

Who do you think pushed Florence
down the lift shaft?

The same person
who killed Barbie Jones.

The same killer
who's still on the loose

somewhere
in this department store.

Mother!

Let me take those for you.

- Give us a hand, will you?
- Oh.

Excuse me.

Colin, thank you.

Here we are, Mrs. Blair.

Oh, I really like your necklace.

- Where's it from?
- Ceylon.

My husband bought it for me
on one of his many junkets.

- Oh, it's beautiful.
- Would you take this shopping up

to Father's secretary,
Miss Foster?

- Oh, with pleasure.
- Thank you.

- Come on, Mother.
- Now, the tearoom I want you

to take me to is a very...

No calls.
Thanks, Joyce.

I've been asked
to give you these.

More shopping?

I've never seen her wear
half the things she buys.

And this.

Mrs. Blair's medication.

- Is she unwell?
- Nervous breakdown.

It's been hard for her

since her modeling career ended.

Oh, she's still so elegant,
isn't she?

She tried to talk Florence
into putting her

on the catwalk for the
bridal show instead of Barbie.

Imagine that.

Because Mrs. Blair's too old?

And she's away with the pixies
half the time.

Oh.

She wandered away from home
the other day for a walk

and just didn't come back.

It was the morning
of the fashion parade.

- Really?
- Mm-hmm.

Oh, poor Mr. Blair.

Colin Blair's the one

who spent hours
at South Yarra Police Station.

He's always the one who ends up
worrying about his mum...

...while his dad
hides in his office

and spends almost every night
playing squash.

Oh, Inspector Sparrow.

Just a minute, please.

I know the way.

Some people have no manners.

There you go.

- Thank you.
- Mm-hmm.

There you go.

Feels a little
on the light side.

It's what we agreed!

I just saw your boss
take a bribe.

That is a dangerous accusation.

Terence Blair just handed
Sparrow a fat wad of cash.

Maybe he was donating to
the Police Youth Citizens Club.

Well, that's one theory.

Yes, because theory comes first,

and then, before you throw
around outrageous accusations,

you need cold, hard evidence.

Like the cold, hard evidence
I have about Maggie Blair?

She was once a famous model
who had a nervous breakdown,

and she was full of resentment
about Barbie Jones' success.

Yes, that might all be true.

But Mrs. Blair was at home
on the morning of the murder,

with her son.

Well, I'd check her alibi

with the South Yarra police
if I were you.

- How did you...
- Oh!

- Ooh!
- Here, let me take that for you.

Thank you.

She's a real handful.

Yes... she most certainly is.

Here we go, Ethel.

Back with the girls.

Oh, you might want to be
a bit gentler.

Yeah, Florence
used to say that, too.

Do you mean Florence Astor?

Mm.

Did you know her very well?

Of course I did.

Very sad.

Yes, isn't it?

I just... I loved her designs.

Her clothes, her wallpaper.

I just met Mrs. Blair.

Does she come into the store
very often?

Uh, mostly
outside opening hours.

Her son lets her wander around

and approve
of the window displays.

While Mr. Blair plays squash.

- Hm.
- Huh?

Joyce said Mr. Blair
likes playing squash.

Oh, is that what she called it?

Well, I know he likes to play,
that's for sure.

- Oh.
- Mm.

What are all these?

Accessories for the
window displays and the parades.

The models like to put dibs
on their favorites.

- It's a beautiful necklace.
- Mm.

"Pansy Wing."

Excuse me.

- Deliveries.
- Mm.

- Excuse me. Miss Wing?
- I'm in a bit of a hurry.

Some of the labels
on the accessories got mixed up,

and I just wanted to check
if this was yours.

Yes.
Oh, gee. Thank you.

Don't want to lose that.

You know, it's so funny.

Mrs. Blair was wearing one
almost identical to that.

- Hmm?
- So you might not want

to flash it around
while the cops are still here.

What are you talking about?

That thing that some men do, you
know, when they buy presents.

One for the wife,
one for the mistress.

There's no imagination.

You're starting to annoy me.

You think I was having
an affair with my boss

just because I'm a model?

No.
It's none of my business.

You're right.
It's not.

And for your information,

this necklace
belonged to Barbie Jones.

She would have wanted me
to have it.

- Mr. Blair gave it to Barbie?
- Mm.

So, you don't think that Barbie
and Mr. Blair were...

Ohh.

Are you sure
you don't need my help?

I'm always very happy to speak
to a handsome young man.

No, Mother.
You just finish your tea.

Anything to do with
police business, I'll handle.

The morning of the murder,

you said that your mother
was at home.

Yes, that's right.
Check your notes.

Oh, I have, Mr. Blair,

and I just telephoned
the South Yarra police,

who said that she was missing
that morning.

Well, she just went
for a little stroll.

From 6:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m.?

That's quite a stroll.

Okay, look.

My mother has a very serious
nervous condition, Detective.

Recently she attempted
something very silly,

and the doctors increased
her medication.

So even if you asked her,
I doubt she'd be able

to tell you what she did
for those three hours.

Colin, are you sure
this is my usual tea?

- Excuse me.
- Doesn't taste like it.

- Yes, Mother.
- It's more herbal,

and you know that I prefer root.

I know.

Oh.

It is you.

Why are
you hanging around Blair's?

Shopping.
It's a department store.

Don't you lie to me,

- little fish.
- Oh!

Aah! Aah!

Oh, God!
Hide this!

Sparrow's after me.

Usual place.

Open up!

Police!

Ah, Inspector Sparrow.

Move away, Birnside.

This is a raid.

We have nothing of interest
to you here, Inspector.

I don't know.

This looks pretty bloody
fascinating. What is it?

It's an intimate female message
machine, Inspector Sparrow.

Very effective.

What did you hit him with?

Just my handbag.

Uh-huh!

As far as I'm concerned,
little fish,

one of you crazy ladies
was a killer.

And that's what I'll be telling
the papers,

along with charging you with
assault with a deadly weapon.

Well, that would be a shame,

because we might have
to tell the papers

about what my aunt
knew about Madame Lyon.

It's all allegations.

There's no proof.

Well, you obviously didn't read
my aunt's notebook properly.

Like the part where she said
she had evidence.

You're bluffing.

Maybe. Maybe not.

Are you prepared to risk
your career over that?

Give you 24 hours.

If you hand over the evidence,
I'll hold off telling the world

that this club
was harboring a killer.

Good night, ladies.

Come on.

Oh!

Ugh!

I hope this was worth it.

Oh.

Let's find out.

"Squash." Well...

- "Squash."
- "Cocktails."

- Squash."
- Gosh, he plays a lot of squash.

Yes, but that address.

That's nowhere
near a squash court.

And I have to tell you,

Sparrow's after something
much more valuable than a diary.

And we need to find it.

Do you remember that notebook
he stole from my aunt's house?

Well, she said
something there about...

What do I have to do to make
this sink in for you lot...

wear a sign on my forehead?

Cardboard ring folders
do not go in the incinerator.

Well, it wasn't me.

- That's what they all say.
- Wait!

Isn't this the Jones/Astor file?

- Mm-hmm.
- This is an autopsy report

on Florence Astor.

- Mm.
- Who was trying

to incinerate it?

Sparrow said he was
wrapping up the case.

Don't say I gave you the folder.

And don't get caught.

Night!

"Like the goddess, Madame Lyon

breathed life
back into her fallen lover,

and so the goddess now guards
the evidence of his secrets."

- Hello?
- It's me.

Uh, Detective Steed.

Come up.

- Evening.
- Evening.

Pay close attention
to the coroner's report

on Florence Astor's injuries.

Cause of death... repeated
blunt-force trauma to the head.

Oh, Florence!

Sorry.
Maybe that wasn't a good idea.

Well, it clearly wasn't suicide,
was it?

No.

No, it's proof of foul play,
but... but we can't use it.

Chief Inspector Sparrow
didn't want me to see it.

He tried to archive that.

You just said "we" can't use it.

Maybe the pajamas
are growing on me.

Listen to this
from Barbie's landlady.

"I made her flick her lights,

just so I knew
she was home safe.

She was a pretty girl,
and I worried

about her coming home late."

I wonder where they came up
with that.

Maybe her landlady had reason
to worry about her.

To think of that
pretty young woman's life taken.

It breaks my heart.

You know, she told me
how much you looked after her.

You know, like getting her
to flash her lights

at 10:00 every night.

Oh, our little sign.

I think she did it
just to make me happy.

Oh. She signaled you
that last night, didn't she?

Oh, yes, and I gave her my wave.

I still see her
standing by her window.

She was wearing
that beautiful lime-green dress.

She would look out for a bit,
have a nightcap, and smoke.

Do you think she was worried
about anything?

Was anyone bothering her?

An old admirer, perhaps?

She never said anyone.

And once, when I thought
she had a stalker,

she said I was ridiculous.

- A stalker?
- I never saw anyone.

Just a blue van...

parking in our street sometimes
at night.

From one of those big emporiums
in the city.

When was the last time
you saw this van?

Two nights ago.

There was only one driver
with a van

out the night of the murder.

Ah.

Well, uh, I thought I'd answered
all your questions.

Double-checking a few things
that are on my list.

So, you were saying
you had deliveries the day

- that Barbie Jones was murdered?
- That's right.

And according
to Blair's records,

you had the van out
the day before.

So, what, are you allowed
to keep it out overnight?

Uh, well, technically no,

but Florence asked me
to pick up some props

for the bridal show
early that morning.

See, but that doesn't account
for all the other times

you had the van out
for the night.

Well, uh, look,
I visit my girlfriend

a couple nights a week, and...

her place
is miles from anywhere,

so I usually stay over.

Can your girlfriend
vouch for your whereabouts

on the morning
that Barbie Jones was murdered?

Well, of... of course,

but does she really need
to be dragged into this?

If I could have her name
and address.

Pansy, just tell them
you can't come.

I can't say no. They've asked me
to go to the station.

Stay calm.

No one's accused you
of anything.

We can't tell them the truth.

There is something very strange
about these photographs.

Apart from being a damning
commentary on marriage?

The way this blood
is pooled indicates Miss Jones

was placed upright on the cake
soon after she was murdered.

The coroner reached
the same conclusion,

- based on the livor mortis.
- But there was an assumption

that Barbie Jones
died that morning.

The morning
of the fashion parade.

This is where I disagree.

The pattern in the bruising
around Miss Jones' neck,

the lips, and the fingers...

All indicate the victim had been
deceased for at least 12 hours.

- Probably more.
- Wow.

So the science is saying
that she died the night before?

- Yes.
- And Florence was with me

the night before!

That puts a whole lot of people
back in the frame.

Oh, no, no.
But Barbie's landlady

said that she saw her alive
until late the previous evening.

- Did she strike you as a liar?
- No.

Unless Anya only thought
she saw Barbie the night before.

Where's
Florence's autopsy report?

Strands
of synthetic orange fibers

were found
between the deceased's fingers.

Yes, Modar acrylic fibers.

And the coroner says
it is possible

that these fibers
are from the fabrics

Florence was sewing
that evening.

But they can also make wigs
from Modar acrylic fibers,

can't they?

Well, you're the ex-hairdresser.

Come with me.

Oh, good. Still here.

Look, James.

Someone with no experience
in hairdressing

has tried to make this wig
look like Barbie Jones' bob cut.

I thought
she was a natural redhead.

She was. I don't think
it was Barbie that her landlady

saw standing in the window
that night.

I think it was this dummy,
dressed up in the wig

and a green dress
to look like Barbie.

- By Lewis?
- Well, I'm keeping an open mind,

but he does have access to the
mannequins and to Blair's vans.

It's Harrison's for Hair.

I could find out who ordered it.

Lewis could have killed Barbie
for Pansy's sake,

but then... then why would
he have killed Florence?

Well, Florence must have seen
the killer that night

with the wig. Otherwise, why
else would she have the fibers

- in her fingers?
- Right.

We have new evidence
that Barbie Jones

was murdered
some time on the evening

before the bridal show.

Well, how does that involve me?

Blair's delivery van
was seen parked outside her flat

that night, Mr. Knox.

What are you saying?

I'm saying
that you're our prime suspect.

What?
No, you've got this all wrong.

I booked that van out
for someone else.

Someone else? Who?

Pansy wanted me
to keep my trap shut

because I could lose my job
over this.

You could lose a lot more, mate.
Come on.

I've got this regular
arrangement with my boss,

Mr. Blair.

Terence Blair.

He has personal appointments
every week,

but his car attracts
too much attention,

so he asked me to book this van
out for him for those nights.

Well, why wouldn't he
just take one? It's his store.

Well, I don't think
he wanted anyone to know.

I leave it a block away
with the keys on the wheel hub.

Do you know the nature
of Mr. Blair's

personal appointments?

I wasn't asking questions.

He offered me a £10 bonus
each month.

Pansy and I are trying to save
for a house deposit.

And he's the boss.

Get Mr. Terence Blair
on the phone right now.

You're lucky you caught me.

I just need to find
the purchase order.

It should be on that.

- It's model number 2389.
- Okay.

If I can find out who ordered
it, I can ask Harrison's

about their returns policy.

I trained as a hairdresser,
and I know

that this simply
isn't good enough.

Here we go.

It should either be
one of the window dressers

or the salon girls on level one.

Oh, nice green.

Barbie had one just like it.

It's just a dress
I need altered.

Oh, gosh.
I really have to go,

or I'll miss my train.
Here.

Have a look yourself, but make
sure you put it back for me.

- Of course.
- Good night, Miss Foster.

Good night.

Thank you.

2389.

What?

Detective Steed.

It's Peregrine.
I'm still at Blair's.

Where is
Chief Superintendent Sparrow?

He promised me
none of these personal details

- would need to come out.
- I'm sure he won't be long.

Blair's admitted to the affair,

but he claims that he didn't
take the van that last night.

- What about the wig?
- It was a full-length piece.

A special order for Mrs. Blair.

But I've never seen her
wear a wig.

Well, who did
that purchase order?

Well,
that's the interesting part.

It's all starting to make sense.

Who's there?

Get here as quickly as you can.

Peregrine.

Peregrine!

Mr. Blair.

- Steed?
- Sir.

Don't you "sir" me.

What the hell are you doing
questioning Terence Blair again?

- I'm sorry. I've gotta run.
- You're on thin ice, Steed!

Sparrow!

Who were you talking to?

What are
you doing with that wig?

Wait!

Come back! Miss Foster!

Miss Foster!
Where are you going?!

I don't know
what you're playing at!

Look, I know you're in here, so
you might as well show yourself.

You spied on them,
didn't you, Colin?

You suspected that your father
was having an affair,

and so you started
following him.

How could he do that
to my mother?

When he knows
how fragile she is.

And the risk
of what she might do to herself.

What was the final straw, Colin?

Was it when Barbie told you
she was pregnant?

I'm carrying your father's baby.

He loves me.

He's going to divorce
your mother and marry me.

That slut.

I had to do something.

You ordered this wig, and
then you lured Barbie backstage

the night before the parade.

Well, I gave her a chance.

You can't bribe me, Colin.
I'm not going away.

You're gonna have to learn
to live with it.

What were you trying to do,

putting Barbie
on top of that cake?

Showing your father that Barbie
would never be his bride?

The whole idea of marrying her
was an obscenity.

He needed to see it
for what it was.

And you needed
to cover your tracks.

So you propped that mannequin
in Barbie's flat window

so that her landlady thought
she was still alive that night.

And then you created
your own alibi

by spending the morning
with the South Yarra police.

But why did you kill Florence?

Oh, Colin.
What are you doing here?

Barbie's dress?

She saw something.

Didn't she?

I'm sorry, Florence.

She shouldn't have been there.

And neither should you.

Aah!

Get off!

Get!

You won't get away!

Aah!

Peregrine!
Peregrine!

Peregrine!

- Christ.
- Well, you took your time.

You okay?

I have a, um, special delivery.

"Chief Inspector Sparrow

was congratulated by the mayor

after solving
what has become known

as the Blair Model Murders."

He took all the glory!

Yeah.
Get used to it.

What?!

But, um, this might help.

We found it left
in the storeroom at Blair's.

"Every woman needs
a little black dress.

Love, Florence."

This is what she was
finishing that night.

I figured that out.

Oh, that's right.
You're a detective, aren't you?

Three years' extra training.

Thank you.

Hey, babe!

Eric!

What are you doing here?

Look who I brought with me.

Oh, Mum. Oh!

Boy, have I missed you, baby.

Oh!

Mm. Okay.

Percy Sparrow is unbelievable!

Well, my life
just got complicated.

Is that a Florence creation?

Yes.

Her last.

I'm glad it was for you.

I'm sure that the goddess
would approve, too.

Just don't forget to take
her home, where she belongs.

Samuel,
did you just say "goddess"?

Isis, goddess
of the ancient Egyptians.

She resurrected her dead husband
from the underworld.

Wait one minute.

"Like the goddess, Madame Lyon

breathed life
back into her fallen lover,

and so the goddess now guards
the evidence of his secrets."

Huh.

Bingo.

Oh.

I can't quite make it out,

but there's a distinct lack
of clothing.

Oh.

Looking beyond
the naked gymnastics,

that's definitely Madame Lyon,
and that...

- Yes?
- That...

- Ooh.
- Oh!

That's Inspector Sparrow!

Well, no wonder
he wanted it back.

Oh, that's terribly bad luck
for Percy Sparrow

that Barbie Jones' murder
is solved

and he's lost
his bargaining power.

And we've found ours.

Oh.

Here is to Phryne

and to Florence.

Oh, exceptional women
ahead of their time.

And to Peregrine.

- Oh.
- A woman of the future.

To all exceptional women!

- And Samuel.
- And Samuel.

And Samuel.

Now I think it's fitting
that we commemorate Florence

in a way she would have liked.

Mm.

- ♪ Move, baby, move ♪
- Mm!

♪ Get in the groove now ♪

♪ Move, baby, move ♪

♪ Get in the groove, girl ♪

♪ Move, baby, move ♪

♪ Get in the groove now ♪

♪ Let me tell you, girl,
you're looking so fine now ♪