Original subtitles

- ♪ 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 ♪

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 ♪

- ♪ 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 massage 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 ♪