All language subtitles for Episode 5 - Murder A La Mode

You. We need to talk.

I know what you've been doing.
I know everything. The game is up.

Paper!

What do you think?

It's magnificent.

Miss Fisher?

Oh. Thank you.

I like this dress even better now.

Miss Williams?

Thank you.

Ah, Mademoiselle Fisher,
I do apologise.

We've been trying to finish
a ball gown for Lady Archdale.

Ah, magnifique!

Perhaps if the slip underneath
were a little more daring?

Not at all.

The slip is placed perfectly
beneath the fabric,

and the balance is superb.

Ah, very sensible choice, my dear.

You can be married or buried
in a quality suit.

Perfect.

Excuse me, Miss Williams?

Would you mind? I'm having trouble
with this last button.

Of course.

There you go.
Thank you.

Wow.

Fox.

Nothing like it.

In a very beautifully cut suit, Dot.

Very smart.

It's... it's Mrs Wilde!

Call the police.

Frances Wilde was a dear friend.

Not to mention one of our most loyal
clients and our main investor.

Genevieve, would you please fetch
some smelling salts for Madame?

Oh, of course.

Sir, are you alright?

I'm having trouble breathing.

Aubrey?

I should have checked
on her.

She was only gone for five minutes.

Mr Wilde's in shock.

Here, put your head forward.

I take it you're a regular patron
here.

If I went anywhere else,
Madame Fleuri would kill me,

figuratively speaking.

The fellow out there.

Is that the victim's son?

Husband, Jack.

Caused quite a stir.
Mm.

A hairpin.

Clearly not premeditated.

But convenient.

Not many victims come equipped
with their own murder weapon.

And a single pearl.

Only one side bloodstained.

Dropped after the murder.

Look at the colour.

Aubergine.

Probably highly valuable.

Treasure of an oyster.

'He kissed the last of many doubled
kisses, this Orient pearl'.

Not even Mark Antony
would want to kiss this one.

No.

Thank you.

No pearls on the victim.

Nor anywhere else that I can see.

Poor Frances.

Was there anyone else in the salon
when the body was found?

I checked the rear door. Locked.

And anyone leaving or entering
the salon would have been noticed.

So assuming the time of death was
after your arrival,

whoever killed Mrs Wilde
may still be here.

Thank you.

Did you see anyone suspicious
outside the salon?

The victim's bag was still
on the sofa, sir.

Thank you.

Madame Fleuri,
do you remember if Mrs Wilde

was wearing any jewellery
when she arrived?

She had on a salon gown
when I sat her down

to approve the forthcoming
catalogue.

Violet, lock that catalogue away
again for me, will you please?

I think Mrs Wilde
was wearing pearls.

What colour were they?

I'm not certain, but I know
they picked up on her frock.

I was pressing it for her while she
looked through the catalogue.

Yes, they were a shade of purple.

I'm afraid I'll have to ask everyone
to remain in the building

while we look over the premises
thoroughly.

We'll also have to search the salon
staff, Collins, including Mr Wilde.

Search?
Yes.

If you could please start
with Aubrey Wilde, Constable,

and if Miss Fisher and Miss Williams
could assist us with the ladies.

Gladly.

And you two can draw straws
to see who searches Dot and me.

Huh.

Some lovely lingerie,
but not a pearl in sight.

Excuse me, Constable.

Oh.

It's elegant with a twist,
wouldn't you say?

Hm? Sorry?

No, yeah, very... very nice.

You don't think it's too...

..too sensible?

Yes, no, I love the twisty parts.

That's a gorgeous shade of...
of brown.

Thank you, Constable.

Ohh!

You might need me, Collins.

Sorry, Sir.

Madame won't like being closed
during business hours.

But Miss, I thought the Inspector
and Hugh wanted us at the station.

They've got enough to keep them busy
for now, Dot.

You must keep your gloves on.

Clearly Mrs Wilde's glass.

Take a look around for Aubrey's.

Dot, come here for a moment.

Take a seat.

Hope you're not going to take
my photograph, Miss.

No!

Just testing.

Mrs Wilde and her husband were
on the sofa in the lounge.

I could tell you that, Inspector.

But I had sent Genevieve off
to change outfits

because my camera had jammed.

So I'm afraid I was preoccupied.

I'm the one who invited Frances
to the salon this morning

to approve the catalogue.

I do remember hearing Aubrey
query whether

some of the designs
were too conservative.

And what would Aubrey know
about designs?

Frances was delighted
with the entire catalogue.

Madame.

Though very surprised
that your gloomy photographs

replaced some of our glorious
colour illustrations.

If you'd just like to
wait outside, Madame.

If Frances was so delighted,
what were you two arguing about?

That had nothing to do
with the collection.

Then perhaps it was about
our dwindling clientele.

It's highly inappropriate
for you to be discussing

the state of our business,
in the midst of this tragedy.

Wait, Madam. Ahem.

Did you have an argument
with Frances Wilde?

It was a business discussion,
that's all.

No lipstick.

Aubrey's champagne glass?

Wonderful.
Can we go now, please Miss?

Don't be a spoilsport, Dot.

We haven't done the sewing room yet,
and that's your forte.

We need to telephone Cec and Bert.

I served the champagne,
first to Mr and Mrs Wilde,

then to Miss Fisher
and Miss Williams.

Then what did you do?

I'd left the iron on to heat up,

so I headed back to the sewing room
to press Mrs Wilde's frock for her.

The pleating wasn't sitting right.

So to your knowledge, Mr Wilde
remained in the lounge

for the ten minutes
between serving him the champagne

and when Genevieve screamed?

Yes, that's right.

Well, he always accompanied
Mrs Wilde to the salon,

though I'm not sure how much notice
she took of his opinions.

This must be Lady Archdale's
ball gown.

No wonder it was holding
everything up.

Violet didn't get very far
pressing Mrs Wilde's frock.

Not that it matters now.

Looks like the pleats
were the problem.

It's stone cold.

So she never even heated it up.

What do you mean?

Well, it wouldn't cool down that
fast, a heavy iron like that.

So whatever Violet Hopkins was busy
with during the murder,

it wasn't Mrs Wilde's frock.

Perhaps we should leave this bit out
of our police statements, Dot.

Miss.

'To our prosperous future, GM.'

Interesting timing.

And who is GM?

Perhaps a satisfied customer?

It's an odd thing
to write to a couturier.

Oi.

You need us for a job, Miss?

Two jobs now.

Hold this.

But that's confidential.

I'd like you to find out from the
florist who ordered these flowers.

If anyone queries you, just say

Madame Fleuri wants
to thank the sender.

And I need these plates developed.

No worries.

That one's not bad.

Oh, it's underwear.

The term is lingerie,

and it's the way to a woman's heart,

once you've found your way
to the rest of her, that is.

Don't you two have work to do?

Miss Fisher's right, you know.

Even a single one of these
is worth a thousand pounds.

Mrs Wilde was a wealthy lady.

Whoever stole them is likely
to know their worth.

It's probably the motive
for murder.

Surely if someone wanted
to steal a string of pearls,

they wouldn't need to murder someone
with a hairclip to do it.

And this wasn't premeditated murder.

This was spur of the moment.

Aren't you becoming the detective?

Did I say I wanted
to be a detective?

No.

Is something the matter, Dottie?

Is it the tea?

No.

Well, yes, actually.

You didn't like my suit.

Or you were just too busy
looking at Genevieve

to pay me any attention.

Oh, no, Dottie, I...

I wasn't looking at her as much
as I was looking at her suit.

Not her suit, her dress.

It had these little bits that...

..that sparkled on it when it...
when it hit the light.

Really?
Yes.

And these other bits that
wafted when she moved...

..when it moved,
when the dress moved.

That doesn't mean
I didn't like your suit.

What colour was my blouse?

Your blouse that...

I wore underneath my suit.
What colour was it?

Mm. It was...

..like a...

I think I'll wait for Miss Fisher
in the car.

Dottie, I...

Frances was demanding
I dismiss Genevieve.

Your house model?

Genevieve Lemaire
has French heritage

and has modelled for the best
fashion houses in Paris.

She was head model for La Lune
boutique before she agreed

to join us, and we are very
fortunate to have her.

Did Mrs Wilde say
why she wanted her dismissed?

She claimed Genevieve had designs
on her philandering husband,

which is absolute nonsense.

The Inspector informs me

that your argument became quite...
passionate.

When I refused to dismiss Genevieve,

Frances started on
about other concerns.

It was insulting.

I became angry.

And, yes, I slapped her.

What kind of concerns?

After pointing out
her financial stake in the salon,

she questioned the time and trouble
we devote to our clients.

And then she threatened
to sack me...

..from my own salon.

Mr Wilde?

She suspected he and
I of having an affair?

Have you any idea why, Miss Lemaire?

Probably because
he was a blatant gold digger

and completely untrustworthy, but...

..Mr Wilde, he barely spoke to me.

And everybody knows I have
a boyfriend in Paris.

Oh.

Did you have much to do
with Mrs Wilde?

She was very generous
when I first arrived in Melbourne,

and I'm sure mostly because
of my French connections.

And more recently?

She seemed more aloof.

Changed her mind about using me
for a gala parade on Oaks Day,

last race season.

I can see why now.

Did it upset you?

Of course.

But I blamed her husband.

Why do you say that?

When I began at the salon,
Mr Wilde told Violet

that he thought I was too old
for modelling,

which surprised me considering
he had no reservations

about the age of his wife.

Lady Archdale's ball gown.

If you don't allow Madame Fleuri to
reopen, it may never be realised.

Now, that would be a crime,
wouldn't it?

Aubrey Wilde's doctor

seems to think his turn was only
heart palpitations due to shock.

Perhaps someone else at the salon

was making his heart beat
a little faster.

It's unlikely Frances
imagined the whole thing.

What, and this affair is motive
enough to do his wife in?

If she found out and planned to
divorce him from her fortune.

What about Madame Fleuri's
inclination towards violence?

She's not violent, she's French.

Half-French.

Genevieve had reason to resent
both the Wildes

and Violet lied about whatever
she was up to in the sewing room.

What about the sister?

Renee is definitely hiding something.

The camera wasn't jammed at all,
as far as I could see.

The cracked plate that she told you
she removed was perfectly fine,

apart from my own portrait of Dot.

Oh, yeah.

This tension between
the Fleuri sisters?

They have spats all the time.

Simone believes in classical fashion,
custom design.

Renee is on the side of progress.

Modern reproductions, pret-a-porter.

Ready to...

..to carry?

Close. Ready to wear.

Ah, my wartime French
never made the distinction.

Well, in the world of haute couture,
it translates as 'certain death'.

But murdering Frances Wilde
wouldn't make financial sense

for either of the Fleuri sisters,
would it?

No.

But stealing her priceless
pearl necklace would.

Stunning, isn't it?

They'll see you coming.

That's what my mother always said

when my sister wore anything
too showy.

Surely that's a good thing.

If nothing else,
to avoid a collision.

Well, I wouldn't want to go
completely unnoticed,

but I wouldn't want to attract
too much attention, either.

Doesn't that depend on whose
attention you're attracting?

I suppose so.

Dot...

..a woman should dress first
and foremost for her own pleasure.

Having grown up
in second-hand flannels,

there is nothing quite so divine
as the feel of silk underwear.

The touch of soft fox,

the slither of a satin skirt.

If these things happen
to appeal to men,

well, that really is a side issue.

So, tomorrow we're going
to the House of Fleuri

to order you a ravishing
and utterly frivolous evening gown.

Oh no, Miss, I couldn't possibly...

It's not a gift, Dot. It's an order.

We need a pretext to return
that catalogue

and do some further investigating.

And I've decided you're it.

So you remained in the salon lounge
the whole time your wife was absent?

Yes. Where else would I go?

Oh, your champagne glass ended up
in the corridor, Mr Wilde.

Why don't you just tell me
what you're angling at, Inspector?

Madame Fleuri said your wife
suspected you

of having an affair
with one of the staff.

Well, that's not only insulting,
that's preposterous.

You think I killed my wife
because of that?

If I wanted to do that, Inspector,

surely I could push her
down some stairs or poison her.

Why would I risk murdering her
in a salon powder room?

Can you think of a reason
why anyone else from the salon

would want to harm Mrs Wilde?

Had she fallen out with anyone?

No more than usual.

She was a strong-minded woman.

She had her opinions.

Ah, sir. The cancelled cheque
in Mrs Wilde's handbag.

Was the bank any help?

Yes, they told me it was issued
to a real estate agent in Fitzroy

who wasn't very happy when
the bank refused to honour it.

What was it for?

A deposit on an apartment.

Royal Astor Court.
Sold to the Wildes one week ago.

Well, I must say I was surprised
when the bank called

and said they'd cancelled
the cheque.

His wife, apparently.

She seemed quite taken
with the place until then.

Did you hear anything from Mr Wilde
about it?

Not a peep.

Did he say what the apartment
was for?

I assumed it was a first home
for him and his wife.

They did insist on one
on street level, though.

Lovely building.

Bay windows, tall ceilings.

Mrs Wilde.

Can you describe her for me?

Very... very easy on the eye.

Thank you, Mr Hargreaves,

but it would help if you were
a little more specific.

Good morning, Miss Lemaire.

Miss Williams would like
another appointment.

Of course.

I'm sure we can find somewhere.

That is a lovely frock,
Miss Lemaire.

You're so lucky to wear
such beautiful clothes,

even if they're not yours.

Yes. Like being a walking
dressmaker's dummy.

No!

No, all I meant was everything
looks lovely on you.

Everything looks... perfect.

That's my job. It's all show.

Now if you'd like to come through,

I'll check if Madame Fleuri
can see you now.

You're not happy with the suit?

Oh, no, the suit
is perfectly lovely.

So, what, you need evening wear?

Perhaps something full-length?

More glamorous,
in a satin or a silk?

Oh, no, I don't go to...

..things like that, and I wouldn't
want anything extravagant.

The fabric doesn't need
to be expensive.

We could use art silk instead.

Perhaps something for day wear,
not too showy, just...

More a la mode, perhaps.

Modern?

You mean a dress with gimmicks
that wax and wane?

A woman must know her style.

Style is what endures,
and your style, Miss Williams...

..is a suit.

Only me.

Miss Fisher, sorry.

I... I must have fallen asleep.

Is that why you hadn't ironed
Frances Wilde's frock yesterday?

You told Inspector Robinson
you'd heated the iron,

but I don't think that was true.

I don't want Madame Fleuri
to worry that I'm falling behind,

but I've been working long hours.

It's been very busy lately.

And yet Renee Fleuri said
that business was dwindling.

But just one frock can be
so time-consuming.

I've been trying to finish
the beading on this ball gown.

Yes, lovely work, very intricate.

And I suppose you have postal orders
to fill.

Oh, yes, I still have
to make this afternoon's mail

for Mrs Norton's day dress. Ahem.

Is there something I can do for you,
Madame?

No, no.

Just clearing up my confusion.

Don't take it personally, Dot.

You know what sisters can be like.

Add fashion to the mix,
and it's diabolical.

Now, I need Cec and Bert
to follow Violet

to the post office this afternoon.

She was behaving very suspiciously
about a large parcel.

There was no-one with
the initials GM in the book,

but I did find a pile of unpaid bills

and a number of very lucrative
clients with their names struck out.

So the salon
is definitely losing business.

Maybe those clients
had their reasons.

And I'm about to find out
what they are.

Looking over this list, I'm afraid
our best chance of finding out

will involve a long afternoon
at the Melba Cruise Salon of Beauty.

It's an awful business.

Well, at least Frances won't have
to worry about keeping up

with that dashing young husband
of hers.

That is some consolation.

Did you see a lot of the Wildes,
Mrs Carlyon?

Oh, not in the last six months.

I was denied an appointment
one too many times.

I suspect it was my attitude
to the younger Fleuri.

All her new ideas just seemed
like excuses for skimping to me,

so I took my business elsewhere.

If you ask me, I'd say Renee was
touting for financial support.

I'm not sure what she had in mind,

but it made my daughter
and I very uneasy.

When was the last time you visited
Madame Fleuri's salon, Mrs Tippet?

Well, not since my lemon silk
charmeuse dress.

In September, Madame Fleuri was
abroad so we couldn't get in.

Oh, it was a terrible month for us.

A robbery,
crack in the swimming pool.

Then Deirdre and I both were left
with nothing decent

to wear to Ladies' Day.

I was having Madame make me a gown
to go with some jewellery

my husband had given me
for our silver anniversary,

then I lost the necklace.

I couldn't bring myself
to tell Rupert.

Such beautiful sapphires.

So you cancelled the gown?
Of course.

But when I tried to make
an appointment

for an alternative outfit,
they couldn't fit me in,

me, Melba Cruise.

I'm one of their oldest customers.

So I haven't telephoned to them
since.

I was under the impression you
called me here for a dress fitting

for Miss Williams.

We thought it would be more discreet
to have this discussion here.

Just answer the question,
Miss Fleuri.

Inspector, I am passionate
about my designs.

But I would not play mistress
to a man like Aubrey

in order to realise them.

The Inspector has evidence that
Aubrey tried to buy an apartment

with a woman of your
exact description.

House of Fleuri is meant to be
a partnership.

But Frances was loyal to my sister.
They were old friends.

Aubrey understood my ideas.

Go on.

He was buying the apartment

so I could set up my own
pret-a-porter salon.

Aubrey and I planned
to become business partners.

Did you know Mrs Wilde
had cancelled Aubrey's cheque?

Did either of you confront her?

No.

In the ten minutes leading up
to Mrs Wilde's death,

are you certain you both remained
in the lounge area?

I told you, I was preoccupied
with my camera.

There was nothing wrong
with that camera, Renee.

After Aubrey told me the apartment
had fallen through, I...

I became too upset
to do anything much.

And Mr Wilde?

I don't believe he killed his wife.

But, yes, he... he left the lounge.

I don't know where he went.

I don't have time for this.

I have funeral arrangements
to attend to.

Right now, Mr Wilde, you have some
very serious questions to answer.

The fact that you deceived your wife
about your business arrangements,

the fact that
you were going to spend

significant amounts of her money...

That was a joint cheque account.
I did nothing illegal.

But your wife
had just thwarted your plans.

I tried to reason with her.
I was doing it for both of us.

And then you have no witness

as to where you were
at the time of her death.

Alright!

Alright.

Yes, alright.

I was in the sewing room
when my wife was murdered.

And I have a witness.

Who?

Fleuri's head seamstress,
Violet Hopkins.

It was a mere dalliance,
nothing more.

Which means I have an alibi.

It also means you both
have a motive for murder.

Do you really think that I would
kill my wife for a girl like Violet?

What's wrong with you, mate!

Here, let me give you a hand.
I didn't see you!

Thank you.

You OK?
I... I think so.

Your packages.

Oh, I didn't... I didn't see you.

I'm sorry.

That's alright.

You were meant to follow Violet
to the post office

to see where she was sending it.

You weren't meant
to steal the package.

It fell into our laps.

Well, it evidently fell somewhere.

It's completely smudged.
I can't make out a thing.

Well, that wasn't our fault.

Yeah, not completely.

Hello!
G'day, Miss.

Found out about
those flowers for you.

Ordered by telegram.
Well done.

Yeah, the girl in the florist
told us who it was.

Here, I, ah,
I wrote it down for you.

Gary and Molly Nex.

Maybe regulars at that saloon place.

Salon, Bert.

I've met most of them
and Nex doesn't seem to ring a bell.

And that parcel
you wanted us to track...

Oh.

You... intercepted the mail.

Even better.

Well, this doesn't look like
Mrs Norton's day dress to me.

But it does look almost exactly
like one of those evening dresses

in that confidential catalogue.

If this is a G at the beginning,
and that's an M,

perhaps it's our mystery
flower senders.

I'll dry it out and see if I can
brush off some of that dirt.

Meanwhile, I think we need
a private word with Madame Fleuri.

Yes.

There are three of them,
all the same.

These are exact copies
of our design,

with modernisations
in very poor taste.

But these dresses
have not even been made yet.

How could this happen?

Perhaps one of your staff?

Never.

You trust them all?

Of course.

The designs
are all under lock and key

and I keep the patterns at my
home... Oh, this is all a disaster.

And word is out.

Lady Archdale has just cancelled
the order for her ball gown

and others have already fallen away.

And now this sabotage.

And none of this explains
what happened to poor Frances.

I am sure that we'll get
to the bottom of it.

I'll inform the police
first thing in the morning.

Your car is waiting, Madame.

Madame Fleuri,
do you know a Mr and Mrs Nex?

They sent some flowers to your salon.

Oh, I've never heard of them, but
at least somebody's happy with us.

There's no point upsetting Madame
Fleuri before we know the full story.

But how do the copied dresses
tie in with Mrs Wilde's murder?

I'm not sure, Dot.

But Violet has obviously been
moonlighting,

so I think this calls for
some nocturnal investigation.

Your blouse was pink, Dottie,

and I do pay attention to you.

Sit down
and I'll pour you some cocoa.

Miss Fisher having an early night?

Must be.

Thank you.

So...

What's your favourite outfit, then,
of mine?

The one you like the most?

I like everything you wear, Dottie,

because you wear it.

Just pick one.

If I had to pick, the day we met.

What you wore then.

The day we met?

That's my favourite.

So I go to all that trouble,

and you like me best
in a maid's uniform?

Yes.

No. No.

You're confusing me.

Miss Fisher's right about one thing.

Dressing to please a man
is definitely beside the point.

Is that who I think it is?

Afraid so, sir.

Oh. Evening!

Whoever it was was extremely agile,
remarkably efficient, lethal.

And almost a match for me.

Almost?

They didn't stop me.

Well, you're still guilty of
breaking into the salon,

and the theft of one bolt of peacock
and floral print cotton

worth one hundred pounds.

I'm happy to pay for the fabric.
Luckily, it's my style.

Poor Violet.

She obviously knew whoever was with
her, but she didn't see it coming.

Neither did Frances Wilde.

Our killer is no amateur.

How do you know
it's the same killer?

Because they knew exactly
where to come back to

to retrieve Frances Wilde's
missing pearls,

buried in a bowl of
pot pourri in the sewing room.

Except...

..they missed one.

The head wound from the iron
wasn't lethal.

The Coroner's report sways
the victim was smothered to death.

In a bowl of beads.

So these dresses that mysteriously
turned up at your back door.

Do you think Violet
was manufacturing them?

It's not called manufacturing, Jack.

Violet was a dressmaker, but, yes.

And it looks as if she was getting
paid generously for her work,

judging by these additional amounts
on top of her wages.

Madame Fleuri would be devastated.

Unless Madame Fleuri caught her
in the act.

From what I heard last night,
Violet had a partner in crime.

Who?

The dresses weren't exact copies.

They had certain refinements
of style,

which suggest a more modern approach.

What's going on? Why do you need
to question Renee again?

It's alright, Madame.

The police just need
to go over some details.

Simone will find out,
so she may as well know.

Know what?

I was seeking Aubrey's help
to establish my own salon.

You would set up in competition
with the House of Fleuri?

With your own sister?

What choice did I have?

You never let me have my way
with my designs.

There is one of my designs
in our entire new catalogue.

Well, there is reason for that.

Yes, and it's you.

I want to make beautiful garments
for women who can't afford couture.

Aubrey understood.

But Frances was always going
to favour you.

Mesdames, please.

Violet is gone.
How could you argue like this?

I'll do whatever I can to help
find out what happened to Violet.

I'll get my things.

If you could find my hat please,
Genevieve.

Jack, look at the floor,
under the camera.

Rosebuds.

Don't touch that, Miss Fisher.

You'll expose the plate.

Frances's pearls!

Is my business the only thing
I should be worried about,

or do you have blood on your hands?

If you need to ask,
then you are clearly not my sister.

Where did you get those?

The parcel was waylaid and ended up
being delivered to the police.

It had the initials GM written on it,

like the mysterious
congratulatory flowers

that were delivered to your salon.

Initials that the florist told us
indicated Garry and Molly Nex.

Until you put that together
with Rue de la Paix.

Here, you can just make it out
if you brush off some of the grime.

I'm sure you know the street.

One of the most fashionable streets
in Paris.

And home to the new grand department
stores,

including Galeries Molyneux.

Those dresses are
our second sample range.

Seems Galeries Molyneux
were very happy with the first

and were about to place
a full order.

Simone has no interest
in pret-a-porter,

so it was the only way
to finance a new salon.

So did Violet Hopkins threaten
to tell your sister?

No.

No, you can't think
that I'd hurt Violet.

I've laundered and dried these
as much as I can, Miss.

Well, at least enough to go back
into police custody.

Thank you, Dot.

If Frances Wilde knew nothing
about the dresses Violet was making,

how was she found out?

Was that really worth
killing someone for?

That depends, Dot,
on how valuable the dresses are.

They're so sparkly.

They certainly are, Dot.

You'd almost think
they were real sapphires.

Melba Cruise said she lost
a sapphire necklace, didn't she?

And Mrs Tippet had a terrible month
because of a robbery.

I wonder what was stolen.

People usually steal jewellery.

I think we might have a closer look

at Salon Fleuri's
disgruntled clients.

Miss Fisher was right.

Mrs Carlyon was robbed as well.

All six clients from the salon were
robbed over the last six months.

Whoever our jewel thief is,

looks like they have
a professional pedigree.

Yes, sir.

And in the six months previous
to the Melbourne robberies,

there was a string of similar crimes
on the North Shore in Sydney.

None of them with
obvious sign of break-in,

all highly valuable
and distinctive pieces,

none of them have turned up in
pawnbrokers or on the black market.

Interesting victims.

Gordon Walsh.

The Standishes.

Someone called Lady Grainger.

Annabelle Grainger is one of THE most
elegantly dressed women in Sydney.

Whoever we're looking for
targets the fashionable end of town.

And has outsmarted at least
half a dozen police investigations.

Ah, it's time they met their match.

Is that you or me?

I know nothing gets past you, Jack.

But I'm the one who holds the bait.

Have I ever shown you
my Columbian emeralds?

The new lining is just enough

to pick up on the green
of the necklace.

What do you think, Aubrey?

I know Frances
always trusted your taste.

Yes, it's fine.

I'm sorry,
I'm still not quite myself.

There's a lot to sort out
with Frances's affairs.

I'm sure, but I do hope
you'll stay on as investor.

I know both the Fleuri sisters
would be most grateful.

And I'm sure it's what
Frances would have wanted.

Yes, you're right.

And your necklace looks divine.

Thank you.

We're all off to Daylesford for
the weekend to take the waters.

A special treat
for Dot and Mr Butler.

But I won't be needing emeralds,
so the coat can wait until my return.

So where did you send Dot
and Mr Butler?

Daylesford, of course.

I always lie as little as possible.

It's after midnight.

How much longer
did you want to stay here?

Why? Aren't you enjoying yourself?

Try some of Dot's cottage pie.

Er... Do you have a fork?

You'll have to use your fingers.

What if it's Collins?

It won't be.

It's them,
checking to see no-one's home.

So, what else do you have in there?

I should put you on rations.

Visitors.

I'm going after them.

I'll take the back stairs.

Police!

Your robberies
were so coolly planned.

Finding jobs in all the best salons,

so you could lay your eyes
on the clients' jewels

without anyone suspecting.

All you needed was a way to smuggle
such distinctive jewellery

out of the country.

How did you persuade Violet
to help you?

Did you threaten to tell Madame that
she was moonlighting for Renee?

But in the end, you couldn't trust
her to keep quiet

about what had happened to Frances.

What kind of greed leads
to the killing of two innocent women?

What about Frances Wilde?
Why did you kill her?

You think I'd kill someone
over a strand of pearls?

She said she knew everything.

You.

The game is up.

But she wasn't accusing you of theft,
was she?

She thought you were having an affair
with her husband.

As if I'd throw myself at that fool.

Miss Lemaire, you're under arrest.

Genevieve, real name Smith,
was an expert burglar.

She cased La Lune boutique in Sydney
just like she cased Salon Fleuri.

She had all the jewels
intercepted at a port in Paris

by another paid lackey,
the so-called boyfriend.

Not even French ancestry?

So, this is the end.

We will close down the salon.

You can't do that, Madame Fleuri.

You have clients who rely on you.

You have your sister.

Who was sneaking
and scheming behind my back.

Because you won't budge.

Not even an inch.

Most of our clients would no more
buy a garment off a rack

than jump off a cliff.

It would spell the end of
haute couture and good taste.

Madame Fleuri, I hope you consider me
a woman of taste.

Of course, Miss Fisher.

Then I have a confession to make.

I like to wear well-cut trousers.

What's more, I have been known to buy
clothing in department stores.

But...

But I will always love the glamour
and attention of Salon Fleuri.

If you give your sister her head,

she'll have no reason
to set up another salon.

How could we possibly continue?

Even if Aubrey deigns to help us,
my... my head seamstress is gone.

I have dozens of unfinished
garments.

I have lost my
most distinguished clients

and my house model is headed
for the noose.

Well...

..I'm sure we can solve
all those problems.

Thank you so much
for coming.

Wearing the first piece in our
forthcoming pret-a-porter range,

an affordable evening gown
for the modern young woman,

Miss Dorothy Williams.

What do you think, Collins?

Pretty as a picture, sir.

Just between you and me though,
please sir.

Decided it's safer to keep
my opinion to myself this time.

How gloriously modern.

Oh, yes, at House de Fleuri,
we aim to be 'tres moderne'.

And next, in a classically elegant
couture designed gown,

Miss Phryne Fisher.

The police photographer's finished
with your necklace.

Didn't suit his outfit?

I'll never again dismiss
the fashion world as frivolous.

It all looks harmless enough, but
you never know what lurks beneath.

Usually lingerie.

Equally dangerous.

And just one dress can be lethal.

Nightcap?

Perhaps another time.

At a less dangerous hour,

in a less lethal dress.