All language subtitles for The.Brokenwood.Mysteries.S07e04.1080P.Webrip.X265-Kontrast.en

Why'd I let you talk me
into this?

Because you're curious.

Why would I be?

Two words, Mike.

Artisan cheese maker.

That's three words.

You need a coffee.

Mm.

I don't get markets.

Why drag yourself up
at the crack of dawn

for spotty organic fruit

and patchwork
toilet roll holders?

Ah, before 9:00 is hardly
the crack of dawn.

And you have to get here early
or all the good stuff goes.

Define "good stuff."

I'm here for the chutney.

- You said cheese.
- Yeah, to go with the chutney.

- Yo.
- Thank you.

Thanks, Frodo.

Hey, I like the new look.
It's very upmarket.

Yeah, that's the new boss.

Sophie's all over that stuff.

- What, theSophie?
- Yeah.

She's all about the look.

The look?
The look my ass.

The woman's so far up herself
she can't see daylight.

Numbers are up.
You've got to give her that.

I wouldn't give her squat.

This place was a lot better
without her.

Pete's just old-school.

He doesn't like a lady
being in charge.

Right.

Let's check out the cheese.

Apparently his brie, next level.

Sophie, are we doing this?

The light's perfect now.
Let me in.

Who is this Sophie?

Celebrity chef.
Sold a bunch of cookbooks.

Fresh. Fabulous.
Authentic.

How do you know this?
You don't cook.

You don't have to be a cook
to know who Sophie Grainger is.

She's a lifestyle brand.

Ah, here we are.
Dylan McCracken, Artisan Cheese.

Hm.

Did Petra take his last name
or did she hyphenate?

Petra Conway-McCracken.

No, you wouldn't.

Mike! Kristin!

- Petra.
- Hi.

We were just wondering
what name you go by now.

Since you married
the cheese maker.

Same name I went by
when I was married to you.

Petra Conway.
McCracken's a bit of a mouthful.

Indeed.

Speaking of mouthfuls, can I
tempt you to try the wares?

Ah, yes, please. I've heard
the brie is very good.

- Mm-hmm.
- Where's Dylan?

He's just nipped into the barn

with his cheese for the shoot.

The cover of Sophie's new book.

She's featuring all
the market produce.

It'll do big things
for this place.

Mm, yup.
I'll have a bit of that, please.

Okay, $10. Thank you.

Oh, there's my darling.

He's lost the Gandalf look,
I see.

Sorry, babe. There was a queue.

- There you go.
- That's okay!

I might slip off
and check on Willy.

- Yeah.
- How is Willy?

Mm, he's cooped up in the car.

He won't be happy,
but Sophie's word is law...

no dogs at the market.

I'll see you later.

- Gina!
- Mike!

I need a strong cheddar.

That will also crumble.

We'll leave you to it.

Why won't she open up?

You know what she's like.

You missed the "deadline."

You can't hurry piping!

They are gorgeous, Rosie.

But they're not going to be
in the photo.

Come on, Sophie!

She is deliberately
shutting me out.

Why did you let her take over?

You just handed it to her
on a plate!

Let's not go over that again.

You've got your cheese.
Let's go.

I want the chutney.
Her chutney... Cressida Cooper.

You can't get it anywhere else.

Tamarillo and lime.

Those doughnuts look good.

Oh, there you go!

Now you're getting
the market vibe.

You kick back, you graze.

Short black, make it quick.

Still driving that pile
of junk, cuz?

Lawn-mowing business
going downhill, is it?

Nah, not at all.

I'm doin' heaps better than you
ever did with it.

- Hey, I did fine with it.
- Well, I'm doing better.

Get a better car then.

Here we go.

We need statements from everyone
who went into the barn

before it opened,
all the stall holders.

Excuse me, Detective Shepherd.

Mrs. Marlowe, always a pleasure.

There's something I feel
I should tell you.

I was privy to a moment earlier

that I think might
be significant.

I just moved away from
my stall...

I do quilting, you know

DC Chalmers,
perhaps you could...

Ka pai, Senior.

Mrs. Marlowe.
DC Daniel Chalmers.

Look at you.

You used to steal my mandarins
as a young scallywag.

They were very good mandarins.

Still are.
A wonderful crop this year.

You should pop over.

So what was it that you saw?

Well, it may be nothing, but...

The dog unit's on its way
and the barn's secure.

Good.

Give Chalmers a hand
with the stall holders.

I'll have a chat with Sophie.

That was quick.

I keep a suit in the trunk
of my car.

Death... it's always
in our midst.

- After you.
- Thanks.

She has not been moved?

That's where she fell.

Remarkable

that she was able to leave
the building

with this implement
in her torso.

The spinal cord
has not been severed.

- She is lucky.
- That's debatable.

Oh, I have a lot of work to do.

- And I need to saw that off.
- I understand.

Because she will not go
in the bag unless...

Gina, I need a moment please.

Of course.

Hello, Sophie.

What happened here?

How did you end up impaled?

And I would have thought
that was more for vampires,

not celebrity chefs.

Mike.

Fluids are pooling as we speak.

She's from Vladivostok.

Are we done here?

My small-goods are defrosting.

Thanks, Pete,
you are free to leave.

What a wash-out.
I've been up since sparrow fart,

and I haven't sold a sausage.

- Dylan.
- Yes?

Can I ask you a few questions?

So, who owns the barn?

Sophie.
She owns all this land.

Yeah, but it used to be
Cressida's.

Not anymore.

We started this market...
a group of locals.

And Cressida, she never
charged anyone to be here.

She never pulled rank. Sh...

Rosie,
he doesn't need the history.

Yeah, well, all I'm saying is

it was different
when it was yours.

Things change.

Sophie made me an offer...
several offers.

I turned her down,
but she kept going up.

I let her have it.

Oh! When can we get back
in the barn?

I've got chutney I need to move.

- No one moves anything.
- So it's a crime scene?

Let's just say
as long as the tape's up,

it's off-limits.

- You ready to take a look?
- Sure.

Thanks for your help.

The pitchfork is now
a sawn-off pitchfork,

but every care was taken
to preserve forensic evidence.

I don't doubt that for a moment.

Nasty way to go.

She must've lifted this
to get out.

The power of adrenaline.

She came from all the way
over there.

There's not a lot of blood.

What's happened here?

The result of a struggle,
perhaps.

But... there's no blood
near the table.

It's a straight path
starting here.

This must have clocked her.

Wow.

It's quite a setup, isn't it?

Yeah, they would've been
lovely photos.

All her books are gorgeous.

Lovely food,
lovely husband, lovely kids.

I'm going to go notify
the family.

They live up the road.

- Do you want a hand?
- Nope.

I've got a fresh box of tissues.

What do you reckon?

I reckon Sophie went to
a lot of trouble.

And someone else did too.

Hi.

Hi!

- I did knock, sorry.
- Oh, no. I know.

Detective Sims... Kristin.

Is your dad at home?

Um, no, he's out
on his Sunday ride.

Okay, can I call him?

Arlo! Can it!

Is he in trouble?

No, but I do need
to speak to him.

Um, yeah.

I'll just step outside.

Macchiato, please.

Sorry, a what?

Macchiato... it's an espresso
with a whisper of hot milk.

Hello?

Rory Grainger?

Speaking.

Detective Kristin Sims,
Brokenwood C.I.B.

What's this about?

There's been an accident
involving your wife.

What sort of accident?

A serious accident.

Could you meet me at your home?

I'm on my way.

This might sound far-fetched,

but could this have been
an accident?

Are you playing
devil's advocate?

Well, old building, fallen beam.

Convince me.

Alright.
Well, let's walk through it.

I'm Sophie.

I'm finishing off
my arrangements,

when suddenly, out of nowhere...

Or, more accurately, out of
the roof a giant beam falls.

I get hit. I go down.

You're stunned,
but you're not dead.

So I get up
and I make for the door.

Uh-huh,
and where's the pitchfork?

I mean, they're not
lying around.

All the pointy stuff
is out of harm's way.

- But if I'm meandering...
- But you're not.

Look at the blood.
It's a straight line.

And even if there was
a stray pitchfork

lying in the middle
of the floor,

how do you fall on it,
backwards,

hard enough
that it goes right through you?

What if I fell out of
the hay loft and landed on it?

So the beam hits you
after you land on the pitchfork?

Put the "super freak"
in freak accident.

Yeah, okay.
Not feeling it.

This was an orchestrated event.

The beam's probably
sabotaged too.

One way to find out.

After you.

Oh, no.

After you.

She's a cop.

Did Dad fall off his bike?

No. He's on his way.

Then it must be Mum.

Detective Kristin Sims.

Rory Grainger.

Where are the kids?

In the kitchen.

Is there somewhere private
we can speak?

Yeah.

Whatever it is, just say it.

- Would you like to sit?
- You said it's about Sophie?

Uh...

there was a serious incident
at the market this morning.

And...

she didn't survive it.

She's dead?

I'm so sorry.

Oh, God...

You alright there?
You look a little shaky.

- Yeah.
- You gonna throw up?

No. I'm not going to throw up.

It's a beautiful piece
of carpentry.

One hell of a weight.

Yeah, and one hell
of a coincidence...

a beam that's stood firm
for maybe a hundred years

just happens to come loose...

When the new owner of the barn
is standing right underneath it.

So possibly, somebody detached
the beam earlier

and tied it up with this rope,

and maybe they came up here
and waited this morning.

It's a perfect view...
concealed.

Yeah, but risky.

Or perfect.

I mean, there's plenty of people
milling around.

You could just escape
into the crowd.

You could jump down here...

Easy.

Stick her with a pitchfork.

Out the back door.

What's that smell?

Prime spot, eh?

'Round the back
and down-wind of the shitters.

How'd you end up here?

Madam's decision... her market,
her rules.

There'd be a bit of foot traffic
with the, uh...

Yeah, but it's not what you want

when you're
selling meat products.

I complained, got nowhere.

She handed out this little map
of who went where,

and that was that.

Have you got a copy of this map?

Not on me, no.

Could you hunt it down?

I've gotta get this lot
back into the chiller

before it all goes off.

When you can.

Kaiand tiko...
so much wrong here

I don't know where to start.

Talk to me, Gina.

Mike, please, I need your help.

I am dancing on one foot.

You are dancing on one foot?

It's a saying, Mike.

In Russia, when a woman dances
on one foot,

it's a sign of excitement
and incredulity.

And even perhaps
discombobulation.

I must have you, Mike.

I must have you here, now.

She sounded a bit rattled.

Gina doesn't do rattled.

But she does do
one-legged dancing.

How is that different
from hopping?

She sounded rattled to me.

Hold the fort.
I'll keep you updated.

Thanks.

In all my years,
I have not seen this.

This is all over her body?

The legs, torso...
everywhere.

Chuck, rib, loin, and rump.

Someone meant to butcher
this woman.

Shank, flank,
short loin, brisket.

It's front and back.
Full body.

There is a very sick person
out there.

Someone with a serious grudge.

And a detailed knowledge
of meat.

These markings weren't done
in the barn.

There wasn't time.

Which means
Sophie must've known.

Can you tell when they were made
in relation to time of death?

Not now.

With testing, possibly.

This was not a random stranger
or a loss of control.

Someone wanted
Sophie Grainger dead

and took elaborate steps
to achieve it.

Why?

Best-selling author,
lifestyle queen...

successful, wealthy.

Could money be a motive?

She had plenty of it.

She self-published
all her own books.

- Loaded.
- Let's start with her will.

Or professional jealousy
could be a factor.

She took over the market,
not everyone liked it.

Pete London certainly didn't.

And the doughnut lady didn't.

Whoever killed her chose
the time and place with care.

Who else went into the barn
that morning?

Pete London.

Dylan McCracken.

Cressida Cooper.

In that order?

No, there was a schedule.

Timed to the second.

Everyone was given
five-minute time slots

to present their wares
for the photos.

But not everyone did
what they were told.

What are you doing here?

Now is not your time!

I don't give a fat rat's ass.

Unh-unh-unh-unh, not over there!
Over here!

I'll put 'em anywhere
I damn well like.

Not until you've removed those
tacky little flags you're not.

Don't touch them.

This is my show.

You don't own this market.

Actually, I do.

I own the barn
and I own the land,

and you know that.

Well, you don't own me.

If you don't like it, tough.

You can always go.

Look, what I don't like is being
stuck 'round the side

where I can't even
plug in my bloody fridge!

Yes, well, I decide
who goes where.

You're trying to kill my trade.

I don't have time for this.
Will you just go?

Gah!

Nobody likes you!

You're a blight!

I heard that.

I don't care.

I've had a guts
full of that cow!

Really?
Pete called her a cow?

According to Mrs. Marlowe.

I don't hold with women being
compared to barnyard animals.

I said to Pete,
"I don't like your tone.

You may not like the woman,

but that's no call
for verbal abuse."

And he said there was
every call,

she was out to get him, and he
wasn't going to leave it there.

Quite honestly,
it sounded like a...

Like?

A threat.

And according to Pete,
that was the last time

he saw Sophie, around 8:15.

Who was next?

The chutney lady...
Cressida Cooper.

Is it just me,
or is there a touch of

American Gothic to that woman?

You could see her
with a pitchfork, right?

Let's not get
ahead of ourselves.

What happened between them?

A business discussion.

Beautiful, Cressida.

Immaculate presentation,
as always.

It's not the presentation
that sells my chutney.

- It's the taste.
- Yes.

Yes, of course, I mean,
the taste is amazing,

but, well...

looks do count, I find.

Some people think so.

Not everyone.

So, have you considered
my proposition?

I've thought about it.

And?

And you'll have your answer
when I'm good and ready.

Not before.

What was that about?
What proposition?

Something about
licensing her chutney recipe.

Oh, well, you... you could make
millions from that chutney.

- You reckon?
- Yup, it's the flavor combo.

Yeah, but the texture...
like a car tire cut up small.

Yeah, okay, I think
we've established

it's not really your thing.

Okay, so there's an offer
on the table

from Sophie to Cressida.

Yeah. She already had
the land and the barn.

She was going for the trifecta.

Interesting... everything
that Cressida had,

Sophie wanted.

Chalk and cheese.
Who's next?

It was meant to be the doughnut
lady, but that didn't happen.

I'm not late, am I?

You know you are.

Hold this.

She won't answer you.

She promised my doughnuts
a good spot.

Millions of people
are going to see this photo!

It's my one chance
to get my name out there.

She only cares about one name,
and it's not yours.

I am hundred times
the baker she is!

It's a bold claim.

Yeah, but in my view, justified.

They are sensational doughnuts.

But Rosie didn't get in.

As per schedule,
Sophie barred the doors at 8:30

to do final tweaks before
the photographer came at 8:45.

Except the photographer
didn't get in either.

Yeah, so the chutney lady
was the last person

to see Sophie alive.

No, that was Dylan.

Who wasn't at the cheese stall
when we arrived.

He was in the barn.

But he got back just before 9:00
with coffee.

Which he claimed took him
a long time to get.

So unaccounted for
during the crucial window.

Which is?

8:30 to just after 9:00.

Therefore the cheese maker
is not off the hook.

Sophie's husband... Where was he
at the time of death?

Near Tahuna Point,
on a bike ride.

Ah, one of those Lycra guys.

Motorbike.

Oh! What sort?

A red one.

Ducati.

Classy.

So the husband
was half an hour away

at the time of death.

He's coming in tomorrow
for the I.D.

I'll have a chat.

Do we need to mention
the markings?

The human in me says yes,
the cop says no.

But while I'm talking to him,

I need you to prep the warrant
for the will in case we need it.

And I need you to visit
our local butcher.

Yes. That's... Soph.

Can I?

There's something else.

Can you shed any light on this?

Wh...

What the hell?

You've never seen this before?

No.

I thought it was an accident?

That's what your colleague said.

It quickly became apparent
that wasn't the case.

Even before we knew
about the markings,

it was clear from
the manner of death

that the offender
planned their actions.

It's sick.

However, if this suggests
anything to you...

if there's anyone you think
we should question...

just call us any time.

I didn't even
get to say goodbye.

You've got to get the psycho
who did this.

Here's the map
that madam handed out.

Where we were told to go.

I filed it in the garbage
where it belongs.

Okay, so here's the barn.

Yeah, this is my usual spot.

Prime position, out the front.

And she shoves me around here!

And there's no foot traffic,

there's no access
to mains power.

It was Siberia.

I'd been shafted.

My snags are a star item.

They have been for years.

But she shoved me around here

where I couldn't plug in
my portable freezer.

So you went into the barn
to have it out with Sophie.

And I got the bum's rush.

She couldn't care less.

Two grand's worth of defrosting
sausages on my hands,

and I had to go and get
my portable genny

to power my freezer
or I would've lost the lot.

Where do you keep
your generator?

Oh, here.

I whizzed back,
grabbed it, and went back.

Did anyone see you?

You did. When I got back,
you were at Frodo's.

No, I mean,
did anyone see you here?

From about 8:30 to 9:00?

Well, they're at the market!

Home in bed.

I didn't see anyone.

Where'd you get that?

Oh, I don't know.
Some sales rep.

You can get them anywhere.

They're on the Internet.

And they're accurate?

- As a guide?
- Yeah.

Any competent amateur
could do a decent job

on an animal following that.

Are we done here?

I've got a living to make,
you know.

Thanks.

Pete can't account for himself
during the crucial time.

He argued with Sophie
around 8:15,

then he says he left the market,
went to his shop,

then went back the market close
to 9:00 with his generator.

We saw him then.

Yeah, but no one
saw him at his shop.

So, what if the generator
was already on-site

and he actually never left?

Got back into the barn somehow.

Put his generator on the trolley
and wheeled it past us.

Possible.

Let's park it for now.

I want to know more
about the deal...

the land, the barn, the chutney.

I'll take that.

Might get some freebies...
lucky.

Chalmers, shoot up
to Tahuna Point...

check on the husband's story.

Yeah, he filled
his bike up with gas

at the petrol station,
got a coffee...

shouldn't be hard to verify.

Hard not to see a Ducati.

Where'd he get coffee?

The Do Duck Inn.

Oh, good cream teas there.

Oh, I'll take one
for the team on that.

I hope this won't take too long.

I'm in the process
of moving house.

That smells amazing.

Leek and gruyere.

Sophie wasn't the only cook
in the neighborhood.

Tea?

Yeah, only if you're making one.

Just clear the decks.

So, what do you want?

Can you tell me a bit more
about your relationship

with Sophie Grainger?

What relationship?

You mentioned a deal
to my colleague...

something unresolved.

Sophie wanted an answer?

She was persistent.

But then, so am I,

and I wasn't giving way
on that one.

It was about the chutney...
a licensing deal, is that right?

I told the other cop,
DC Chalmers.

Why are we going over it?

Just to hear it in your words.

Sophie wanted to buy my recipe
and market it under her label.

With her face on it.

Does that seem necessary to you?

Put your face on a jar
of chutney?

A name, yes.

My name.

I agreed she could market it...

her customer base is huge,
and we'd share the profits.

That way, it's a win
for both of us.

I didn't agree to her face
being on it.

That was going too far.

Anyway, she kept on it...
all or nothing.

And I decided yesterday
it would be nothing.

She got everything else from me.
She wasn't getting that.

Meaning the market and the barn?

And the land and the house.

Why did you sell?

Honey? Or as it comes?

Oh, just as it comes.

Why?

I'd had enough.

And she was offering
crazy money.

But I drew the line
at the recipe.

She didn't get it,

but there are some things
that money can't buy.

Take it.

I'd love to, but... the rules.

Yes.

I might be trying to bribe you
with condiments.

Cover my tracks with chutney.

Is that tablecloth
from the market?

Probably.

I'll need to take it
for forensic testing.

Be my guest.

I hope you can
get the stains out.

DSS Mike Shepherd,
Brokenwood C.I.B.

Hazel, is it?

Is your dad home?

He's in his office.

Rory.

Are you getting anywhere?

We're taking it step by step.

There's something you might
be able to help us with.

Do you have a copy
of Sophie's will?

Sorry, what? Her will?

Yeah, to help us understand
if money was a possible motive.

Someone marks my wife up
like a side of beef

and you think it's about money?

We're exploring every avenue.

But you're not obliged
to show us the will.

We can go through
the legal channels.

It'll just take longer.

No, I'll show you,
if I can find it.

We both had the same
arrangement... mirror wills.

Left everything to each other.

- Did Sophie have life insurance?
- What for?

We don't have debt.
Why pay the premiums?

There it is. Both wills.

Both the same.

Thanks.

I can't believe we're even
talking about this.

There's some screw
loose out there.

You're right,
whoever did this is disturbed,

and what we know is that
this was carefully set up,

and whoever set it up
had access to the barn.

- Is it usually locked?
- No.

No, anyone could get in.

Mm.

I take it you weren't
at the market.

Neither were either
of your children.

Is... Is that usual?

No, Sunday markets were
very much Sophie's domain.

We always left her to it.

So who set up the barn
for the photo shoot?

Oh, me and the kids.

We helped out the day before.

Keep the peace.

Did what we were told.

Well, I did.

Yeah, just up
against the hay bales.

Um, no on more of an angle.
It needs to look more real.

Casual.

Come on, Rory,
give it some flair.

Hazel, give it some texture.

Zhoosh up those rakes and hoes.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Yes! Informal. Authentic.

I mean this ridiculous
pantomime dame routine.

Really?! Now of all times?

I'm bringing the pizzazz, honey!

I mean,
this is so tragically trad.

I mean, gingham?

Really?

Ah, gingham works
at a farmer's market.

- In your opinion.
- Yes!

And mine is the only opinion
that counts.

Well, then maybe I am
not interested in helping you.

You've been precious
little help so far.

And you know what?

If you're thinking of
upstaging me tomorrow,

you can think again.

Hey, dial it back, Soph.

Don't worry.
I wouldn't be caught dead

at your little farmer's market.

Do you have teenagers?

Mm, challenging?

Well, you have to accept
they're not going to live

by your rules and...

Sophie found it hard
to step back.

What is with him?!

- "Them."
- Oh, please!

- He is not a "them."
- You don't get to say that.

And you don't get to tell me
how to speak to my own children.

And we don't want to be
in your books anymore...

the cutesy little apple-pie
family having a backyard barbie.

No, you've put paid
to that already

with all of your nonsense.

Look, I'm not pretending
to eat murdered animals

just so you can
flog off a cookbook!

Did you lock up when you left?

Ah, I wasn't the last one there.

Do you know who was?

Maybe you want to talk to Dylan.

Dylan McCracken?
The cheese maker?

Yeah. He... He had some stuff
that she wanted,

props for the shoot.

Such as?

He brought the pitchfork.

Hi, Mike.

Have you spoken
to the cheese maker yet?

I am on my way to his restaurant
as we speak.

Yeah, I want in on that.

He's hiding something.

So, Dylan, the pitchfork
that was used to kill

Sophie Grainger...
that belongs to you?

But there's a very
simple explanation.

I'd like to hear it from Dylan.

Dylan? You are the owner
of the implement.

She asked me to bring it over
for the, um... for the look.

As you see,
Dylan collects vintage tools.

And she liked my, um...
my aesthetic.

And your ass.

Mike, Sophie and I,
we shared an approach to food...

authentic, artisanal.

I liked what she was doing
for the market.

I mean, some people didn't,
but she was lifting

the sales for all of us.

So you took it to the barn?

Yeah. I didn't stay long.

She just had a few little
jobs she wanted done.

Oh, no!
Much higher, higher!

I mean, I need scale!

We need drama, right?

I think it's going to have to go
all the way to the beams.

Oh, I can grab it from here,
one sec.

Oh, see, that's it!

I love a man with can-do.

Where did you put the pitchfork?

I put it where she told me to.

So just, um... just like that?

Sort of...

I mean, you've got
the special touch.

So your prints would be
on the handle?

Well, that only proves
that he touched it,

which he's already told you.

However, you didn't
mention ownership

of the pitchfork on the day...
why the omission?

Don't tell me he's a suspect?

We're following up with everyone
involved in the market setup.

What time did you leave
the barn on Saturday?

About 6:00,
and I came back here.

And you didn't see
Sophie again that day?

No. I was working.

And then we went home.
Together.

So the next time you saw her was
at the market on Sunday morning?

That's right.

And can you give us
more of an exact time?

Ah, well, she told me to bring
the cheese to the barn at 8:30,

but I wasn't happy with that.

Dairy, it sweats
under the lights.

So I saw on her schedule
that the photograph was at 8:45,

so I went just before that.

Weren't the doors
already bolted by then?

I went 'round the back.

We were told that door
was locked too.

Sophie let me in.

We had a secret knock.

Oh. That's a big one.

Yeah.

You should've come
when I told you.

I'm going to have to
rearrange everything now.

That's alright, that, ah...

Yeah, right there that
is the perfect place...

Ah, don't touch that.

It's okay.
Just pick it up

and put it here
next to the cake stand.

It'll be easier
for everyone to see.

I said leave it!

Was it a recipe book?

It was thebook...
the holy relic.

Some old family heirloom.

Yeah, it was
Sophie's grandmother's.

Um, yeah, it had all
the old baking recipes

from her first book.

Mm, "The Baking Bible."
I've got that.

And the book, it was
this tatty old thing,

falling apart.

That's it.
It was like that.

But the cheese makes a more

compelling visual statement
than that...

We'll do it my way, thank you.

Now get out.
I need this shot before 9:00.

I was in and out
in under five minutes.

Did anyone see you coming out?

No, I went out the back.

Where did you go then?

I went to the Portaloo,

then I went to
the, um, coffee wagon,

and then I went back
to the cheese tent.

Where you were tasting the brie.

Before you left
to check on Willy.

Just as well I did.
He was very hot and bothered.

I had to take him home and walk
along the beach for ages.

Yeah, we're at Tahuna Point.

You went to Tahuna Point
on Sunday morning?

That's what I just said.

Why do you ask?

We've been very generous
with our time,

but we are fully booked tonight,

so we need to get on with it.

You can see yourselves out.

Some coincidence...

Rory and Petra,
both at Tahuna Point.

Is that the sound of a long bow
being drawn I hear?

Scoff all you like.

She's got a track record
a mile long.

So you immediately assume
she's banging Rory?

I know Petra.
He's just her type.

Chalmers.

I have statements
from two witnesses

who saw Rory Grainger at
Tahuna Point on Sunday morning.

Can I get a little extra jam
with that?

Ta.

A forecourt attendant at
the gas station remembers him.

You don't see a Ducati
around these parts every day.

And they've got a very
distinctive engine sound.

You can feel it
in your chest cavity.

And he noticed Rory's bike
helmet... described it.

And the waitress at
the Do Duck Inn remembers him

because he ordered a macchiato.

Thank you.

Ask her if Rory was alone.

Like a dog with a bone.

It's a simple question.

Negative, boss.

Okay, thanks.

Well?

Was Petra Conway-McCracken
all over Rory Grainger

at the Do Duck Inn?

No.

Probably because he didn't go
to Tahuna Point to shag her.

We don't definitively know that.

And they're both married,

so they wouldn't want
to be seen in public.

I'm wasting my breath.

Yeah, and if I'm right,
it confirms Rory's alibi.

We already have two witnesses
who have confirmed it.

We don't need further proof.

Mike.

Why are you still here?

Just exploring a few things.

Well, do it somewhere else.
We've got guests arriving.

Leaving now.

Do you have time
for a chat later on?

Another chat?

I just want to clear
something up.

Just between ourselves.

Well, come out to the beach
then.

Dylan won't be back till late.

He, um... He wouldn't want me
to talk to you,

but I think there's something
you should be aware of.

So where is
the tatty old notebook?

Come for the rest
of my washing, Detective?

I have a few more questions.

- Thanks for the tea.
- Anytime.

I saw a notebook here
this morning.

You put it in the drawer.

What about it?

I need to look at it.

Be my guest.

Where is it?

I gave it to Rosie.

A similar notebook went missing
from the crime scene on Sunday.

Can you explain that?

It's not similar. It's the same.

So you took it from the barn?

I did.

Before or after
Sophie was killed?

After.

Why?

Because the minute I saw it,
I knew what it was.

Where did you get
that book from?

I found it in a junk shop.

No, you didn't.

You took it.

From a bedroom.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

There's a message inside.

It's time for you to go now.

And did you?

No, I ran her through
with a pitchfork

and then cleaned up the mess
with a gingham tablecloth.

That was a joke.

Ms. Cooper, this is
a homicide investigation.

I'm aware of that. Yes.

You're not obliged to say
anything about your whereabouts

around the time
Sophie Grainger was murdered,

but if you can offer
any information,

now would be the time.

I knew that notebook
was Rosie's.

Sophie stole it.

Years ago.

When she keeled over,
that's when I went back in.

I knew you people would be
swarming all over it,

so that was my chance,
and I took it.

Come on in.

Nice place.

Yeah, it is.

Our happy home.

No offense, but I never knew
marriage could be like this.

Warm, trusting, totally open.

You sure about that?

I don't have any secrets
from Dylan.

Then why am I here?

I'm helping him.

Because he's too nice
to help himself.

Can you do this?
Are you on-duty?

- Technically, yes.
- What does that mean?

Well, this is on the record.

But, um, it's after-hours.

So I can exercise my discretion

when it comes to
an innocent glass of wine.

You won't be disappointed.

Mmm.

So, to the point?

In what sense is
your marriage open?

Did I just say that?

Yes, you did.

Do you have other partners?

No.
I meant open as in trusting.

So you're not involved
with Rory Grainger?

Where did you get that from?

Instinct. Precedent.

No, I'm not
"involved" with Rory.

But your instincts are right.

There was someone
in that marriage

looking for outside action.

I used to tease Dylan

that Sophie
had the hots for him,

but I wasn't worried.

And then one day,
I came home from lunch service

and she was here.

Body language was pretty clear.

Hi.

Petra!

Talk some sense into Dylan,
would you?

About what?

About what a brilliant team
we'd make.

Um, Sophie has a-a proposition.

A business proposition!

A joint cookbook... my recipes,
his cheeses,

and we feature the restaurant
as a location.

Sounds like a great partnership.

That's what I think,

but your man here's
playing very hard to get.

Well, you know, I've got so much
on my plate at the moment.

See what I mean?

I don't make these kind of
offers lightly.

Dylan could go
all the way with me.

Don't take too long.

I can't work with that woman.

Because?

Because she won't take no
for an answer.

He liked her, but he didn't
want to encourage her.

So he thought it would be
a mistake to work together.

And what did you say?

That he should level with her...

say he was happily married.

That if it was just business,
fine.

Did he say that?

He tried to.

No, for me, it's just
about the cheese.

No, just the cheese.

Did she back off?

No, she was still gunning
for him at the market.

Risqué remarks,
a hand on the bum.

Did he fend her off?

Not with a garden implement.

I know he's your husband, but...

Listen, Mike,
he is a gentle man.

It is not in him to be violent.

You cannot suspect him.

Well, it's my job
to suspect him.

And what about me?

What am I suspected of?

You had absolutely no grounds,
and yet you tried

to make a thing
out of me and Sophie's husband?

You were in the same place at
the same time on Sunday morning.

I wanted to put that to bed.

As it were.

But I take your word.

I believe the leopard
has changed its spots.

She has.

I'm a one-man woman now,
and that man is Dylan.

I'd stake my life he's innocent.

Where are
the crime scene photos?

They're on my desk.

And no, there's no notebook
on the cake stand.

Cressida took it,
and Rosie has it now.

She took it? When?

Before the crime scene
was secured.

She swooped in before
the cordon went up.

Bold but not illegal, I guess.

And if her story's true,

the notebook's
stolen property anyway.

What's in it...
the secrets to the universe?

If you're a baker, yes.

Old family recipes,
apparently nicked by Sophie,

who published them as her own,

but according to Cressida,

they actually belonged
to Rosie Ford.

So there could be motive there.

Recipes to die for.

Cressida's copped
to stealing the notebook,

but nothing beyond that.

How did you go
with this scenario?

Is Petra on with Rory Grainger?

Nope.

In my defense,
my instincts were right.

Just the wrong way 'round.

Come again?

Sparks were flying, but not
between Rory and Petra,

between Sophie and Dylan.

Sophie's been getting it on
with the cheese maker?

Sophie wanted to.
He wasn't playing ball.

So she came on to him.

He repelled her advances?

With a pitchfork?

Bit heavy-handed.

Yeah, it's out of character.

What? Last to see her alive.

Prints on the murder weapon.

I just don't think he's our man.

Oh, I know she looks harmless,
but there's something there.

And Pete's not in the clear yet.

Work for tomorrow, team.

Let's get some rest.

Mike?

I have something to share.

- Uh, I don't think...
- Relax.

I will go slowly.

But you must see this.

Observe... I am sectioned
like a beast

- each portion time-coded
using indelible ink.

The thigh, the loin...
my whole body is covered.

Yeah.
I'll take your word for it.

I then tried to remove the
markings with soap and water.

I stood under the shower,
vigorously rubbing.

Some markings
will became degraded.

The newer ones
or the older ones?

Newer. The older one
will not budge, as you see.

The short ribs and the brisket.

That's very impressive.

I have been conducting this test
for 24 hours,

no sleeping,

and my timings allow me
to determine

when Sophie's body was defaced
with a pin-point accuracy.

Sunday morning, 2:00 AM.

That's very precise.

The toxicology report
supports my finding.

I've been reading that.

She had a very
high blood alcohol reading.

Also sedatives.

A strong dose.

She would've been out cold.

Unresponsive to the sensation

of the pen on her flesh,

unaware of being moved,
as she must have been.

She was rolled over
to mark her back.

This I have replicated also.

That can't have been easy,

to draw on your own back.

I have required assistance.

More than that, I cannot say.

How long would you say
the markings took?

They are not slap-dash.

Between one hour and two hours.

So between 2:00 and 4:00
on Sunday morning?

That's correct.

- So whoever did this...
- Was in her house.

How did you sleep?

Like a baby.

Lucky.

Eat too much cheese?

No, it's just if I wake up
and my brain engages,

then I start running
all these different scenarios

and there's just this one thing
that I don't understand.

Why would you...

You're not listening, are you?

- What?
- Well, I was saying...

The lines on that bike
are just weird.

That's my cousin
Johnny's new ride.

Bit too Batman for me.

Oh, he doesn't care about looks.
He's into speed.

- Eh, cuz?
- What's that?

You're a speed man.

Guess so.

That's for both.

Last of the big spenders.

It's not for taking with you,
Frodes.

Johnny.

Oh, yeah.

Hi.

You're not with
the Ghost Train anymore?

Nah.

I'm an entrepreneur now.

Sure I can't tempt you?

Richer pickings elsewhere.

Nice bike.

Yeah, it's inline four, 800 CC.

Total chick magnet,
if I'm honest.

Okay, I can see that.

Yeah.

She might not give us anything.

I've put the kettle on
and, uh, I've made a slice.

Then again, she might.

Mm-hmm.

Dad's not home.

It's okay.
I want to speak to you and Arlo.

Arlo!

About...

About Saturday night.

Who was home?

Just us.

I made pizzas.

Mum was too trashed to cook.

It's true.

She was in a foul mood.

I wound her up, and Mum
and Dad had a fight.

- Not a fight, just...
- Just the usual.

Her being a complete control
freak and him checking out.

As in leaving the house?

No, I mean emotionally.

I don't know whether he was
in the house or not.

He might've been in his room.

In the office?

No, his bedroom.

They don't share a room?

Not lately.

Hm.

So, there was a disagreement.

Your dad went off somewhere.

What did your mum do?

She dropped Tramadol
and crashed out.

She was tense about her shoot.

Where was she?

In her room.

Has anyone been in your
mother's room since she passed?

Could you show me?

She was there.

I came in to say good night.

I don't know why.

She can't hear you
when she's like that.

It's just a nice thing to do.

What time was that?

Midnight, maybe.

Were you still up?

Yeah. I'm a night owl.

Were you aware of anyone
in the house that night?

Did you hear anyone
moving around?

So you don't know
where your father was?

No.

Were the windows
and doors secure?

What are you looking for?

Is this about the marks?

You know about those?

Dad told us.
He was really upset.

Do you think someone
broke in here and did that?

We know that they were made
that night.

When she was asleep.

Whoever's last to bed's
meant to lock up.

That was me.

Sometimes I forget.

Look... my mother wrote that.

"To my darling girl,
all I can give you."

She was 16.

"In trouble."

She was sent to one
of those homes.

You know they wouldn't even
let them hold their babies?

The meanness of it.

But she left this for me,
and then the nuns

gave it to my parents
when they came to pick me up.

You must have treasured it.

Slept with it every night.

I knew every page, every blotch.

I'd made everything in it
by the time I was 8.

Baking was the only thing
I was ever any good at.

School was a waste of time.

Although, cooking school
was better.

I mean, that's where
I met Sophie.

She was a real go-getter,
even then.

I didn't realize
you went that far back.

Years.
Before she was anyone.

But we all knew she would be.

I mean, she wasn't the best,

but, well, that's not
what counts, is it?

I remember Cressida saying
to me, "Watch that one."

Cressida was there too?

Yeah, she was the star
of the school.

Her cooking knocked spots
off Sophie's.

And she was cool.

She drove a Citroen,
she lived in a big old house.

I lived there too, for a while.

And that's when the notebook
disappeared.

Disappeared how?

Well, it happened
during a party.

You know what it's like.

People in and out of bedrooms,
stuff goes missing.

I still slept with it by my bed,

and that night, it had gone.

I was beside myself.

I knew someone had taken it.

And Sophie was there?

Yeah, along with
hundreds of other people.

I had no reason to suspect her.

But later, when her
baking book came out,

then I knew.

Every recipe identical to mine.

Every amount, every detail,
every instruction.

Did you ever put this to her?

Well, I couldn't prove
how she did it,

but I knew it, in my bones.

So on Sunday morning
at the market,

you didn't talk to her about...?

I never saw her.

But you knew the book was there?

Well, not till Cressida told me.

I had no idea.

I was very grateful she saw it.

That she got it for me.

Yeah, well, strictly speaking,

she shouldn't have touched it.

You're not going to take it
from me, are you?

We do have to examine it, yes,

but I promise faithfully
to return it.

If all the recipes
are as good as this,

it's a precious gem.

They are.

It made Sophie rich.

But money isn't everything,
is it?

The missing notebook.

Okay.

Not a motive
for murder, at this stage.

So we're no better off.

I've got doubts about this, too.

You're dismissing

the early-morning
speed-butchery theory?

Yeah, 'cause
it's not necessarily

connected to the killing.

- It's not?
- Well, it looks like it,

but I don't think
they're actually related.

I mean, put yourself
in Sophie's position.

It's Sunday morning,
your alarm goes off,

you wake up,
bit groggy from all the...

- the wine and Tramadol.
- Where is this coming from?

Toxicology report.
Anyway, you feel like mud,

but you've got a photo shoot
to get to,

so you've got to get going.

And then you get up and then...
what the...?

Hang on.

Someone's turned you
into a meat map.

I mean, what would you do?

Um, I'd be a bit freaked out.

Yeah, but you'd call
the police, right?

You wouldn't just go
about your day, would you?

But she does.

She has a shower, a bit of
a scrub, it won't come off,

and then she gets dressed
and she makes her way to work.

What does that tell you?

That she didn't think
it was a threat.

So it was what?

A prank?

I think so.

So she's heading
to the photo shoot,

the queen of the perfect image,

and she looks like something
you'd hang on a butcher's wall.

Who do you think'd find
that funny?

He keeps saying that
he couldn't stand her.

So maybe he'd go that far.

Really?

Break into her house and work
her over with a marker pen?

Or maybe they had
some kinky thing going on.

Sophie and Pete?

Well, didn't Petra say that

Sophie was looking for
extra action?

Yeah, with Dylan.
I mean, he's a snack.

Yeah, but he wasn't
playing ball.

And we know that Pete
hasn't always been

- strictly faithful to Mrs. Pete.
- Really?

Yeah, he visited a strip club
one time

when he was saying
he was elsewhere,

but that doesn't mean
that he plays away.

Let's put it to him.

See what he says.

You think I was porking
Sophie Grainger?

Please don't say "porking."

But that's what you want
to know.

We want to know if there's
any history between you

that perhaps
you haven't disclosed.

Not in a million years.

You lot must be truly desperate

if this is what
you've come up with.

There's a reason behind
this line of inquiry.

Someone did that
to Sophie Grainger.

What, like the poster?

Exactly like the poster.

Well, then, they didn't know
their ass from their elbow.

That's not how you'd portion
a human.

So you've thought about it?

What butcher hasn't?

And the cuts would be different.

And they're different
for every animal.

I mean, a chicken isn't a sheep,

and a human isn't
a cattle beast.

What's that say?

Oxtail.

Did she have that on her?

Yeah, she did.

But she doesn't have a tail,
does she?

So this isn't the work
of a professional butcher.

It's some amateur
trying to make a point.

Though what that point is
escapes me.

Got it.

Thanks, Pete.
You've been very helpful.

Who wants to send a message
to a meat lover?

A vegetarian.

You won't be in any trouble,
Hazel.

You'd actually be helping us.

Clearing something up.

Just tell them.

We did it together.

But it was my idea.

She didn't believe that animals
suffer when we kill them.

I just wanted
to make her to think.

An animal is a living being!

Oh, spare me
this bleeding-heart routine!

- I don't buy it.
- Girls...

They feel!
How would you feel

if someone chopped you up
and ate you?

Being vegetarian is good
for the environment.

It's good for humans,
It's a no-brainer.

She thought it was a fad,
but it's not.

She's a pig-headed moron!

She doesn't take us seriously.

We're not real.
We're just extensions of her.

Cute little props
for her photo shoots.

We're meat puppets.

She'sa meat puppet.

Oh, my God.

It was...
It was just a "what if?"

I didn't mean it.

But when I went in and...
and saw her all flaked out,

I thought, well, I could.

I thought it was a genius idea.

I thought she'd wake up
the next day

and she'd completely freak out.

Do you... Do you think
that this is funny?

Do you think it's funny?

What are you trying to do here,
Hazel?

Just ruin my life entirely?

Well, at least you have a life.

At least you're not trapped
in a cage being force-fed

- just so you can be slaughtered.
- No!

I do not have time
for this today!

Did the diva get the memo?

Sure did.

It won't come off!

I never thought that that would
be the last time that I saw her.

I didn't know how it was
going to look.

It was just supposed
to be a joke.

Well, we can see that.

Thanks for clearing it up.

Can I talk to you?

Privately?

I'll stay here with Hazel.

Sure.

Why are you spending
your time on that?

It's got nothing to do
with anything.

- We know that now.
- It's been three days.

Don't you know
who killed my mother?

Sounds like you do.

Here's a clue.

Where did this come from?

And this?

And this?

My mother was a brunette.

Hazel is too.
Mine's blonde.

Dad's is short. This is long.

Do you need a map?
Who has long gray hair?

Cressida Cooper.

She's your neighbor.

She's no doubt visited
at some stage.

Everybody drops hairs.

Mm, in the shower
in Dad's bathroom?

Mum found it.

- When was this?
- About two weeks ago.

She lost the plot.

Cressida finally sold me
the house.

- That's great.
- And the barn.

And the market.

You know why?

How could you do this to me?

She's... She's old!

- She's not old.
- She's older than me!

It's not about how she looks,
okay!

It's who she is.

Oh, she's no one.

She's someone to me.
She's someone I love.

You love her?

Yes.

And I want to be with her.

I don't want to live like this.

Like what?

Like this? This?

This beautiful home, our kids?

You have this life
because of me.

Okay...
I love the kids!

Thank you, Arlo.

I was right.

Rory's been playing away,
but not with Petra.

With Cressida Cooper.

Wow.

That changes the picture.

Doesn't it?

So that's what I didn't get...

suddenly she sells her house

and all her land
to a woman she can't stand.

Unless she's shagging
that woman's husband,

in which case it makes sense.

It's too messy.
She wants to get away.

Or maybe she doesn't.

Maybe she wants it to look like
she's going,

but she's not going anywhere.

So she makes the sale,
lets Sophie have it.

And then she really
lets her have it.

She gets to keep everything...
her home, her land, her barn,

and her man.

What now?

Some new information
has come to light.

Specifically about
Rory Grainger.

What about him?

Are you in a relationship
with him?

He's my neighbor.

Soon to be ex-neighbor.

An intimate relationship.

We can do this here or we can go
down to the station.

It's up to you.

You've withheld quite a bit
of information.

The notebook, your affair
with Rory Grainger.

I answered
every question you asked me.

If you don't ask
the right questions,

that's not my fault.

Do you still have keys
to the barn?

I handed over the keys
when I sold the property.

Yet you're still here?

Sophie and Rory were kind
enough to let me stay

while I found somewhere else.

Easy enough to make a copy.

Not these keys.
They're hand-forged.

Or keep a spare.

People don't really lock barns.

Sophie did, the morning
she was killed.

And someone got in anyway.

Yeah, was that you, Cressida?

Did you just not leave?

After you fought with Sophie
about the notebook,

did you hop up into the hayloft
and wait for your moment?

Sophie was distracted
with Dylan.

You'd had plenty of time
to set the beam.

All you had to do
was release the rope.

But Sophie had to be alone.

It's perfect.

Very clever.

But not quite clever enough,

because the beam
didn't kill Sophie.

She got up.

Bleeding, concussed,
she didn't know what hit her.

You had to finish the job off.

Quickly.

Just a moment to wipe
the handle off, then out.

Then carry on.

It's a terrific plan,
but I didn't kill Sophie.

What about Rory?

- What about him?
- Is your relationship ongoing?

No.

Who ended it?

I did.

Two weeks ago.

Don't leave me.

- I have to.
- Why?

Aren't we happy?

You might be.

Little bits and pieces of you...
that's all I get.

When you can sneak away,
when she's not home.

I want more than that.

I'm worth more than that.

I know you are.

Then leave her.

It's not that simple.

- Yes, it is.
- No. It's her brand.

Happy home, happy family.

Yeah, but it's not happy.

It works.

Functions.

If I can't have you,
honestly and openly, I'll go.

I'm not a plaything.

I'm... I'm the real thing.

- And if you can't see that...
- No, I do.

I do see that.

What would it take
to make you stay?

But I knew
he wouldn't leave her,

so I made the decision.

I sold her the house.

She got what she wanted.

Not entirely.

No. That must have been
a new experience for her.

I won't pretend I liked her.

Hi, Rory.
It's Kristin Sims.

Can you come down
to the station?

Yeah, now's good.

He didn't ask why?

He'll already know why.

Cressida wouldn't let him
walk into an ambush.

It's true. We...

We had a relationship.

Did Sophie know about it?

Cressida told her.

She wanted a clean break,
cards on the table.

She's like that.

She told Sophie
she could have the house

and, uh, she told her why.

Was that the first Sophie knew?

Yeah.

Yeah, she came straight home
and tore the house apart.

Found the evidence.

Confronted me.

I asked her if she wanted to
end the marriage,

but she didn't.

She was very invested,
and it meant a lot to me too.

The kids, you know.

I thought we'd, uh...
we'd weather it somehow.

We'd get through it.

But things were rocky?

Of course they were.

So on Saturday night,
you apparently argued again.

Like I said,
it had been a bit rocky.

And then?

I left the house.

- To go where?
- To Cressida's.

She wouldn't let me in.

Everything was in boxes.

She said, uh,

I'd made my choice
and she'd made hers.

So I, uh... I came back home.

I had a few drinks
and I went to bed.

Did you see Sophie
again that night?

No.

Or in the morning?

No.

I left early, like I said.

For Tahuna Point.

Any particular reason?

It's my Sunday ride.
I do it every week.

It's my "me" time.

I used it as an opportunity
to post something.

And what was that?

Birthday card for my nephew.

Can I get a name and number?

Sure.

Where's the post box
in Tahuna Point?

Um...

Outside the superette.

So you did that, then what?

Uh, I topped up the gas.

I-I headed back.

I stopped for a coffee.

How do take your coffee?
White? Black? Any sugars?

Macchiato.

The waitress wasn't sure
how to make one.

So I was just about to tell her
when I got the call from you.

You know all this.

Well, sometimes it's
good to go over things again.

In case there are things
that you forgot to mention.

Like the affair with Cressida.

And the birthday card.

I came home and you told me
my wife was dead.

I can't remember what I said.

But you can check.
It's my nephew's birthday.

He's 6.

Wow, really?

Rory and the chutney lady
were doing the wild thing?

Indeed. So, we're parking
the cheese maker,

the butcher,
and the doughnut lady.

And the kids.

Who probably wish
they'd left their little prank

till April Fool's Day,
although it was excellent.

Which leaves these two.

Were they in it together?

Either that or one of them
was lying.

Well, Cressida's very cocky.

I don't trust her.

And Rory was at Tahuna Point.

You ride, don't you?

Yeah, I do. Triumph.

Street twin.

A real chick magnet?

If you say so.

I need you to take a spin
up to Tahuna Point.

Go as fast as you can,
within the speed limit,

and post this at the superette.

- Then stop for gas.
- And on to the Do Duck Inn?

Yeah, I'll see you there.

I could have a scone?

You have a mail delivery
to verify.

Okay, thanks for your help.

Ah, the birthday card arrived.

Rory's sister sent it through.

That's the envelope that shows
where it was franked.

Good work.

Well, I think I deserve
a cream tea.

Two cream teas, thanks,
and a moment of your time.

DSS Mike Shepherd, and this
is Detective Kristin Sims.

Do you remember this man?

Another guy was asking
about that.

Yeah, he's a colleague.

He said you remember
serving this man.

Yeah.
He wanted a flash coffee.

- A macchiato.
- That's the one.

I noticed him when he arrived,

because his bike
was really loud.

He pulled in off the road,
parked outside,

then took a seat.

When you say
he pulled in off the road,

did he park on the other side
and cross the road?

Or did he do a U-turn?

No, he just came out
of the traffic.

On this side of the road?

Yep.

What time was this?

Maybe quarter to 10:00.

And how did he seem to you?

Macchiato, it's an espresso
with a whisper of hot milk.

Just normal.

He knew what he wanted,
he ordered straight away,

that weird kind of coffee,

and then he got a phone call
and left really fast.

Without the coffee.

Thanks.
You've been very helpful.

You want those cream teas now?

We sure do.

Um, what kind of jam
comes with the scones?

I think it's apricot.

Apricot? Why?

If you were coming
from Tahuna Point,

you wouldn't be on
this side of the road.

You'd be on the other side.

You'd need to cross the road.

Maybe he wasn't coming
from Tahuna Point.

That guy on the Ducati
on Sunday morning

bought a Voodoo bar at
the gas station at Tahuna Point.

That chocolate bar guy...

did he have something
on his hand?

Yeah, yeah, he did.

Something kinda girlie.

Lame as.

And he had a tattoo on his hand.

And it might just be
a freaky coincidence,

but that guy, Frodo's cousin,

has a tattoo as well, same hand.

It's a total chick magnet
if I'm honest.

Let's bring Johnny in.

Last time we spoke,
you were a Traveling Wilberry.

Wilbury Brothers, that's right.

I ran the ghost train.

As I recall, you had a side line
in recreational substances?

For medicinal purposes.

Yeah, of course.

But now you're in
the lawn-mowing business.

Yeah, I took over my cousin
Frodo's operation.

It's a steadier line of work.

Traveling shows come and go,
but lawns stay put.

You got it, mate.

In a nutshell.

Plenty of grass up
at the Grainger place.

Oh, they've got a ride-on.
It's no sweat.

Do you mostly deal with
Rory when you're up there?

Mostly, yeah.

Did you know Sophie at all?

Oh, a little bit.

It's bad what happened, eh?

It's not a sight you forget.

No indeed.

You were at the coffee cart
when it happened, weren't you?

Well, you'd know... you saw me.

You'd arrived late.

Where were you before that?

Home.

Not at Tahuna Point?

Why would I be there?

To buy a Voodoo Bar?

What?

There's someone on
a time-coded CCTV tape

buying a chocolate bar
at the gas station.

- Looks like you.
- Well, it wasn't.

Okay, well, I'll show you.

It's a pretty good likeness.

Don't go away.

The guy on the tape's
probably wearing a helmet.

- How would you even know...
- Just take a moment, Johnny.

Sometimes the first thing we say
isn't the right thing,

and in a situation like this,

it's important to be right.

So if you wanted
to change your story, well...

Now would be a good time.

You can feel it in your chest.

We've got some more questions.

I'm sorry,
I've got Reverend Greene

coming to talk about
the funeral service.

Can it wait?

Not really.

But it shouldn't take long.

Here's what you've
told us so far, Rory.

On Sunday morning,
you left the house early

and rode out to Tahuna Point,

where you posted a birthday card
to your nephew,

put some gas in your bike,

and then you headed home,
by way of the Do Duck Inn.

I've been wondering,

did you take your helmet off
at any point?

When I got to the Do Duck.

- Not before that?
- Well, there was no need to.

There was a stamp on the card,

and I paid for the...
for the gas at the pump.

At 8:24.

About that, I guess.

We've got it on CCTV.

We can be exact.

So you pay for the gas.
What's your next move?

Ahh...

Do you go inside,

buy a Voodoo Chocolate bar,
and pay with cash?

Because someone did.

It looks like you.

Same helmet, same leathers.

But you haven't mentioned it.

So either
it's something you forgot,

like the birthday card...

Or this person isn't you.

Of course it's me.

And I sent that card.

We know. We checked.

So, assuming this is you,

after buying the chocolate bar
at 8:25 and paying cash,

you head off to the Do Duck Inn.

Or do you?

I do.

Straight there
from Tahuna Point?

- Yes.
- So you were traveling south?

Yeah, that's right.

Did you pull in opposite
the café and cross the road,

or did you do a U-turn
and park outside?

Ah, it's too dangerous
to do a U-turn there,

so I-I crossed the road.

Of course, because if you're
traveling the other way,

you would've just pulled in.

Yeah, no, that's right.
But I wasn't, so I didn't.

You sure about that?

Yeah, I know where
I was coming from.

What if you weren't coming
from Tahuna Point?

What if you were coming
from a rendezvous point

where you switched vehicles
with another rider

of a similar build to yourself.

You would've been
traveling north, not south,

and you would've just pulled in,

no need to cross the road.

I crossed the road.

Not according to the waitress.

Who doesn't even know
what a macchiato is.

Well, she's not the only one
who remembers things

slightly differently from you.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, it's all coming back
to me now.

Look, I didn't think anything
of it at the time, but...

Great job, mate.

Yeah.

You busy Sunday?

Well, that depends.

What are you after?

Could you shoot up to
Tahuna Point,

post something for me?

Yeah, for sure.

Is there a fee?

You know that old Z800 in there?

You can have it.

For the ride?

Nah, for good.

Needs a bit of a tune-up,
be ready in a couple of days.

It must be a pretty
important letter.

It is.

Since that bike won't be ready,

take the Ducati if you like.

Sweet.

Is that all you want?
Just the posting or...?

Yeah.

You'll need to put some gas
in the tank.

40 bucks should do it.

Oh, and, um,
keep your helmet on.

Yeah.

You didn't wonder about that?

In my life, I have done stuff
a little outside the circle.

The circle being?

Well, the circle of law.

The law is circular.

I did not know that.

The way I see it, yeah.

It's like the circle of life
only different.

So, there are two circles.

There's the circle of life and
then there's the circle of law.

Now, I've done stuff not quite
inside the inner circle.

In my time.

And the way that works is
don't ask, don't tell.

So you didn't ask?

A motorbike to post a letter?

I'm not a moron.

I figured he was banging
some chick on the side,

something like that.

Wanted to lay a false trail,
be somewhere he shouldn't.

Who am I to judge?

But when I saw what happened
to his missus,

I got a bad feeling.

That guy smokes a ton of weed.

You can smell it on him.

I don't know what
he's trying to pull here,

but... possibly extortion...
this is nuts.

What...

is that?

Could you put your hands
on the table, please?

I'm not going on with this.

Um, I want my lawyer.

You're entitled to that.

But while we wait,
why don't I share with you

what Johnny shared with us?

He was very thorough.

You did indeed leave the house
early on Sunday morning.

But only to meet Johnny
at the rendezvous point.

You swapped vehicles,
you gave him your leathers,

he shot off on the bike.

At which point, presumably,

you went back to the barn
and hid in the hay loft.

You had a key,
or the doors were unlocked.

All you had to do was wait.

Because you'd already made sure
that the beam was loose,

ready to fall.

If you dropped it
at the right moment,

it would look like
a terrible accident.

It wasn't meant to be like that.

Cheese makes a more compelling
visual statement.

We will do it my way!
Thank you!

Now get out.
I need this shot before 9:00.

Go.

It's perfect.

It was meant to be just...

just a blackout.

But she saw you.

So you had to finish it.

I couldn't lose Cressida.

I knew what I had to do
to make her stay.

She told me.

No Sophie.

My life, just as it is,

with you in it, and Sophie gone.

Are you saying
it was Cressida's idea?

No. No.

No, you... you can't blame her.

I mean, if she'd known,
she would have stopped me.

She's way smarter than me.

If she was going to
kill someone,

she would never get caught.

I wonder if it was her idea?

Well, if he says it wasn't,
and she doesn't crack...

She'll never crack.

Then we'll never know.

Anyway, it wasn't an idea
that killed Sophie Grainger.

It was a beam and a pitchfork.

Till death do us part.

It's a bit extreme.

Why didn't he just leave her?

You've never been married,
have you?

Came close a couple of times.

Oh! But?

It's like the tide,
came and it went.

I'll just say this...
it's not a state

that encourages
rational decision making.

Leave a couple plain.

You don't know
what you're missing.

I was dubious, but, man,
this stuff's good.

Yeah, and the cheese
is good too, right?

Good, not great.

Oh, just let it go!

Did the lab come back with a
result on Cressida's tablecloth?

Ah, yup, it was chutney.

- You're mad to go near it.
- I can't agree.

If I found a woman
who made chutney this good,

I wouldn't want
to let her go either.

Yes, but would you kill for her?

I'd like to think not.

- Mmm.
- Mmm.

So good.