All language subtitles for Episode 21 The Price of Love

Like I said on the phone, the owner
moved to a nursing home a while ago.

Most of the family are overseas.

Just between you and me, there's been
a lot of fighting over the house.

So I think a quick sale's
on the cards.

Well, that... that is a strong smell.

I know it's a little whiffy.
I'll just open some windows.

Look, they're nailed shut.

Um, really, it's about land value.
This is a prime location.

What's the smell?

Clearly this house
needs a lot of love.

Or you could just decide
to knock it down, start again.

That might be a good idea.

Morning, Constable.
Sarge.

Morning, Detective Levitt.
Morning, Sarge.

Didn't expect to see you here,

given your phone
went straight to voicemail.

Sarge, I was enjoying my night off.
Left my phone at a friend's place.

Picked it up first thing this
morning then I came straight here.

No need to apologise, Rhys.
You're entitled to a night off.

I know that.

Nick and Allie?
Inside with Pathology.

I just thought
I'd get the uniforms...

Don't... let me hold you up.

Now I know why
I'm a dog person.

My mother has cats, Detective. They
can be a very faithful companion.

Until you die and then you're lunch.
Thank you for that thought.

Hey, Sarge.

Thought you and I could
take the lead on this one.

Too late, Sarge.
I took the call-out.

How about it?
Yeah. It's been a while.

Next one's all yours, Allie.

Any ID?
Not that we found so far.

Looks like the killer brought
or lured her here to do the deed.

I suspect she may have been
knocked unconscious initially.

Beaten with a blunt object, tied up
and at some point gagged.

There's glue residue here.

My preliminary count is eight
stab wounds to the chest area.

So, a frenzied attack.

How many constitutes a frenzy?
How long has she been dead?

Be able to give a more accurate time
when I get her back to the morgue.

I've already got Missing Persons
running a check.

She's not street.
Her clothes are expensive.

And those shoes -
Italian, designer, handmade.

OK, Allie, put a description
out to the media.

Ronnie, we're going to need
your findings on this ASAP.

No probs. She's top of the list.

I have to take this.

Superintendent?

Commander Waverley and I
made a gross miscalculation.

Sir?
Hand me that doodad.

Jug, you idiot.

We thought you'd be happy here
with your little mates.

But you're aggressive,
you're snappy and...

..you've eaten one of my tiddlers,
Basil

Time for you to vacate the premises.

Sir, I've got a crime scene
I really should get back to.

Don't you want your...
your increment?

Sorry?
Performance review time!

The hoop my sergeants
have to jump through

to get their extra $10.60 a week.

Right.
How do you think you're going?

Knocking a few heads,
kicking a few goals?

Tell you what. You fill it out, hey?

How you're going. Your strengths,
your weaknesses, all that guff.

I'll put my X on it, you'll get
your increment, everyone's happy.

Suit you?

You want me to review
my own performance?

Call it self-assessment.

Don't forget you're pretending
to be me, so be honest.

Command take these reviews
very seriously, especially Waverley.

What did Jarvis want?

Handballing paperwork to me as usual.

Just in time, detectives.
Anything illuminating?

Initially, no. Can tell you
she's about 25, 26 years of age.

Heavy smoker
with a fabulous manicure.

None of which helps us
with her identity.

Are her bloods back yet?
No. Another day at least.

So we've got bugger all.
You said 'initially'.

Someone's paying attention.

I found this.

What is it?
Good question.

It was lodged in her oesophagus.

It's a sales receipt
for a pair of shoes.

Very expensive shoes.

Could take the kids to Tassie
on what they cost.

Can't believe it survived
her gastric juices.

Never made it to her stomach.
Yeah, lucky.

It's only lucky
if it tells us something.

Yeah.
Yeah.

Yes, I am still here.

Great.

OK. Yeah, if you could email
that across, that'd be great.

Alright, the credit card
belonged to a Mr Chris Fleetwood.

It hasn't been reported stolen.

Good work. We do need to confirm
he personally made the purchase.

Do you guys mind bringing
Mr Fleetwood in for a chat?

I thought you and the sarge
were leads on this.

I need to follow up on a couple
of things. I'd appreciate it.

OK.

Can we step outside for a minute?

You've decided to end it,
haven't you?

This isn't a casual fling.

I know.

Do you?
Nick, this means everything to me.

Great. That's the way I feel too.

Let's get married. Have kids.

I've never wanted that with anyone
before but I want that with you.

What if we do all that and then
in two years time we split up?

It's worth taking the risk,
don't you think?

Yeah, but I'm the one
that's taking all the risk.

If we stay together, one of us
is gonna have to leave Homicide

and you and I both know
that it's gonna be me.

Nick, I've devoted my life
to this job.

If I leave Homicide,
I don't know who I am anymore.

OK.

I'll transfer out.

You want a family.
I want you.

But I don't know if I'm ready
to have children.

That's something we can decide
in the future.

I'm sorry.

I just... don't have the answer yet

and it's not fair to keep you waiting
until I do.

Bloody hell.

I've got an interview to do.
Nick.

You don't know her?
How often do I have to say it? No.

Have another look at the photo.
I don't need to look again.

It's not a request.
Sorry, I'm not trying to be...

The receipt
in the girl's throat

came from this guy's credit card.

Have you run a background check?
Chris Fleetwood's a cleanskin.

He owns a newsagency.
Got two kids, his wife's deceased.

He's Mr Ordinary.

Last Monday, what did you do
with yourself, Mr Fleetwood?

Monday's my day off.
Went to the shopping centre.

Alone?
Yeah.

Meet anyone?
No.

Buy anything?
No.

So why did you use your credit card
to buy a pair of shoes?

Ladies shoes?

Must have been credit card fraud
or something.

Someone stole my number. Someone
used one of those skimming things.

You're lying.
No, I'm not.

Stop wasting my time.
I'm not wasting your time.

I don't like being lied to!

We know you bought the shoes, Chris.

We showed your licence photo
to a shop assistant

who said that you bought this woman
a pair of shoes.

This woman has been murdered.

Well, if you're saying I killed her,
you're wrong.

You wouldn't mind giving us
your fingerprints for elimination?

No, fine, take my prints
'cause I didn't kill her.

I loved her.

Yet you wouldn't admit
to knowing her.

You don't understand.

Six months ago, my wife died -
cancer.

Barely a month after the funeral
I meet this woman

and she's... she's beautiful,
she's funny.

She's got this laugh that...

She's into me.
She's changed my life.

That doesn't explain why
you wouldn't admit to knowing her.

My kids. Tara and Malcolm.

What, I'm supposed to tell 'em I've
fallen in love with another woman

when their mother's
barely cold in her grave?

Come on! I couldn't do that to them.
OK, let's just back it up a bit.

Mr Fleetwood, can you start
by telling us who this woman is?

Her name's Mischa. Mischa Downes.

And I love her. I really do.

Why would someone so young and hot

hook up with someone
old enough to be her father?

A bit rich coming from someone
who still lives with their aunty.

Thank you.

More designer clothes.

Pretty hot lingerie.
Most definitely liked to turn it on.

Rhys.

Police! Don't move!
Turn around, hands against the wall.

Alright. I'm Darren Jacobs.
I'm Mischa's neighbour.

I've just come to drop off her mail.
I'm her neighbour.

How did you get in?
She gave me a key.

Look, I've got a key.
ID.

Come on, now!
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Here.

Where's the mail?
Yeah. Look...

I was just raiding her CDs.

But she doesn't mind. She lets me.

Stay here.
Sit down.

I think I know what Mischa
saw in old men.

Gordon, $300 per night.
Les, $200 per night plus hotel.

Chris, $100 per hour. Extra for sex.

Mischa was a hooker.

This is stupid.
He hasn't done anything.

Relax, Mal. We'll sort it out.

Police have just got him mixed up
with someone else.

Your father has been
positively identified

as being with the victim
shortly before she died.

Identified? By who?

Dad works in the shop
nearly every day. 5am to 6pm.

You're with him every day?
Most days, yeah.

I quit uni when Mum got sick.

Dad needed me full-time
to help in the shop.

What do you do?
Deliveries.

That's all?
Look, what's you're problem, mate?

What have we done to you?
Malcolm!

It's not worth it.

You'll have to stay closed
until further notice.

A forensics team
will be conducting a search

of your premises and residence.

On what grounds?

As my colleague said, your father
has been positively identified

and is now a person of interest
to our enquiry.

He's also confirmed that he was
in a relationship with the victim.

Dad wasn't in any relationship.
He only lost Mum a few months ago.

We believe there are a number
of weapons used in the attack.

We'll be searching your premises
for those weapons.

That's just ridiculous. Dad doesn't
own any weapons, does he, Mal?

Malcolm?

Two years ago the shop got done over
and Dad got punched in the head

and they took the till.

Ever since then we've kept
something under the counter.

What is it?
A baseball bat.

Show us.

That's protection. It's not illegal.
Malcolm. The bat.

It's not there anymore.

It's gone.

Over here!

Knife?
A blunt object.

Home run.

Recognise this, Chris?

Is that her blood?
Answer the question.

We've got one in our shop.
We know. The kids told us.

So we went back to the crime scene
and found this

tossed in the yard across the street.

We recovered several sets
of fingerprints from it.

Some of them are yours.

Of course they are. It's my bat.

My kids' prints will be on it too.

The girl who does Saturdays with us,
casual staff.

Anyone could have taken it.
Especially you.

Or anyone who wandered in
off the street

and reached over
when my back was turned.

They'd have to know it was there.

You find a shopkeeper in that area

who hasn't got
something behind the counter.

OK. So you expect us to believe
it's just a pure coincidence

that one of the weapons used to kill
the woman you were secretly seeing

came from your shop.

Look, I'm not going to admit to
killing her. I'll never do that.

What did you and Mischa do on Monday
after you bought her the shoes?

We had lunch at the shopping centre.

After that,
we went back to her place.

And...?
We made love.

Then I went home.
What time was that?

Some time between 6:00 and 7:00.
I couldn't be sure.

The kids weren't home.
I was in bed by 8:00.

And you're maintaining
that Mischa Downes was alive and well

when you left her apartment?

Yes. I swear.

Why would I hurt her?
We were planning a life together.

How much was that gonna cost you?...

I don't understand.

You were paying her to see you,
as were many other men.

Are you saying she was a prostitute?
Yeah.

Compared to a lot of the other
clients in her book,

you weren't getting
such a great deal.

No. No, no, no.

That your mobile number?
Yeah.

She was charging her $100 an hour.
More if you had sex with her.

Monday's outing must have cost you,
what, $600, $700?

And that's not including the shoes.

No, that's disgusting.
Mr Fleetwood.

You wouldn't be the first man
to fall for a woman who's faking it.

Now, you book Mischa a few times.

You thought the sex would make
you feel less lonely.

No.
But you got confused.

Maybe you thought
you could rescue her.

She was vulnerable.
But she didn't want rescuing.

She rejected you
and that made you angry.

No.
So you hurt...

So you took her to that house
where no-one would find her,

you tied her up,
you bashed her with a bat

and then you stabbed her with a knife
over and over and over again.

What did you do with the knife,
Mr Fleetwood?

Where did you hide the knife?

She was like a little bird.

She reminded me of my Sonia.
Come on.

Alright, look, maybe I was an idiot.
Maybe I jumped in too quick.

But I did not kill her
and I never ever paid for anything.

Well, that's not to mention several
hundred dollars worth of shoes.

Couple of grands worth of dresses

and enough perfume
to mask a sewerage farm.

All innocent gifts,
according to Fleetwood.

His name's in the book. He pays her
and he buys her gifts too.

Where did they meet?
Nick and Allie took the interview.

I had some paperwork
I had to deal with. Nick?

Fleetwood says
that after his wife died

he couldn't stand being at home alone
on his days off.

So he took to spending time in
shopping malls, sitting in cafes.

Apparently one day she comes in,
sits next to him, starts talking

then she starts popping into
his newsagency when he's working.

Next thing he knows, they're having
dinner and falling into bed.

Story of your life, hey, Nick?

In reality, Fleetwood's
just a pathetic old prick

who's ashamed to admit
he was paying for sex.

She played him, he fell for her, she
got bored, she told him to go away.

He killed her. His prints are on
the bat, for God's sake.

OK, OK. Charge him.
Come on.

Have you got a problem?
He didn't do it.

You've changed your tune.

Back in the interview room you had
him hung, drawn and quartered.

Didn't think you'd have a problem
with going hard on a suspect.

I don't, just like to get a word in

rather than sitting there
looking like a dickhead.

Poor dickhead.

Just because he didn't confess
when you put on your scary face

does not mean he's innocent.

What's your theory? Back it up.
The bat.

Why would he dump it
near the crime scene

when it could easily be traced
back to the store?

There's plenty of dumb killers out
there and it was a frenzied attack.

So it's most likely unplanned.

The killer found an empty house,
lured the girl there

and had a baseball bat and a knife
with him - that's planned.

OK, cut him loose for now.

Media appeal for witnesses
goes out to Crimewatch.

Won't hurt to wait and see
if that bears fruit.

We done for the day?
We're done.

Duncan, you coming for a drink?

Sorry, I'm having dinner
with my sister.

Allie? You coming for a drink?

Nuh. I gotta go for a run
otherwise I'm gonna punch someone.

Want some company?
I said run, not a jog.

Yeah, I know. I can run.

I can run!

What's up?

We still leads in this case?
Yes, but something came up.

I had to deal with it.

Would have been better
if we'd taken that interview.

I had stuff to do.

Crimewatch
is seeking public assistance

in relation to the death
of Mischa Downes.

Miss Downes was stabbed to death
in a derelict residence

in North Road, Bayside.

She was 5'7", small build

and had a distinctive butterfly
design on her fingernails.

Police are appealing
to anyone who may have seen her

in the Bayside area
on Monday, 14 July.

Morning, all.

How did you pull up after the run?
Yeah, good.

Allie, are you leading
on the Mischa Downes investigation?

I don't know. Am I, Nick?
Should I ask the sarge?

What have you got?
There's a Vivienne Chan downstairs.

She saw the appeal on Crimewatch
and she thinks it's her friend.

Alright, thanks, Jen.

Rhys, you and Allie take it.
Yeah, sure, Nick. No worries.

It was definitely Mischa.

I do her acrylics

and Mischa's the only one
who ever asked for butterflies.

How long have you known her?
A few years.

She started off as a client coming
in once a week to get her nails done.

Lots of the girls do.

By 'girls' you mean prostitutes?

When they come to me
for nails or wax, tan,

I try to make it a nice time
for them, you know?

Relaxing. Some of the girls
don't want to talk.

But, um, not Mish.
'Motormouth' I call her.

When was the last time you saw her?
Last Friday.

That's when I gave her
the butterflies.

You know, she said
they were like her new life.

What did she mean?
She was getting out of the game.

She had a client who was giving her
a hard time, she was going to leave,

maybe go to Queensland,
get away from him.

What is a 'hard time'
in Mischa's books?

Did he hit her?
He forced her to do things?

No, Mish knew how to handle guys
that bashed her.

This guy was different. He didn't
want her to have any other clients.

He had a lot of money.
He gave her things too.

That doesn't sound too bad.
Nothing's for free, is it?

He wanted to put her in a cage,
lock her up like a bird.

I was worried for her.

Is there any chance that she might
have been mistaken about this?

You know, a lonely old man,
well-intentioned,

just coming on a bit strong?

Old? No. Scary Guy wasn't old.
He was young and strong.

Dangerous.

Scary Guy throws
a new light on things.

Why don't you check the little black
book? There's copies there too.

But there's only first names
and mobile numbers in here.

Call each one,
see who sounds the scariest.

Maybe our illustrious leader
can help us out. Sarge?

We've got Mischa's client list
and mobile numbers

but we need the surnames and
addresses from the phone company.

You've got a lead?

She was being harassed
by a violent client.

Younger. Not Chris Fleetwood.

We need to find out who he is
and what we're dealing with

before we make contact.

It'd be good to know
if he has a violent record.

Reckon you can sort us out
with a warrant?

Sargeant Ryan?
Sir.

Got that paperwork for me?
Still working on it.

Not bloody 'War and Peace', son.
ASAP. Waverley's making noises.

On it, sir.

Sarge!

Get the paperwork done for
the warrant and then I'll sign it.

Come on, Rhys. Let's go and visit
Mischa's neighbour.

Darren? Why?

There's a Darren
in Mischa's little black book

but there's no phone number.

Why do you reckon that is?
'Cause he's the next-door neighbour.

Sleeping in, Darren? Lucky you.

Hey, what are you guys
doing here?

A few questions.
Yeah, um...

It's not really a good time right now
but I'm happy to come down later on.

It'll only take a minute.

Alright, cool. Yeah, come in.

Sorry, it's a little bit trashed.

That's personal use, I swear.

We're Homicide. Not the Drug Squad.

Yeah, that's cool. Yeah. I need it.

Yeah, I've got that thing
when you can't sleep.

Insomnia.
Yeah. Yeah, I've got that.

So just a little toke before bed
sends me off.

Um, what are you guys doing here

'cause I don't think
I'll be much help.

Is that right?

We just need a few more details
about your neighbour Mischa.

Look, I don't really know her
that well.

Cut the crap, Darren.

You see, your name's
in her client book.

Did you know Mischa,
she was an escort?

No way.
Yeah.

OK. Look, OK, I might have had
her a few times, you know?

She had to earn a living.
You know, help her out.

Friends with benefits.

You see, the information we've had
says Mischa, she was being...

..harassed by a young bloke.

Do you know anything about that?
First I've heard of it.

No late-night fights?
No.

No. She didn't come to your door,
all freaking out.

Looking for somewhere to hide.
No.

Where are you going with this, sorry?
Darren.

You see, I think that young bloke
who was harassing her...

I think that might have been you.
Whoa, hang on a minute.

Were you in love with Mischa,
were you, Darren?

No. Are you crazy?

You killed her because she didn't
want anything to do with you?

What? So you think I've got something
to do with this murder?

You know what?

I'm starting to think
I might need a lawyer.

Why? Have you done something wrong?

Yeah, that's it.
I want you guys to leave.

I got nothing else to say to you.

Will you show us out, then?
Yep.

How did you go?
Darren Jacobs likes the odd toke.

He freaked a bit when Duncan
pointed the finger at him.

Wouldn't exactly call him scary,
though.

Yeah, some potheads, they can turn
nasty. Psychotic paranoia.

Well, I'll see your dope smoker
and I'll raise you a steroid freak.

Phone info came through

so I've been collating profiles
on Mischa's clients.

One of them has form.
Who?

Vincenzo 'Vinnie' De Luca. He's 28.

Conviction for aggravated assault
and a wad of speeding fines.

Scary guy. Looks like he knows
how to swing a baseball bat.

'Muscles' wasn't home so I put
a KALOF out on his vehicle.

I say we keep them as possibilities

'cause at some stage
they've both been Mischa's clients.

Either one of them could have gone
into that newsagency

and grabbed the baseball bat
from behind the counter.

While we're waiting for the KALOF
to dig him up,

let's see if we can get
a positive ID.

Yeah?

So where's your father?

Out in the van on deliveries
to our sub-agents.

He reckons he's better
if he's got something to do.

He can't tell you any more.
None of us can.

We're also following
a new line of inquiry.

We have some photos
we'd like you to view.

You don't think he did it, do you?
Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Your father is still a person
of interest in this investigation.

You recognise either of these men?

Nope.
Tara?

My God. That guy. I know him.

You sure?
Absolutely.

He comes into the shop all the time.

Hey, hey, hey, Cuz. Cuz.

Get out of my car, man.

Vinnie?
Baby.

Vincent De Luca? Police.

You can't do this, mate.

If this is about Friday night,
he threw the first punch.

We were defending ourselves.
This isn't about some street brawl.

We need you for questioning in
relation to murder of Mischa Downes.

Do you know this woman?
Yep.

How do you know her?
She's a prossie, mate.

That's how I know her.
And you're her client.

Yeah, well, I don't have any problem
getting girls

but a root without the
complications, it's worth the cash.

So... what went wrong?

No. No way. I didn't do that.
She's a pro, mate.

Anyone could have done that to her.
But we know about you, Vinnie.

We know Mischa was more than a root
to you.

She was your property, right?
Yeah. I paid for her. Yeah.

But she lost interest.
Called it off.

Pretty embarrassing being dumped
by a chick you were paying to screw.

She said she was in love.
She wanted to retire.

She's supposed to be a professional.

You found out
who she was in love with,

decided to show them
who was in charge.

Got rid of Mischa, framed her lover.

This is a joke!
I don't know who she was seeing.

You've been identified, Vincenzo.

You were seen at his place of work.

A witness has placed you at the shop
where the murder weapon was stolen.

What shop?
Newsagency on Kemp Street.

You cops, mate. You're trying to fit
me up just 'cause I've got a record.

A record that includes assault.

So? That doesn't mean I did anything
to that stupid cow!

She didn't dump me. I dumped her.
-Right.

Nah, it's true, mate.
She was preggers.

And I wasn't gonna let that slut
land me with a baby.

How the hell did Pathology
miss that?!

I don't believe it.

Jen's trying to get hold of them now
to verify it.

Being pregnant puts a whole new spin
on things.

Now we need to follow up
all the clients in Mischa's diary.

Maybe she was blackmailing
one of them.

"Pay up or I'll have the baby."

Chris Fleetwood was ripe for a scam.

Maybe Vinnie was just spinning you
story to get himself off the hook.

He's off it anyway.
His alibi checks out.

On Monday night, Vinnie was working
the door of a nightclub till 2am.

Multiple witnesses.

How many of them were off
their faces or in his pocket?

Fair call, Allie.
You weren't in the interview.

Vinnie was telling the truth.
I watched the interview.

I'm keeping an open mind.

If we do take Vinnie out of the
picture, that leaves Chris Fleetwood.

And as a long shot, Darren Jacobs.
It's not Chris Fleetwood.

How can you be so sure?
His prints were on the bat.

Along with five other sets,
including his son, Malcolm's.

Why aren't we looking at the kids?
Well, maybe we should be.

Hang on.
What's the connection to Mischa?

Tara and Malcolm say they didn't
know their father was doing...

And what? Because they say it,
it's true?

So what's the motive, Nick?
How about "Mum's dead"?

"Dad's screwing a woman we hate."

And you'd know 'cause you spoke to
them for two seconds.

I'll talk to them again.

Jen, what's the verdict?

According to Pathology,

Mischa Downes was definitely not
up the duff.

Ha!
You owe Ronnie a slab for doubting.

Why would Mischa say
she was pregnant when she wasn't?

That makes no sense.

Thanks for that helpful
contribution.

What's your problem?
You've been in a mood all week.

For God's sake!

I'm sorry.

Go on.

We should be talking to
Mischa's mate

about a possible pregnancy scam.

Well, you do that

and I'll go and talk to
the Fleetwood kids.

Didn't even know Dad was seeing
someone till you guys showed up.

Bit quick, wasn't it? Your mum
only died, what, six months ago?

Dad nursed Mum for a year
before she went.

I'm just glad
he was finally having some fun.

Sure, but did he have to pick a girl
young enough to be his daughter?

Cute too.

More your type than his,
you'd imagine.

I don't have a type.

Is that it?

It's, it's my fault.

Mish was joking, about
ways to get rid of the scary guy,

and, er... and I said maybe
she should pretend she's pregnant.

Sure-fire way to make a guy run.

It's a pretty good way
to get money out of a guy too -

blackmail the potential father.

Nah. No, Mish wouldn't do that.

She wouldn't mess with people
for money.

She was scared. She just wanted
to get this guy out of her face.

She was an escort.

I don't think you can call it
a relationship.

What about your brother?
Think he knew?

Mal? No. He wouldn't know
if his bum was on fire.

You really think
your father didn't know?

I think Dad has a soft heart.

Mum was his anchor.

I've had my hands full with the shop
and Mal's pretty much useless.

If this girl set her sights on Dad,
thought he had money or something,

he wouldn't have stood a chance.

Mish was a good person.

She was trying to
turn her life around, you know?

No more nightclubs,
no more drink, no more drugs.

So she was a user?
God. Nothing too bad.

I mean, a few pills, a little mull.
She was giving them up.

Who was her dealer?
I don't know.

But a few times
when we'd go clubbing,

she'd say she was popping next door,

and two minutes
she'd be back with a stash.

Darren Jacobs!

It's the police! Open up.

Darren Jacobs!

Darren!

Dazza!

Bedroom's clear.
He's not here.

There's no sign of a stash either.
Think he's done a runner?

Looks like it.
That is interesting.

Whoa! Biggest bucket bong ever.

But look who Darren's mates with -

Malcolm Fleetwood,
the kid from the newsagency.

Why'd you lie, Malcolm?

We showed you a photo of Darren
Jacobs. You said you didn't know him.

Well, I don't. Well... not really.

Come on.
Or do you expect us to believe that?

There's a picture of you
smoking a bong with him.

I bought dope off him a few times.
Alright?

That it?

Sometimes we hang out...

..and get wasted.

Look, ever since Mum died...

Some days I just wanna
get out of it.

Anyway, Darren thought
that it might be a good idea

if my dad had a root.

He said this escort
lived in his building,

so I could pay her
to crack onto Dad.

"Daddy's depressed
so let's buy him some sex."

No, it wasn't like that, alright?

As soon as he started seeing her,
he was... he was happy again.

You know? He could cope.
Stopped crying over the washing-up.

So your father never knew
that you were paying Mischa?

Mal? What's this?

I'm afraid we have to take Malcolm in
for questioning, Mr Fleetwood.

Malcolm?
What's going on?

Nothing, Dad. It's nothing bad.

I didn't kill her.
What DID you do to her?

Nothing.
What did you do?!

Stop it! Let him go!

It's OK, Dad.

It'll be OK.

Nick, looks like
Malcolm Fleetwood lied

about not knowing Darren Jacobs.

The guys are bringing him in.
Good.

Are you alright?
I want you in on this interview.

Allie and Rhys did the dog work.
They should take the interview.

Nick, you're a lead on this case

and I've got a stack of paperwork
from Jarvis to deal with.

I don't know
what's going on with you

but you need to get it together.

Sergeant.

Take a seat, Malcolm.

Nup. Other one.

Ready?
No. Message from the sarge.

Apparently you and Nick
are taking this one.

But the good news is
my tickets came through.

What tickets?
I'm gonna see a band tonight.

You wanna come?
I'm not having a late one.

I've gotta be up at 5:00.

You'll be up at 5:00. No worries.

Tara Fleetwood's
making a fuss at reception.

Right. I'll take that.
Let's get this over with.

Do you have an alibi
for Monday night, Malcolm?

I don't think so.

Where were you?
Down at the pier, having a smoke.

Anyone with you?

Nah. I go there to be alone.
That's too bad.

So you had access to the bat, you
set your father up with the escort,

you don't have an alibi.

What's more,
you work at the local newsagency,

which is how you knew
the house was empty.

It's the perfect place
to dump a body.

I didn't kill her.

I don't even remember what she
looks like, except that she was hot.

I only saw her once
and I was pretty stoned.

Well, your dad met her
dozens of times.

How'd you pay for her?
Set up the dates?

It was all through Darren.

I used the money that Mum left me.

I... I'd give the money to him
and... and he'd give it to her.

This isn't looking good for you,
Malcolm.

All the people that can verify
your version of events

are either missing or dead.

What?

Mischa's been murdered
and Darren's done a runner.

Bastard.

No, wait. I told Tara.
She can back me up.

What exactly did you tell her?

As soon as I started getting worried

that Dad might find out
that she was a prossie,

I told Tara everything -

how I'd pay Darren
and he'd pay the girl.

She said I'm an idiot
and... she's right.

What happens to me?

Charge him?
Nup. Circumstantial.

We need to speak with
Tara Fleetwood first.

She still downstairs?
No. I sent her home.

Told her we'd be holding Malcolm
for a while.

Great.
Tara knew about Darren and Mischa.

Malcolm told her.
Freeman.

She's our killer. Family fixer.
We need her back here.

Darren.
-Hey, um... can we talk?

I've got some information.

Can we... like,
cut a deal or something?

Why don't you come to
police headquarters?

Yeah, I can't. I can't.

Tell us where you are
and we'll come to you.

Darren!
Darren?

Darren!

Darren, need you to take your hands
out of your pockets, mate.

Just hold 'em up
where we can see 'em.

Come on. Everything's gonna be OK.
Take your hands out of your pockets.

Take your hands
out of your pockets, please.

Get an ambulance.

Darren, you need to
keep pressure on the wound.

Keep pressure on the wound!

There she is. Righto.

Tara. Tara Fleetwood.

What do you want?
We need to talk.

It's over, Tara.
We found Darren Jacobs.

I never heard of him.
He wasn't dead, Tara.

He was still alive.
He told us everything.

Hey!

Come here!
Let go!

NO! Let me go! Please!

Tara Fleetwood, you're under arrest
for the murder of Mischa...

What the hell's going on?!
Back off!

I'm guessing the blood
belongs to Darren Jacobs.

Pretty stupid
to put them in your bin,

but I guess
you weren't thinking straight.

Stabbing a person can shake you up.
He's currently in intensive care.

You weren't so thorough
this time, Tara.

We've got his version of events.

Now we'd like to hear yours.

What did you do when Malcolm told you

that he was paying a prostitute
to date your dad?

I went to his mate Darren
and told him to call her off.

But he didn't.

Claimed he tried to, but she
reckoned she was in love with Dad.

You didn't believe that.
Love?!

What a joke! She was a gold-digger!

So you killed Mischa
to protect your dad's money.

It's the family's money!

It's always me
who has to sort things out.

Dad and Mal went to pieces
when Mum got sick,

but I'm the one
who's kept the shop going.

But I didn't kill her.
Really?

I paid Darren five grand.

It was my inheritance from Mum.

Look, he was just
supposed to scare her.

Take her to the house and give her
a taste of what she'd get

if she kept on with Dad, OK?

It's not my fault he went overboard.

Darren and Mischa were mates.
Why would he go overboard?

I don't know. Well, she probably
had a go at him! She was feral!

God knows how her kid
would've turned out.

What kid?

She and Dad were starting a family.

I don't think so.
She was pregnant.

Tara, the autopsy showed no foetus.

Mischa was not pregnant.
She was!

She lied.

We know you were at that house.

You watched while Darren
threatened her with the bat.

We weren't gonna kill her.

I just needed to hear her say
that she would leave Dad alone!

Say it.

SAY it!

Say it, you bitch.
Please!

Please don't kill me!

I'm having... I'm having a baby.

You SLUT!

I couldn't believe it.

It wasn't bad enough
Dad was shagging her.

Now she was having his baby.

She said that in the hope
that it would save her life.

Instead, it made you kill her.
I only did it to protect my father.

I mean, he was still
grieving for Mum,

and she preyed on him.

How could I know
you'd think Dad killed her?

You led us to him, Tara,

by shoving that receipt
down her throat.

I hope she choked.

I haven't danced that much in ages.

It was fun.

You sound surprised.
I am.

You're a goof.

Yeah, I'm a goof.
I'm a goof who can dance.

You, on the other hand...
For an athlete, you're pretty unco.

Shut up!
Assault police.

OK. This is me.

There's probably not much point

in trying to get some sleep
before work, though.

Well, I did say
you'd be up to meet the sun.

I'm going to...

You want me to submit this?
It's honest.

"A difficult transition
compounded by returning to old squad.

"Struggling with
leadership challenges. Reservations."

How do you think this reflects
on Stanley and me if I put this in?

That's my assessment.

You closed a tough case this week -
the dead prostitute.

Don't patronise me, sir.
I know you agree.

Your funeral, Sergeant.