All language subtitles for The Doctor Blake Mysteries - 04x01 - The Open Road.PDTV.English.HI.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

MAN: Pull over! Pull over!

MAN 2: What are you doing?
I got this, mate.

Oh, bloody hell, Bomber, not now!
We gotta go!

(Chuckles)
Let's go. Come on!

Go, go, go, go! Go!

(Engine groans and sputters)

Not now!

Don't!

Goddammit!

ANNOUNCER: And it looks like
Miss Beryl Routledge

will win this stage of the RA Trial.

Second will be Clive Hildebrand,

with Trevor McKenzie
a distant third.

(Applause)

MAN: Congratulations,
Miss Routledge.

Thank you very much, Mr Jones!
Hello, Ballarat!

(Engine sputters)

(Bang!)
Ooh!

This'll be interesting.

You're making it hard for me, Trev.

Oh, come on, Jonesy!

Mate, I can fix a lot of things,
but I can't fix this.

You've dropped in the rankings.

Below who?

And what are you grinning at?

I keep telling you, Trev,
it's your fuel intake, mate.

And how the hell would you know that?

You been fiddling with it, have you?

That'd be right.
This whole bloody thing is rigged!

(Sighs)
You alright, Errol?

Yeah.
What was all that about?

It's nothing.

Errol.

Errol!

WOMAN: Clive Hildebrand?

(Clicks camera)
You're still the best.

MAN: You have a name for your car?

A name for the car? Well, no.

But perhaps you'd like to name her.
(Chuckles)

MAN 2: Just here if I could,
Miss Routledge.

Certainly.
Thank you. Beautiful.

MAN 3: Do you think
you can win the next leg?

I certainly think so.

MAN: Watch out!
Mr McKenzie!

MAN: Come on, McKenzie!
My apologies, gentlemen.

(Engine starts)

(Screaming)

Bloody hell.

♪ Theme music

Hello?

Anyone...
(Phone rings)

Jean?

Ned, I do beg your pardon.
What can I do for you?

Good to see you, Bill.
Doc! You're back.

I am. Through here, is it?

There.

Matthew.
Well, welcome back.

How are you?
Fine.

What have we got?

Errol Moore, mechanic and navigator
for Clive Hildebrand.

Arrived in town yesterday
with the Red Trial.

I'm sorry,
I don't follow motor racing.

Is this their vehicle?

No, it's the rival's.

Not very sporting.

The boy was dragged
under McKenzie's car.

Well, I can tell you,
he was dead before that.

These abrasions here
were received post-mortem,

and... and here...

Petechiae. Caused by asphyxiation.

So, someone strangled him
and put his body here?

More likely,

a jack slipped while he was working
under the car.

And, by the way, petechiae -

yes, an indicator of asphyxiation,
not always strangulation.

I'll keep that in mind.

A quiet sort,

and a talented mechanic, apparently.

The boy's driver, Clive Hildebrand,
came second in yesterday's stage.

Right.

Question is, what was the lad doing
underneath someone else's car?

BILL: Sir, you're to remain outside.
You're to remain outside!

Let him through, Senior Sergeant!
Where is he?

Oh!
Mr Hildebrand, I'm sorry.

JONES: Thank you all for coming.

It's my sad duty to announce
the accidental death of Errol Moore.

Clive Hildebrand,
Mr Moore's driver,

and our very own Ballarat legend,

joins me in offering our condolences
to Mr Moore's family.

In honour of Errol Moore,

the final leg
of the Red Australia Trial

will be delayed until tomorrow.

And we'd like to thank
the town of Ballarat

and the Ballarat Courier
for their hospitality.

But before I go, can I just assure
the motoring public of Australia

that the Red Trial will go on.

Any questions?
WOMAN: Yes, is the...

He's a bit quick
to jump to that conclusion.

...the funeral of Errol Moore?
Yes.

What?
Any other questions?

Nothing, nothing. Now, who was there
when the body was found?

Trev came hurtling out.

He knew we were all standing there
and he drove his car straight at us.

When did he realise
that there was a body under the car?

It was hard to tell.

Are you in the market, Doctor?

No, no, not really.

It's impressive, though.
What model is it?

Vanguard Phase II.
You haven't been following the race?

Ah...

You said that Trevor McKenzie
drove his car at you. Why?

Because he's a bloody fool,
would be my guess.

He dropped in the rankings
yesterday.

Had a go at Errol
straight after the race.

WOMAN: Miss Routledge!
You're amazing!

You should see my navigator!

But, then again,
Trev fights with everyone.

And when was the last time
that you saw Errol Moore?

When Trev was yelling at him.

Did you like Errol, Miss Routledge?

I'd never even spoken to him.

But he seemed like a lovely kid.
Helluva mechanic.

Clive was lucky. Always has been.

How's that, exactly?
Well, Clive's a local hero, Doctor.

He won the first Red Trial.
I thought he'd retired.

So did we.

Thank you, Miss Routledge.
Good luck.

Thank you.
Miss Routledge.

Are you honestly telling me
that you have no idea who she was,

or who Clive Hildebrand is?

Should I?

The Red Australia race
is the most famous motor rally

in the country, Blake.

Everyone's watching it.
(Scoffs)

By the way, my niece
is coming into town for a while.

Oh, lovely.
Look forward to meeting her.

How was Adelaide?

Churchy.

ALICE: Traumatic asphyxiation.

Compression of the chest,
broken ribs, almost certainly.

Death would have taken...

A minute, maybe two.

Post-mortem soft tissue
and skeletal damage.

Are you alright?

Why do you ask?
You don't seem yourself.

You've barely said a word,
to me or him.

I'm sure I'm just tired from my trip.

Compression line,
probably from the chassis.

From that shape,
I'd say it was a Holden.

Or...

...a Phase I Vanguard.

Well-spotted.
It was, in fact, a Vanguard.

So, the jack slips,
chassis comes down.

And here he is.

Here he is, indeed.

Left hand...

...grease under the fingernails.

Hardly surprising.

Dragging injuries to the thighs,
the back, the face.

Right hand...

Goodness me.

Two dislocated fingers.

Alice, look here.

Swelling on the joints.

Sustained before he died.

Straightforward dislocation,
really. Easily realigned.

Still, there's something
not quite right here.

Hang on a minute. Hang on.

Why aren't his ribs broken?

I thought you said the jack slipped.
It was a theory.

But there's
no bruising or lacerations

to the rest of the chest.

No bones broken.

Alice, the car
couldn't have fallen on him.

Paperweight?

If it is,
it's a very ostentatious one.

It's also fully wound down.
I'm telling you, it didn't slip.

You should dust it for prints.
What about the autopsy?

Ah, two fingers dislocated
pre-mortem, and no broken ribs.

Well, think about it.

A jack slips, car comes down on you -

by God, it's going to
break your ribs.

So they lowered the jack down
on him while he was under the car.

But before he suffocated,
he managed to grab them.

What about his fingers?

Now, what do we know
about the owner of the car?

Errol used to be my mechanic,

and then he left,
to join the great Clive Hildebrand.

So, he leaves you for Hildebrand,
they win last year's race,

and the next thing,
he's found dead underneath your car.

And what was he doing
underneath there?

Was he sabotaging you?

Well, he certainly wasn't fixing it,
was he?

Things have been stuffing up lately.

And here I was, thinking
it was just Bomber being slack.

And you never forgave Errol Moore
for leaving your team.

Is that why you had a shouting match
with him after the race?

Bomber told you that, did he?

Then maybe you should ask Bomber
what he was doing.

Why don't you tell me
what you were doing last night?

We were working on the car, together!

Bomber gave me the irrits, so I left.

Next time I see the car,
Errol's wedged underneath it.

You ask him about that.

Trevor tell you that, did he?

Well, did he also tell you

that he was gonna have me bumped
to get Errol on the team?

That would've made you
pretty angry, wouldn't it?

Well, did he tell ya

that Errol turned him down?

Mr McKenzie reckons that Errol Moore
might've tampered with your car.

What are your thoughts about that?
No idea.

Is it likely?

Mr Denman...

...how did you get on
with the deceased?

Yeah, fine.

Everyone loved Errol, didn't they?

So, the driver and his mechanic
are at each other's throats.

Well?

Oh, they both deserve each other.

Got nothing on either of them yet.

Matthew, this race...

Needs to be suspended
for the duration of this inquiry.

And I'm not looking forward
to making that call.

Senior Sergeant?

I need you to speak
to the rest of the competitors.

Take Davis with you.

Ask them if they saw McKenzie
or Denman last night between...

Ah, I'd estimate time of death
was between 12 and 5am.

So, you heading home now?

I thought I might check up
on Clive Hildebrand,

perhaps ask a few more questions.

Maybe you could apologise
for not knowing who he was.

(Car engine revs, dies)

(Engine starts, dies)

Oh, come on, you old bugger.

(Engine sputters)

Enjoying this, are you, Dad?

(Engine starts, revs)

Thank you.

CLIVE: I don't want it.

Listen to me, Clive.
It's easy money.

I've already set everything up.

How many times do I have
to tell you, Herb? I'm an amateur.

And I'm telling you, Clive,
you don't have to be.

Just say yes.

Mr Hildebrand!
Afternoon, Doctor.

You know much about cars?
Very little, I'm afraid.

Errol knew everything about them.

'He was born in a garage',
his old man used to say.

I understand he used to navigate
for Mr McKenzie.

What made him join you?
Oh, I never knew.

I just thanked my lucky stars
I had him.

Mr Hildebrand, tell me...

...what do you think
he was doing under that car?

Well, somebody was messing
with the cars.

Ours, Beryl's.

I reckon Errol was figuring out
who it was.

Right.

You don't think perhaps...

...he was responsible
for the sabotage?

Not likely.
He wasn't that sort of bloke.

Personally, I reckon you should
take a look at Herb Jones.

Jones, the chap
you were just talking to?

He runs the race, doesn't he?
Yeah, just an official.

Doubt if he'd know a lug nut
from a walnut.

But there's no telling who he's got
in his pocket working against me.

That sounds personal.

Yeah, well, Herb reckons

there's no room for the likes of me
in the competition anymore.

Days of the amateur are over.

Ah.
Mr Hildebrand?

Rose Anderson, Ballarat Courier.
Miss Anderson...

You're on the record as saying
that the Red Australia Trials

have become
increasingly commercialised.

As the winner
of the very first race,

do you think there's still room
in the competition

for non-professionals?
No comment.

Mr Hildebrand, just a little, um...

I'd let him go...

...Miss Anderson.

Well done, you've learned my name.

I'm Dr...
Lucien Blake, the police surgeon.

I know who you are.

What are the police doing,
talking to Clive Hildebrand?

Passing on our condolences.
What's the Courier doing?

Our job.
So, Patrick hired you?

He did.
We're not talking about me, are we?

Do the police suspect foul play?

That would be a question for them.
Good afternoon, Miss Anderson.

Dr Blake, you know
Mr Hildebrand isn't the only one

with concerns about Herb Jones?

Really? And where did you hear this?

I couldn't possibly
reveal my sources.

But you know what they say, Doctor -

you scratch my back...

JONES: The race is a huge business
proposition, Superintendent.

MATTHEW:
I am aware of that, Mr Jones.

PATRICK: Are further delays
really necessary?

My paper has exclusives
with the drivers...

This is a police investigation,
Patrick,

and we need time to conduct it.

Don't worry, Patrick -
I assured the people of Australia

that the final leg
would take place tomorrow, so...

Just like you told Clive Hildebrand

there was no longer
any room for amateurs.

Blake.
Oh, here we go.

By the way, you need to reign in
your journalists, Patrick.

One of them's
been harassing Hildebrand.

Good! That's what we pay them for.

Look, I'm aware your investigation
takes priority,

but there are other considerations.

Such as?

Such as a considerable boost to the
local economy, the city's profile.

Yes, Patrick, I understand.
Thank you.

It would be churlish to mention
that little favour of mine,

so I won't.

We'll leave you to it.

Mr Jones.

Some of the drivers believe

your 'business interests' might be
unduly influencing the race.

Any truth in that?
No...

And you're accusing my reporters
of harassment?

Just when I was about ready
to tolerate you.

He makes a fair point.

What was that about a favour?

Might get another cup of tea.

It's fair to say there's
a certain amount of enthusiasm

for us to get a result,
so, where are we?

Bad blood
between McKenzie and Moore.

Bad blood
between McKenzie and Denman.

(Sighs) Did anyone
see either of them

after they finished working
on the car?

No, people were drinking.
Memories are hazy.

Trevor McKenzie's a hair-trigger
idiot at the best of times,

and the body was under his car
when he was driving.

Either he's brilliantly clever
and he's pulling a double bluff,

or...

Doc, any theories?

Er... or someone's framed him.

Right, you hold the fort here.

I'll take Davis
back to the showgrounds.

We'll have another look
through the garage.

What's wrong with you?

Nothing, Matthew.

I'm perfectly fine.

Really.

(Sighs)

Do you ever wonder, Matthew,

what it is that drives us
to do what we do?

Go home, get some rest.

You'll feel like
a new man tomorrow, trust me.

Lucien!
Mattie!

You're home.
Yes, I arrived back this morning.

Well, how's Jean?
Jean's well.

What do you mean, she's well?

I mean, to all intents and purposes,
she's in very good health.

So Jean is quite well

and I'm just going to have to accept
that as a reasonable explanation

as to why you've been gone
for over a week.

Exactly.

Should we at least have a drink,
to celebrate you being home?

Are you going to continue
to bombard me with questions?

Well, I think I know
when I'm not going to get an answer.

In that case, that would be lovely.
Thank you very much.

You met Beryl Routledge?!

I wouldn't have picked you
for a car enthusiast, Mattie.

Well, I'm not, usually.

But this is ordinary people
driving ordinary cars,

and they're racing right around
the country - isn't that something?

REPORTER: The deceased
is Errol Moore, age 20...

So, the boy...
Errol Moore.

He was only 20?
Yes.

...Ballarat stage of the rally
at Western Victoria.

Ah, now, that's Clive Hildebrand.

...Clive Hildebrand, whilst found
dead beneath the chassis of...

Mm, and there's your Miss Routledge.

She's amazing.
Eh, perhaps.

...to postpone the continuation
of the race temporarily...

And there she is,
chatting with young Errol.

She told me
she hadn't spoken with him.

Now, why would she lie?

(Clanging)

I'll go. You keep an eye out here.

Righto.

(Door slams)

Oi!

Open up!

(Crashing)

You alright, boss?
Did you see anyone?

No. What happened?
(Engine revs, tyres screech)

Charlie!
(Yells)

(Groans)
Boss!

(Groans)

Boss!

(Screams)
Keep still. Keep still.

(Screams)

Help!

(Screams)

Help!

(Siren blares)

(Groans)

Dr Blake.
Hugh Masterson, Orthopaedics.

Where's Nicolson?
He's not answering his phone.

Right.

Cuts and abrasions,
possible internals,

broken right femur,
severe laceration above the knee.

It's OK. It's OK.

(Groans)
Almost there.

Damage to the femoral artery.
Lucky Charlie put a tourniquet on.

The break appears
to be compressing the artery,

cutting off circulation
to the lower limb.

We need to deal with the artery now.

What is it?
I'm Orthopaedics.

You need a vascular surgeon
for that.

We don't have a vascular surgeon,
Hugh. Please.

It's alright, Matthew. It's alright.

Pulse?
(Groans)

How long since the accident?
Um, half an hour or so.

We amputate.

Over 30 minutes, no circulation -
the wound will be septic.

No, no, no, no, no. We reset,
put him under, fix the artery.

We're not prepped.
We don't have a choice.

I've seen breaks like this before.
And I haven't.

Matthew, can you hear me? This is
going to hurt like hell, alright?

Assist Mattie.
I need you to hold him down.

Now, the idea is to get the bone
back into place, yes?

So, on my three, I'm going
to pull the leg back, and lower.

One...

...two, three.

(Screams)
No, not quite.

Doctor!
Matthew, I'm sorry.

We're going to have to go again.

Alright? One, two...

...three.

(Screams)

Yes, that's it. Well done.

Anything?

Just wait. Wait, please.

Lucien.

I told you we should have amputated.

We've got a pulse.
You're sure?

Yes. Yes.

It's weak, but we've got a pulse.
Well done, you two.

Now, we need anaesthetic.

We get traction on this thing.
You still need to operate.

Would you supervise
the vascular procedure, Doctor?

Of course I will.

Jones. It was Jones!

Alright, alright.
Matthew, calm down for me.

Calm down for me.

Well done.

Lucien?

I'm fine, Mattie.
Would you do something for me?

Check on Charlie.
Yes.

Hey, well done.

Ah, Alice. Come on in.

I got the toxicology back
for the man under the car.

There's nothing unusual
in the bloodstream.

What?

Errol Moore's toxicology results.

They're completely clean.
No drugs, no alcohol.

How are you, Chief Superintendent?

Terrible.

I'll leave you to the doctor, then.

Thank you, Alice.

How's Charlie?

Ah, our Charlie.

Well, he's got three broken ribs,
so I've sent him home.

Herbert Jones has been brought in
for questioning.

We need to send someone back
to the garage to have a look around.

Well, I'll pass that on,

but in the meantime,
you need to get some rest, eh?

Both legs are present, I see.

(Chuckles)

Yes.

But...

...you've sustained
a lot of damage, Matthew.

Still.

Thank you, Lucien.

Yesterday, when you saw

Superintendent Lawson and
Sergeant Davis at the showground,

why did you run?

I didn't run.

My apologies.

The Chief Superintendent
sends his regards.

Mr Jones maintains
he'd left the showgrounds

before we were run down.

Ah.
He also maintains that...

I didn't run anyone down,

and I had nothing to do
with Errol Moore.

So why did you run away?

Our records indicate
you own a two-tone Vanguard,

registration HHE-585.

Where is it?
Parked outside the showgrounds.

It's been there for days.

I'll suspend the interview for now.

If my men find any mark on that car,

anything at all that suggests

it was the one that ran us down
at the showgrounds,

I will escort the doctor
out of this room

and leave you in here
with the Senior Sergeant.

Alone.

Last chance.

Charlie, I fancy a cuppa. Bill?

White with three, thanks, Doc.
Good.

I might join you, Blake.
Excellent.

Alright.

Alright. Yes, I was driving the car.
I'm sorry, alright?

I didn't mean to run anyone down.
It was just an accident.

Then what were you doing there?
Why did you run from us?

I take money from manufacturers

to boost their vehicles up
in the rankings.

And when that doesn't work,

you tamper with the cars
from time to time.

You saw two policemen there,
and you panicked...

I didn't see anyone! I thought
it was one of the other drivers.

And if they'd found me
they would have killed me.

Is that what happened
with young Errol?

No. I tried to pay the kid off
to help me weeks ago.

And he turned you down.

The only one who'd go along with it
was Bomber.

Bomber Denman.

And, Bill, we've got enough
to charge him with the hit-and-run?

You bet your arse we do.
Good.

Now, someone needs
to speak with Denman.

I can do that.
I'm coming with you, Doc.

Charlie, if you're not going home,
you should stay here.

Miss Anderson, what brings you here?

Police rounds, what do you think?
Excellent.

Sergeant Davis,
someone you should speak with.

Cup of tea, Miss?
Black, no sugar.

Er, suspected burglary
and two cases of public drunkenness.

Also, Market Street
will be closed to traffic tomorrow,

and that's about it.

And the investigation
into Errol Moore's death?

I'm unable to comment about that
right now.

Shame.

I heard there was an incident
at the showgrounds last night.

That's subject
to further investigation.

So the police are investigating?

We're pursuing
a number of avenues of inquiry.

And you heard this from...?
Are you sure

that you're not able to tell me?

Pretty sure, yep.

Do you think
that I might be able to speak

with Chief Superintendent Lawson,
then?

He's unavailable at the moment.

Would you tell him that I was here,
when he is available?

Of course.

It's been a pleasure.

Miss Anderson?

(Winces)

The number at the desk,

so I can keep you posted
on what's happening here,

when it's appropriate.

And why would you do that?

Because I was once new in town too.

Sergeant Davis.

Miss Anderson.

(Engine revs)

ANNOUNCER: Scott Wilson Brown
to the refreshment tent, please?

That's Scott Wilson Brown
to the refreshment tent.

Mr Denman?

Herbert Jones sends his regards.

A number of people believe
their cars have been sabotaged

throughout this race.

They're paranoid.
Is that right?

When questioned, Mr Jones admitted

that it was, in fact, the two of you
tampering with the cars.

He even suggested

that you might be the one
who killed young Errol.

Well...

...he's a liar.

So why don't you go piss off?
You got nothing.

I gather you like dynamite.
Hey...

I never have.

The impact it has on the human body,

the damage it wreaks
on flesh and bone -

it's horrible.

Now, you listen to me.

I don't have the patience today
for your games.

A very good friend of mine
nearly died yesterday,

so you will tell me
what I want to know.

What? If you think I had anything...
You were sabotaging cars.

Perhaps Clive and Errol's, yes?

Errol discovered the truth,

so you murdered him
before anyone else could find out.

Is that what happened?

Come on, last chance.

Go on, why don't ya? Go on.
You don't have the balls.

Time's ticking.
Tell me what happened.

Alright, look, alright, I...
I didn't touch their car,

just that bitch Routledge
and a few others.

I didn't do a thing to Errol!
Did you kill him?

No.
You're absolutely sure?

I didn't do it, you crazy bastard!

Alright.

You're insane.

Yes, perhaps I am.
I've been called worse.

Now, here's what's going
to happen next... Bomber.

You're going to go to the police.

You're going to tell them
exactly what you just told me.

Yes?

Yeah, fine, alright, I'll go.

Best stop this nonsense as well.
Your dynamite days are over.

Good afternoon, Mr Denman.

(Engine sputters)

Bloody hell.

(Engine sputters)

Standards. They have their quirks.

Quirks, indeed.

It has been the source
of some frustration

over the years, I can tell you.

You're not thinking of selling,
are you, Doctor?

Well, let's see what she's got.

(Engine starts)
Ah...

Well, the brakes are in good nick.
That's something.

Yes.

You lied to me, Miss Routledge.

Excuse me?

When you were first interviewed
yesterday,

you lied about having
never spoken with Errol Moore.

I must have forgotten.

You know what us women are like.

Now, if you're in the market
for a new car...

Is there a Mrs Blake?

What kind of motor would she
want the good doctor to have?

Did you try this on with young Errol,
Miss Routledge?

Is that why
you didn't want us to know?

Yes, I spoke to Errol.

It's no secret,
he's the best mechanic on the tour.

I wanted him on my team.
Your team?

Didn't you want to show the world

that your team,
comprised solely of women,

how they could beat the men?

I'm a pretty woman driving a car,
Doctor.

The public finds that fascinating.

But I've had enough
of women's magazine covers.

Now I want headlines for being
the winner of the next Red Trial.

Quite.

How did Errol respond to your offer?

He said no, stupid boy.

Did he say why?

Because next year,
he wanted to become a driver.

Enter the Red Australia himself.

I see. And you...

Wished him luck,

and told him I would wave to him
from the top of the podium

in 12 months' time.

Of course.

To your knowledge, did he
tell anyone about his ambitions?

Well, I assume so. He already
had a car lined up and everything.

No sponsor, though.

Oh, no, he was going amateur
all the way,

just like his bloody idol, Clive.

You don't approve.

Errol and Clive take the whole
noble amateur thing

far too seriously.

It's not a mistake I intend to make.

I'm in this for the fame,
and the money, of course.

Now, I think
something simple for you.

Nothing too fast or ostentatious.

Anyway, shall we?

Mattie rang me.
Yes, he's...

Is Matthew...?
..alright.

It's going to be difficult.
Er, Doctor.

Dr Masterson.

I've been looking
at the Superintendent's X-rays.

Oh, honestly, I'm fine.

Anyone would think
I'm some bloody invalid.

I spoke to Hobart earlier.

(Winces)

He said that Jones has confessed
to running us down.

Yes, but not to killing young Errol.

Now, I spoke to Mr Denman and...

...er, Beryl Routledge.

Beryl Routledge?
You didn't tell me that!

Oh, he has no idea who she was.

Ah, typical.

Do you think she's involved?
I don't know.

How is the leg?

Oh, well, still there. (Chuckles)

Do you think he knows?

Well, I'm not certain he's aware...

Doctor!

Mrs Beazley.
Hello.

I thought you should see these.

Most of the skin on Moore's back
was scraped away post-mortem,

but these are from a patch of skin
remaining on his shoulder.

I think it's the imprint
of the ground beneath the body.

Paving of some kind.

Well done, Alice.

(Door opens)

(Gasps) Jean!

Oh, Mattie, it's lovely to see you.

You too!

It has been so quiet
while you were gone.

I had to go to Melbourne
for conversation.

Excuse me, you two.
I just need to fetch my torch.

Where are you going?
Back to the showgrounds.

I'm coming too.

Wait, I wanted to find out
about Adelaide.

I'll tell you about it later.

I do love what you're doing
with your hair.

I didn't know
she'd been going down to Melbourne.

Yes, spending more time
with the family, apparently.

Right.
This is...?

Er, Trevor McKenzie's car.

Have you wedged something
under the tyres?

Just asking!
Of course I have.

Thank you.

(Grunts) Now...

What are you looking for now?

Oh, I don't know.

I've never really
looked beneath the car before.

Just this one?

Alright, any car.

So...

...tell me.

Our young Errol was found under here.
But this isn't his car.

The car was lowered
directly onto his chest.

It left a corresponding
compression mark.

You know that different cars
have differently shaped chassis?

Well, yes, of course I do.

But some are similar.

Well, for example,
the Vanguard and the...

The Holden.
So, who drives one of those?

I have a pretty good idea.

What about the impression that
the ground left on the man's skin?

Not from here.

He died somewhere else, Jean.

I need you to find a phone box
and call Bill Hobart for me.

You know, I wasn't lying when I said
I didn't know much about cars.

But I do know medicine.

CLIVE: You know what it's like
to be a hero, Doctor?

To be an ordinary man with
ordinary people looking up to you?

Yes, look, the pressure -
I can only imagine.

Of course, with Herbert
and his business associates

snapping at your heels,
it must be very stressful.

But look, it was Jones and Denman
sabotaging your car.

Young Errol
had nothing to do with it.

Please, he looked up to you.
He worshipped you!

Errol told me
he wanted to drive next year.

When I found him working
under the car that night, I...

So you thought the worst

and you killed him,
didn't you, Mr Hildebrand?

Please!

Lucien!
(Sirens blare)

That young man had done
nothing wrong, not a damn thing.

You murdered him, you moved the body,

put it under McKenzie's car,
and for what?

He betrayed me.

Betrayed you?

He didn't betray you.
You were his hero.

Clive Hildebrand, I'm arresting you
for the murder of Errol John Moore.

Matthew. Patrick.

Hobart told me. Well done.

Yes.

Yes, um...

Matthew, look, there's...

There's something...
I know, I know.

(Sighs)

My leg's never gonna heal properly.

I'll probably walk with a stick,
or something equally humiliating.

They'll pension me off.

Yes.

Unless I can find a doctor
who's willing to fudge my medical.

(Patrick chuckles)
Ah.

Ah, don't worry.
Not even you can sort this one out.

I'm sorry.

Boss.

Miss Anderson?
Sergeant Davis.

I take it you've met my niece.

What's that?
Ah, report on Errol Moore.

Just leave it on the desk.

These are the things
you asked for, Boss.

(Clears throat) Thank you.

Well...

...gentlemen...

...it's been an honour.

(Clears throat) Carry on.

Matthew.

So, have you remembered?

Why it is we do what we do?

Yes, I most certainly have.

Another time, eh?

A job for Rose at the Courier.

That was Patrick's favour.

Well?

Ten miles to the gallon. You don't
think that's a little wasteful?

What do other cars get?
You don't know?

(Chuckles)

Have you told anyone?
Who would I tell?

Patrick Tyneman?
Oh, Patrick...

Lucien, where's your car?

Finally traded it in.
This is my new one.

You do know the fuel consumption
isn't great?

(Chuckles)
So I've heard.

Fancy a spin?
Definitely.

Could I borrow it
next time I go to Melbourne?

Not a chance.

Right.

(Engine starts)

You wait till
you get out on the road.

It's an absolute beaut.

You have any family or friends
in Ballarat?

Not a soul. Not yet, anyway.

Well, there are worse places
for a fresh start.

We have to follow our hearts,
don't we?

You are a gem.