Original subtitles

Stop fussing.

Here she is.

"I was 12 when I realised I had been placed in hell

for some yet to be committed sins,

that beneath the green and brown land of this town lay

the foetid soil beneath, the stunted trees,

reflecting the God-forsaken souls of the creatures who live

here--

the women, bitter with baking and religion and motherhood;

the men, bleating about God and commerce

and dreaming about their hands in their mistress's stockings.

With the realisation came freedom.

I rode to the far edge of town, squatted beside a mullock heap,

and defecated a curse on this place

with all the sincerity of youth.

I curse this town--

Shh.

Shush, please.

--with words and grunts."

I know what you are, Patricia Neville,

you blood-sucking leech.

You'll get what you deserve, you bitch.

Oh, go home, you ridiculous--

I'll bloody make sure.

Please, just ignore him.

You'll get yours, Neville.

"I realised--"

Someone get him out of here.

And just, please, everybody just calm down.

I'll call the police.

--"even then--"

You think this is fun, cleaning up your mess?

Mm, you don't have anything else to do.

Besides, you'll miss it when I'm gone, dear sister.

You're too selfish to die.

You'll hang around my neck forever.

Ms. Neville.

Careful, careful.

Sir, put the gun down!

It's all right.

It's our neighbour, Max.

Uck, our valiant protector.

Some young louts were throwing rocks at the house.

I was just making sure no damage was done.

Well, you can't go around, pointing guns at people.

Of course, apologies.

Eve, is everything all right?

What happened?

Patricia got exactly the reaction she was hoping for,

didn't you?

Good morning.

Eve?

Eve?

Eve?

Say when.

Every time you talk back, I add five seconds.

Oh, I could arrest you any time, you know.

Yeah, keep talking, Matthew.

It's doing you good.

Relax.

Well done.

One more time, eh?

And put some effort into it.

I bloody well am.

Ah, there you are.

That's another five seconds.

Matthew, are you all right?

No.

Lucien, stop tormenting him.

And relax.

I suppose you're going to make him get that as well?

Oh, there's an idea.

Boss.

They were both on the couch.

Patricia was being held by her sister, Eve.

Yeah, just one moment, Father.

Yeah.

What do we have?

Gas leak, the priest found them.

One still breathing, an Even Neville,

she's been taken to hospital.

The other sister, Patricia Neville, not so lucky.

I was just with them yesterday.

Are the mains off?

Of course.

What happens when someone dies like this?

Well, the gas displaces the oxygen in the room

and, of course, in the victim's lungs.

And basically-- basically, they suffocate.

How long does that take?

It's not immediate, Charlie.

It-- it takes some time.

Do you think we could, um--

Yeah.

Ned.

Sergeant.

Oh, can we, um, get some windows open?

Nailed shut.

We've opened the back door.

Charlie.

This was deliberate.

Sorry, sir.

You can't come in here.

This is a police investigation.

I know Patricia Neville.

Tell me what is going on here.

Mr. Reed.

What's happened?

There appears to have been a gas leak.

Eve's been taken to the hospital,

but, well, I'm afraid Patricia has died.

I'm sorry.

Uh, I'm afraid I'm not quite ready.

I-- I've had a busy morning.

That's perfectly all right.

Can I help you?

You can prepare the instruments.

Right.

Suicide pact or murder?

That's the burning question, isn't it?

You say the other sister survived?

Yes, she's unconscious, but thankfully alive.

I have a sister.

Really?

Where is she?

I don't know.

She annoyed a lot of people yesterday.

The sister tried to settle things down.

Right, did that work?

Not especially.

I'm surprised, Alice.

I wouldn't have thought her writing was your cup of tea.

Her books make me laugh.

Really?

The truth is I read an excerpt in "The Courier" yesterday.

Coming back home after years away,

telling everyone what they're doing wrong,

guaranteed to make people resent you, trust me.

I have experience.

Yes, Lucien, you do.

Oh.

What is it?

Oh, dear, oh, dear, radical mastectomy.

Both breasts, performed recently, too.

And a significant amount of axillary tissue--

pectralis muscle, lymph nodes.

Goodness me, it's brutal.

But standard, for breast cancer.

You know, it's curious, Alice.

There are no typical indicators of asphyxiation here.

There's large patches of alopecia.

The cancer treatment?

I'd say so.

Sputum?

No, nothing, but here, look at this--

faint transverse lines across the nail beds.

Mee's lines?

She died before the gas was turned on.

Alice is working on identifying the poison.

Uh, Chief Superintendent.

I have an afternoon mass, and I should sit with Eve.

Uh, be with you soon, Father.

Thank you.

Now she was treated for cancer, breast cancer.

Unfortunately, it had spread throughout her body.

It was terminal.

Why would someone want to poison

a woman who was already dying?

Any possibility she poisoned herself?

No.

No, no, no, this was not--

this was not a one-off dose.

She was poisoned over a considerable period of time.

If she wanted to alleviate her own suffering,

that was not the way to do it.

Right, and what about the sister?

Can we get a statement from her?

I'm afraid she's still unconscious.

Charlie, I'd like you to have a run with the Neville case.

Yes, boss.

Thank you.

Every time you look at me with that expression on your face,

I get five seconds off my exercises.

Doc, if she was poisoned, then this

isn't likely to be a suicide pact.

Certainly makes it less likely, doesn't it?

Mm.

Having said that, we don't yet know what happened to Eve.

Now she could have found her sister dead

and decided to go with her.

I don't know.

Or perhaps she poisoned her, felt remorse when she finally

died, and followed suit.

They were fighting yesterday.

Physically?

No, insults, put downs, Eve told her sister

that she was too selfish to die and would hang around her neck

forever.

Goodness me.

Maybe Eve was tired of caring for Patricia.

She was obviously very sick.

And not just from the cancer.

Mm.

We need to check everything in that house, Charlie, see

if we can find out how the poison was administered.

Ah.

Rose, do you mind?

Is it true?

I'll go talk to Father Emery.

Hello, Rose.

Murder or suicide?

I thought the gas had been turned off?

We can't comment yet.

Maybe leave this one for a while, Rose.

It's-- it's delicate.

Patricia Neville is famous, Charlie.

Everyone is going to want to know what happened,

the-- the city newspapers, even international.

Yeah, I get it.

I get it.

Are you looking at the man who interrupted the book signing?

Uh, yes, of course, we are.

But right now, we're following up a little closer to home.

The sister?

Well, if the sister turned the gas on,

is she going to be charged with attempted suicide?

That's what the law says.

Did they take their own lives, Doctor?

I'm afraid I can't answer that just yet.

Tell me about Patricia.

Patricia was challenging.

What about Eve?

Eve has been dealt a very harsh hand in life.

Yes, of course, her sister's cancer.

And their mother died of the same disease.

Eve nursed her through the illness

while Patricia was overseas.

Then when Patricia returned, Eve nursed her, too.

Goodness me, she sounds like a most extraordinary woman.

Yes, I would have described her as devout.

You would have?

Doc.

Ms. Neville, I'm afraid it's my sad duty

to inform you that your sister has passed away.

I know.

The cause of death was poison.

No, she had cancer.

I'm afraid that's not what killed her.

Ms. Neville, I'm Dr. Lucien Blake.

I am truly sorry for your loss.

Are you able to tell us what happened?

The gas pipes in your home, they've been tampered with.

Do you know anything about that?

How would you describe your relationship with your sister?

If we--

It's over.

Leave me alone.

Amen.

Amen.

Charlie, all of that will need to be tested as well.

Looks like it hasn't been touched in decades.

Look, Bill.

Patricia was drinking the other night, a lot.

And her editor turned up here with what

was obviously a bottle, so we need to be thorough with this.

Yeah, well, I've checked the house from top to bottom.

Do you realise I've been called out to this place before,

domestics between the sisters and harassment from

an ex-employee?

Do we have a name?

Yeah, Karl Gorman, he'd make some noise,

and then he'd bugger off before we got here.

He's the one from the book signing.

I haven't been able to track him down.

Well, I can find his details when we're finished here.

He'll come round.

Fox bait, you reckon this is what we're looking for?

Ah, sodium fluoroacetate, could be, Bill.

Could be.

Don't have toxicology yet.

Doc?

Mm?

Look at this, jemmy marks.

Looks like someone tried to break in.

They've had a real go, by the looks.

Mm, but they didn't manage to get inside.

See the lock?

They bent it up, but they didn't break it.

Ah.

Perhaps that's why all the windows were nailed shut.

Yes.

Doc, what do you think this is?

Any idea when she will be allowed to see visitors?

I'm afraid not for a little while, mister, um--

Porter, Max Porter.

Mr. Porter, obviously, you're a friend of the Neville's.

Known them most of my life.

Ah, then this must have come as an awful shock.

Yes.

Mr. Porter, you said yesterday that you

had to chase people away.

Did you recognise any of them?

Kids, mostly, I--

I didn't get a good look.

Tell me.

Does the name Karl Gorman ring any bells?

He is a menace.

I've had to call the police a number of times.

But not just because of Mr. Gorman, is that right?

They would fight, Eve and Patricia.

Sometimes, it got very heated.

And when you say fight--

Did Eve ever get physically violent towards Patricia?

Sometimes, it was the other way around.

You've got to understand.

Patricia was unbelievably difficult,

especially when she was drunk.

And Eve?

Eve never touched the stuff, no.

Look, I'm sure it wasn't bad.

It was just loud.

I was worried for her.

The woman is a saint, but I suppose

even saints have their limits.

Complex relationships, Charlie.

Yes, it's peculiar.

Found those entries on Karl Gorman.

Ah, yes?

No charges recorded against him,

but several mentions over the last six months--

bloke with a grudge.

Mm.

Constable.

Karl Gorman, find him and bring him in, please.

Thanks, Bill.

What have you got?

Well, we have reports of Eve Neville being physically

violent with her sister.

And vice versa, it must be said.

Has she been formally interviewed?

No, she's not in a fit state just yet.

Once she's been given the all clear, I'll interview her.

Right, I'm heading back to the library.

Pick up the glass and bottle Patricia

used during the reading.

There's nothing wrong with sitting

over his shoulder, Davis.

Yes, boss.

Good morning.

Oh, Doctor.

Andrea, how is your mother's arthritis?

Ah, much better, thank you.

Excellent, good to hear.

This is Senior Sergeant Davis.

We met yesterday.

Um, I was wondering, would you by any chance have the bottle

and the glass Patricia was drinking from at the reading?

Oh, the glass would have been washed,

but the bottle is out the back.

I can get that for you.

Wonderful, thank you so much.

And would you mind terribly if I borrowed

this for the investigation?

You'll have to ask Mr. Reed.

He's come to collect them.

I don't think he'll mind.

I suspect they're not going to be very popular.

Quite the opposite, the bookshop

has sold out, apparently.

Is that right?

Yes, everyone loves you when you're dead.

Oh, sorry.

I shouldn't have said that.

Mr. Reed, may we have a moment?

Your relationship with Patricia, what was she like?

Patricia, she could be challenging.

Challenging how?

She was an artist.

You just had to accept that everything was about Patricia--

your time, your energy, the food on your plate.

As long as you accepted that, things were mostly fine.

She seemed to get under people's skin.

Did she get under yours?

Yeah, sometimes yes.

You laughed when you found out she was dead.

And then I went back to the hotel, and I wept.

Yes, grief can hit in unexpected ways.

I was her editor, and it was gruelling work.

But it was also a privilege.

Are you a writer yourself, Mr. Reed?

I had hopes, yes.

And what happened to those hopes?

I found a way to live with them.

By editing other people's work, tell me.

Did it bother you when others got all the attention?

Ah, Andrea, the bottle.

Uh, no, I didn't find it.

I'm not sure where it is.

Right, Mr. Reed, do you have any idea what might

have happened to that bottle?

Excuse me.

Sorry to interrupt.

There's a phone call for you, sir.

Oh, I meant the sergeant.

Just put it down.

It's Karl Gorman.

He's gone mad, chopping things up.

You ruined my life, you bastard!

Do something.

He's lost the plot.

Mr. Gorman, whatever is bothering you,

this is not the way to fix it.

This has got nothing to do with you.

For Christ's sake, stop him.

Mr. Gorman, I need you to put the chainsaw down,

and we can talk about this.

What about I put it through his head,

and then we talk about it?

Now get back.

Talk.

Mr. Gorman, I'm Dr. Lucien Blake.

Now I know you don't want things to get any worse.

Why don't you put that down?

We can have a good, old chat, yes?

Is this a trick?

No.

No, it's whiskey.

I kept you on as a favour to Mr. Neville,

and this is how you repay me?

All right?

He sacked me last week.

I put years into that place, and he sacked me.

And I'm guessing Mr. Neville certainly wouldn't

have treated you that way.

He was a good bloke, a really good bloke.

But then he sold the business.

No, the sisters did.

Mr. Neville said he'd make me a partner.

He said I was like the son he never had.

They just laughed at me.

You have quite a record of harassing the Nevilles.

Why am I here?

You're here, Karl, because you threatened

Mr. McKay with bodily harm.

Guilty then.

But why am I really here?

Have you been anywhere near the Neville house

in the last few weeks?

Any chance of that drink now?

Blake.

Did you kill Patricia Neville?

Doc.

I'm glad she's dead, but I didn't kill her.

What the hell were you doing?

What?

In there.

He asked for a drink.

I gave him one.

You gave him alcohol during an official interview.

If he's been drinking, you can hold him a little bit longer.

Never do that again while I'm in charge of an interview.

Charlie.

No, never, am I being clear enough for you?

Sometimes, it's worth thinking--

Uh, Sarge.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

Thallium?

Yes.

From the fox bait?

No, it's an ingredient of rat poison.

Which I suppose everyone has access to.

Do we know how it was administered?

Not yet, there's a lot still to be tested.

That explains the hair loss, not the cancer treatment,

after all.

Is that a symptom?

Yes, hair loss would have started soon

after the first exposure.

She would have had worsening

peripheral neuropathy.

Indeed.

Um, nerve irritations in the hands and feet, I've heard

it described as feeling as if your extremities are on fire,

but worse.

Mood swings, susceptibility to loud or sudden noises,

increasing shortness of breath.

Then cardiorespiratory arrest and death.

Oh, no wonder she was angry.

Uh, Doc, I followed up with the manager.

Gorman's the office dogsbody.

He does a bit of everything.

And?

They had a rat problem lately.

Gorman was in charge of the poisons.

Really?

Good thing I gave him that whiskey.

Don't you think?

Put some more leaves in the pot, Charlie?

So you're letting the doctor drive things?

Well, don't you?

Well, it depends if he's taking me where I need to go.

He doesn't mean to undermine you,

even though it seems that way.

Yeah.

He likes to think he's the smartest man in the room,

and God knows he is most of the time.

But you don't have to keep up.

You just have to manage him.

White and two, thanks.

No police escort?

No.

No, I'm here in a medical capacity.

How are you feeling?

I wish I was dead.

You?

Patricia was already gone when you, um,

tampered with the gas pipes.

You thought it was the cancer.

Of course, I did.

What else would I assume?

Doctors don't really tell you the grubby details.

Better we don't know the fate that awaits us.

You've had experience.

In that and everything else, it

wasn't so different to what my mother went through,

and what I will go through, presumably.

It's our gift from God, it seems.

I am sorry.

Eve, tell me.

Who would have wanted to kill your sister?

Who wouldn't?

She was a monster.

She refused to come back while Mother was dying.

Dad fell to pieces.

Patricia left it all to me to deal with.

She only came back when she was sick.

I see.

And what can you tell me about Angus Reed?

Pathetic, Patricia made him, and he knew it.

She was threatening to sack him.

Right, Eve, I don't want--

Don't.

My family's gone.

All I have ahead of me is declining health

and a miserable death, so don't.

Do you believe in hell, Doctor?

No.

I do.

Father.

Doctor.

Walk with me?

Yes.

You've seen Eve Neville.

I have, yes.

She's not a well woman.

The gas leak.

I think we both know what really happened, Father.

She's worried about going to hell.

We all are, Doctor.

You're not surprised.

So they'll be charging her with attempted suicide then.

Oh, I think that would be cruel, don't you?

And what about the church, Father?

Will you be turning the other cheek?

The church doesn't work that way.

You don't think she's suffered enough already?

What I think doesn't matter.

Suicide is a mortal sin.

But attempted suicide, surely she can ask for forgiveness,

repent her sins.

Which she won't do, and without repentance,

there's nothing to be done for her.

Perhaps forgiveness could provide some comfort

to a frightened woman.

Not at the expense of her soul.

No, of course, we wouldn't want to risk that.

Do you know, recently I was reading Pope Pius's address

to the Anaesthetists.

If a doctor's intent is to ease suffering only,

and the patient sadly passes as a result, then there is no sin.

Did Eve try to make his sister comfortable?

Is that what you're saying?

No, I'm not.

Then I'm not sure I understand.

No, I'm not sure that you do.

Perhaps we should be arguing the definition of comfortable.

Is there something else that you

wanted to talk about, Lucien?

With respect, Father, I doubt there would be any point.

Good day to you.

Good day.

Technically, we can hold you for 24 hours

over the attack on McKay.

But if I wanted to, I could increase the charges

to include attempted murder.

That would buy us more time.

You had access to poison.

You have a grudge against the family.

And quite frankly, you're a mess, Karl.

Who wouldn't suspect you of killing Patricia Neville?

Which is why I'm not convinced.

You lot seem to have a lot of scotch just lying around.

It belongs to a friend.

Take it.

You'll be doing me a favour.

The study window of the Neville house

shows signs of an attempted break in.

Was that you?

If I wanted to break in, I'd have smashed the window.

You seem to have a lot of bark and not a lot of bite, Karl.

You reckon the sisters did you wrong, hmm?

They had everything--

rich parents, big house, didn't have to work.

They even had a bloke with a gun to scare people away.

All right, so what did you want from them, then?

I-- I just wanted them to say they were sorry.

Jean?

I'm in here.

Ah, there you are.

Um, I hope you don't mind.

I've invited a few people over this evening to--

is everything all right?

That arrived in the post for you this morning.

Ah, you could have opened it, you know.

Oh.

It would have been perfectly all right.

Mei Lin sends her regards.

And?

And she won't petition for a divorce.

No, but she agreed.

To obtain a divorce, she would have

to accuse me of infidelity.

And--

--she'd have to give them names.

That I didn't know.

She's trying to protect you.

Well, what are we gonna do?

What?

She says that as a man, you have more options.

Well, yes.

Yes, I do, three in fact, none of them particularly palatable.

One, I confess to abandoning her,

which is demonstrably untrue.

Two, I state for the record that I am, in fact, a drunk

and that I inflicted emotional cruelty.

Or, three, admit to being an adulterer.

Now I wouldn't have to name names.

But goodness me, Jean, everyone here will say it's you.

You'd be tarred with the same brush.

And the bloody details would be read out in court.

Well, we-- could we--

It's all right.

We'll work it out.

We always do.

I couldn't take communion today.

Father Emery refused you?

No, it was me, although the congregation

made it perfectly clear what they thought I should do.

Right.

I spoke with him.

Lucien, he's my priest.

You're not supposed to discuss any of this with him.

Not about us, Eve Neville, do you know her?

Yes, I know of her, through the church.

She has breast cancer.

Poor woman, she's all on her own.

Jean, she won't take confession,

so the church won't help her.

Father Emery said as much.

It does seem that some people are

dealt more than their fair share sometimes.

I suppose that puts things into perspective.

"I rode to the far edge of town, squatted

beside a mullock heap, and defecated a curse on this place

with all the sincerity of youth."

I wouldn't have thought you could print that.

Listen.

It gets better.

"I curse this town with words and grunts, straining.

And I understood even then that to curse

it would be to curse myself, because it would always

be inside me, no matter how I forced it out."

Charming, no one made her come back here.

Jean.

But that's her point, isn't it?

The town is inside her, no matter where she goes.

You don't think there's a place for criticism?

Yes, I do, and I believe that's what I'm doing.

May I?

Please.

See if you recognise these people.

"His belly goes before him, swollen

with status and Bordeaux, his son as vein as the father,

with the dead eyes of a shark."

Ah, Patrick Tyneman.

And Edward.

Now I'm beginning to like this book.

Yes.

Why bother writing anything at all

if you're just going to insult everyone and everything?

Well, they say write what you know.

Well, then, perhaps she should have

stuck to writing about London and New York then.

She's just viewing Ballarat through a different lens.

That's all.

Yes, I would expect you to say that.

I seem to recall you wearing the same glasses.

Can we put you on the police payroll?

We need someone to put him back in his box sometimes.

Thank you very much.

Has anyone else read it, all of it?

No, well, then, we've got some homework to do, haven't we?

Very clandestine, people will talk.

I wasn't meaning--

I'm only teasing.

What are you looking for?

Just something I saw earlier.

"He was a charming man, in love with his own intelligence

and unwilling to settle on any thought for longer

than a moment."

Sounds like the doc.

Yes, it does.

Did Lucien say he'd met her?

Uh, I don't think so.

The mousy girl from the bookstore,

she calls her Olivia.

She's particularly cruel about her.

What does she say?

Black-rimmed glasses, frizzy hair, here,

"imagining literary greatness lay before her,

it had been years since any man had put his hands on those

poor, neglected breasts of hers."

Is there anything else about this Olivia?

Ah, are you still cranky about that book?

I was only half joking, you know.

You should go to bed.

Soon.

What's that?

Uh, that, well, um, that is my affidavit.

I was hoping Mei Lin might come up with a solution.

It seems I'm going to have to find one myself.

Oh, no, listen.

I can't ask you to do that.

Well, you didn't ask me to.

Calling yourself a drunk, this is your reputation.

And what about yours?

I won't have people drag your good name through the mud.

I simply won't have it.

They already do.

This is your livelihood.

Promise me we'll talk about this.

There has to be another way.

Perspective, hmm?

Whatever they say about me, it's not the end of the world.

Let's look at this together in the light of day, please.

All right.

I'm going to bed.

Don't stay up too long.

Eve?

Yes.

I'm Jean Beazley, from the church.

I know who you are.

I just wanted--

I thought you might like a visitor.

Thank you.

She was an awful person in many ways, but I loved her--

her mind, her tenacity.

I'm afraid I judged her on her work.

She loved it here, really.

Read to the end.

You'll understand.

Thank you for coming.

You should probably know it's not very likely that I'll

be seeing you in church.

May I ask why?

Because I'm not welcome, or worthy.

You know why I'm here, what I did.

All together, I think the church and I are no longer suited.

I drink when I shouldn't.

I lie.

I've given into temptation.

So, you see, I'm afraid I'm just too far gone.

There's no such thing.

There is for the church.

Eve, the God I believe in, he would never turn away

someone who needed him.

It's a nice thought.

We're taught that God looks inside our hearts and judges

us on what he sees.

I think if he looked inside yours,

he'd understand the person you are.

Charlie, have we missed anything that needs testing?

Doc?

Hmm?

There's a character in the book,

a woman that works in the bookshop, black-rimmed glasses,

frizzy hair.

Now she's identical to the woman that works in the library.

Andrea Kreuzfeldt?

Mm.

Ah.

It's pretty harsh, what Patricia wrote.

It seems she was hard on everyone.

Yeah.

You never met Patricia Neville, did you?

No.

No, though I must say, it sounds like she was quite something.

Mm.

Doc.

Right, this is from the bottle Charlie found today.

Yes, very high concentrations of thallium.

Ah, so this is how Patricia was poisoned.

Yes.

I don't believe that Eve killed her sister.

No, no, this is particularly brutal.

And, frankly, she didn't want her sister

to suffer, not with all of this.

No wonder Eve's a teetotaller.

Well, she isn't.

How do you know?

She told me herself.

I never drank before, but there's

been so much unhappiness since Patricia came back.

I thought the way that I was feeling was the cancer.

Of course.

Well, the good news is there's a simple antidote, Prussian blue.

The laundry pigment?

Yes.

Every day cures, we'll get you started on it.

The morning we found you both, Mr. Reed

came by the house with a-- a-- a gift-wrapped bottle.

Any idea why?

He knew she liked to drink.

I thought it was his way of keeping her in line.

Blake, if you think it's worth following up on Reed,

then I think you should go and have a chat.

Let me know how you go.

Right.

You don't want to be there?

No, no, I need to follow up something

with Andrea Kreuzfeldt.

We can compare notes later, if you'd like.

Very good.

I don't remember inviting you to join me.

You didn't.

I like the way you defended Ms. Neville as an artist

yesterday, very noble.

I gather you'll do well from the increase in book sales.

It is Andrea Kreuzfeldt, isn't it?

Yes.

Are you the same Andrea who's published stories

in "The Courier"?

I loved "Girl in the Window."

Oh, no, no, thank you.

I was wondering if you might have time for another chat.

Would you like a drink?

Uh, sure, thank you.

You had a very fractious relationship, yes?

We let off steam every now and then.

It was almost, um, an expression of respect

that we could fight like that.

I see.

And tell me.

The gift you brought over to Patricia's yesterday

morning, the bottle--

Yes.

What was it?

Uh, it was gin.

Oh, I found the bottle that the doctor was looking for,

if you still want it.

It's, uh, back in the kitchen.

I couldn't carry it, hands full.

I can't believe you read my story.

I did.

And I think it must have been awful to read Patricia's book,

to see what she wrote about you, the silly girl in the bookshop

with, uh, black-rimmed glasses and frizzy hair,

who believed her literary talents would save her.

I didn't know her.

What, at all?

No contact, ever?

She was always difficult. But lately she was worse--

jumping at shadows, screaming if anything was too loud,

cars, radio, the dog across the road.

She couldn't even write anymore.

I had to sit there, listening to her brag, drinking her gin,

when she was just a bully, and a thief.

A thief?

A thief.

Half of her story she stole from that woman in the library.

Did you realise that?

I wrote to her.

World famous novelist comes to live back in her home town.

I-- I-- I thought she could help.

Oh, no, not Patricia.

What did you want from her?

Her advice, her approval, I sent her stories.

Stories about people you knew in the town, hmm,

people like your mother's doctor?

But then you read those stories in Patricia's book, didn't you?

Who did she think she was, that she could just take them

from me?

She had her career, and she wanted to steal mine.

All she ever did was take, take, take, from everyone.

Oh, God.

Mr. Reed, is there something wrong?

I'm fine.

Really?

Yes.

Would you mind removing your hat for me, please?

I'd rather not.

Mr. Reed, please, you may have been poisoned.

Now I'm asking, remove your hat.

Mr. Reed, you have thallium poisoning.

I want you to go to the hospital and tell them

that, exactly that.

I'll give you something to counteract the effects.

Where are you going?

You can't leave me here.

I'm afraid I have to run.

You will be perfectly fine, I assure you.

Charlie.

Charlie?

Dr. Blake?

Andrea.

Um, is everything all right?

Yes.

Andrea and I were just talking about how

she tried to break into the Nevilles' house.

Weren't we?

I wanted to get my stories back,

but I couldn't get the window open.

And the-- the dog across the road kept barking.

The dog.

I'll drive.

Very good.

My dog?

Yes.

She died, a month ago.

How did she die?

Picked up a bait, horrible way to go.

Mm, especially when your neighbour poisoned her.

Eve would never do that.

No, no, but Patricia would.

How close were you and Eve?

She was lonely, wasn't she?

Well, lucky she had you around.

You kept an eye out for her--

scaring away unwanted visitors, keeping her company.

I did what any decent man would do.

She talked about sin, Mr. Porter.

When did your relationship become physical?

Eve was a decent woman.

Patricia Neville was becoming increasingly difficult.

Challenging is how everyone described her.

You saw the toll it was taking on Eve, Eve, the woman you'd

fallen in love with.

The fights, the exhaustion, goodness me.

Eve was at her wits' end, and quite frankly, so were you.

When Patricia poisoned your dog,

well, that was the last straw.

You took to sharing a drink with her.

You'd bring a bottle over, having

mixed in a little thallium.

And, of course, you'd protect yourself,

dosing up on Prussian Blue.

And then you'd sit there, watching

her slowly poisoning herself.

Did you realise Eve tested positive to the poison as well?

No.

Even doesn't touch alcohol.

Well, not when anyone was around.

Perhaps-- perhaps committing sin with you drove her to drink.

I'd never hurt Eve, never.

But you did.

You did.

You poisoned her.

And you took away the person she loved most, her sister.

She was dying, anyway.

I wouldn't have done it, but she was

dying, anyway, and causing so much misery while she did it.

As did you, Mr. Porter.

As did you.

I knew he loved me.

He always felt more for me than I felt for him, but he was--

Max was someone for me to tell my troubles to.

You know, I don't think he's a bad man.

Circumstances made us all less than we can be.

Tell me.

Have any of the doctors you've consulted with

told you what to expect with your cancer?

I know what's coming.

Well, I promise you won't have to go through it alone.

I will do everything I can to make

things comfortable for you.

I recommend we don't charge Eve Neville with attempted

suicide.

Even though she committed the act?

Well, the charge serves no purpose.

What if I disagree?

Well, that's your prerogative, boss.

Fair enough.

Carry on.

You can't get out of that bloody chair, can you?

What say we wait till everyone's gone, and I'll help you up?

Eve Nevile sends her thanks and wants

to know if you've read to the end yet.

Yes, I have.

The girl in the bookshop, it was Patricia.

It was rather lovely at the end.

Eve Neville, I think she needs some help.

I'm gonna visit her once she's out of hospital.

I think that would be greatly appreciated.

I plan on doing my bit, too.

Lucien, I said we should wait till the light of day,

but it's no better.

This could ruin you.

And I can't see another way around it.

We'll find a way.

We have to keep looking.

Promise me you won't do anything rash.

Yes, I promise.