Original subtitles

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.

(CATS YELP)

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

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

Oh, 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.

(CAT HISSES)

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.

Ah, Nick and Allie? Inside with Pathology.

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

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

ALLIE: 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. (MOBILE PHONE RINGS)

I have to take this.

Superintendent?

Hmm. 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.

ALLIE: 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...

RHYS: 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.

Oh, thank you. (LAUGHS)

More designer clothes.

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

(DOOR OPENS)

Rhys.

BOTH: 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.

Ah, here.

Where's the mail? Oh. 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.

(SCOFFS)

How much was that gonna cost you? Ah...

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. Oh, 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. Oh, 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.

Oh, 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.

MAN: (OVER RADIO) 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? Oh, 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, ah, 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.

Oh, 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.

Oh, 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?

RHYS: 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?

Oh, my God. That guy. I know him.

You sure? Absolutely.

He comes into the shop all the time.

MAN: Hey, hey, hey, Cuz. Cuz.

Get out of my car, man.

Vinnie? Baby.

Vincent De Luca? Police.

(ALL SHOUT)

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. (SCOFFS) 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.

(LAUGHS)

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, uh... 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? Oh, 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.

(KNOCKS)

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.

Oh, 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. DARREN: Hey, um... can we talk?

I've got some information.

Uh, 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.

(SIREN WAILS)

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!

NICK: 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! (SCREAMS)

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.

NICK: 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.

Oh, you didn't believe that. Love?!

What a joke! She was a gold-digger!

Oh. 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.

(WHIMPERS)

(SCREAMS)

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? Mmm.

She and Dad were starting a family.

I don't think so. Oh, 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.

(SCREAMS, SOBS)

We weren't gonna kill her.

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

Say it.

SAY it! (GASPS, WHIMPERS)

Say it, you bitch. Please!

Please don't kill me! (SOBS)

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

You SLUT! (SCREAMS)

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! Huh! 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.

Mmm. 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.

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