Original subtitles

[Dog whimpers]

What is it? What's the matter?

[Barking]

Oh! [Grunts]

What...

Someone must be missing you, mate.

BREEN: We could round up the local crayfishermen,

see who sticks their hand up.

SIMS: Yeah, or not, as the case may be.

Check out the local doctors and accident and emergency.

If it is a diving accident,

the owner should have presented for treatment somewhere.

If they're still alive.

Looks like the rope's been cut.

Yeah, must be a Keely pot.

SIMS: Because?

Well, no one else around here has that many pots.

The Keely family have been cray catchers for generations.

Yeah, then their dad died five years back

in a boating "accident."

Fuel leak. Boat blew up. He got toasted.

JARED: Des the Devil.

That's what everyone called him.

Old man Des. Des the Devil.

Scary guy.

Somewhere to start.

JARED: Plus that number.

- It's the Devil's number. - A coincidence, I'm sure.

Is it?

Ma Keely and the two sons, Tommy and Liam, and daughter Liza,

gradually hoovered up all the local quota.

What does that have to do with the Devil?

Oh, they're very protective of their patch.

So is the Devil.

Okay.

- Very. - Okay, got it.

Just so you know.

Yeah, thanks.

Plus, when I found that hand,

it pointed at me like old Des pointed at me.

Yeah, if he died five years ago, that won't be his hand.

It could be a sign, though.

I thought I should hand it over.

So, how was it severed -- cut, sawn, or chopped?

What with?

What made the puncture in the palm?

How long has it been in the water?

All that'd be good.

[Laughs]

Sorry, I get it now. You said "hand" it over.

This is English humor.

Uh, yeah. Sorry.

I need to know whether the man or woman it was removed from

was alive or dead at the time.

Man.

Hair on the back of the fingers. The size also.

Ah, but what about your theory around Russian womens' hands

being big and hairy?

I said they could be big. I never said hairy.

Fair point.

Do I have hairy hands?

No.

You shouldn't make assumptions, Mike.

Well, it is part of the job.

Next you'll be assuming that I'm Russian. [Laughs]

You're not Russian?

Why do you ask this?

Perhaps it was Russian humor.

Oh, hey.

No record of anyone

reporting that kind of injury over the last three weeks.

If it was a diver,

maybe he shot himself with his own speargun,

pinned himself, and had to cut off his own hand

like that guy in the desert.

- Mm. Missed that movie. - True story.

But a bleeding diver? Shark bait.

Might be lucky to find anything.

Well, either way, someone's missing a hand,

or someone's missing a father, son, husband, diving companion.

Yeah, but if so, why no missing-person report?

SHEPHERD: Mm.

I guess we should start with the owner of that cray pot.

[Sighs]

- You all right with that? - Yeah, I'm good.

Senior? Complaint -- hit and run.

All yours.

Can I help you?

Does, uh, ma have a name?

WOMAN: What the hell do you want?

"Mrs. Keely" might be best.

Mrs. Keely.

This is D.S.S. Shepherd. I'm Detective Sims.

Here to ID one of your cray pots, actually.

Takes two D's to show me a cray pot?

You're right, Mrs. Keely. That's just part of it.

Well, it's a Keely pot. What's it to you?

Ah, well, we were hoping that we could ask you some questions.

Returning cray pots is about all you're good for.

Where were you when my Des got done?

You're referring to your husband's boating accident?

Accident?

Christ, is that what you lot still think?

I wasn't in Brokenwood at the time.

No. No, I don't remember you.

Or you. It was that useless Gary McLeod.

Well, we understand that the coroner's report

found it to be an accident.

Was he there? Did he actually see it?

No, but the coroner's job is to ascertain --

Where did you find the pot?

Brokenwood Beach.

What was it doing there?

We were hoping that you could tell us.

If you've got questions, talk to Tommy and Liza.

In the meantime, you can give me back my pot and bugger off.

MacMillan and I were just standing there.

- MacMillan? - Yes. That's my dog.

We were just standing there, and suddenly it was upon us.

Whoosh!

Never heard a thing.

One of those hybrid electrical things, you think?

No engine noise at all?

I-I'm sorry?

What sort of car?

Ah. Uh, Japanese.

Or German.

It could've been Korean.

Foreign, anyway.

Right, right. Driver?

Oh, definitely.

Definitely what?

Well, cars don't drive themselves, do they?

Did you see the driver?

No.

- Color? - I told you I didn't see him.

The car! What color was the car?!

No need to raise your voice.

Sand hills.

What?

Well, you asked where the car was.

I'm telling you sand hills.

I mean, if it had been on tarseal, I --

Wait -- You were out at the beach?

Yes. That's what I've been telling you.

- Are you listening to me? - What time was this?

I told you -- early this morning.

And what color was the car?

Well, see, now, it wasn't black.

Right.

Or white. No, no. I can assure you of that.

So red, blue, green, pink?

Oh, that's, um --

That's where it gets a little difficult, you see?

Heh.

♪ At dawn left the city ♪

♪ Before that fella caught up with me ♪

♪ Yes, I am ♪

♪ Oh, yes, I am ♪

[Indistinct conversations]

- Tommy Keely? - Keely? Over there.

MAN: Popular.

Tommy?

Liam. You want my brother.

SHEPHERD: Tommy?

My brother trying to put our weights up again?

Could we have a word outside?

That's Dominic Nichol.

- The winemaker, right? - Mm.

Not anymore. Went to the wall.

Works on the mussel farm now.

Left in a hurry when he saw you. What's he done?

Nothing that we're aware of.

LIZA: So you found our cray pot?

Yes. Number 66.

We need you to tell us where it was located.

Yeah.

I could take you out there tomorrow.

Crack of dawn at the jetty okay?

Detective Sims will be there.

Well, see you then, then.

Your round, Sis.

And you will be...?

Pursuing other inquiries.

You'll get more out of him.

Plus boats and me don't really get along.

Oh, take a pill.

Oh, it's nothing to do with seasickness.

It's the whole idea of it I don't like.

Had a wife who was into boats.

[Chuckles] Which is why she's an ex-wife.

Yada yada ya. I get it.

She drowned.

Oh, my God.

I'm so sorry.

[Engine turns over]

It's okay.

♪ My heart is ♪

♪ Beat-beat-beating inside my chest ♪

♪ Until I get your loving, I won't get no rest ♪

♪ No matter what you say or do ♪

♪ What kind of hell you're gonna put me through ♪

♪ I'm gonna walk ♪

♪ Walk, walk, walk ♪

What are you doing here, missy?

♪ Back to your heart ♪

Tommy didn't tell you?

No, he doesn't tell me a lot.

We're going out to reset that pot.

Do you know how to look after yourself on the water?

I'd like to think so.

That's good, then.

Morning.

Morning. Are you coming too?

TOMMY: What are you doing?

You should take Liza with you.

Is that an order, is it?

No, of course not.

- I just thought that -- - Don't think.

You get your beauty sleep, girl. You need it.

Reckon you can hold her steady, or I shall I drop the anchor?

I'm sweet. It's calm enough.

Sweet? I'll be the judge of that.

So you found it down at Brokenwood Beach?

Yeah.

Why didn't you call me to pick it up?

Why the special treatment?

Someone handed it in.

Hmm. That's a good one.

What is?

Handed it in.

Like lost property.

Well, Brokenwood Beach would seem to be quite lost from here.

What about what was in it?

What was in it?

The crayfish.

The boys down at the station hoover them up first?

There were no crayfish.

Guess I'll have to take your word for it.

How often do you have to dive for a pot

'cause you've lost a buoy?

Every now and then. Why?

You like diving?

I'm a fisherman.

That's like asking a priest if he likes going to church.

The lab boy managed to lift a fingerprint.

They will send it across.

Good.

KADINSKY: The hand was cut or sawn with a knife.

How difficult would that be?

I mean, it's straight through the wrist bone, right?

It was severed above the carpus,

where it articulates with the ulna and radius.

What I said.

So you need a big knife.

- Like a diver's bowie knife? - Perhaps.

Whoever did it, would they have had to hold the victim down?

You mean was he alive when the hand was sawn off?

Yes.

I don't think so, but I need to see its owner to be sure.

We live in hope.

What about the hole in the hand?

The hole in the hand.

Is that another use of English humor?

No, it's a question.

Oh.

The piercing indicates it penetrated through the palm.

He might have been defending himself from whoever killed him.

If he's dead.

Each numbered dot is a cray pot?

TOMMY: Mm-hmm.

Can I get a copy of this?

This chart is the Keely family livelihood,

two generations of good oil on the coastline.

Okay, but we need to figure out how pot 66 got from here

all the way down to Brokenwood Beach.

Albatross? Dolphin? Octopus? Not my problem.

No outsiders. That's been the rules.

My prick of a brother's the exception.

Does the location of pot 66

have any significance that you can see?

- Not the location. - What, then?

Well, 66.

It's the Devil's number, isn't it?

So I've heard.

Okay, well, um, time to get back.

Thanks for the, uh, insight.

Not at all.

[Shutter clicks]

What are you doing?

Text from Mum.

Just checking I'll be home for roast this Sunday.

Fingerprint section have managed to lift one.

It'll be e-mailed through.

I'll chase them up for a match.

Hold on. This hit and run.

BREEN: Which wasn't, actually.

But he was there the same time as Jared.

The vehicle might be connected.

Yeah.

"No engine noise -- electric."

Or not.

"Of a color that is not black or white."

Achromatopsia.

A rare condition, but our witness has it.

He can only see in gray scale.

And...

- Deaf as a post? - Aha.

Has Kristin checked in?

No.

My family's had to fight like hell to preserve its quota.

Doesn't help when one of your own turns against you.

Your brother, Liam?

Lazy dickhead.

Instead of working his share of the quota,

he leases it out to those bastards he was drinking with.

Dominic Nichol.

Michel's boss, Wes Pullman.

Pullman by name, Pullman by nature.

You like that?

He pulls Michel's strings.

Owns all the mussel farms out over there.

Wants to own everything else,

including our share of the cray quota.

But you won't sell?

Hell no.

Doesn't help when your own flesh and blood

is giving the bastard a sniff, though.

Apple of the old man's eye.

Rotten apple, more like it.

Great day to be out on the water.

Great to have some new blood in town.

MAN: Hey, boss! Boss! Hey!

Turn it off! Turn it off!

NICHOL: Bryce Fahey, local fisheries officer.

You sure?

Hard to tell with him all waterlogged like that, but yeah.

As much a pain in the ass in death as he was in life.

Friend of yours, was he?

Don't look at me.

Your problem with this idiot

isn't finding people who wanted to throttle him.

It's finding someone who didn't.

Talk to the boss.

His boss is Wes Pullman, who owns a mussel farm,

and according to Tommy Keely,

wants to get his hands on the Keely cray quota.

Not that I'd trust Tommy's word.

Or his hands, for that matter.

Presumably we have a match for the hand,

by the looks of where it was severed.

That's your professional opinion?

You reckon he lost it before or after death?

If you let me do my job, I might be able to get you that opinion.

Right you are.

- Mike? - Yes?

The victim -- He was very handsome.

Well, if you say so.

No, it was an English-language joke.

"Hand-some."

A man with only some of his hands.

Right.

That's very good.

[Laughs]

Won't hold you up.

Got it. Ta.

[Mid-tempo country music playing]

Breen says Bryce Fahey is married and lives locally,

but he can't raise his wife, Jools.

- Where? - Locke's Road.

Why, if Jools Fahey is still alive,

has she not missed her husband?

That's a good question.

Hey, um, yesterday, about your wife...

Don't worry about it, Sims. You weren't to know.

True. But I'm sorry if I --

It's just one of those things.

Do you know why Johnny Cash always wore black?

Do I want to know?

I think your inner country-music fan is dying to know.

[Chuckles]

SIMS: Mrs. Fahey?

No one home.

Where's the boat?

Maybe she was on it with him,

which would explain

why no missing-person report was lodged.

Are we looking for another body?

Bryce goes out on the boat, perhaps with his wife.

There should be a vehicle with an empty boat trailer

at one of the local boat ramps.

Find me one of Bryce Fahey's friends.

We need to make a formal ID.

Don't know about a friend.

Have you heard the bush telegraph on this guy?

What about his employer?

Fisheries department says there's a volunteer officer

who worked alongside Bryce when needed.

On it.

Welcome, friend.

Mr. Cleland? D.C. Breen.

I understand you're a colleague of Bryce Fahey.

[Whispering] Go with God. Go with God.

[Normal voice] Amen.

SHEPHERD: I take it that's Bryce Fahey.

It is, bless him.

Killed in the line of duty.

One of our finest.

Thanks, Mr. Cleland.

KADINSKY: Preliminary results indicate that he was dead

before the hand was sawn off.

Also the level of bloating

suggests he's been in the water at least 48 hours, up to 72.

The hand similarly.

Well, the hand was found yesterday, Wednesday morning.

So the deed was done Mondayish?

Or even Sunday.

Thanks.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Noel Cleland didn't ask why Bryce Fahey's hand was missing?

Yeah.

You know how Elton John's real name is Reginald Dwight,

and Cliff Richard was born Harry Webb?

Who's Cliff Richard?

So Johnny Cash's real name can't be Johnny Cash, can it?

Oh. Actually it is.

Real, you see? Authentic.

Country.

Right.

So Tammy Wynette's real name isn't Virginia Pugh?

SHEPHERD: I take it you've been notified.

Yeah, that bloody corpse.

We've had to delay the harvest, so there's an export order

of two tons of green-lipped mussels

that won't be on a plane to the States tomorrow.

Well, I'm sure Bryce Fahey

would share your frustration, Mr. Pullman,

were he still alive.

- He was a pain in the ass alive. - Even more so in death?

You said it, not me.

So you and Bryce weren't friends?

We had nothing in common.

SIMS: Except the fishing industry.

PULLMAN: Bryce was regarded by some as a bully,

and there wouldn't be a commercial

or recreational fisherman in this district

with a kind word for him.

So if you think this was an accident, you're kidding.

SIMS: So you've got your suspicions, Mr. Pullman?

Well, you could start with the seaside Appalachians.

You're referring to the Keelys.

You can hear the banjos a mile off.

Funnily enough, they're pointing the finger at you.

Those river rats can say what they like.

They've had it their own way for generations.

Think they own anything and everything

with a bit of water around it.

Whereas, in reality, you own it.

Do you own a speargun, Mr. Pullman?

No. No, I don't.

But the boys on your boats do?

Well, in case of sharks

when they're servicing the droppers, yes.

Have you ever used one?

Years ago. I don't dive much these days.

See? You do have something in common with Bryce.

♪ All around that... ♪

It's possible we've uncovered a turf war.

Or perhaps a surf war.

Keelys versus Pullman.

Livelihoods and businesses.

It's high stakes.

[Cellphone rings]

Yeah?

Jools Fahey, Bryce's wife,

has just walked in with a surprise guest --

Dennis Buchanan.

SIMS: On our way.

Jools Fahey is waiting for us.

Complete with lawyer.

That's front-footing it.

How did it happen?

A diving accident possibly.

- Really? - Possibly.

What sort of accident?

He may have impaled himself on his speargun.

Not possible.

Bryce was a navy diver for 20 years.

SHEPHERD: With all due respect, even those with experience --

Bryce always told me if he had a diving mishap,

not to believe it was an accident.

- Those bastards. - Who?

All of them! This bloody town.

SHEPHERD: Who had a problem with Bryce?

Try anyone with a boat and a fishing rod.

SIMS: Can you be any more specific?

When Bryce was decommissioned from the navy,

I wanted to stay in the city.

But, no, he wanted to be close to the bloody sea.

[Sobbing]

It's okay. Take your time.

How long since you've seen your husband, Mrs. Fahey?

JOOLS: Four days, five.

You didn't notice his absence, feel the need to contact anyone?

I wasn't home, Detective.

Where were you?

You're not obliged to answer that.

SHEPHERD: True.

But if you don't, we'll draw our own conclusions.

Which would be what?

We're not obliged to say.

Let's try again, shall we?

Did you phone home from wherever you were?

No, because I knew Bryce wasn't at home.

You knew he was out on the boat?

Yes.

Did you try and communicate with him, phone his mobile?

[Sighs]

No.

SIMS: Not once in four or five days?

Let's just say she was out of network coverage.

- Rig ht. - Not easy these days.

Where exactly were you?

JOOLS: It's probably easiest if I show you.

SHEPHERD: What size would you say that was?

BUCHANAN: 40-footer, more or less.

SIMS: More.

So you're saying you were far enough out

to be beyond cellphone coverage?

JOOLS: Yes.

SIMS: What about VHF radio?

BUCHANAN: This vessel doesn't have one.

SIMS: You go out to sea without VHF?

BUCHANAN: Jools likes it old-school.

SIMS: But you've got cellphones?

[Chuckles] Who doesn't?

- But you were out of range? - Yeah. It's not unusual.

How do you operate one of these by yourself?

I've been sailing competitively since I was nine.

Well, still, that's a big boat. What about docking?

She wasn't alone.

And you can vouch for this how?

I was with her.

This is mine.

[Cellphone rings]

Excuse me.

Breen.

I've located Bryce's trailer.

And we might have a lead on his boat.

A container ship has reported a boat matching Bryce's

drifting apparently unmanned near the sea lane.

Good work.

[Mel Parsons' "Far Away" plays]

♪ Far, far away ♪

♪ You're so far away ♪

♪ Far, far away ♪

♪ I want it to stay that way ♪

♪ Far, far away ♪

♪ But you're on my mind ♪

♪ Far, far away ♪

♪ I thought I'd left you behind ♪

♪ Music makes me feel like I'm alive ♪

[Cellphone dialing]

♪ It can wake me up ♪

♪ It can make me die ♪

Make yourself comfortable.

Not you.

Come on, Detective.

You can't separate a client from their lawyer.

Oh, I can for witness statements,

which is all this is at this stage.

Unless you know something I don't.

Back soon.

After you.

I should warn you

that any information I have about my client is privileged.

And I should remind you that any information you have

as a solicitor in respect of your client

is the client's privilege, not yours.

Maybe you're confusing that rule

with your right not to incriminate yourself.

Please. Take a seat.

You need to instruct a lawyer that is not implicated in this

to give you independent advice.

Dennis and I are involved.

More than as lawyer and client, I take .it

Yes.

You are having an affair with Dennis Buchanan.

An affair?

Oh, dear me. How bourgeois, Detective.

That wouldn't be much of a scandal, even in Brokenwood.

And what would you call it?

More a ménage à trois.

You're saying Bryce knew about you and Dennis?

That's not what it means.

He didn't just know -- He was an active participant.

Right.

As I said, Bryce was ex-navy.

They're very broad-minded, sailors.

Mm.

So the three of you would go out on Dennis' gin palace together?

- Regularly. - Occasionally.

There's no law against it, Dennis.

We're consenting adults.

And I object to the term "gin palace."

It's a cruiser.

But on this trip, it was just the two of you?

JOOLS: Yes.

And why? Where was Bryce?

He said he had something to take care of that couldn't wait.

And what was that?

We tried not to discuss his work.

I wanted to be able to walk around town

and not know who hated us.

If anything further comes to mind...

...please let me know.

And you, Detective.

A threesome?

Technically speaking, it's a ménage à trois.

Oh, right, French. So that makes it classy.

- It's their business. - Yeah, but at their age?

Believe it or not, Breen, but some things get better with age.

Cheese.

SIMS: Coffee for three?

I'm good.

Ah, not for me.

Well, it could be a long night.

That's one way to make it even longer.

You shouldn't have. Really.

Okay, overview.

Jared finds the cray pot with Bryce's hand here.

Which, according to Tommy Keely, came from exactly here.

Charmed it out of him, did you?

I may have accidentally slipped and taken a photograph.

Clumsy.

Pullman's mussel farm, here,

where the rest of Bryce's body was found.

SIMS: And Bryce's boat found here with the anchor rope cut.

So we have to work out from wind, tide, and current

over the last four or five days

where it was last when Bryce was on it.

SIMS: It might be easier than that.

The boat had all the latest

navigational and communication gear.

The IT guys must be able to put together a digital trail.

Could tide and current

take the hand from here all the way to here -- Brokenwood Beach?

In time. Maybe.

Jools says she last saw Bryce alive on Saturday

before she and Buchanan set out on his cruiser.

And Gina reckons that Bryce was killed

on Sunday or the Monday.

And that the hand was severed after he was dead.

So that gives the cray pot a maximum of three or four days

to travel that distance.

How likely is that?

Someone placed the hand on the beach.

BREEN: So whoever killed Bryce cut off his hand,

then nicked a Keely cray pot, put it in the pot,

and placed it on the beach knowing that it would be found.

Maybe Jared was right.

Maybe cutting off the hand is some sort of sign.

Then who's it for?

[Mel Parsons' "On Your Grave" plays]

♪ The rain pours down, down, down ♪

♪ On your grave ♪

- SIMS: What about the speargun? - No, it's clean.

And nothing to indicate that his body was dragged back on board

after he was shot?

Boat's clean.

♪ Songs we sang, the times we cried ♪

♪ The miles we walked will never die ♪

♪ Pacts we made, intentions good ♪

♪ Adventures planned, the times withstood ♪

♪ And the rain pours down ♪

♪ On your grave ♪

♪ My heart was found... ♪

Go with God, Bryce. God forgives you.

God loves you.

You cut that out. Bryce wasn't religious.

NOEL: Doesn't stop you from using the church

when it's convenient.

- Please, Mr. Cleland. - Go in peace, Bryce!

Your passing will not be in vain.

Our cause needs its martyrs.

Bugger off. He is her husband, for God's sake.

You take the Keelys. I'll do Cleland.

I will not have this, do you understand?

D.S.S. Shepherd.

A word, Mr. Cleland?

Acting Fisheries Officer Cleland.

Apologies, Officer Cleland.

That's quite a job to take on as a volunteer.

Well, I'm not afraid of hard work.

God built the earth in six days.

Who am I to complain?

You're not worried that whoever killed Bryce

may now target his successor?

Those who fight the good fight on earth

shall find their rewards in heaven.

When you were talking about your cause needing a martyr,

was that what you were referring to?

Yes.

If you'll excuse me, I'd like to be there for the interment.

I didn't realize you were friends of Bryce.

We weren't, really. We just knew him.

We Keelys have lived and died at sea for generations.

Yeah, it was a boating tragedy that wrecked our family.

We're God-fearing people, Detective,

despite what you might have heard.

And I make a point of honoring others

who have lost their lives that way.

Mr. Fahey wasn't a bad man.

Just mistaken.

Would your son Tommy share those sentiments?

Tommy finds it hard to forgive.

Liam too.

Particularly each other.

Sorry. I didn't mean to upset her.

We can't move on.

She's stuck 'cause she doesn't know.

Know what?

Who killed my father.

It was five years ago, wasn't it?

I could take a look into it, and see if there's --

There won't be.

Thanks.

My condolences.

Tell me you're not here on business, Detective.

I spoke to Bryce's employer earlier.

They've consented for us to take a look at Bryce's files

before they pick them up.

To what purpose?

I'm investigating a murder, Mr. Buchanan.

Purpose enough?

- Jared? - Shh.

You got a minute?

- SHEPHERD: Take a seat. - JARED: Okay.

Matthew 5:30.

"And if thy right hand offend thee,

cut if off and cast it from thee,

for it is profitable for thee

that one of thy members should perish,

and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell."

Noel Cleland is a fundamentalist nutter.

Yeah. "Our cause needs martyrs."

- Yeah, nutter is right. - You know Cleland?

Well, he came into my nan's church once.

Yelled some hocus-pocus, and the font caught fire.

Turned out it was methylated spirits.

Wow. Does he do kids' parties?

So was Bryce Noel's right-hand man who needed to be cut off?

Maybe. But why?

JARED: Then there's Revelations 13:18.

"Here is wisdom.

Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast,

for it is the number of a man,

and his number is six hundred three score and six."

Sometimes, apparently, shortened to 66.

Tommy Keely did say that the significance of the cray pot

might be that it's the Devil's number.

JARED: That's what I said at the beach.

- SIMS: Well, yeah, but -- - You listen to him but not me?

Well, I just thought you might be a bit freaked out...

- I was freaked out. - Hey, kids.

It does seem that Bryce was killed on the Sabbath.

No way.

And with stigmata.

With what?

Well, there was a hole in his hand, right?

Like Jesus on the cross, where the nails went in.

- Jeez. - JARED: Exactly.

So round up the Christians. Any lions handy?

What if whoever killed Bryce Fahey

knew who killed Des Keely

and the energy transferred into the hand

and it pointed at me?

Like old Devil Des returning from the deep to remind me.

Reminding you of what?

Well, he accused me of poaching once.

- And were you? - No. But it was a heavy scene.

If I'd actually had crays in my kete,

I reckon I might've ended up like Bryce.

Are you suggesting Bryce was poaching

and Des the Devil returned from the dead to kill him?

No, because that would be implausible.

I'm just saying, like I said before, it felt like a sign.

Okay, thanks, Jared. It's been enlightening.

Anytime. I'll see myself out.

Look, it does seem like

there was some kind of bad blood between the Keely brothers

and it does relate back to

the cold-case murder of their father.

Boating accident, not cold case.

Well, both Ma and Liza don't believe it was an accident.

How does this relate back to Bryce Fahey?

I don't know, but Ma more or less warned me

that Tommy is a worry, and I agree --

He's either mad or bad.

I think Ma and Liza might be ready to say more.

Go for it.

I'll check out Bryce's office, and you're on Cleland.

Check out his movements Sunday-Monday.

Excellent

The religious nut bar.

All the best jobs.

I read through those case notes. They're fairly cryptic.

I was hoping maybe you and your mum

could give me the full story.

Don't talk to Mum.

She gets real wound up about it.

Okay.

Then, um, what can you tell me about it?

There were poachers cleaning out our pots most nights.

Dad got real paranoid,

so when he got a tip-off one night someone was out there,

he -- he went totally nuts.

Rattle your dags, girl!

Dad, don't! Just leave it!

DES: I've had an absolute gutsful of these bastards.

I thought if I went with him,

I could try and get him to calm down.

Dad!

[Engine turns over]

LIZA: Aaah!

Liza!

Dad had no chance.

I'm sorry. That must have been horrific.

And your mum was there too?

If it wasn't for her, I might have drowned.

[Moaning]

Help!

Help us!

Somebody!

Why do you think it wasn't an accident?

'Cause it wasn't.

SIMS: The maritime investigation deemed it was a fuel leak.

LIZA: But how did it come to have one?

SIMS: A deliberate fuel leak?

Dad was a ticketed marine engineer,

and that boat was his pride and joy.

He'd restored it from scratch.

Whoever it was who tipped him off about the cray poachers

knew Dad was wound up about that,

knew he'd make for the boat, and sabotaged it.

Makes it murder, doesn't it?

Where were your brothers that night?

Tommy and Liam were at the fishing club.

Together?

They sort of got along back then.

And they fell out over what happened to your father?

Why, Liza?

You should ask them.

I'm asking you.

I can't say.

I can't.

JOOLS: I had no idea how much I'd miss Bryce.

Sounds like missing him was something you'd contemplated.

I didn't mean it like that.

Come through.

Bryce found the administrative side a bit of a challenge.

Hmm.

He liked putting things down on paper, making lists.

He didn't use that much.

He said his fingers were too big.

Okay.

Shall I make you a coffee?

- Oh, that'd be great. - Short black or flat white?

Long short black?

[Chuckles]

You do remind me of Bryce.

Is that how he had it?

No. Big fingers.

You must need a break, Detective.

Another coffee? Some other refreshment?

Any sign of breaking and entering while you were away?

No.

Has Dennis Buchanan been in the house since you got back?

Well, yes.

Was he in here?

I don't think so, but I couldn't swear on the Bible.

Noel Cleland tried to get in here.

When was this?

He turned up late yesterday in his ridiculous uniform.

I'm here in an official capacity.

I need to sequester Bryce's files.

Sequestering?

And what'd you say to him?

Bugger off, you officious prick.

I could do a red wine.

You did ask.

You're a hard man to track down, Mr. Cleland.

Acting Fisheries Officer Cleland.

Where's the Shepherd fellow?

BREEN: On another line of inquiry.

Good name, that -- Shepherd.

The Lord is our shepherd, you know?

Do you need a hand?

Have you lot cleared the fisheries boat yet?

I can't be expected to properly discharge my duties in that.

It's being sorted.

Where have you been?

Doing God's work.

Like what?

Apprehending miscreants and sinners of the sea.

Right.

[Footsteps]

Should we sit somewhere more comfy?

Sure.

[The Unfaithful Ways' "Twenty Nine Days" plays]

♪ 29 days until September comes ♪

♪ 29 nights till I'll be in your arms ♪

♪ And I know at least 27 out of the 29... ♪

I'm with Liza.

Dad was murdered.

Based on what?

Whoever made that call knew Dad was paranoid about poachers,

knew he'd take the old boat out, and wired it to blow.

So you believe it was an inside job?

Can you get any more inside than family?

That's a serious allegation.

Murder is a serious business, wouldn't you say, Detective?

My brother, Tommy, made that call.

Do you have proof?

Jesus.

It's all in the police file, isn't it?

From the phone box outside in the car park.

There is record on file of a call being made.

Yeah.

And being received by my dad

on a landline in my family's house.

That was the call that sealed his fate.

But no one in the club that night saw anyone use that phone.

Yeah, right. How likely is that?

Anyone coming into or going out of the car park --

having a smoke, selling pot,

or having a drunken quickie up against the wall --

would have seen Tommy in there making that call.

You're convinced it was Tommy.

Dad wouldn't have gone hooning out after poachers

that time of night unless he thought he had the real oil.

Tommy was the only one here, apart from me,

whose word Dad would trust.

So Tommy intimidated the witnesses?

Tommy doesn't need to say or do anything.

Everyone knows he's an evil prick.

Yeah, well, he'd have to be

to murder his own father, wouldn't he?

You don't believe me.

Well, what was his motive?

Control.

But your father's will

would have provided for shares, surely.

Meaningless.

Tommy knew he could bully Mum and Liza,

effectively control their shares.

Tommy says you're leasing your cray quota to Pullman.

So what?

Take the fee. Let others do the work.

That's a legitimate business arrangement?

For which Pullman is paying better than market rates.

What's eating Tommy is that he's not controlling it.

Or me.

[Vehicle door opens, closes]

Liam Keely is adamant that Tommy Keely killed their father.

Do you see a connection to Bryce Fahey?

If Tommy killed once, he can kill again?

Okay.

Let's push Tommy's buttons, see if anything breaks.

But we need an excuse.

I sure hope God broke the mold when he made Cleland.

He's nuts.

Nuts or obstructive?

Both.

He can't really account for his whereabouts

Sunday afternoon or evening.

Says he was in "solitary prayer retreat."

Where?

Upstairs in his bedroom.

Mm. Solitary prayer retreat?

Keep on him.

Empty. Clearly it was full at some stage.

Dennis Buchanan had access,

according to Jools,

and Noel Cleland turned up to sequester it.

What was he looking for?

Witnesses say your vehicle

was at the boat ramp Sunday afternoon

when you say you were on a solitary prayer retreat

in your bedroom.

"Solitary prayer retreat" is code

for "mind your own business."

Right now your business is our business.

I suppose I could resent

being given the third degree by a fellow officer,

but I understand you're just doing your duty.

Just as I was doing mine on Sunday afternoon.

I decided to check out the Pullman mussel farm.

Why?

Because they were constantly in breach

and Bryce was going soft on them.

What do you mean by that?

We had collected chapter and verse

on multitudinous transgressions,

and yet somehow it all seemed to come to nothing.

[Telephone rings]

If you'll excuse me.

Cleland's changed his story.

He now puts himself at the mussel farm on Sunday afternoon.

Got to go.

Get to the mussel farm.

See who else was out there on Sunday afternoon

and whether they saw Cleland.

You want me to drive your car?

Yeah. It's a good car.

Okay. Sure.

Automatic, right?

No, manual.

Just kidding.

[Engine turns over]

[Engine revs]

The registered office for Pullman Aquaculture is here,

even though their actual office is across the corridor?

Oh, it's just a service address for the Registrar of Companies.

We do that for a number of our clients.

Pullman Aquaculture is a client?

It's a small town, Detective.

It is indeed.

When you were visiting Jools Fahey

to offer your, uh, condolences,

did you go into Bryce's home office?

I didn't see any need.

Even though he has a big, fat file on your client,

Pullman Aquaculture?

Did he?

Well, he did. Seems to be empty now.

- Did you see it? - No.

Were you aware of its existence?

[Cellphone rings]

This better be good.

Cleland says he and Bryce had Pullman nailed

on any number of serious breaches,

but nothing seemed to come of them.

So he went to Bryce's house hoping to take over the file.

When I queried him on that,

Cleland said something quite weird.

Bryce's death might have been a mercy.

For who?

His greedy self.

His inference was that Bryce was on the take from Pullman.

- Good work. - There's one other thing.

Cleland's a diver and owns a speargun.

Get forensics to go over Cleland's inflatable and gear.

He'll regard that as an act of war.

Get a warrant. Make it official.

He likes that.

[Keypad beeps]

I'm not keeping you, am I?

I want access to Bryce's bank accounts.

Absolutely.

As soon as I sight a court order directing me to do so.

Did you know that Noel Cleland

was out here on Sunday afternoon?

I did, yes.

Were you out here too?

Nah. I was at home.

Who else was out here?

No one that I know of.

So, what was he doing?

Snooping. Officious bastard.

He rang with a list of noncompliance issues

as soon as he got to shore.

On a Sunday.

Come back, Bryce Fahey. All is forgiven.

Cleland's on a holy crusade.

And Bryce was hard-nosed, but it was just business in the end.

Your boss says that Bryce was a bully.

To some, maybe.

- To you? - A hassle.

But Cleland?

He's a nightmare.

Did Cleland say that Bryce was out here with him

on Sunday afternoon?

- Dead or alive? - You tell me.

No. No, he didn't.

And funnily enough, he didn't mention finding Bryce's body

when he was checking the droppers.

Were you aware that they were both preparing

a big case against Pullman?

We knew something was going on.

That would have threatened your livelihood out here.

Yeah, maybe.

What with losing your vineyard and going bankrupt,

that would have been hard to take.

If the fisheries department closes down the mussel farm,

then I'm out on the street again.

So your job is worth a lot.

Worth taking the rap for Pullman, perhaps?

Come on. No way.

Where were you Sunday evening?

I was at home with my wife.

Do you own a speargun?

- Yeah, of course, but... - Can I take a look at it?

Well, it's at home. It's not here.

Okay. I won't hold you up any longer.

Thanks.

Let's go.

Hey, Mike, it's possible that both Cleland and Nichol

were at or near the mussel farm

around the time that Bryce Fahey was taken there.

Nichol reckons he's got himself an alibi, but I'll check it out.

Got it.

Amy, tell Wes I'll wait in the car.

Mm-hmm.

- Liam. - G'day.

Ah, Wes Pullman, please.

Sorry, he's not available right now.

Um, excuse me.

PULLMAN: Detective Shepherd.

Off somewhere with Liam Keely?

Business lunch.

Then you're gonna be late. Sorry.

My time is money, Shepherd.

Mine isn't -- just precious. Take a seat.

Please.

I've just had an interesting conversation

with your solicitor across the hallway.

- How nice. - Not really.

He was obstructive, which is why we're gonna get a court order

to access his client Bryce Fahey's bank accounts.

Keeping yourself busy, I see.

And while we're at it, we'll get an order to access yours.

Would you like to speculate whether we'll find any payments

from your company to Bryce Fahey?

You'd have to be blind to miss them.

We used Bryce Fahey as a consultant from time to time,

and we paid him a fee for his time and expertise.

You're confirming that a fisheries officer

was moonlighting as a consultant

for a company he was charged with overseeing?

Well, I assumed Bryce was taking care of that side of it

with his employer.

Not my concern.

Show me the contract.

Oral.

Invoices detailing Bryce's work, payments made?

Might have been a bit dilatory there.

Have to get that sorted. And the GST.

Tell Inland Revenue.

And fraud squad.

NOEL: What do you think you're doing?

I'll have you for vexatious oppression.

Haven't seen that particular charge in the Crimes Act.

Maybe it's under "F" for "fisheries."

Or "B" for "bollocks."

Does your car always get stuck in first gear?

You drove it back in first gear?

[Chuckles] Got you again.

Some things can't be joked about, Sims.

What, boys and their cars?

Mm, I think they can.

What about the fact that Bryce Fahey

was on the take from Pullman?

Mm. Okay. That is not funny.

Chances are Bryce shredded the contents himself.

Wes Pullman was employing Fahey as a consultant.

He's completely open about it, brazen.

SIMS: Well, that's bribery and corruption in anyone's book.

SHEPHERD: Absolutely.

BREEN: What are you doing?

You just proved the guy's dodgy as heck.

Well, whatever else he is, Pullman's no mug.

In confessing to bribing Fahey,

he's eliminating himself from the murder inquiry.

No motive.

He had Bryce Fahey right where he wanted him,

in his back pocket.

Why would he want to kill him?

Do you think Dominic Nichol had any idea

that his boss did a deal with Bryce?

Unlikely.

Those kind of arrangements tend to work

on a need-to-know basis.

Which means he genuinely thought his job was under threat

from Bryce's investigations.

Which means he has motive.

Stopping a potential threat to his job.

Man under pressure.

SIMS: And he has a speargun.

SHEPHERD: Any more on Cleland?

Forensics have taken away a lot of bloody swabs

from Cleland's inflatable

but say they could possibly be from fish.

He's a fruitcake,

and he strongly suspected Bryce had been gotten to by Pullman.

Saw it as a betrayal of the cause.

Was he capable of murdering Bryce

to prevent a blight on God's work?

He does have that Old Testament fire and brimstone about him.

And the old bastard threatened to prosecute me.

- Really? What for? - Vexatious oppression.

Oh, phew. Is that all?

I thought it might have been for undersized "muscles"?

Okay, whoa. That's workplace bullying.

I'll get you counseling.

[Cellphone ringing]

Oh, yeah. I would throw those back.

- Don't. - [Laughs]

Mike Shepherd.

Detective. Jools Fahey.

I know it's late, but there's something I need to tell you.

Certainly. I'm listening.

Uh, it would suit me better if you could come to mine.

Okay. Sure.

[Car door opens, closes]

Thank goodness you've come, Detective.

You'll have one, Detective?

Mike.

Perhaps you'd better tell me what I'm here for.

I like a man who's up front.

So...

You won't stay with me

unless I provide you with some information.

If you need some company,

someone to talk to, Detective Sims --

I don't want you to think I'm trying to protect Dennis.

I didn't say that.

I'm simply not the sort of woman who blindly commits to one man.

I've always found one is never enough.

I'll take your word for it.

And there's something I need from you, actually.

An assurance.

Yes?

That all those papers you removed from Bryce's office

will be returned.

Of course.

And the book.

Sentimental value.

Bryce picked it up at a flea market.

One of the last things we did together.

You understand.

I should go.

[Door opens, closes]

Sims, I need you back at the office.

[Door closes]

You're practicing for a magic trick?

Hmm.

Magic would be good right now.

Jools had me 'round at her place.

Had you?

To tell me something.

I think she was putting the bite on me.

You think?

She says she's not a one-man woman.

Oh, poor old Dennis Buchanan.

Out with the lawyer and in with a cop.

It takes two to tango.

Or three in her case.

I need you to take notes on everything that was said.

Okay.

Can't wait.

There's something she's not telling us.

Something to do with this.

She asked for it back.

Drop it.

- Where? - Just drop it.

No.

Why are we doing this, again?

I found this in that book.

I closed it before I noted the page.

This is quite a big book.

Mm.

Again.

- Morning. - Hi, Mike.

Early start or late finish?

You casting aspersions on my morality?

Never. Just being neighborly.

Hey, uh, usual, thanks.

WOMAN: Coming up.

No, I just finished tai chi class.

It's good for the biorhythms.

Yeah, you should come along.

Ah, maybe when I'm not so busy.

Yeah, right.

Any luck with the freaky hand?

Not yet. About that --

The morning you found the hand,

did you see anyone else at the beach?

Any vehicles in the sand hills?

Nah.

But if you didn't want to be seen, it'd be easy enough.

You said they were protective of their pots, the Keelys.

Very protective, you said.

Yeah, like I said, I crossed them once,

snorkeling for kina and paua.

This was years ago, when the old man, Devil Des, was still alive.

Well, I come up with a full kete

to find myself staring down the shaft of a speargun.

Whoa!

Poaching our crays, eh? You little bastard.

No, just paua.

You show me.

I never forget a face or a name, Morehu.

I'll never forget the way he was leaning on the stern

and pointing his finger.

It's freaky.

- Had you taken his crays? - Nah.

But Keely holding the gun and threatening to use it,

I believed him all right.

I could see it in his mad, bad Keely eyes

that he'll pull the trigger.

Breen, someone here for you.

Mr. Alderston.

Ah.

Mr. Green.

I've remembered the color of that car.

When I was walking MacMillan on Saturday afternoon

down by the boat ramp, I saw these two men arguing.

NOEL: Saturday is my roster day, Bryce.

I mean, how can I conduct my duties without the proper craft?

- He called him Bryce? - Yes, he did.

And what did Bryce say?

Well, I couldn't quite hear

because he was facing away from me.

I think it was something about it being personal.

Personal use?!

All the more reason why this is completely unacceptable!

- Which car? - What?

You're describing two cars.

Which one is the same as the one that knocked you down?

Ah, well, now, the one that was hooked up to the trailer

was very light, so it wasn't that one, obviously.

- Obviously. - Yeah, obviously.

Um, but there was another one parked nearby

that was very similar.

And I'll tell you this -- Those two men were very angry.

And the car that ran me down was driven in anger.

Oh! [Grunts]

BREEN: And in your mind, it was silver?

ALDERSTON: Oh, yes, yes.

Or metallic blue. I often get those two confused.

But in this case I am absolutely sure.

Of what?

That it was one of those colors.

Edward Alderston recalls seeing Noel Cleland and Bryce Fahey

in an argument at the boat ramp Saturday afternoon.

What about?

His hearing-impaired version of events

suggests Bryce's trip was personal,

not fisheries related.

And that's about it.

Okay, interesting.

With that in mind...

The GPS data from Bryce's boat is back,

with a digital track of Bryce's boat's movements last weekend.

So Bryce's boat anchored here on Saturday night,

stayed there all night.

Then just before dawn on Sunday,

he received a call on his VHF radio and moved here.

He stayed there for an hour

and then returned to his original anchorage

for the rest of the day.

Then at 6:35 in the evening on Sunday,

he started drifting in this arc,

which basically corresponds to wind and current,

where it was spotted by a container ship on Thursday.

His radio was able to send a ship-to-shore distress signal,

but it never did.

So it all happened underwater

and Bryce never made it back on board his boat.

Bryce's boat was clean.

So whoever killed Bryce

took his body back on board their craft

then moved the body to Pullman's mussel farm,

then moved the cray pot with the hand to Brokenwood Beach.

What the hell was Bryce doing way out there?

Yeah, what was the attraction?

Who did he rendezvous with on Sunday morning?

If it was personal, Dennis and Jools were out there.

That's a long way to go for a threesome.

What if he didn't know about the arrangement?

Ah.

What's more personal than your wife having a ménage à trois

that you don't know about?

And look at these distances.

What this digital track shows us is that

whoever was involved in Bryce Fahey's demise

had serious oceangoing horsepower.

Which leaves two with oceangoing craft

capable of traveling those distances in that time frame.

Could Tommy Keely have been out there?

What's the French word for "foursome"?

I mean, is it worth talking to Buchanan again?

We need leverage.

Jools?

Ditto. We need something else.

Maybe the key is the boat.

Maybe -- Maybe the boats can tell us something

that their owners can't.

I don't mind rattling Tommy's cage again.

Provided I have some backup muscles.

Huh. Go for it.

[Book thuds]

Hmm.

That's more like it.

[Shutter clicks]

- [Metal clinking] - Oh!

Bugger.

[Whistles]

Just don't give him any hint

that his sister's been talking about their father's death.

You brought reinforcements. Who's the pencil neck?

Detective Constable Breen.

This is Tommy Keely.

Takes two of you to tell me who stole my cray pots?

Same bastard as knocked over Bryce Fahey, right?

We need to know your movements last Sunday, Tommy.

Why would I put a chopped hand in my own cray pot?

Where were you?

Here. Ma and Liza will back me up.

I'm sure they will,

but we'll need to download the data from your GPS system

to confirm where your vessel was.

So the word of my mother and my sister isn't good enough?

Under the circumstances, no.

Under what circumstances?

Ma and Liza are family. Of course they'll back you.

Because they're family?

I wouldn't jump to conclusions, Detectives.

Isn't that what they say?

Why don't you ask me who my enemies are,

who's pointing the evil finger at me, eh?

Who is your enemy, Tommy?

You never told me your feelings about Bryce Fahey.

Wouldn't waste feelings on that loser,

especially now that he's carked it.

I told you -- Pullman's pulling the strings.

He's got everyone in his pocket.

Who's in his pocket, Tommy?

You know the story of Cain and Abel?

Why don't you ask my brother who speaks no evil

how he can live off quarter of a share of our cray quota

and we can scarcely make a living

off the other three-quarters, eh?

So who's Cain and who's Abel?

Hmm.

Why don't you bugger off?

Arrest me or get off my property.

That was enlightening.

Something happened there.

[Vehicle doors close]

[Engine turns over]

Oh, Christ.

Call for backup.

- Eh? - Now.

Comms from BDC 2.

We need backup to the Keely compound, Greenwood Road.

Who are you calling?

I hope I'm wrong.

Oh, you bloody fool! Now you've set him off!

- [Telephone ringing] - Get off!

You stupid bitch!

Liza.

He's got a knife.

Liza, where in the house are you?

You've got to stop him!

You've got to, or he'll kill her too!

When will you understand who runs this family?!

What did you think would happen, eh?!

[Grunts]

[Glass breaks]

You've really been asking for this.

Haven't you, Sis.

LIZA: Please stop.

TOMMY: You stupid bitch!

I wouldn't have picked you for a bloody nark, Sis.

LIZA: Don't hurt me.

Drop the knife!

How about you drop the gun?

- Jesus, Tommy! - Shut up!

Drop the knife, Tommy.

Don't think I won't!

Tommy, you'll put the knife down.

I don't think so, pencil neck.

I do!

Drop the knife, Tommy.

On the ground!

Hands behind your head!

I'm so sorry, Mrs. Keely.

You make sure my girl's okay. You owe us that much.

[Sighs]

Two sugars.

Tommy knew from something you said

that Ma and me had been talking to you.

Liza, I am sorry,

but I can guarantee Tommy will be charged with assault

and won't get police bail.

You guys always get it wrong.

You could put him away for a lot longer if you want to.

What do -- What do you mean?

What you said on the phone.

You've got to stop him!

You've got to, or he'll kill her too!

Who did Tommy kill, Liza?

Hey, he will go away for a long time.

And we will make you and your mum safe.

Did Tommy kill Bryce Fahey?

No.

No, not him.

Liam told me that it was Tommy who called your father

from the phone box in the club car park.

Do you believe that too?

[Telephone rings]

Hello.

Dad.

Dad, Tommy said he's got word at the club there's poachers out.

[Engine turns over]

LIZA: Aaah!

It was Tommy.

I wanted to tell you.

For God's sake, shut up.

- Did you have a falling-out? - Who?

You and Bryce. Over the gold.

Don't be ridiculous.

Well, isn't that what thieves do?

A falling-out of thieves?

It's not what you think.

So it wasn't that easy, that grubby?

You didn't murder your husband

for his share of the gold that he had recovered?

No! We wouldn't do that!

Bryce had been looking for that ship for a long time.

Jools! Jools, just...

"On the 23rd of December 1940, a German raider, the Orion,

sank the 13,000-ton freighter the Doncaster Star

somewhere off the northeastern coast of New Zealand.

The ship took down with her the crew, the ship's cat,

and 590 gold bars,"

including [Metal clinking]

[Thuds] this.

On Sunday morning, you radioed your location here.

Bryce left the site of the wreck

and brought this to you, right?

JOOLS: He didn't want it on the fisheries boat.

There's all sorts coming and going down at that boat ramp.

BUCHANAN: We were about to alert the police

that we'd found the wreck, so consider yourself notified.

You had every opportunity to report the wreck and didn't.

Salvage law in this country

is a vague and uncertain mess these days.

I don't care about the Doncaster Star.

I want to know why you went to the site of the wreck

and murdered Bryce Fahey.

JOOLS: Oh, my God! No, we didn't. Dennis!

We couldn't do that even if we'd wanted to.

Really?

Bryce wouldn't tell us the coordinates!

We still don't know where the wreck is!

Yeah, he was paranoid about it.

He said someone else knew about it, that we had to be careful.

Did he say who it was?

No.

How worried?

BUCHANAN: Afraid of.

I suggest, you find that man, you've found your murderer.

Why didn't you report or notice Bryce's absence?

Look, the arrangement was that we were to stay where we were,

and Bryce would ferry the gold to us each day.

You were expecting him Monday?

BUCHANAN: He didn't show. He didn't answer his VHF.

And you thought what?

Silly Bryce had been having some jealousy issues, actually.

SHEPHERD: Right.

BUCHANAN: We thought he'd gone home in a huff,

so we came in on the Wednesday.

Come this way, Liza.

TOMMY: Is that you, Sis?

Eh?

Hey, it's okay.

Liza?

Constable, can you show these two out?

Mike, Liza Keely is making a full statement

regarding her father's murder.

And Tommy Keely is in the cells.

Could you grab the maritime chart out of Room 2?

Sure.

And Sims?

Good work.

[Door opens]

So we've reopened and closed the Keely case,

but we're still no closer to finding Bryce's murderer.

Dennis Buchanan and Jools Fahey

say that someone else knew about the site of the wreck,

someone who Bryce was afraid of.

Well, it can't have been Tommy, as evil as he is --

He was with Liza that Sunday.

Unless she's lying, but why?

If we add degrees and minutes to these numbers,

they turn out to be coordinates.

They're all eliminated, crossed out, except the last one...

...which marks the position of the wreck of the Doncaster Star.

It's also exactly where Bryce was anchored on Sunday night

when he was murdered.

By someone that knew the position of the wreck

and wanted the bullion for themselves.

Someone who would have been...

...very protective of their patch.

Ma Keely?

No?

[Cellphone ringing]

Mike.

When Des busted you for poaching...

It was only pauas and mussels, Mike.

God's honor.

You said he was leaning on the stern and pointing at you.

Yeah, I told you -- the finger of death.

So he wasn't holding the speargun?

- Nah. - Who was holding it?

I told you, I looked in his eyes,

and I knew he could use it.

- Tommy? - Nah.

- What? - Come on.

[Engine turns over]

[Engine revving]

[Tires screeching]

- How can you not love this? - No cassette player.

Ugh!

And the shockies are stuffed.

So Bryce Fahey was murdered because he discovered the wreck

and was taking the gold.

[Muffled] No! No!

Liam Keely killed Bryce,

then tried to cover his tracks with a plan to implicate

the biggest maritime businesses in town,

both of whom he knew were pissed off at Bryce.

By planting the body at the mussel farm

and the severed hand in the cray pot,

he pointed the finger, so to speak,

at both Wes Pullman and Tommy Keely.

- His own brother. - Yeah.

Nice day for it.

What do you want?

Bit of a chat.

About Bryce Fahey.

Yeah?

You can bugger off.

Now, now.

Back off!

Put your hands above your heads.

SHEPHERD: You've only got one shot with that thing.

I'll take whoever moves first.

Come on. Who fancies your chances?

Not me.

- You? - Nope.

Nah.

SHEPHERD: No heroes here, Liam.

- You going somewhere? - What do you think?

Forget something else?

Bastards!

Now, I hate boats, I really do,

but I've heard about the fellowship of the high seas.

You bastard.

I'd just as soon bugger off back to dry land

and leave you stuck out here in the sea lane

with no propulsion and a storm brewing overnight.

But these old sea dogs say that's not kosher.

[The Warratahs' "Blue Town" plays]

So can we help you with anything?

A lift home? A tow?

SHEPHERD: A warm cuppa?

Have a chat about things. Murder.

That sort of thing.

[Speargun thuds]

That's the ticket, Liam.

Now raise your hands above your head.

Good man.

You can drop them.

Just checking to see you've still got both of them.

♪ What will the weather and the supper be ♪

♪ Out in your blue town? ♪

♪ Now all the little pieces ♪

♪ Are falling into place ♪

♪ I hang the washing on the line ♪

♪ Try and make everything clean ♪

♪ That was always the hardest ♪

♪ Always the hardest part ♪