All language subtitles for 302 - Murder and the Maiden

Ripped By mstoll

Ahh!

The bracing scent
of aviation fuel and grease.

What happened to that one, miss?

Gravity I'd say, Dot.

Ah!

Group Captain Lyle Compton!

Phryne!

Oh!

This is my assistant,
Dorothy Williams.

- Ah. Pleasure, Miss Williams.
- Hello.

Are you interested in planes?
I could take you for a spin.

Oh, no, thank you.
I mean, I am interested, but...

But mainly in how they stay up.

Ah, well, perhaps a tour
of the base, then.

As you can see,
our boys are hard at it,

preparing for another
air show on Saturday.

Help our battered reputation.

Yes, the newspapers certainly
made a meal of your last mishap.

Yes, well at least
no one was killed.

Pity it's such a dangerous game,
flying.

Not half as dangerous
as that machine, I'll bet.

How fast?

Oh, with this tailwind,

I'd hazard a guess
at 132 miles per hour.

Prove it.

What was our previous best?

117, Colchester Airfield, 1919.

Dot.

Miss, no!

Watch the planes, Dot.

- Hold on tight.
- If you insist.

Whoo-hoo!

On your way, then.

Full rigor mortis.

It must have happened
last night.

Perhaps she was strangled, sir.

No marks on the windpipe.

Did those boys recognize her?

No, they don't think
she's a local.

No purse.
Not even a coat.

Nothing to identify her.

Just a scrap of paper
and a set of keys.

Sir.

That's a serious boot print.

And where around here would
we find a serious pair of boots?

Now, this plane was a favorite
with Wing Commander Harry Cobby,

lead ace with
the Australian Flying Corps.

Flew 29 victories
in less than a year.

Distinguished Service Order,

Distinguished Flying Cross
and two bars.

They're a tricky lot.

Union blokes, not military.

Wouldn't trust them
to keep a kite airborne.

Were you a pilot
before you retired, Mr. Greaves?

Ah, no, no.

I'm just happy to be part of it
these days.

But once flying's in your blood,
that's it.

Nothing like it.

Up above the clouds,
sun shining.

Like being in heaven.

I'm sure it is.

The papers practically
accused the mechanics union

of sabotaging that plane.

Well, somebody did.

The fuel
was deliberately contaminated.

Is that why you called me in?

It gets worse, I'm afraid.

One of my men failed to report
for duty this morning --

Flight Lieutenant James Manning,

the officer who walked away
from that wreck,

hell-bent on finding out
who was responsible.

You think he asked
too many questions?

I hope not.

And another onslaught
of bad publicity

could be the death of us.

This needs a --
A delicate touch.

Squadron Leader Willis Jones
is organizing our air show.

A challenging exercise
in public relations, I gather.

Yes, apart from
the technicalities.

We have other flyers,
but Manning is a one-off.

When did you notice he was gone?

After formation practice
yesterday.

Anything missing
from his quarters?

His uniform was gone.
His wallet.

Everything else is untouched.

Is there anyone
he was particularly close to

who might know
why he disappeared?

The police to see you, sir.

Jack, what on earth
are you doing here?

Same thing as you, I imagine,
Miss Fisher.

Detective Inspector
Jack Robinson.

Group Captain Lyle Compton.
That'll be all, Jones.

Group Captain,
a woman has been found dead

near your perimeter fence.

Dead?

I was aware
there was an incident.

- You didn't know?
- No.

Uh, Compton and I
are old friends.

I was here on another matter.

I'll need a list of names
of any personnel

who left the base
in the last 24 hours.

No one was authorized
to leave the base.

I can tell you that right now.

- What about unauthorized?
- Phryne.

Who was this woman?

We don't know, as yet.

This has no connection
with the air force.

If I find a connection?

There'll be
a thorough investigation.

Keep me informed, Inspector.

You'll find me at the morgue,
Miss Fisher.

I can't promise to keep
all your secrets, Compton.

Not if it stands between Jack

and bringing a murderer
to justice.

Well, at least be discreet.

Please.

Keep me posted.

Dottie!

What -- What are you doing here?

I'm here
on official business, Hugh.

Already?

I know Miss Fisher
has a nose for trouble,

but this is a military base
with guns and men.

It could be very dangerous.

- The war's over, Hugh.
- I know.

And sometimes Miss Fisher
needs me to do dangerous things,

like be a hostage,

or pretend to be
a racing-car driver,

or even go up in a plane.

What?
You're terrified of planes.

Collins.

Sir.

Jack, wait!

You know I can't resist
a murder -- if it is a murder.

Found these by the body.

The missing airman's
service number.

I think I've found
your connection.

It was a chilly night to be out
without a coat.

Severe dehydration and asphyxia.

My bet's some kind of poison.

I found that
inside her clothing.

I presume
it was around her neck.

Those keys.

She had better access
to the air force than I do.

Perhaps Flight Lieutenant
James Manning gave her access.

Perhaps they were lovers.

Or maybe just old friends.

I met Compton back in England
at the end of the war.

I flew a couple of low-key
missions with him, that's all.

No lighter
and only one unlit cigarette.

But a serious smoker.

Missions, as in intelligence?

Not officially.

"Flight... earth...
eyes turned skyward...

have been and there...
will always long..."

A love letter?

Sounds very literary.

And very aeronautical.

So Captain Courageous
is entrusting Mata Hari

with another secret mission?

Compton was a long time ago,
Jack, and it wasn't like that.

Well, yes, it was, but...

You know what it's like
when you think life is fleeting

and you might die at any moment?

I always feel like that
when I'm with you.

Call with any details
that might help Missing Persons.

Her murderer
seems to have made off

with anything that might
establish who she was.

But perhaps
not where she's been.

4 1/2 pence fare,
nine sections,

so, one, two, three...

Where would I find
the headquarters

of the Victorian Amalgamated
Mechanics Association?

The European Club.
That's where you'll find them.

Hobnobbing with
Bert's red-ragger mates.

If my memory serves me,
that's somewhere on Sydney Road?

Sydney Road, Brunswick.

And we know that James Manning
was nosing around them,

trying to find out
who sabotaged his plane.

Perhaps that's where he met
this mystery woman.

Does that match our ticket, Dot?

Yes, miss.
This ticket would get you there.

Sounds like you ladies
need an escort

to the wrong side of town.

Any excuse to see you know who.

- Who?
- Who?

Some Russian sheila
he's soft on.

She works in the cloak room.

She hemmed me trousers,
that's all.

Don't mention Mr. Butler.
Or the stock exchange.

And don't say
you send out your laundry.

I doubt your comrades will care

who washes
my Herminie Cadolle lingerie.

- And don't talk like a toff.
- Sorry.

You can get out.
You're no use to anyone.

I'm just saying that this --
This is Australia, not Russia!

So now you've got a problem
with the revolution?

What are you, a bloody idiot?

You think a whole bunch of words
is gonna change the world?

Why don't you
hand your card in now?

Go on.
Throw it on the table.

Mr. Higgins?

My boss needs a little help.

All right.

Miss Fisher.

Rupert Higgins.
Pleased to meet you.

Albert here claims that
as far as capitalist bosses go,

you're not too bad.

Noblesse oblige.

I do my best from on high,
Mr. Higgins.

Like you, I'm sure.

This couple
you want to know about.

Yes.

This is James Manning.

- Military.
- Air force.

Though I doubt he would have
shown off his uniform in here.

And I'm not sure
that they were a couple.

He's not familiar.

What about the woman?
Tall, dark-haired, late 20s.

There was a young woman

that started coming to our
meetings a few weeks ago.

Do you remember her name?

That's another thing
people don't show off in here.

We've been raided
too many times.

Seditious publications.

I remember she did pick up
a few pamphlets afterwards.

If it's the woman you're after,
she seemed smart, educated.

So she was alone?

That's why I noticed her.

This isn't the kind of place
frequented by single women,

apart from
a few remarkable exceptions.

Why are you trying
to track her down?

That's the problem.
We're not.

She was found in bushland
early this morning.

Suspected murder.

No, she never
say her name.

I can't believe she is killed.

Tatiana, meet Miss Fisher.

Hello.
Tatiana Feoderoff.

I know this woman,
but she is not my friend.

She is my customer.

And she was here last night.

Yes, I see her but...

Well, I know she looks fancy,
but you can trust her.

I see her with a man from here.

Higgins.
You know him?

Go on, love.

On the stairs.

He did not see me, but he had
her arm like this -- strong.

Was he friendly or angry?

They were whispering.
I could not hear.

But from their faces,
it was important.

Thank you, Miss Feoderoff.
You've been most helpful.

Please, don't say I tell you.

Don't worry.
We'll keep it under our hats.

What's that?

May I have that coat --
The dusty rose one?

It's her missing coat.

Yes.
Yes, she left it here.

This is to fix the inside.
Here.

Thank you.

I may need an expert opinion.

The fabric is excellent quality,
a silk wool jersey,

so the whole ensemble
would have been very expensive.

If I could examine it
more closely,

I might find
a dressmaker's mark.

Of course.
Collins.

I also found something
in the coat pocket,

but you're going to have to
play nicely.

Why aren't you at the RAAF,
wing-walking or something?

Now, that won't score you
any points.

I've managed to score a few
without you.

European Club --
Haunt of militant unionists,

including
the Amalgamated Mechanics

and committed red-ragger
Rupert Higgins.

The logical deduction with
the union trouble at the RAAF.

Higgins' file -- "belonging to
an unlawful association" charge,

dismissed 10 years ago.

Sedition charge still pending.

Do you think our victim

was passing James Manning
information?

Could explain what she was doing
near the base, with his keys.

What about next of kin
on Manning's military file?

You should be impressed

I managed to get
his service number

before Compton whisked it away.

You know, you and Compton
are very similar, Jack.

I think you'd like him.

I don't think one
necessarily follows the other.

All right, full points for that.

A match for the love letter.

I was hoping we might try
that new pie cart for lunch.

Were you?

I know we've got a few things
to settle before our big day.

- Like my job.
- Like your job.

But I thought we could also
talk about settling on a date.

So maybe you could
worry about that

and leave the investigating
to Miss Fisher.

And maybe you can try
that pie cart on your own.

I've suddenly lost my appetite.

Dot.

Here's the cast
of that boot print, sir.

It's a big one.
At least size 12.

Possible match
for a flying boot.

In need of repair.

If that's the print
you found near the body,

I doubt it belongs
to James Manning.

How do you know?

The only other thing I managed
to glean from his file

was his height -- 5'6".

Hardly a giant.

No, a men's shoe size 8, 9 --
10 at the most.

So we're looking for
a tall airman, sir.

Well, that whittles it down
to about 85% of the air force.

Bring the car around,
Collins.

We're here
to see Captain Compton.

I have my orders, sir.
Miss Fisher only.

Surely the group captain
didn't say

I couldn't be escorted
by my fiancé?

Such a masculine environment's
overwhelming for a single woman.

Let me check for you.

Oh, there's no need
to escort us. I know the way.

Admit it, Jack.

Being a woman
definitely has its assets.

Well, I appreciate your assets.

Now if we can hurry up
this break-in?

I'm not breaking anything.

I'm merely taking
a circuitous route.

Keys.

Numbers would have made this
a lot easier.

Suggest that
to your captain friend.

Eureka.

- Third time lucky.
- Fourth.

Must you be so contrary?

James Manning's locker.

James Manning and Willis Jones.

Can I help you?

Miss Fisher.

Detective Inspector
Jack Robinson,

meet Squadron Leader
Willis Jones.

I've told Miss Fisher everything
I know about James Manning.

I'm also interested
in another matter.

A woman found dead this morning
outside the base.

I saw the police car.

We have reason to believe that
Flight Lieutenant James Manning

knew the dead woman.

What's this got to do with me?

Your boots are a match
for a very particular footprint

we found beside the body.

You need
your right heel repaired.

What?

You also need to tell us more

about your relationship
with James Manning.

Where did you get that?

Yes, Miss Fisher.
Where did you get that?

As you were, Jones.

You two.
With me.

We have good reason to believe

both men
were at the crime scene.

I'm not interested
in speculation.

I am.
What about a love triangle?

I can't imagine that.

Well, it's not that difficult.
One woman, two men.

It has been known
to lead to conflict.

We need to conduct
a more extensive search.

I'm sorry, but I can't allow
a civilian search

on military grounds.

Then how do you expect me
to conduct my investigation?

Inspector, I appreciate
you have a job to do

and a public to answer to,
but so do I.

And at this point in history,

I believe my position
to be the more precarious.

I do hope you understand.

On another matter, Phryne.

A personal one.

There could never be
a love triangle.

Willis and James would never
fight over any woman.

Lovers?

I have no proof, of course,
but if it were to get out,

it would be the last straw
for the RAAF and for me.

Even so, both of them had
something to do with that woman,

and if you genuinely want me to
find out what happened to James,

then you have to give me
free access to this place.

Greaves.

Please escort Miss Fisher
on a full tour of the base.

Wherever she wants to go,
whatever she needs to know.

Hello, Hugh.

I've come to return
your evidence.

How are you going
with that postmark?

Ah, good.
I'm nearly there.

The town
definitely starts with a "C,"

and it's nine letters long.

Might help to narrow it down
to the suburbs of Perth.

And why would I do that?

Bon Marche.
Perth, Western Australia.

Yes, that -- that might help,

but it's still not the answer,
is it?

Stick to the whole of Australia,
then, Hugh.

Can't be easy, a military man in
charge of a unionized workforce.

Oh, they all toed the line
well enough,

until the rumors started.

About Willis and James?

I wasn't the only one
who saw him

sneak out of Willis' quarters
at all hours.

Moment he arrived,
he started work on Willis.

- Preyed on him.
- So Willis lost respect?

Then that plane came down,

and James pointed the finger
at the union.

What did he accuse them of,
shoddy work or party politics?

Both. And it didn't make
Willis' life any easier.

Do you think Willis will be able
to pull off this air show?

Without a doubt.

He's a better flier
than James ever was.

He can loop-de-loop
and barrel-roll like a bird.

Does Willis smoke?

No. Never.

Mac was right, Jack.
She was poisoned.

By her own cigarettes.

I found that at the back
of Willis Jones' desk.

The packet's a match

for the cigarette you found
near the victim's body.

Except that cigarette
was harmless.

The cigarette found
in the packet contained ricin.

Blood samples have confirmed
it -- ricinus communis.

From castor oil?

From the beans of the
castor seed plant, to be exact.

The oil itself isn't poisonous.

I'm impressed you're even close.

The Americans and British
were experimenting

with chemical weapons
towards the end of the war,

until the Hague Convention
banned them.

Ricin's deadly.

Mm, just a few grains.
Particularly if inhaled.

But this hasn't been touched.

Well, the killer
must have laced

other cigarettes in the packet.

Doesn't work fast.
It can take days.

A perfect way to be absent
at the time of death.

It's for you, Inspector.

Your constable seems to have
a lead on our mystery woman.

Virginia Forbes went missing
from Claremont six years ago.

Six years?

Worked as a nurse
at the military hospital.

Might explain the bandage
in her handbag.

Might explain more than that.

James was transferred
to Melbourne

from the Claremont Air Base
in 1923.

That must have been
where James and Virginia met.

But if what you're telling me
about James is true,

whatever happened between them
wasn't romantic.

Well, you see now why Compton
needs to be discreet.

No, I don't see.

A woman is dead,

and he's asking you to withhold
information from me.

If he won't cooperate with the
police, I'll go over his head.

You seem determined to make this
a personal matter.

And you seem determined
to make it a military one.

I don't understand why you
have to dance to his tune.

Excuse me, Miss Fisher.

Mr. Butler just called
to let you know

that Group Captain Compton would
like to see you, urgently.

Thank you, Hugh.

I dance to no one's tune, Jack.

Shandy for the lady.

Bert, I can't speak with you.
Go, please.

Why not?

That lady, your boss.

Comrade Higgins says
she's with the police.

He thinks I say bad things
about him.

What? You only told the truth.
I'll set him straight.

No, Bert, please.

There are things
you do not know.

That bastard Higgins.

You'll be next.

Some papers went missing
three nights ago from here,

from the party.

Nobody knows who to trust.

Well, Higgins can trust you,
and I'll tell him that.

What does it matter?

This woman, if she is dead,
she is dead.

I don't want trouble.

No trouble.
Just a word. Or two.

Listen to me, Higgins.

It's one thing sorting out some
pansy right-winger's politics,

but there's no need
to touch a lady.

- No, please!
- Oi, Bert!

Miss Feoderoff
needs to appreciate our --

She needs you
to leave her alone.

- Calm down, Bert.
- Please.

You could lose your party
membership for this, Johnson.

And you could lose
an entire set of choppers

if you go near her again.

Stop!
Or I tell everyone what you do.

Come on, love.
You just quit.

- What'd she just say?
- It's Russian for "bastard."

No, it's Russian for "peasant."

Don't worry.
We'll find you another job.

Plenty of places that would be
lucky to have someone like you.

Thank you, Bert, but I have some
things at the club I must get.

First thing tomorrow.

Then I must go
far away from here.

I am illegal.
I have no passport.

Miss Fisher'll sort that.

She's got friends
in the police force.

You can trust her.

I trust no one.

Except you.

Greaves tells me you
found evidence in Willis' desk?

A packet of cigarettes.

Willis doesn't smoke.

That's what
made me curious.

They match the cigarette found
beside Virginia Forbes' body.

Our victim has a name now.

Well, your inspector
will be happy with that.

Don't you start, Compton.

You two
can squabble over demarcation.

I'm interested
in the big picture.

And how does Jack
fit into your picture?

He's not your usual style.

I don't have a usual style.
I think I'm admirably versatile.

Ah, so I am right.
About Jack.

Too much ballast for lift off.

- Yours or his?
- Probably both.

Tempt you with a drink?

Nothing like a drop of brandy
at 10,000 feet

to warm the heart.

Is that what you're up to?

Remember Madagascar?

God, yes.
How could I forget?

It's a miracle
we survived that landing.

And then the cyclone
raged for days.

Nothing to do but sit it out.

Though we did manage to think of
a few other things.

Ah, the good old days.

How I've missed
the thrill of them.

There must be a connection
between the three of them.

If it wasn't romantic,
what was it?

Not sure what a red-ragger
would have in common

with a couple
of RAAF pilots, sir.

Which suggests their rendezvous
were clandestine.

But it wasn't
a very private place to meet.

There was an old sentry box
just inside the base.

- Bring the car around, Collins.
- Yes, sir.

Flight lieutenant.

These have to be
James Manning's.

Candy's crystals?
Antiseptic?

Why would he take
his clothes off out here?

Oh.

Get to the car.

Go! Go!
Take those!

Go that way!

Go!

Hey! You!

Oi!

These sentries will fire,
Constable.

Put your hands above your head.

Now.

Get in the car, Hugh.

Drop your weapon.

Don't shoot!
Don't shoot!

Don't shoot!

Hold your positions, men!

Inspector Robinson,
this is trespass!

We were just leaving.

Not with military property,
you're not.

Take it up
with the chief commissioner.

Get to the car, Collins.

Stand down, men.

Jack, wait!

We were just reminiscing!

Where did you find those?

And what on earth...

It's a police matter,
Miss Fisher.

It's none of your concern.

You keep those eyes
turned skyward.

Eyes turned skyward.

That's it.

The note
by Virginia Forbes' body.

The love letter is a quote
from Leonardo da Vinci.

I think I might have found it.
Is this it?

"Once you have tasted flight,
you" --

Yes!

"Once you have tasted flight,

you will forever walk the earth
with your eyes turned skyward,

for there you have been,

and there you will always long
to return."

How lovely.

A snifter, miss?

Desperately!

Like Mr. Greaves said.
Like being in heaven.

Except poor Leonardo
never got to fly.

Do you think Virginia Forbes
could have been an aviatrix?

That, my dear Dot,
is a very good question.

Mr. Butler, get me a couple
of small, flat cushions.

And Dot, a long bandage
from the medicine cabinet.

I'll meet you upstairs
in my smalls.

Straight as a celery stick,
miss.

Well, except for your...

Oh.

Nothing a DeBevoise bandeau
wouldn't fix.

I should have picked up on her
face being so heavily powdered.

And this will explain
the Condy's crystals, Inspector.

A strong solution will both
darken and roughen the skin.

Meet Flight Lieutenant
James Manning,

also known as Virginia Forbes.

She swore she'd find a way to
join the air force, and she did.

By assuming the identity of
Flight Lieutenant James Manning,

who was admitted
to the Perth hospital

where Virginia was nursing.

The real James Manning
was committed to a sanatorium.

But Ginny knew

he'd been about to be taking up
a posting in Melbourne.

So she stole his identity papers
and doctored the medical report

to say he was fit for duty.

You've got to admire
her ingenuity.

And an exceptional aviatrix,
by all accounts.

Goggles and God help you.

That was Ginny.

Did you know about her forays
into the Communist Party?

I knew she was fired up

and that she suspected someone
in the unions.

She said she had found out
who was behind the sabotage.

- Any names?
- No.

But she said she'd befriended
someone at the club

and was paying them
to find her proof.

A Russian girl.

She promised me she would stop
as soon as she'd found it.

We know you were with her
when she died.

She came back frantic
that night.

She was beside herself.

She was sweating.
She...

She couldn't breathe.

There was no time
to go for any help.

She died in my arms.

So you removed anything
that might identify her

and left her there.

What were you doing
with the cigarette packet?

I found it in your office.

I don't know.
I...

I didn't know what to make of
how she died.

Did you know they were poisoned?

No, I had no idea.

Thank you.
That'll be all.

We may need
to speak with you again.

We need to hold on to that.

He may be lying.

Rupert Higgins could have
doctored the cigarette.

Whether Willis murdered Ginny
with these or not,

why would he hold on to this?

And why is he still
so interested in it?

We may need a Russian
to help us find out.

I don't reckon they'll be happy
to see any of us back in there.

How important is this bag,
anyway?

I must have it.
It is sentimental.

Behind the counter
there is a loose floorboard.

- You just --
- He knows, love.

You heard her.

You can't just leave after this.

Let me help you.

There is one way.

Well, name it.
Anything.

I become a new person.
A new name.

With you, Bert.

Tatiana Feoderoff,
will you be my wife?

- No.
- Come back with the bag.

My bag!

What's in that bloody bag?

Now perhaps you'd like to
tell us who you really are.

This passport's a fake.
It's a good one but a fake.

You told me you didn't have one.

I am Tatiana Krasnaya.

When did you come to Australia?

- After the revolution.
- How well did you know Ginny?

She saw me at the club tearing
one of Higgins' pamphlets.

So she tells me she knows
they are lies too.

- Then I tell her everything.
- About Russia?

About my brothers and sisters.

All killed in the revolution.

Higgins says they are criminals,
but they are only children.

But Ginny asked you to do
a lot more than just her sewing,

didn't she, Tatiana?

You made a deal.

She said she would save me

if I steal from Higgins
what she wants.

- A report to the Comintern.
- Yes.

She will tell me the day,
to fly me to somewhere safe.

To a new life.

She promised me.

This outlines plans
for further sabotage

at the RAAF air show
this Saturday.

This is definitely
the safest place for you

right now, Miss Krasnaya,
but I need your help.

I speak a lot more Russian
than I can read.

Our meeting place.

is "Tuesday, 4:00."

That's today.

And
is "Firebird."

The Russian equivalent
of the phoenix.

I need to make an urgent phone
call to stop an act of treason.

Krasnaya.
What kind of name is that?

My father
was General Anton Krasny.

He was an advisor
to the White Army,

against the Bolsheviks.

So that cock-and-bull story
about you being illegal

and having to get married
was just a con job?

You're a bloody white Russian!

Bert, I was a child.
I knew nothing.

I thought
I would be safe with you.

You are a good man, Bert.

You are the kind of man
any woman would come to love.

Willis must have known.

That's why he kept
the cigarette packet.

And those map coordinates --
1463, here.

The Gowrie Park Airfield.

Flying off into the wild blue
yonder seems more appealing

than facing a court-martial
for accessory to fraud.

Or perhaps honoring
his dying lover's last wish.

This report isn't signed.

There's no proof Higgins
was behind the sabotage.

Which is why Tatiana needs to
keep that rendezvous

with Willis this afternoon.

And why Rupert Higgins
needs to find out about it.

A stakeout?

Preferably with full cooperation
from the air force.

I'll leave that part to you.

- We'd better move fast.
- As always.

I'll put out word
at the European Club.

G'day, gents.

Got a special tip
for Rupert Higgins.

- Can you pass it on for me?
- Will do.

I think that's everything, miss.

Your pistol's been repaired,

and there's
a supply of ammunition

should you require it.

Thank you, Mr. B.

Are you sure I can't do
anything else, miss?

No, thank you, Dot.

I know how terrified you are
of leaving the ground.

I would never forgive myself
if anything happened to you.

I wish I felt the same way
about flying

as Mr. Greaves does.

He thinks flying's
like being in heaven.

But he was stick in a factory
in Avonmouth for the whole war.

Avonmouth's where they made
mustard gas during the war.

The CWS?

Chemical Weapons Services,
that's right.

This is highly unorthodox,
Inspector --

Police and air force
joint maneuvers.

We know who's maneuvered us,
don't we, Captain?

Yes, well, she always was
a wild child.

I can see the taxicab, sir.

How are you doing there,
Miss Krasnaya?

Could not
pick the difference.

Unless someone
asked me to hem their trousers.

- Dot, you're in charge.
- Yes, miss.

Here comes Willis now.
Right on time.

I told the air vice-marshal

we were doing
extraordinary maneuvers.

With Miss Fisher involved,

I'm sure we can be guaranteed
of that.

Do you think Higgins
got the message, sir?

We'll soon find out.

Wish me luck.

This plan going to work?

We have to wait for them
to make the first move.

There's a black
motorcar approaching.

Get ready.

They're right behind you.

Aah!

Get down!

There's another gunman.
Let's go.

Go!

ls Miss Fisher all right?

Yeah, yeah.
They missed her.

Take cover, Collins!

I've got him, miss.

Cec, give me a hand!

Easy, mate.

- Bert!
- Yeah!

Drop it!
Get on the ground!

On the ground!
Get on the ground!

I'll get you, Miss Fisher!

Get away!

Happy now you've caught
another red for the government?

You won't be locked up
for your politics, Higgins.

You'll be locked up because
you're a murderous thug.

How's Squadron Leader Jones
doing?

Have you finished with him?

Not yet, Captain.

We just need a statement
about Rupert Higgins

and the relationship
he was having

with the woman who was posing
as James Manning.

I assume you'll charge
Higgins with murder.

The air force
will most certainly

be pressing charges of sabotage.

A woman?
James was a woman?

Virginia Forbes.

And Rupert Higgins was guilty
on many fronts.

But he didn't murder her.

Did he, Mr. Greaves?

Ricin-coated bullets.

Produced experimentally
at Avonmouth Factory,

where you worked during the war.

Later banned, and yet there they
were, sitting in your locker.

I didn't know he was a woman.

And yet you laced
his cigarettes,

knowing he would take days
to die,

and there were
enough enemies at play

for you to hide behind.

I-I thought he was after Willis.

Everybody thought that.

Even you.

But you turned a blind eye.

Even let him be
the air-show ace.

Someone like that.
Someone so depraved.

And forget the union.

Manning was going to bring down
the RAAF all on his own.

Somebody had to do something.

Ginny knew it was dangerous,
impersonating an officer.

But it was the only way
she could see.

When I tried to warn her
off the unions,

she said she had no choice.

She would do anything
for the air force.

Group Captain Compton ordered
her to find out the truth,

and she said she was
going to see it through.

And she did.

I think she loved me.

But she loved flying more.

I thought you said pursuing the
union was James Manning's idea?

It was, originally.

Then I ordered him
to follow through with it.

Why did you not tell me?

I couldn't be seen to condone
what James was doing.

He was spying.

And you were keeping up
appearances -- with me.

Well, I'm not
in Madagascar anymore.

I have responsibilities.

What a shame.

Dottie.

Hugh.

- I, uh --
- I...

I want you to know that I only
said I was going up in a plane

because you didn't think
I could.

Well, I'm still glad you didn't.

But if Miss Fisher wanted me to,
I would have --

Even if I screamed
the whole way, or shut my eyes,

or fainted before
we even left the ground.

I know.
I-l know.

Because you're brave.
And you're smart.

I never would have found
Claremont without your help.

You're smart
and you're beautiful

and you're brave, and...

...sometimes it scares me
to death.

I just want to be the one
to choose what I do.

It's my job.

Well, I guess I'm going to
have to find a way

of being brave about that too.

So, what about Saturday
the 14 of September, 1929?

Sounds perfect.

Two arrests in one day.

Murder and treason.

This calls for a celebration.

Well, I still have a report
to write

for the chief commissioner
about a missing Russian émigré

due to give evidence
at Rupert Higgins' trial.

Excuse me, Miss Fisher.
Albert has telephoned.

He said
that the caviar has arrived.

Thank you, Mr. B.

So if the caviar is who I think
it is, where's it being sent to?

Tasmania.

So, what do I tell my chief?

You can tell him that the air
force doesn't know, either.

That's some consolation.

Even though Compton
saved my life.

- Literally?
- 10 years ago.

He had a chute
and he could have bailed,

but he chose
to crash-land the plane

between two mountains in
a ravine, and we both survived.

Well, no doubt you have more
dashing heroes in your past.

If there weren't,
I wouldn't be here.

To heroes, then.

And to the one
as yet unsung hero

who has saved me
over and over again.

Ripped By mstoll