(sound of running water)
(bird tweets)
(clock chimes)
Seven o'clock, Ariel. Home time.
(music box plays)
- There you go.
- (bird tweets)
Ariel!
(gasps)
(chokes)
(music box plays)
(knock)
Morning, Dot.
Morning, miss.
Didn't you used to know
the editors
at the Women's Choice magazine?
What do you mean, used to?
I just heard the news
on the wireless.
Miss Lavender has died.
Oh dear.
- When?
- This morning, they said.
And all her wonderful stories.
Now we'll never know
if Hilda and the Blue Fairies
were rescued from Marvin.
Marvin who?
Marvin
the Malevolent Monitor Lizard.
HUGH: Miss Fisher!
We tried to keep
any suspicious circumstances
away from the press.
You did
a first-rate job, Constable.
I wasn't suspicious at all
until I saw you.
Hello, Jack.
Sorry, sir.
Phryne!
How appalling this all is.
I'm so sorry, I only just heard.
What happened?
If you'd both like
to vacate this office,
we might find out.
Now please.
If I could have a quick look
at her.
Not yet, Miss Charlesworth,
please.
Ladies?
Blue as a cornflower
and cold as ice, Stephen said.
It wouldn't have been her heart.
We all know she didn't have one.
Come on, everyone.
No time for the vapors.
We still have a deadline
to meet.
Do the police know how she died?
Not that they're telling me.
These are my tireless workers.
I'm sure you've all heard of the
Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher?
My former pupil,
now dear friend.
This is Mrs Helen Opie,
in charge of domestic
and cooking pages.
Miss Letitia Prout,
fashion and social calendar.
And Mr John Bell,
our concession to manhood,
who does the gardening section.
It's a pleasure
to put faces to bylines,
in spite of the circumstances.
But where's Stephen?
The one who found
poor Miss Lavender?
Stephen Opie is my husband.
He's the office caretaker.
And he's managed to fix
those damn pipes, I see.
- We have running water again.
- Only took him three days.
Perhaps you'd make the first pot
of tea, Miss Prout?
Come on, Phryne,
let's take some air.
Is there anything I can do
to help, Miss Charlesworth?
Georgina.
I can't bring myself to call
a teacher by their first name
and Miss Lavender would
never condone such a thing.
Poor Marcella.
She did love her formalities.
I was surprised when I heard
you left The Argus to start
Women's Choice.
I thought newspaper journalism
was more your style?
But how many women
read the newspapers?
If I have to run 100 new recipes
and dress patterns
for just one article
on women's health or education
that may change a life,
then I'm happy.
No wonder my father didn't stand
a chance against you.
He was wrong, I was right.
One clever, grubby little girl
gets to stay at school
and look what you end up with.
Sad truth is, though,
most of our readers
are waiting with bated breath
for the next installment
of the Blue Fairies.
Which hasn't been written?
It has but it's now off limits
in Marcella's office.
And if we don't meet
the printer's deadline
for the next edition,
I don't know how I'm going
to pay this fortnight's wages.
You know I can loan you
the money.
Don't you dare.
I couldn't accept it.
In that case, Miss Charlesworth,
may I be excused?
I'd better try
and retrieve your story.
Now tell me, Jack.
Does that new furrow
in your brow
have anything to do with kissing
me the other night?
I didn't kiss you.
I was trying to protect you.
All in the line of duty?
You were looking a gunman
in the eye
and I had to distract you.
I'm sorry if you think
I took a liberty.
Jack, you kissed me.
Let's call a spade a spade.
You kissed me back.
And I'm not here to apologize.
Then why are you here?
I need a favor
for Miss Charlesworth.
I've already asked her to wait.
I promise
I won't touch anything.
Technically brilliant but not
particularly avant-garde.
Obviously her blue period.
Blue seems to have been her
color till the bitter end.
I would have guessed
a thrombosis
if I didn't suspect
somebody had it in for her.
(music box plays)
I think that classifies
as touching something.
Would you like me
to slip on some gloves?
- No.
- Just the desk drawers.
Goodbye, Miss Fisher.
If you happen
to find that story...
It may be relevant to the case.
Hilda and the Blue Fairies
versus
Marvin the Monitor Lizard?
I'll let you know later today.
Do you have any idea who might
want to hurt Miss Lavender?
I don't think
this is just about Marcella.
There was the brick
through the door last night.
We've been harassed before.
There was a dead possum
dumped on the doorstep,
a prank phone call
and another break-in or two.
Did you report them
to the police?
Mindless vandalism, they called
it, but I wasn't convinced.
A bunch of women with opinions.
- Not everyone likes that.
- No.
It may sound fanciful
but I'm convinced
someone has it in
for the magazine.
Then I'll make it my business
to help find out who.
"50 uses around the home
for lemon juice."
"How to make the perfect
Yorkshire pudding every time."
And four whole pages
devoted to needlework.
Who on earth
wants an embroidered
lavatory seat cover anyway?
But there was a story
on women going to university
in the last edition.
And in August they had
an article on family planning.
My mother returned it
and asked for her money back.
Who's Artemis?
She solves everyone's problems.
My friend, you know Alice,
she wrote to her
and asked about whether
she and Cec should get engaged.
And what was the advice?
She said she could do
better for herself.
But it was too late by then.
And you can't do better
than Cec. Except for Hugh.
Excuse me. Detective Inspector
Robinson is here.
Hello, Jack.
Marvin the Monitor Lizard
gets his just deserts
and Hilda saves the day.
Jack!
You've ruined it for Dot now.
Oh! No, I...
- I read it for my nieces.
- Be my guest.
We found it in a box of files
we took to the station
but it's definitely
not evidence.
Not unless Miss Lavender
was poisoned
by a band of five-year-olds.
Well, I will just take it
upstairs then.
Poisoned?
The coroner seems convinced
even before the autopsy.
It was prussic acid poisoning.
Cyanide?
How was it administered?
No idea at present.
She'd been dead since early
evening the night before.
What time did she usually leave?
I noticed
she was wearing her coat.
Very good. Seven o'clock
every night on the dot.
I heard Miss Lavender
taught you at school.
What kind of woman was she?
Cold as a halibut on ice.
Are you wooing me
for information, Inspector?
BUTLER:
Miss Fisher, another visitor.
Lin!
My apologies for the intrusion.
- Detective Inspector.
- Nice to see you again, Mr Lin.
Come and join us.
I'll call for some tea.
I was just leaving.
If you could just make sure
Miss Charlesworth
receives that envelope.
Thank you.
I'm not surprised
about Miss Lavender.
The old trout made more enemies
in a month
than Genghis Khan in a lifetime.
Any chance of joining you
on police rounds?
I'd kill to come along.
JACK:
No need for that, Miss Prout.
And I'm in no doubt
of your enthusiasm.
We found this
in Miss Lavender's files.
It's only a carbon copy
but I'm sure
you've seen the original.
It's a letter of warning,
addressed to you.
Please, come in.
She found out
I was trying to moonlight.
And threatened to sack you?
She had the nerve
to tell the newspaper
that I was being dishonest.
All I did was submit some
articles which were damn good.
It was none of her business.
So you and Miss Lavender
didn't see eye to eye?
Miss Charlesworth
didn't agree with her either.
You should have heard
their rows.
Miss C's a serious journalist.
Started at The Argus.
Now that she's the boss,
I'm sure things
will change for the better.
I've missed you, silver lady.
Likewise, beautiful man.
Now tell me why you're here.
I thought you had a whole
Chinese dynasty to appease.
Ah, my engagement has been
indefinitely postponed.
What happened?
Grandmother feels Camellia
is not demure enough
to be her daughter-in-law.
She's answering her back.
I like the sound of Camellia.
And Grandmother questioned
her chastity
and she refused
a medical examination.
Never mind a woman's privacy
when a dowry's at stake.
The longer it takes
to resolve this dispute,
the more time I have with you.
True.
But not today.
HUGH: So, Mr Opie, you found
Miss Lavender dead
at six o'clock that morning?
Well, I fixed the pipes
before I went upstairs.
See, we'd been without
running water in the building
for a couple of days.
I saw the smashed window
from the outside first.
When I went upstairs
I saw that slogan on the wall.
I checked the office but
Miss Lavender's door was locked
so I used my master key.
HUGH: Right.
So what time did you leave?
I caught a cab around six.
I promised Stephen
I'd be home at 6,30.
My wife got home a bit
after seven, I think.
She shouldn't be putting in such
long hours on a job like that.
But Helen tends to lose track
of time when she's working back.
You live in Richmond.
You allowed half an hour
for a five-minute trip?
Just as well I did.
There was a traffic hold-up.
A tram became unhooked.
Miss Lavender was still there,
though.
She's always the last to leave.
Just made the rest of us
feel guilty.
So you were the last person
to see Miss Lavender alive
when you left work that evening?
Seems that way.
- Hello, Mr Bell.
- John, please.
Not Giovanni if I recognize
that continental charm?
I've lived here many years,
Miss Fisher.
I know the limits
of the local dialect.
But you don't feel hopelessly
outnumbered on the magazine?
I was raised by five sisters.
I like the company of women.
Besides, my nom de plume
is Miss Green Thumbs.
Well, Miss Green Thumbs,
perhaps you could help me.
I've met everyone on the paper
now except for Artemis.
Whose nom de plume is that?
I'm forbidden to tell you.
Really?
Really.
There's a price, I'm afraid.
Who's Artemis, your agony aunt?
Marcella Lavender.
Why hasn't anyone
told the police?
Because the staff all know
that to reveal her identity
means instant dismissal
and because the police
would want me
to hand over
all of Artemis's letters.
And to do so would be
a gross breach
of our readers' confidentiality.
Has it occurred to you that
one of those letter writers
could be disgruntled enough
to be a cold-blooded murderer?
The thought had crossed my mind
in my spare moments.
Unpublished,
those we haven't got to yet,
and never to be published.
The rest are in the magazine.
I have been meaning to go
through these myself,
check if there's anything fishy
to hand on to the police
but, frankly, getting the
next issue of our magazine out
is a matter of our survival.
Excuse me, Miss Charlesworth.
I've been thinking.
Mmm, here's trouble.
Remember those articles we
wanted to do, Migrant Melbourne,
where we interview newcomers?
Sounds more interesting than
how to make an Easter bonnet.
Much more.
Miss Lavender hated it.
But now we can go back
into her office,
I thought that I perhaps
could resurrect it
from her reject pile.
You're a shameless opportunist.
Show it to me
and I will consider it.
An enthusiastic recruit.
Not the type
to let a dead body
get in the way
of her naked ambition.
Such a pretty color.
Did you take this?
Ah, yes. That's one
of her better portraits,
if I do say so myself.
It's called a cyanotype.
Turns everything Prussian blue.
Found it, eventually, in a big
red file labeled "rejected".
Must have been
one of her favorites.
Oh, lovely.
Covered in corrections.
Half my pictures are missing.
Brilliant. Jammed again!
Where is Mr Opie
when you need him?
He does have other offices
to service, you know.
LETITIA: Mr Bell, could you?
Pretty please?
Why do you think I could fix it?
You fixed
Miss Lavender's music box.
I'll never get
this obituary done
with everything else
on my plate.
You could entrust
the Artemis letters to me?
I know someone absolutely
perfect for the job.
Phryne, would you? I don't think
I could bear to wade
through all that heartache
right now.
Oh, honestly,
this is the worst job
Miss Fisher has ever given me.
This sad soul
has lost her husband, her job,
and she has a sick kiddy
with another on the way.
This one has some
terrible medical condition
and this poor woman
has nine children
but doesn't want to deny
her husband.
Well, if those ones
are upsetting you, Dorothy,
I'll take
the never to be published.
Who knows what monsters
lie there?
So Miss Prout had a motive
because her career
was on the line.
Mrs Opie had a spare hour
of opportunity,
Mr Opie had a spare key
to the locked office.
What about Mr Bell?
He was booked
into a Spencer Street hotel
with a lady friend
for the evening.
He is a dark horse.
- What about Miss Charlesworth?
- What about her?
She and Miss Lavender had
serious creative differences.
Did you notice
the cyanotypes on the walls?
Those blue photographs
in the office?
Of course I did. Made from
a solution of ferrocyanide.
Damn! How could you know that?
Could that be
our cyanide compound
used to kill Miss Lavender?
Not sure.
Who was the photographer?
Georgina Charlesworth.
You'd find out anyway
and it doesn't mean she did it.
Hello?
Miss Fisher? Hugh!
"I know where to find you
and I'll make you pay
for what you told her."
I think something just came up,
Jack.
That's a threat
if ever I heard one.
So this was hand delivered
to the magazine?
No return address
except the sender's name,
"Desperate's Husband".
All we have to do is keep
going through the boxes
till we find Desperate's
original letter to Artemis.
What were you doing with them?
I thought,
with Miss Lavender gone,
Dot might like to be
the magazine's new Agony Aunt.
Collins, assist Miss Williams
to sort through
the rest of the letters.
Bring back anything you think
constitutes evidence.
I'll head back to Women's Choice
and go through the back copies.
If Desperate's husband
is our killer,
his wife's letter
is our only lead.
LETITIA: I'm so sorry
we misplaced your photograph.
There's been a bereavement
and everything's been in chaos.
No matter.
This picture is almost the same.
Same squadron, same airplane.
I will guard it with my life,
I promise.
Right, this is the last
of our previous editions.
Where is everyone?
Mrs Opie's gone out to buy
ingredients for a new recipe.
Mr Bell must have gone
for cigarettes as usual.
Oh,
that man really is the limit.
How's that migrant article
coming along, Letitia?
Coming along quite nicely,
Miss C.
I just have to check a fact
with one of my migrants.
I'm going to see if I can catch
him at the bottom of the stairs.
Do that.
Do you think you're the right
person to give this advice?
Maybe they need someone
with more experience.
Miss Phryne wouldn't have
suggested me
if she didn't think
I could do the job.
Besides, all these people need
is some common sense advice
and some kind words.
Alright.
What about this one, then?
"Dear Artemis,
I've been going out
with the most wonderful girl
for nearly...
six months now."
"To the pictures
and dancing
and on walks."
"I think she's kind
and I think she's funny,
and she has
a lot of common sense."
"And I think she likes me too
but how can I be sure
if she's my girl?"
Six months, you said?
And he thinks she's wonderful?
That's what it says.
Well, I...
I suspect she likes him too.
A lot, probably.
So...
Common sense tells me that
she's definitely his girl.
MISS CHARLESWORTH:
Thank you, troops,
for an heroic effort today.
With a good wind behind us,
we may just make the printers.
I hope so. I only have one more
recipe to go.
- Miss Letitia Prout?
- Yes?
Yes, my Migrant Melbourne
articles
will be on your desk
at 9am sharp.
Feel free to take anything
you want, Phryne.
I'm just going to lock
Miss Lavender's office.
Of course.
I'll come back tomorrow.
- Goodnight!
- Goodnight.
MISS CHARLESWORTH:
Oh, look at that!
I do admire the girl's pluck.
But she has no sense
of order whatsoever.
Coming?
BUTLER: Mr Lin
to see you urgently, miss.
Lin, what's the matter?
What's...
Phryne Fisher,
may I present Miss Camellia Lu.
I'm honored to meet you,
Camellia.
She knows no English
but I have a problem
I need to discuss
with you privately.
Mr Butler,
perhaps you could show
Camellia through to the dining
room, offer her some tea?
Yes, miss.
Tell me all.
Grandmother wants
to send Camellia home
but the Hus have refused
to pay her passage.
So Grandmother took her revenge
on Camellia with a bamboo cane.
How awful!
Don't worry,
Camellia fought like a tiger.
But I need you to keep her safe
until I calm the waters.
Of course.
Camellia will be my guest
for as long as she needs.
(knock)
Oh, it's alright, miss.
Come in.
(speaks slowly)
If you go back to your room
Mr...Mr Butler
will bring you your things.
(speaks Mandarin)
Goodnight, Camellia.
She's had a good soak
in the bath.
Lin's gone home for the evening.
He'll call on Camellia tomorrow.
She left this downstairs.
I wonder
if that's her wedding dress.
Quite probably.
Such a shame
she won't get to wear it.
How can you tell anything?
It's all in Chinese.
I can tell it's about Communism.
Is Miss Lu a Communist?
There's clearly some connection.
She may have a much more
colorful history
than Mr Lin's family knows.
Would Mr Lin object?
His grandmother
most certainly would.
Let's keep a close eye on her.
I like to know exactly what I'm
dealing with in a house guest.
Miss Fisher.
I apologize.
I think I misunderstood.
I thought it was Mr Lin who was
joining you for supper tonight.
Never mind, Mr Butler.
Perhaps a little more light
on the situation
but I'm sure the inspector
and I will cope.
Mr Chung looks well.
We crossed paths as he departed.
I hope you like Chinese food.
Is that better?
Miss Prout
is behaving very oddly.
I'm not sure what it has to do
with Miss Lavender's death yet
but...
I think this should tell us.
JACK: O-V...
No, no, U.
O-I-N-G.
What's that?
It's the sign for pounds.
"I know what you did."
"I will expose you."
"Bring..."
Two naught naught... 200.
PHRYNE: £200.
9...pm.
In five minutes' time!
(screams)
Oh no!
I can't believe it!
Poor Letitia!
Should I notify her family?
Er, no. They've been notified.
The man Miss Prout arranged
to meet last night,
could it be the same man
I saw her with
in the office yesterday
and then later downstairs?
I can't imagine he'd return
to the scene of the crime,
assuming he murdered
Miss Lavender as well.
It's too coincidental.
He must be connected.
He gave her a photograph for
the article she was working on.
(phone rings)
Which has disappeared.
Inspector?
A Constable Collins
on my telephone for you.
Thank you.
"Since I had the new bub,
I can hardly rise from my bed."
"The children look up to me
and I feel nothing
except a hopeless failure."
"I can't help thinking they will
all be better off without me
and I should just walk out
the door."
PHRYNE: I'm sure she felt worse
after she read
what Artemis had to say.
I found her reply
after you phoned, Dot,
published two weeks later.
"Dear Desperate,
slothfulness demonstrates
weakness of character."
"Shake off your malaise with
housework and a strict routine
to serve the needs
of your husband and children
and you'll have no time
to wallow in self-pity."
HUGH:
Think the husband's our man?
If his wife left him
and he blamed the advice.
Is there an address
on that envelope?
Bring the car around, Constable.
Good work, fellow sleuth.
Go round the back way, Collins.
Be careful.
There might be children
in the house.
Hello, anyone there?
(dog barks)
- Oi!
- What's going on?
Desperate's husband, I presume?
When did it happen?
She left the children
with the neighbors,
caught a bus to Rye.
It was about a week ago.
The day it happened,
someone saw her
walking on the cliffs,
just before she...
Police said it took all day
to recover her body
and track me down.
So where were you that night?
Frankston Police Station,
mostly.
They called me in
to identify her body.
Then where did you go?
I went to that magazine building
and I threw a brick
through their window.
And I found some old paint
lying downstairs.
I just wanted them to know
what they did to her.
Did to us.
They told her to buck up.
What sort of stupid bloody women
run that place?
And last night? Where were you?
Here. I haven't left this house
since the day my wife died.
The children?
Well, welfare took them.
Said I was a risk.
I'd never hurt my kids.
They're all I got left.
His name is Robert Green
and Miss Lavender was already
dead inside her office
when he threw a brick
through the front door.
PHRYNE:
What are you looking for now?
Evidence of
Miss Charlesworth's rift
with her business partner.
Ah-ha.
Looks like
some kind of contract.
Offering Miss Lavender
a new position
to oversee the publication
of her entire body of work.
I'm sure she had all kinds
of offers.
Signed the week before she died.
Well, either way, she would have
been lost to Women's Choice
and how would murdering her
help Miss Charlesworth?
Why don't you ask her yourself,
Miss Fisher?
In the event
of either partner dying,
the other partner becomes
sole owner of Women's Choice.
I see.
The inspector's
trying to confirm
what I have already told you.
Why would Miss Charlesworth
volunteer that information
if she was guilty?
And what about Miss Prout?
She pushed her down the stairs?
Can we not discuss the case
in front of a main suspect?
- Main suspect?
- MISS CHARLESWORTH: I'll go.
No, stay,
and help me mount your defense!
Phryne, darling,
I've had two deaths in two days.
I don't think I have
the strength to mount anything.
- Oh, damn!
- Miss Charlesworth...
That is enough.
Miss Charlesworth may
have had motive and the means
but she did not kill
Miss Lavender!
- That's clean water.
- What's your point?
How could Miss Lavender have a
jar of clean water in her office
if the pipes
had been broken for days?
And weren't fixed until
the morning after she died.
I fixed the pipes at six o'clock
the night before.
Why the deception?
Because I didn't want my wife
to know
that I came back that night.
How could she not know?
She was working back.
No, she wasn't.
Miss Lavender
was the only one here,
and when I left her,
she was fine.
Where was your wife?
I'd like to know the answer to
that even more than you would.
Oh my God.
How much does he know?
Mrs Opie, it's not just
your husband you've led astray.
This is a police investigation.
I went to meet a friend.
A man.
I waited till everybody
left the office at five,
then I left shortly after.
Miss Lavender was the only one
still here.
This gentleman friend's name?
I'd rather not say.
But the hotel could confirm
that I was there.
Your adultery is your alibi,
Mrs Opie.
It was John Bell, wasn't it?
It's not grubby like you think.
We talk mainly.
About the world, and art.
All the things Stephen thinks
I shouldn't be interested in.
Have you told my husband?
That's not our job, Mrs Opie.
BUTLER: You dropped one.
She was going
through the letters.
Perhaps they read
each other's mail.
She was reading.
I thought she couldn't
understand English.
I'll eat my hat if that's true.
Mrs Opie and Mr Bell provide
each other with an alibi.
What about Mr Opie?
His first instinct was to lie.
He has no one to support
his alibi that night
and he has ample opportunity.
Just short on motive.
Maybe he wanted to sabotage
Women's Choice
by killing Miss Lavender
to get his wife to come home
and cook dinner more often.
Some men will do anything
for a hot meal.
Excuse me, Miss Fisher.
There's a Miss Williams
on the telephone for you.
Lovely, thank you, Dot.
I think it's time you
leveled with us, Camellia.
Your English is far better
than you would have us believe.
Your reading material
suggests an educated woman.
And you seem to be able to hold
your own with Granny Lin
in a way
that deeply impresses me.
You are right.
I am sorry
but it was necessary.
We only want to help you.
Please, I have lied to the Lins.
I am a widow.
My parents forbade my marriage
because my husband was a member
of the Communist party.
So we eloped to Shanghai,
where my husband was executed
along with many of his comrades.
I had no choice but to flee
and beg for my family's mercy.
My father made the necessary
arrangements
to find a new husband for me
as far away as possible.
I have brought great dishonor
on my family.
If I go home, I'm afraid
my father will kill me.
Don't worry, Camellia.
We will find a solution.
If what you've told me is true,
I could never allow her
to be sent back.
PHRYNE:
So what are your intentions?
I realize you have no obligation
now that your grandmother no
longer considers her suitable.
But of course I will see to it
that she has money
and somewhere to live.
Alone? In a strange country?
Shunned by your family,
with no family of her own?
But she's obviously made one
friend already.
Your grandmother won't find you
another bride like Camellia.
She wants a daughter-in-law
who's compliant and ignorant.
Camellia is strong.
Clever.
And you are now her advocate?
You made your choice
to follow your tradition
and marry for duty and honor.
Perhaps I was wrong,
and this broken engagement
is my last chance for love.
Come out with me tonight
to Chinatown for dancing.
Not tonight.
I have to rise earlier
than I care to.
Inspector Robinson and I
are working on a case.
Is he unable
to solve crimes alone?
Jack is strictly business.
Lin...
I care for you.
But you know
I can never commit myself
to any man.
I know.
I've turned the office
upside down
looking for that
Migrant article.
I can't find it anywhere.
No one else saw him?
They met in the middle
of the office.
He was bald and plump
with a moustache.
Well,
Mrs Opie didn't catch his name
and Mr Bell can't recall
meeting him at all.
I made some notes
when Letitia first talked about
doing an article.
Here they are.
"Barber by the Bay."
PHRYNE: The photograph
you gave Miss Prout,
it was of you in the war?
With my squadron,
Aeronautica del Regio,
taken before we were shot down,
all of us,
and the Germans
took us prisoner.
Is that what the article
was about?
No. The young lady was also
interested in the fighting.
- But the other one...
- Miss Charlesworth?
No, her name was like a flower.
Er, lilac?
- Miss Lavender?
- Lavender.
She come to see me
to ask about the war.
And about the story of the man
who was once my friend.
What man?
The man I showed her
in the photograph.
Just more pictures
of the barber shop.
Look for images with a plane
in the background.
(door bangs)
Mr Butler?
This one has uniforms.
That's him, Dot!
That's our man.
- Who?
- Giovanni Campagna.
(door slams)
That's odd.
He didn't say he was going out.
Did you hear the front door,
miss?
Check Camellia's room, Dot.
Help!
A Studebaker.
Are you sure?
Where will they take her?
Yes, I'll meet you there.
Lin.
There's a boat to China
at midnight.
I recognize the two men
at the far shed.
Camellia must be in there.
Did you come armed?
Please,
these men are my cousins.
Alright.
You create a diversion
while I slip inside.
Ready?
Help!
Those thugs!
Bastards!
Animals!
Lin's close by.
There's two of us.
Time to fight like a tiger.
(banging)
Ya!
Brilliant!
No!
Grandmother!
I know you're here.
Show yourself.
This ends now.
Camellia is to be my wife.
I will not allow this harlot
to bring shame to my family.
It's my family too
and I'm taking my role
as the head of it.
And Camellia will be by my side.
- Sorry!
- If you demand a denouement,
the least you can do
is turn up on time.
What is all this about,
Detective Inspector?
John Bell, you're under arrest
for the murders
of Miss Marcella Lavender
and Miss Letitia Prout.
- What?
- Mr Bell, do you deny it?
Well, of course I deny it!
What possible motive
could he have
for murdering Miss Lavender
and Letitia Prout?
Miss Fisher,
perhaps you'd like to begin?
The name Giovanni Campagna.
Miss Charlesworth, you have
a smattering of Italian.
How would that translate
into English?
Oh well, Giovanni is John and...
It's John Bell, isn't it?
PHRYNE: That's right.
Interesting because
Giovanni Campagna is a traitor.
He spied for the Germans
and was responsible for hundreds
of Italian pilots
being shot down in flames
over the Austrian Alps.
MISS CHARLESWORTH:
This can't be true.
You led us to believe that you
were brought here as a child.
If he hadn't fled Italy he'd
have been tried for treason
and probably shot.
These are all lies!
I can assure you, Mr Bell,
we can prove it.
The Italian Embassy
has been quite helpful.
What has this to do
with Marcella and Letitia?
Meticulous Miss Lavender
found the photograph
of John Bell in uniform
that Miss Prout missed in
her Migrant Melbourne article.
Miss Prout only noticed
the familiar face later
when her Italian barber friend
gave her a better photograph
to replace the one
that mysteriously disappeared.
Why didn't either of them
go directly to the police?
Miss Prout
attempted blackmail instead
and ended up at the bottom
of the stairwell.
But Marcella would never stoop
to such immoral behavior.
I suspect she gave him advice,
as usual,
and hoped he'd do the noble
thing and turn himself in.
She appealed
to his better nature.
But he didn't have one.
No, he was with me!
He couldn't have killed
Miss Lavender.
- I knew it!
- Oh, Stephen!
- Wait!
- Stephen!
Take it easy.
I'm sorry, Stephen.
JACK: Thank you, Collins.
Mr Campagna was a pilot.
All pilots were given
cyanide capsules
to take in case of capture.
You decided to save your
bitter pill for a rainy day.
But the problem was
how to administer it
without being connected
to the crime.
Then opportunity
presented itself
in the form of Miss Lavender's
broken music box.
Because, as he obviously knew,
cyanide mixed with an acid
gives off deadly fumes
and turns everything it touches
into a lovely shade of blue.
John, how could you?
Get out of my way!
JOHN: Take your hands off me!
Get up!
Move.
(cries)
Chin up just a fraction.
Thank you very much, Camellia.
(speaks Mandarin)
Well, Phryne, you were right.
You are perfectly lovely.
Whatever happens, people
will sit up and take notice
with the soon-to-be
Mrs Lin Chung
heading your
Migrant Melbourne article.
Mm.
And you must be Dorothy.
What a splendid Artemis
you make.
There's a check for you
waiting in my office,
and a permanent job
if you'd like to try something
more challenging
than a lady's companion?
Oh no,
I could never leave Miss Fisher.
I would understand, Dot,
if you want the opportunity
to try something different.
You're different enough for me,
miss.
But thank you.
Yes, she's certainly different.
Jack.
Good of you to come.
And what puzzle
are we solving tonight?
No puzzle.
And no candlelight.
No chopsticks either.
There won't be chopsticks at
this table for quite some time.
And how will Mr Lin
feel about that?
Mr Lin will have quite enough
to worry about
with his Communist revolutionary
fighter bride.
Really?
Pass on my congratulations.
Perhaps we could allow ourselves
just one candle.
What do you think?
I think I could cope with that.