Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (2012) s01e06 Episode Script

Yes, Uncle.
Did you see him? He was mugging upstage.
If he tries that tonight They don't appreciate a true artist, Mr Copland.
Do you smell that? Like flowers.
Dorothea? It can't be.
No.
Stay away! I shouldn't be long.
Do you want to come in? Oh, it's him.
Dot? Yes? I'll see you inside.
Mm-hm.
A bit of greasepaint will cover it, sir.
But you must hurry.
The curtain goes up in 20 minutes! I'm fine.
I'm fine, don't fuss.
Thank you, Lin, I'm in your debt.
As am I.
No, please.
Happy to be of service.
Phryne! She hangs upon the cheek of night, like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear.
You're a little old for Romeo, Bart.
Nonsense! Henry Irving was 45 when he played Romeo at the Lyceum.
Besides, with you as my Juliet age is immaterial.
Miss Phryne Fisher, may I present Lin Chung.
Mr Lin.
He was kind enough to come to the aid of our leading man, who was set upon by thugs outside the theatre.
I'm sure anyone would've done the same.
Pleasure to meet you, Miss Fisher.
Good luck with the show.
You're looking ravishing as always, dear girl.
You haven't changed a bit.
Hurry, Miss Leila.
Chookas, Mr Tarrant.
Love the dress! Unless you want me to miss the curtain, tell me why you invited me.
Quite right.
Tell me, Phryne, are they true, the rumours about you? Usually, I'm afraid.
But you're a detective.
That too.
I should have guessed free theatre tickets would come with a price tag.
We have a ghost.
A ghost? It's not just any ghost.
It's Dorothea Curtis.
I've heard that name.
Dorothea was a promising soprano.
She died 20 years ago.
The last role she ever played was Rosie in Ruddigore in this theatre.
She died at her own hand on opening night.
I found her in the dressing room.
She'd stabbed herself through the heart.
That's unusual.
She was an actress.
If one has to play out a death scene, Juliet's the classic choice.
Mr Tarrant, five-minute call! Break a leg! Bart.
I may have a reputation for taking on difficult cases, but even I can't fix a ghost.
All this talk of spectres will pass as soon as the curtain rises.
Trust me.
I can't believe we're sitting so close.
Close enough to get a good look at the handsome Gwilym Evans.
Is he handsome? You hadn't noticed? It's his talent I admire.
Which, I'm sure, is formidable.
If you want some advice, I'd hide your admiration of Mr Gwilym Evans' talents when your constable arrives.
Hugh's coming? It was a surprise for your birthday.
I thought you'd be pleased.
Sorry I'm late.
Constable Collins asked me to send his apologies.
His football game ended in a brawl.
He ended up arresting half the opposing team.
I didn't pick you as a Gilbert and Sullivan fan, Inspector.
Constable Collins neglected to mention the tickets were for an operetta.
A pleasant surprise then.
One for which he will most definitely pay the price.
Perfect as always, pumpkin.
Evans.
Well, house is full to bursting.
Break a leg.
Indeed.
And I'll break yours if you upstage me tonight.
This costume is not right.
Hansen? Parbuckle me, if you ain't the loveliest gal I ever set eyes on! There, I can't say fairer than that, can I? No! The question is, is it meet that a total stranger should thus express himself? Now he's in love with her? But they've only just met.
Where's your sense of romance, Jack? In sailing o'er life's ocean wide Your heart should be your only guide With summer sea and favouring wind Yourself in port you'll surely find My heart says, 'You're the prosperous lot, with acres wide You mean to settle all you've got Upon your bride.
' So now she's getting engaged to the other fellow? Sh! Is that what you call a modern interpretation? No.
Walter Copland looked like he was dying on stage.
Absolutely.
Gwilym Evans really should be the lead.
Phryne, come quickly! Do you think anyone noticed we went off book? Interval did come a tad early.
How's the patient? Can't someone just give Walter a tonic? Is this a usual occurrence? Mr Copland! There's a doctor down the lane.
If Copland isn't up for it, I know his part.
I'm happy to step up.
And who plays Richard? Bradford knows all the parts.
Bra! He may not be much to look at, but he can sing a damn sight better than Copland.
That's just for rehearsal, sir.
I couldn't step out on the stage.
Nonsense.
This is an emergency.
Look at him.
He's three sheets to the wind.
Is he? You can hold off on that doctor.
Looks like your man's dead.
Any enemies? Surely you don't suspect murder.
We won't know until we get the autopsy, but contracted pupils, sudden coma, could indicate poison.
If the press get hold of this, I'm ruined.
Are you alright? I'm I'm perfectly fine.
Thank you once again for the theatre tickets.
It seems we won't be seeing the second act.
It's a murder, Jack.
Surely you don't expect me to just walk out.
One can only hope.
I need to look after the interests of my client.
Mr Tarrant employed me this evening to look into some strange occurrences in the theatre.
I engaged Miss Fisher right before the curtain went up.
How convenient.
I know this is a terrible time for everyone.
Just ghastly.
Not now, Gwilym! It's just Don't you think Bradford should get Walter's costume back before they remove the body? Whoever replaces him will need it.
Actors, Jack.
You need somebody who understands their language.
And I speak fluent Thespian.
Ah.
I'll stumble through.
Thanks all the same.
Come on, ladies.
Stand behind the wings please.
Not quite the birthday celebration I had planned for you, Dot.
Not worry, Miss.
Hardly your fault that poor man died.
I saved your show tonight! You owe me! I'll decide in the morning.
I'm sorry, in all the ruction, we haven't yet had the pleasure.
No, we haven't.
Gwilym Evans.
Phryne Fisher, Mr Evans.
There were some questions I was hoping I might ask you.
Anything to help a lady.
But first, may I present Miss Williams? She is a great admirer of your talents.
Charmed.
Do you think I might have an autograph? Dressing room.
Yes, sir.
Oh, it's for my mother.
Her name is Dot.
Mr Evans, shall we? I was going to have a word to Miss Fisher.
Oh.
Miss Fisher has to leave.
Did you see him? He spoke to me! And that voice! Those eyes.
May I? Hmm.
Different hand.
Sorry, Miss? I said Gwilym Evans has a lovely hand.
I have heard tell of young ladies being snatched from around here.
You mustn't believe everything you read in The Argus, Dot.
There's absolutely nothing to be afraid of.
Well, that's just rude.
I do approve of a man who can fight and still maintain his sartorial elegance.
Shall we? Um Miss? Come along, Dot.
Miss.
I am sorry.
She wants to protect me from the decadence of the west.
A losing battle I'm guessing.
Dot, try one of these.
Your skills with the chopsticks are very impressive.
So are your fighting skills.
Sometimes in my business it is necessary to employ them.
And your business is? I'm an importer.
May I ask what you import? Silk.
I didn't realise the silk business was so dangerous.
Two fights in one evening.
Welcome to Chinatown.
There are those few here who would rather rob their own kind than make an honest living.
So that's what the skirmish was about? An attempt to rob you? And what, may I ask, were you doing in the laneways at this hour? I'm always interested when somebody avoids answering a question.
As you know, we were at the theatre.
Until one of the actors up and died.
Your friend Walter Copland.
I only met him tonight.
Mr Lin, you'll get me hooked.
Thank you for coming, darling girl.
Little earlier than I'm used to.
Did the Inspector keep you up half the night? Oh, he did.
I expect he asked you who might stand to gain from Walter Copland's death? He also told me I shouldn't speak to you about the case.
And? I told him there was no love lost between Mr Copland and Mr Evans.
Don't let Dot hear you say that.
She worships the man.
And the reason for their conflict? Nothing apart from the obvious.
Two rival actors competing for the same role.
Creditors? Painters, stage hands, orchestra, even the actors.
Oddly enough, they all expect to be paid.
What? They're not in it for the love of theatre? Only me.
You quite alright? I've been better, my dear.
The truth is, Miss Fisher, I have everything riding on this show.
Every last cracker! If Ruddigore goes down, I'm ruined.
That's the end of me.
Apparently there's some tension between your Mr Evans and Mr Copland.
I can't think what about.
Unless it was jealousy of Mr Evans' talent.
Could it be jealousy of the attentions of Miss Esperance? That's impossible, Miss.
How so? Well, Miss Esperance was engaged to Mr Copland, and Mr Evans would never dally with the affections of an engaged lady.
Really? They were engaged? Hm.
Table Talk magazine does not lie.
Ah, I wondered when you'd be back.
Did you miss me? I never get a chance to miss you.
It feels as if you're in my office every second day.
To what do I owe the pleasure? A development in our case.
Our case? I expect the actors let slip about the ghost.
They did.
Don't tell me you suspect the ghost? Might be a little difficult to clap an apparition in irons.
I was thinking more about whoever faked the apparition's appearance.
And given that it's a woman You suspect Miss Esperance? At the time I didn't question her indifference to her fellow actor's collapse.
But is that the behaviour of a fiancee? Doing Ruddigore gave Walter and I a chance to work together.
We didn't like to be apart.
So how long have you been engaged? Oh, two is it? Just before we began rehearsals.
Yes, two months.
I would have thought most engaged women could count out the minutes.
It wasn't my idea.
What wasn't? It was just for an article in Table Talk.
The engagement was supposed to sell tickets.
Then you weren't really engaged? So much of what we do is make-believe.
It was just one more thing to pretend.
Mr Tarrant tells us it was your idea to mount a production of Ruddigore.
Yes.
I wrote to him in England.
I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for him to return home after all those years away.
Did you see the ghost? No.
When we finally heard about it I looked for her, but she'd vanished.
Where were you when the ghost appeared? Downstage left.
We were in the middle of a dress rehearsal.
So Walter was the only one who saw it? No.
His dresser Hansen was with him.
Following Walter around like a puppy.
It just appeared out of thin air.
Walter recognised her.
He'd worked with Dorothea 20 years ago.
He told her to stay away.
This note? Yes, that's it.
Yes.
Rather unusual, isn't it, for a ghost to leave behind such a palpable item like a note? I'm sure I have no idea what ghosts do or don't do.
They don't usually do anything, given they don't exist.
Oh, ye of little faith.
It wasn't just the note.
I beg your pardon? That the ghost left behind.
When I returned from the dressing room, the sand had vanished.
Not entirely.
Do you have any idea who'd want to murder Walter Copland? I shouldn't say, but Mr Evans spent all last night rehearsing Walter's role.
I hear you're taking on Mr Copland's role.
The show must go on.
You weren't exactly on the best of terms with Mr Copland.
The man was a ham.
Yes, it's a pity he's passed on, but I'm not going to pretend he was the world's greatest actor.
He could hardly stumble on stage without a little help.
What kind of help? The sort of help usually found in a bottle.
You saw him take a drink before he went on stage? I didn't, but my dresser Bradford saw everything.
He made a great show of pretending there was something wrong with his costume.
But there wasn't.
It was just an excuse to have another tipple.
And what was it he was drinking? You would have to ask his dresser.
He was the keeper of the flask.
I believe Mr Copland had a drink that night.
Walter would never compromise his performance.
You're his dresser.
It's understandable you'd be loyal to Mr Copland.
You'd know what he was carrying.
You're responsible for his costume.
Not just his costume.
The dresser is the actor's ally, his closest friend.
We're trying to find out what happened to your friend, Mr Hanson.
Is there anything that you can tell us that might help us get to the truth? He had a drink before the play opened? It was for his nerves, to calm him before he went on.
And who filled the flask? I did.
I can only assume you were planning to tell me about this.
No planning involved, Jack.
You know me.
You really can't go around removing evidence from a corpse.
I'll try and remember that next time.
Am I forgiven? Provisionally.
So, you think the dresser did it? He had access to the flask.
If he was poisoned, it seems likely he's the culprit.
Isn't it a bit easy, given that everybody knew he carried Copland's booze? Quite right.
It must have been the ghost.
Are you sure this is a good idea, Miss? Walter Copland was killed with an overdose of opium, and I need to find out if there's any connection with our Mr Lin Chung.
What makes you think there is? For a start Walter Copland's hands showed signs he'd used an opium pipe.
Add to that his scrape with some thugs in an alleyway, only to be saved by Lin Chung.
At the very least, our Chinese friend knows more than he's letting on.
Would you care for champagne, Mr Lin? Yes, please.
You didn't get a chance to tell me about the silk trade.
There's not much to tell.
I'm guessing my overly curious nature is not a virtue in your culture.
I've always enjoyed explorations beyond my culture.
Here's to exploration.
I do have one question for you.
After a meal like that, it would be rude not to answer one question.
Did Walter Copland ever buy silk from you, or anything else? Anything else? Opium? You take me for an opium trader.
I'm asking.
Mr Copland came to the same conclusion.
I'm Chinese, and so it follows that I must know where to buy opium from.
That was why he followed me outside the theatre.
Why were you at the theatre? To show Mr Tarrant silks for his next production, The Mikado.
So you didn't help Walter Copland obtain opium? I'm very sorry to disappoint you, but I am an importer of silk and silk alone.
Now, if you'll excuse me.
It's late.
It's early.
My apologies if I've offended you.
Thank you for your hospitality, but I have an early meeting tomorrow.
Miss Williams, visitor for you.
Oh.
Hello, Dot.
Sorry to bother.
I just wanted to pop in before work to bring you this.
It's for your birthday.
I know it's a little bit late, but Thank you.
I hope you like them.
They're lovely, very, ahem, useful.
Thought it might make up for me missing out on the theatre the other night.
Oh, ow.
Sorry.
Kiss it better? Constable Collins, how delightful.
Miss Phryne.
Sorry, he was A birthday gift.
For our walks.
How romantic.
Uh, I have some darning to do.
Um yes, me too.
Not darning, but other important police work.
Did the Inspector find Walter Copland's flask? He I I can't say, Miss.
And were there traces of opium? I'm not one for card games, but a little advice don't EVER play poker.
If the Inspector asks anything, I didn't breathe a word.
You didn't have to, dear Hugh.
I can read you like a book.
Speaking of books, I'm in a delicate situation and I'd like your opinion.
The book was sent to me as a gift.
Obviously it has artistic merit, but I'd hate to discover it was in breach of the Obscene and Indecent Publications Act.
I I I suppose I could take a look at it for you.
You might enjoy it.
There's an excellent chapter on kissing.
A whole chapter on kissing? Oh, yes.
When it comes to seduction, the East have a few thousand years head start on us.
Ahem, Miss Phryne? What is it, Dot? Sorry to trouble you, but Mrs Lin is here.
Said she wants to speak with you.
Oh, why didn't you let her in? She won't come in.
I've asked.
My apologies, Mrs Lin.
Please, join us.
You are Fox spirit.
Fox spirit take man property and waste it.
I assure you, I have no interest in anyone else's property.
Lin Chung is promised to be married to a good family in Shanghai.
Leave him alone or you will be cursed until your dying day.
Fox spirit.
I quite like the sound of that.
Oh, here's one.
'Actress Takes Own Life'.
What date? Sounds rather right.
Read on, MacDuff! 'Dorothea Curtis, while performing in the opening night of Gilbert and Sullivan's Ruddigore, was found dead by her own hand in her dressing room.
' Well found, old thing.
Here we go.
'Dorothea had been wooed by two suitors.
' One of them was a rather handsome fellow by the name of Maurice Shepherd.
And the other? Well, well.
Why didn't you tell me you and Dorothea were sweethearts? - Did you love her? - Passionately.
That wasn't enough.
Who was Maurice Sheffield? Dorothea and I had just finished Penzance.
World was at our feet.
We'd both been offered roles in London.
But she decided not to come.
She retired from the stage for a year.
While I was away, she was won over by Sheffield.
When I came back she was engaged to him.
Then the three of us were cast in Ruddigore.
But it became clear that Dorothea and I still had feelings.
You got back together? I wasn't going to let her get away again.
I asked her to marry me, to break it off with Sheffield.
I'd wager Sheffield wasn't thrilled.
Dorothea said she'd give me her answer the night we opened.
But instead she she sent me this note.
'My darling Bart, I cannot go on.
Please forgive me.
' The ghost's hand matches Dorothea's.
Oh, this is punishment! I should never have gone to London.
I should have stayed.
This is where I found her.
She was late for an entrance.
I ran back, swung open the door Do you have any notion of how I might contact Maurice Sheffield? He gave up the theatre as far as I know.
Her death broke both our hearts.
Did Dorothea have any family? A cousin.
Her name was Mobbs.
Miss Fisher.
Inspector.
What brings you back to the theatre? A development in the case.
Do tell.
It turns out the beneficiary of Walter Copland's will is his dresser Mr Hansen.
I wouldn't get too excited.
Inheriting an actor's estate is not exactly winning the Melbourne Cup.
What do you expect he'll inherit? A fake moustache and a stick of greasepaint? It seems Walter Copland was that rare thing, an actor with independent means.
He came from a well-to-do family.
Open up, Hansen.
Oh, I'm sorry to disturb.
I was actually looking for Mr Hansen.
Well, he's not here.
This is Mr Evans' room now.
So Hansen's been let go? I wouldn't know.
Bradford, my hat! Yes, my lord and master.
No, I move down left and you follow.
That may be the way Walter did it.
Enough! I will come back when you are ready to rehearse.
Do me a favour, Miss Fisher? With pleasure.
I thought you didn't like operetta.
I didn't.
But I do now.
You just follow along as best you can.
Where's my mark? Right here.
Mistress Rose.
Master Robin.
Do you smell hyacinths? See, that's not Oh, my God! Look out! Phryne? Phryne? Slowly.
That's it.
Gwilym? You were very lucky, my dear.
I'm afraid Gwilym is not quite so.
It was Dorothea, wasn't it? Miss Esperance, there is no such thing as ghosts.
This is just what happened to Walter and now Gwilym.
There, there.
I know it's terrible, but we're going to get through this.
We must.
I smelt hyacinths, just before the sandbag dropped.
My men will search the whole theatre.
Yes, yes, of course.
How's your head? It'll be fine.
I just need a moment.
Not again.
What do you want? Must you sneak around? I heard something.
So did I, in the fly tower.
We found the rope for the counterweight.
It was frayed all the way around.
Looks like an accident.
A very convenient one.
I agree.
Did you smell it? The flowers? It's hyacinths.
Now I really can't let you out of my sight.
Why go to all the trouble of faking a ghost? It didn't look fake to me.
Well, who stands to benefit? Is it to close down the show? You know how superstitious actors are.
Kill the leads and you kill the production.
It had to be Hansen.
Even if he killed Copland for the money, why kill Gwilym, and why threaten me? Wait, Jack.
I know him.
Wrong neighbourhood for sneaking about in the shadows.
I am aware of the neighbourhood.
Inspector Robinson.
Mr Lin.
I was on my way to the theatre in the hope you would be there.
Perhaps you'd like to join me for supper.
Miss Fisher was on her way home.
Actually, Miss Fisher is feeling a tad peckish.
I'd appreciate it if you saw the lady safely home.
You have my word.
Miss Fisher.
I understand my grandmother paid you a visit.
She's a charming woman, your grandmother.
I've never heard her described that way before.
She told me you are to be married.
The marriage is arranged.
It is between our families.
I've never even met the girl.
My family's been importing silk for three generations.
Our business isn't what it was.
The family my grandmother wants me to marry into is the Hus.
They're very powerful, but they need respectability.
So a marriage of convenience to solve both families' problems.
She's in Shanghai, waiting for me to agree to the contract.
You have a problem with an arranged marriage? My problem is marrying into a family that deals in opium.
My father smoked opium.
Once he took to the pipe, he was consumed by it.
First his family, business, honour and then his life, all turned to smoke.
I'm sorry.
It is a dirty business and I want nothing to do with it.
But your granny is keen for you to marry into the Hu family? I had hoped to recover my family's wealth.
But at what cost? To marry or not to marry.
That is the question.
While you decide, I suppose there's nothing to stop us taking supper? Nothing at all.
I'm very sorry about Gwilym Evans, Dot.
Why would anyone want to hurt him? Perhaps it wasn't him they were aiming for.
Miss? At the time, I was wearing part of Miss Esperance's costume.
You think he was killed by mistake? There's one way to find out.
I think it's time we became better acquainted with our ghost.
Dorothea Curtis has a cousin, a Mrs Mobbs.
Doesn't seem right, Miss, to spy on people.
It's all in the service of truth.
You'll have to stop being such a goody-two-shoes.
Leila? Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice.
Alice who, Miss? I think we can assume we have the right Mrs Mobbs.
Don't often get the chance to meet Leila's friends from the theatre.
Don't know why Bart would put on Ruddigore again? You think it's cursed? No, just not very good.
It's not exactly HMS Pinafore, is it? You were an actress? Oh, I flirted with the stage.
It didn't return my affections.
No, I was busy with other things.
Like bringing up Leila.
Hm.
Were you in the production of Ruddigore with Dorothea? No, I'd retired by then.
And that would have been after Dorothea's year away from the stage.
Was her absence for the age-old reason? I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.
Phryne Fisher.
So, what does a lady detective do? Stir up trouble? I'm investigating the murders at the theatre.
And the ghost.
Leila didn't mention the ghost? Dorothea's ghost.
Haunting the theatre.
No wonder the poor girl's been such a wreck.
Dorothea gave you her baby to raise as her own.
Hm.
How did you know? Her reaction to the ghost was the clincher.
I told her the truth about her mother when she turned 18.
That's when she decided to be an actress herself.
So the poor girl thinks the ghost is her mother? How horrible.
Do you have any idea of the whereabouts of Maurice Sheffield? Maurice was a charmer.
He not very practical though.
He tried to talk our Dorothea into acting in the cinema.
Thought he was Cecil bloody B DeMille.
Really? Hm.
Leila doesn't know anything about her father.
Not from me.
She doesn't know who her father is? There's already been enough misery from that story.
But it's Bart Tarrant? Hm.
Do you think there is the slightest chance the ghost really is Dorothea? She always did like an encore.
Even if Leila is Dorothea's daughter, it doesn't change anything.
It gives her a reason to seek revenge.
On? On the theatre that took her mother's life.
Or perhaps she blames Bart.
Leila encouraged him to mount Ruddigore, now he's ruined.
Do we have him? He's in the interview room, sir.
We picked up Hansen at Spencer Street.
He was on the Albury train.
I killed him.
Gwilym Evans? No, no, Walter.
I killed Walter.
I told him it would end badly.
I mean, how could it go on the way it was going? You mean his opium habit.
He developed a taste for it a few months back.
At first it was just the occasional visit to Little Lonsdale Street.
I would have to drag him out to get him ready for the show.
But he Walter wasn't the most agreeable person.
He could be insulting, so he was no longer welcome in the dens.
That's why he needed someone to buy the opium for him.
Walter thought the Chinaman at the theatre could help.
Mr Lin.
Your Chinaman? But that just led to a punch up.
Walter was beside himself.
He couldn't concentrate, he couldn't remember his lines.
To get him through, I convinced the doctor down the lane to give me laudanum.
And that worked? I thought I followed the doctor's instructions to the letter.
I must have put too much in.
I tried to help but I couldn't.
I should have found a way.
But you have to believe me.
I would never do anything to hurt Walter, never.
He meant the world to me.
I didn't mean to kill him.
I didn't mean to kill him.
I checked with Mac.
The amount of laudanum Hansen gave him wasn't anywhere near a lethal dose.
We only have Hansen's word on the amount.
He clearly loved the man, why kill him? Copland's estate might be motivation enough.
As far as I'm concerned, he can cool his heels in a cell until a better suspect comes along.
Anyone could've spiked that flask and put in enough laudanum to do him in.
Do you have someone in particular in mind? Anyone who knew about Copland's dirty little secret.
You forgot to mention your new friend sells opium.
Walter tried to buy opium from some thugs in a laneway.
Lin Chung stepped in when things got ugly.
It's quite a story.
It sounds like you're questioning my judgement.
No, no.
I'm questioning your taste in men.
I didn't know you had such a talent for the dramatic! What are you doing? I'm trying to create a ghost.
Any luck? Not so far.
Thank goodness for small mercies.
Now I'm stumped.
If I were enough of a detective I'd work it out.
I think you're far and away the best detective in the world, Miss.
Thank you, Dot.
Perhaps there are some cases that can't be solved.
Time just runs out and there are no clues left.
Oh, Dot! Why didn't I see it before? You.
Are.
Brilliant! I am? As we all know, this theatre has had more than its fair share of misfortune over the past few days.
The source of that misfortune has been the ghost of Dorothea Curtis, who I will now summon before us.
It's Dorothea! I could almost touch her.
But I'm sorry to say there is no ghost.
Just trickery.
It's a thin curtain of falling sand.
Dot gave me the idea.
Like sand running through an hourglass.
A scene from the one motion picture Dorothea ever made is projected onto the falling sand.
All very clever, but who did it? Someone who knew Dorothea very well.
No, I loved her.
It wasn't Bart.
Dorothea, it's you.
It's really you.
You left me, my love.
You you left me behind.
I had so much to tell you, but I never had the chance.
I had your child and you never knew.
What? A child? The killer is someone who kept Dorothea's letters and could imitate her handwriting.
Someone who had full access to the theatre, enabling him to set up the projector, and to spike Walter Copland's flask with a lethal dose of laudanum.
Maurice Sheffield.
Sheffield? Is that you? It's a trick, sir.
Someone stop this! That's not his only crime.
I didn't kill myself.
You wrote that suicide note.
What? That's ridiculous! You can't believe this! You're the only one who could've faked the ghost.
You, who photographed Dorothea's one foray into the cinema, a picture that never saw the light of day.
I should have killed you all those years ago when I had the chance.
Why did you come back? He stole her from me.
I tried to put it behind me, I did.
Then he comes back from London, like he just did, and puts on Ruddigore.
So you murdered two innocent men.
I wanted him ruined.
His leading man, dead on opening night, he'd be finished.
And Gwilym Evans? That one was meant for you.
She was mine! I killed her so as you'd never have her.
Oh, you look so like her.
That's because she's Dorothea's daughter, Bart.
And yours too.
Is this true? I thought playing Rose would bring me closer to my mother.
I never imagined it would bring a father too.
Thinking of Gwilym Evans? This is where he stood and sang just a few days ago.
Did you Did you like him? I didn't even know him.
Dottie.
You're so beautiful.
I got your note.
I thought you should know.
I agreed to the marriage.
Congratulations.
But I wanted to explain.
There's no explanation necessary.
Nonetheless, you should know I have my reasons.
Which, I'm sure, are honourable.
What my father lost, I hope to regain.
And your new family alliance will bring you that? We provide the Hu family with respectability, and they provide us with their financial resources.
And their opium.
The Hu family trade in many things, and once I am in control, I decide what is imported.
Is it that simple? There is a Chinese proverb the reed which bends to the breeze does not break.
And eventually that reed will stand tall.
You're an idealist, Miss Phryne Fisher, although you hide it.
Guilty as charged.
To ideals.
And your Shanghai bride.
Congratulations.
Flattery from a policeman? You'll turn my head, Jack Robinson.
But there is one thing you didn't figure out.
And that is? My aversion to operetta.
You know I like a mystery.
Let me see.
A bad experience on the stage.
Pirates of Penzance.
The reviewer thought my performance as the Major General was underwhelming.
Why don't you let me judge for myself? I can't remember a word of it.
What rot! Once you've learned one of those songs, it's there for good.
I'm more of a Shakespeare man.
The stage is all yours.
'Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety.
Other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies.
' Perhaps a career in the theatre beckons after all, Inspector.
Think I'll stick to crime.