Deadloch (2023–…): Season 1, Episode 7 - Episode #1.7 - full transcript
I don't think the killer
used two knives.
I think he used one knife
with two blades.
That's Jimmy Cook!
Up! Put it up!
Put it back up!
It's not bad, Connell.
It's a code-black disaster.
Just bring me a fucking suspect
or you're done!
Number 27 on the list.
The night Sam died,
Mike gave her a speeding ticket.
MAN: Killer dyke!
Skye.
We need to talk to you.
It is possible to hate someone
and want them dead
and not fucking murder them!
Then why did you come back to
Deadloch the night your Dad died?
No comment.
Maybe you'd have
remembered the date earlier, Dulcie,
if you were at home with me that weekend
instead of fucking some other woman
in a work shower!
It's just a job, Dulcie.
Right now, my job's more important
than us, Cath.
It's more important than you.
Cease the Feast!
...back there, Gez.
Get me back there right now.
There's dead bodies!
That's the fifth body.
- Sixth.
- Ah, sixth.
- Mmm.
- Even better.
So... how'd it go last night,
with your missus?
Did you work it out?
You want to talk about it more or...?
Yeah, let's go get a wine
and nut out my imploding marriage.
- Really? Oh.
- No, not really.
There's a serial killer targeting men.
We now have male six corpses
lined out in front of us like...
- Yeah, yeah, yeah. OK.
- ...Christmas stockings.
So let's get that sorted first,
shall we?
Alright,
that was my instinct, too.
It's just I'm not the one who
broke up with the missus last night.
Well, I don't know if we
'broke up', broke up.
Look, it doesn't matter.
Let's just confirm that these bodies
are in our column, shall we?
- Fuck me up.
- Yeah, I hear you.
Look, I know it is unpleasant...
But it is our job
and he is our colleague.
James!
Hola!
- Oh, God.
- Fucking wanker.
Oh, fuck, Collins,
you fucking stink.
Yes, that is because
I was in a dead man soup last night.
- You do the talking.
- Yep.
- Hi.
- Gidday, Big Eyes.
'Sup!
Hey, babe. Take that for me?
Right.
Any IDs on these floaters yet?
Ah, negative,
because that is not my job.
OK.
OK.
Right, they all have
these strangulation marks,
cut out tongue, injection site,
etc, etc.
Yeah, how long's
this one been dead, James?
Lack of decomp suggests no more than
48 hours. The same with the rest.
- What? That can't be...
- No. Six men whacked in 48 hours?
- That's not possible. It's bullshit.
- No, sorry, actually, that is right.
Because as I said, this body is not in
an advanced state of decomposition.
And neither are the other five,
even the one that's missing an arm.
I mean, his glenoid cavity is...
James, I think that we would know if
six men had just vanished into thin air,
so there must be another explanation.
OK, well, there's not.
So I'm sorry if this means a little more
work for you, but that's the job.
Now I have autopsies to prepare for
and a police report to file
because the forensic lock-up was
broken into when I was at TEDx Perth.
- What?
- What was broken into?
Yeah, that's right.
The mast from the Loch Nessie
was stolen from the lock-up.
James, how the hell did that happen?
Well, what matters actually, Dulcie,
is what I did afterwards.
I tested Jimmy Cook's crucifix
and confirmed that
it actually has a waterproofing agent
on it that's used on boats.
Now, here's my theory.
I think the killer stole the mast
and used it to make
Jimmy Cook's crucifix.
Sorry, I'm so sorry, what was that?
Oh, thank you so much, James.
This investigation
would be nothing without you.
That is a funny joke.
As if you'd ever thank me.
- Ma'am, that was my theory.
- Yeah, that was your theory, Abby.
We all know that that was
your theory and he just stole it.
Oh! So squishy.
- Stop!
- Ooh!
- It's like fingering a mushroom.
- Just get your fingering out of it.
- I've got gloves on.
- Hang on, hang on.
Fingering a mushroom.
Oh...
Oh, bringing back memories, is it?
Abby, is there anyone from forensics
who can assist us who isn't James?
Um...
- It's so nice to put names to faces.
- Likewise, Kate.
OK, so these bodies...
Yes, so the cellular membranes
are comprehensively ruptured.
The inter-cellular liquid is leaking.
Cool. Cool.
So, interstellar leaking,
which obviously means...
- They were frozen.
- Yeah.
Correct, and then they've been
steadily thawed over the last two days.
Sorry, ma'ams, perhaps they were
submerged somehow.
The water would have provided
a very consistent temperature
to defrost them.
Yeah, I think that's spot-on, Abby.
OK, Kate, so, theoretically our murderer
could have killed any of these men
any time in the last five years.
Absolutely. And shortly after death,
they were each frozen.
I assume IDs are
a matter of urgency, Detectives?
- Yes, thank you Kate. Thank you.
- Great.
- Constable?
- Oh, for me? No, I couldn't.
- She'd love to, Kate.
- Put the gloves on, Big Eyes, go on.
OK.
If the killer's been stockpiling
these bodies for years
then why's she suddenly decided to
offer them up now?
I don't know, but the timing
will be important.
Whatever she has planned next
will make this pile of dead men
look like A Muppet's Christmas Carol.
We can't keep this to ourselves.
People need to be aware of the threat.
Yeah.
Well, we've got Skye O'Dwyer
behind bars,
so everything's alright, isn't it?
Collins.
Isn't it?
Senior Sergeant! Senior Sergeant!
Over here!
Over here, Senior Sergeant.
- Senior Sergeant Collins!
- Ah, good morning.
Detective Collins?
Last night, six bodies were
recovered from Deadloch Lake.
They are in the process of
being formally identified.
Now, this is a very complex development
and until the police have a full picture
we are encouraging the community
to operate with an abundance of caution.
Are these deaths
the work of the Deadloch Ripper?
Uh, well, Megan, that is a new nickname
that you've come up with
and I won't be adopting,
but, yes, there is compelling evidence
to suggest that
the individuals in the lake
are connected to both the recent
and historical murders in Deadloch.
Is it true that you're holding
Skye O'Dwyer as a suspect?
She remains a person of interest, yes.
How, then have six men have been
killed if the Deadloch Widow...
The Deadloch Ripper.
...the Deadloch Widow
is still behind bars?
We are still building a picture,
and I won't be using
either of those names, OK?
Does anything else connect these men?
Aside from their gender?
Ah, we are... Like I said,
we're still building a picture.
Detective, what measures
are police taking
to stop Deadloch men from
being hunted down like human game?
We are doing everything that we can
to ensure their safety
but like I said, Megan,
in the short term,
we are encouraging everyone to exercise
an abundance of caution...
No, no, no, us men don't
need to be exercising caution.
- Ah...
- Us men are not the problem.
Ah, Mr McGangus is not
a part of this press conference.
The person killing us is the problem.
I mean, how hard is that
for you women to understand?
No, believe me, Phil, us women
completely understand the concept.
What we need is these copettes
to do their job.
Thank you for your input, Phil.
And if they don't?
I'll be escalating my response, Megan,
to match the threat to
the good men of Deadloch.
Ah, no, you won't, Phil.
You won't be doing that
because that is illegal.
We'll see. I won't be taking questions.
Mr McGangus?
I have a question for you.
- Is that another body?
- Nah, that's a sheep.
People treat this lake
like such a junkyard.
So, did you two notice
any bodies floating around
when you were setting up your fucking
waterborne sex-toy sexfest
fucking whatever the fuck it was
last night?
Yes, Detective, we saw six corpses
bobbing around like gnocchis in a pot
but we decided to ignore it
and just watch a four-hour film
about Joan's tits instead.
I know that tone. Fascist... Fash...
Do you mean facetiousness?
- Is that what you're trying to say?
- Yes.
Of course there were no bodies
when we were setting up.
Yeah. Bring it back to green, sweetpea.
Sam O'Dwyer's body was found out here
during that nudie
Feastival photo shoot wasn't it?
Yes, but he was only discovered
because Jimmy was wanking in the bushes.
- Are you writing with a straw?
- Yeah.
Bit of a coincidence, isn't it?
All these murders just started happening
when your Feastival kicked off.
Yes, it is a coincidence.
What's your point?
Detective Redcliffe?
- I made an ID!
- Abby made an ID!
- Oop!
- Oh, jinx!
Cancel your Feastival
of food and fucking nightmares.
It's over.
So it's true, then?
That mad bitch has killed six more men?
It appears to be
the work of our killer, yes.
That's a lot of men, Connell.
A lot of good men.
Great men, even. The greatest men.
Well, sir, their IDs aren't back yet,
but, yes, I am sure
they were all wonderful.
The fucking nerve of her.
Sir, in the interest of public safety
I decided to hold a press conference...
Right, well, you're gonna need to
hold a press conference.
Yes sir, I just did that...
I'd do it myself, but we've docked
at Macquarie Island
with Princess Mary looking at
some smelly fucking seabirds.
Smells like fucking hot garbage
out here.
What? I can't read that.
That font size is for cobbler elves.
- Look harder!
- Sorry, Commissioner.
Can you just tell me?
- Alright, fuck it!
- Geoffrey Haddick.
...got your suspect in custody,
don't you Connell?
Geoffrey Had-dick.
You've got her in custody, yeah?
Ah, yes. Yes we do, sir.
We... We do.
Yeah, so just keep that
killer bitch O'Dwyer
where she is and no more blokes
are gonna die, are they?
Skye couldn't have killed
Geoff Haddick.
Why not?
Because Geoff Haddick died
three years ago
and Skye was living in London
three years ago.
So? Skye said she wasn't in Deadloch
the night of Sam's murder
but she actually was.
Yes, but I can verify that
Skye was in London
because Cath and I visited on holiday.
And when Geoff, supposedly,
reversed his car off a cliff
along Settler Highway
I was with Skye at Madam Tussauds
staring at a wax version
of Victoria Beckham.
Well, that's fucked, isn't it?
Yeah.
In more ways than one.
You're listening to Pink Flag.
I'm Marie, I'm filling in for Hamish,
who's left town
on account of the serial killer.
Um, yes. And, in related news,
all further Feastival events
have been officially cancelled,
including tonight's
Pottery and Pinot event with Gez
in the Town Hall pottery studio.
So you're sure
you want to stay open, Vic?
Things are bad enough without
depriving people of neenish tarts, Ray.
- Yeah, but with Skye in custody and...
- Ray.
Yeah. Righto.
O'Dwyer!
Where's the fucking Tammy vid at?
Um, I fucking haven't taken it yet.
Ronnie!
Get in the car! You and Dad
are going to Launceston.
See youse all later.
Can we go to McDonald's on the way?
Yes, just get in the car! Christ!
Get the footage, 'cause we're gonna
fucking fuck that Tammy bitch up.
I'll send the video
to fucking Luke Caddy
and fuck up her footy career.
Fuck, Hunter, just chill out.
There's a serial killer, dude.
So?
Adele's Dad has taken her
and her six brothers to Strahan.
This is cooked.
I know, everyone's pissing off.
Luke Caddy said he's not
gonna come see me
until all the murdering's stopped.
It's bullshit.
Bet you wish you'd taken Margaret's
scholarship to Hobart now, eh?
Yeah, nah,
I'd still take the serial killer.
Dulce says the killer is targeting men.
Do 17-year-olds count as men?
No clue.
Yeah, and 17-year-olds, like,
their mums still write their names
in their clothes,
but, also, Hunter
spoofed in Amber's schoolbag last term,
so it's, like, a real line-ball, yeah?
"I left knives at your place.
"If you get attacked,
stab the thigh artery."
Fucking hell, Adele!
OK, Abby and Kate
have identified four more men.
Their families
never reported them missing.
They are Gunnar Jorgensen,
Hamish Ferguson,
Richard Lowan and Kieran Butcher.
Any news on the missing arm?
Still missing, although presumably
it belongs to Richard Lowan's body
because Richard Lowan's body
doesn't have an arm.
Right, OK, so these four men
went missing
between early 2018 and late 2019,
according to next-of-kin.
Yes, and in related news
Denise from Immigration,
whose daughter
just had her first baby, FYI,
she confirmed that Skye
didn't return to Australia
between September of 2017
and May of 2021.
So not only did Skye not know these men,
we've been advised that
they had absolutely nothing to do
with the football club.
So aside from being male,
white and dead,
we have no idea what they have in common
with the other victims.
So, to summarise,
we have six new victims
and now we need a new suspect
and a new MO.
- Can you knife me in the eye?
- Not easily, no.
- Uh, so can I release Skye, then?
- Oh, I don't...
It's just that Nadiyah and Cath have
been texting me very aggressively
since 6am.
As far as we know,
Sam O'Dwyer was still the first victim.
He meant something to the killer.
Skye came back that night for a reason.
I think whatever happened that night
holds the key to who our killer is.
So, what am I doing with Skye?
Oh, just hold her
for a little bit longer.
OK, well, any help
with the messaging surrounding that
would be appreciated.
Just don't talk to the press, Sven, OK?
No, I meant with Cath.
Well, I... I can't help you with that.
Oh, 'cause you broke up?
I mean, well...
Yeah, I don't know if we broke up,
specifically, or...
- No?
- OK, no, no, no, let's just move on.
We move on.
OK, so who else
are we looking at then, hey?
Who else?
Madam Chutney? Old fucking... Vic?
- Vic?
- No, we've been through this.
Margaret was in Riomaggiore,
Vic has a dodgy hip.
Sven, what is this poster?
Is that a ringworm?
Oh, sorry, it's the pube
from Sam O'Dwyer's mouth.
I printed it A0 size at Officeworks
'cause I thought A0
meant the smallest size.
But it doesn't.
It actually means the biggest size.
Which is, like, crazy, 'cause it's zero.
Forget about pube lady.
What about your strange wife?
You mean my es-tranged wife?
- Whatever. You get the gist.
- Yeah, Cath's not a night murderer.
She falls asleep at 9pm
with her hand on my boob.
You know, or, she did do that
until recently.
It's not a thing. Let's...
It doesn't matter.
Cath.
Ooh, do you want me to...
- Do you want us to turn the lights...?
- No.
- Do you wanna get under the desk?
- No, I don't want you to do that, no.
- I can do it.
- OK.
- I'm an adult. I can do it.
- Thank God.
We'll be here if you want to debrief
or anything, Dulce, won't we?
Nup.
Hey, Sven, recheck the alibis
for all the women the night Sam died.
One of them's sitting on a secret.
I'm gonna squeeze it out of her
like an ingrown hair.
Oh, God.
- Cath.
- Hi.
Oh, love, thanks for
bringing that in for me.
No, it's for Skye.
I've seen Oz.
I know how bad prison food is.
That's for you. Your stuff.
Right, OK. Yep, um...
Yeah, some time might be good.
We need to draw up
a custody agreement for the dogs.
Hi, Cath!
No? OK.
Is everything OK, ma'am?
Yeah, yep. Everything is just perfect.
It's all perfect.
- OK.
- So, what's that?
Oh, we've identified the last body.
It's Daniel Tate.
- Danny Tate?
- Yep.
- Sexual assault Danny Tate?
- Yes, ma'am.
Sven!
Hey, Tombo, you know
we can see you out here, right?
What are you doing?
There's a killer on the loose, dude.
Tammy, um, I need to tell you something.
Fuck, I knew it.
- You're in love with me, aren't you?
- Oh, shit.
Explains why he started hanging out
with the footy boys.
Heartbreak.
- Exactly.
- No, I filmed you pulling a bong.
Yeah, I know. It was fucking funny.
No...
Hunter told me to film you
so he could sent it to Luke Caddy
so Luke Caddy wouldn't recruit you.
I'm sorry.
You tried to stitch me up
to get in with Hunter?
Oh, that's shameful.
I'm not gonna give him the video,
and it probably
wouldn't have worked anyway.
Nah, dude. Maybe if I was you,
it wouldn't have worked.
If I was a white dude like you
I could stab a swan and eat it
and I would suffer zero consequences.
- Maybe gastro.
- Maybe gastro, yeah, true.
But I'm a black woman.
I don't get the hundreds of chances
to make mistakes that you get.
Did you ever think about that?
No, I didn't.
Yeah, no shit. You were just
thinking about yourself.
You were gonna use me to
get what you want, like I don't matter.
Fuck.
I'm sorry. I wanna be your mate.
I don't need you! I have mates.
- One mate.
- One mate. Miranda.
And unlike you,
I've never had to explain to her
that just because she's a white dude
that doesn't mean that
she's important than me.
- I'm not a white dude, though.
- I'm making a point, M. Fuck!
Unlike you, Miranda's a good dude.
Let's go.
This is our place. Just...
Yeah, this is our place. You go.
I can't help you with this one, dude.
Danny Tate, arrested for rape.
Richard Lowans,
stalking, domestic abuse.
Kieran Butcher, DV.
Hamish Ferguson, sexual assault.
Gunnar Jorgensen, DV and sexual assault.
Geoffrey Haddick,
attempted to murder his wife.
Gavin Latham, domestic abuse.
Trent Latham, domestic abuse.
Jimmy Cook, stalking,
indecent public masturbation.
Rod Dixon,
evidence of sexual harassment...
- Yeah, yeah. OK, I get it. Collins!
- ...and emotional abuse.
11 men are dead.
And we are looking for a pattern
in our victims, aren't we?
Yes, so, what is it?
They're white, they're men,
they all look like varieties of potato.
Hold the fucking phone.
Our killer isn't just targeting
any white man out there.
She is targeting...
- Cunts.
- ...abusers.
Your term works too.
Fucking hell, Collins.
You fucking cracked it!
Oh.
- Sorry, try it again.
- No, no.
- Let me try it once more.
- I can't even look you in the eye. No, you fucked it.
But hang on, Collins.
What about Sam O'Dwyer, hey?
He kicked off the cunt cull, didn't he?
But dicking around on his missus
hardly ranks up with
what these fucking turds got up to.
OK. Ah...
His... His...
philandering had consequences,
at least for Vic and Skye?
Mmm... That's not enough.
Ma'ams, this victim profile
kind of reminds me
of the Angel Makers of Nagyrev.
Have you heard that podcast about them?
I'll link it to you. It's on eCast.
- Who?
- I don't have that.
Basically, in Hungary in the 1920s,
one woman gave arsenic
to another woman
so she could poison her abusive husband.
And then it all just
kind of grew from there.
Grew from there?
What do you mean, "grew from there"?
Well, this woman realised that
actually heaps of women in the town
were being abused by crappy men,
and so she decided to
solve their problems by killing them.
But then other women
got wind of the situation
and they decided to kill their...
Their dog-shit men too.
Yeah.
They managed to keep it a secret
for about 15 years
before they got caught,
which checks out,
because women kill to solve a problem
not to get attention.
Isn't that right, ma'am?
Ah, yes, yes.
Female killers don't want notoriety.
They work very hard
to camouflage their actions.
So, what about the lady who started
the killing in this Nodule place?
How'd she know what
all these dog-shit men were doing?
Was she the town flap-waxer?
No, ma'am, she was the town midwife.
She was the closest thing Nagyrev
had to a doctor.
All the women were her patients.
Doctor Mayor.
Big Eyes, what about the women
connected to our men?
The victims of the victims?
Were any of them Aleyna's patients?
Probably all of them, ma'am.
The next closest doctor
is in Carnage Bay
and he's not allowed to see
female patients without supervision.
Mm, crook.
Sven, check Doctor Mayor's alibis.
Ooh, I already did that.
On the night that Sam died,
Aleyna said that she was working
in Glenvalleyglen.
What's that, a whisky joint?
She working part-time
at a whisky joint?
- No, it's a hospital.
- Oh.
Doctor Mayor was working
at the hospital. Fuck-a-duck-a-do.
Well, no, actually,
I called the hospital,
and, no, Aleyna wasn't working.
But, actually, she was working.
- What?
- But even though she wasn't working.
Yeah, g'day, Ray Pies. It's me, Eddie.
Yeah, just on the down-low,
the killer's targeting shit men
and she's really ramping up,
and there's every chance
that she'll relax her brief.
And, well...
You cried when your dickie
was in me last night and, uh...
while that doesn't compare
to some of the shit
these other blokes have been up to,
it might put a target on your back
because that shit was off.
It was very off. Said it at the time.
Even though I knew
they were happy tears,
it was still, you know...
kind of ruined the mood.
So... Watch yourself and, um...
I'd better get on the blower to Phil now
and give him the same warning.
Not about the dickie stuff,
just, you know...
Ah, yeah. Anyway, toorah.
- I'm fucking Ray.
- Oh, are you, ma'am?
OK.
Yeah, I reckon I might like him, hey?
Yeah, that's really nice.
So how far to Glenvalleyglenross
General Hospital, then?
- Um, about 10 minutes, ma'am.
- Oh, OK.
Oh, look, a cow.
Cath think I'm at daycare?
I don't know, she's not talking to me.
Least your family don't think
you're a serial killer.
Imagine how bad that would be, mate.
Skye, a few days ago forensics
discovered a foreign hair sample
on your father's body.
Does she do this for you every day?
It was a pubic hair.
I heard you and Cath fight last night.
Really giving your life
the nuclear treatment, aren't you, mate?
The hair was in his mouth, Skye.
There was also a head wound
and high levels of alcohol
in his system.
We think that he was
sexually intimate with someone
the night he was murdered.
Do you know who that person might be?
Skye...
- If it was you...
- Oh, fuck up, Dulce!
Well, then can you just tell me
what is going on?
Because I have played bloody Clue
against you before, Skye,
and I can tell when
you're keeping a secret.
Can't talk right now,
Detective Collins.
Eating a very happy egg.
Mmm.
It's my birthday today.
- Oh, happy birthday.
- Thanks.
OK, so 10th of June 2017.
Like I told your colleague,
Mayor Rahme definitely wasn't
rostered on to work that night,
but she did admit and personally treat
a female patient.
A patient came in for infertility.
Nope, sorry, had a champagne with lunch.
Injuries. It says injuries.
- What sort of injuries?
- I'll just check now.
Ma'am, Sam O'Dwyer sustained
a head injury the night he was murdered.
What if it was from a fight?
With pube lady?
You reckon Aleyna's patient
could be pube lady?
Maybe.
OK, so the patient came in with
injuries consistent with DV.
Uh, she was admitted
under the name "Anna Spanner".
What sort of
animated carpenter name is that?
- Sounds like a fake name, doesn't it?
- Are there any photos?
There are.
Thanks for
putting a rush on this, Kate.
No problem.
OK, so Skye O'Dwyer's DNA
is not a match for the pubic hair.
Thank you, Kate. Thank you.
Of the two possible outcomes
of that test,
that one is by far my favourite.
Agreed. Oh, funny.
Funny?
Skye's DNA matches
one of the samples on the system.
One of the victims?
No, looking at the dates...
this sample was taken on
the mass DNA testing day of all the men.
Has no name on it.
Ah, right. Well, Skye's son
was accidentally tested that day,
so it's probably just him.
No, it's not mitochondrial DNA.
Sorry, Skye's not the mother?
So, hang on, what's the connection?
Skye and the sample
share the same father.
So Sam fathered another child?
Yeah, looks like it.
Can you tell who it is?
No, samples are just numbers.
Kate, do me a favour.
The hair that was found
in Sam O'Dwyer's mouth,
can you run it against that sample?
- Yeah, good idea.
- Thank you.
Detective, I'm sorry
I'm not at the hospital...
Collins.
I know why Sam O'Dwyer was the first.
He was a proper cunt after all.
Photos of your injuries.
Cracked pelvis,
fractured wrist,
broken elbow.
This is a terrible, bloody assault.
Did Sam do this to you?
Had he been violent with you before?
Sorry, is this really relevant
to your investigation?
Someone knew what Sam did to Victoria,
and they murdered him because of it.
Yeah, and they've continued to
knock off men since then.
So, yeah, Cath, it is kind of relevant.
Vic, after Aleyna
admitted you to the hospital
did she go back to the shack
and kill Sam?
No.
I did it.
I killed Sam.
- Vic, I advise...
- No, Cath, I've had enough.
No-one else is getting caught up
in this. It's gone far enough.
Vic, what happened that night?
Sam and I got into a row.
Um...
And he started getting rough with me,
and I fought back, and I killed him.
Mm-hm.
How?
I hit him on the back of the head,
with a poker from the fireplace.
And then what happened?
And then he stumbled back
onto the balcony...
and fell into the lake.
And you didn't do anything else to him?
No.
That's how I killed him.
What was Sam wearing that night?
He was in his jocks.
And what was
the disagreement about, Vic?
I can't remember now.
- Hmm?
- Didn't take much to get him going.
Was there anyone else in the shack
with you and Sam that night?
- No.
- Anyone else that might have seen...
- Skye wasn't there, Dulcie.
- I'm not asking about Skye, Vic.
It was just me.
I killed him, with a poker and a lake.
Did you plan on killing him?
No, of course not.
Even in my darkest moments,
I never wanted Sam dead.
I wanted him to be a better man.
I wanted him to say out loud
that he was sorry for what he did
to me and Skye and our family.
I wanted him to...
to say sorry and mean it.
Not just for us, but for Sam, too,
because...
...what a waste of a life he was.
So, no, I didn't want him dead.
And trust me...
...death doesn't bring the peace
you expect, Detective.
So Sam fell in the water.
You left the shack.
What happened next?
I opened the door
and Vic was on my doorstep.
Mm-hm.
- How did she get there?
- I don't know.
Her legs were all scratched up
and she was only wearing one shoe.
I assume she walked.
To your surgery? That's 6 Ks.
Yeah, I didn't ask her to draw me a map,
I just helped.
What happened after
you drove her to the hospital?
I went home.
Must be hard seeing a patient
getting beaten up like that.
Yeah.
Unfortunately, it's not rare.
You know, this is domestic violence.
It's not that Amazonian fish
that swims up your penis.
Is there anyone who can
confirm your version
of the events of that night?
Yes, I was there that night, darling.
Aleyna and I were
brainstorming the Feastival.
But once the three of us
got Victoria inside, I left.
You left?
Yes, well, you know,
Vic and I were never close.
Sam was Rod's friend.
It was better that I didn't get involved
in Sam and Vic's private affairs.
Better for who?
For you?
Sorry, Margaret.
Did you say "the three of us"?
Yep.
I was cleaning the surgery
and Vic rocked up.
Sam had beaten her black and blue,
the cunt.
So, then what happened?
You went out and killed him as payback?
Fuck, no. I got Vic inside
and helped Aleyna patch her up.
Got 'em both into Aleyna's car.
When they left I just went
and finished the floors and...
Sharelle, you what?
I went home. To bed.
Can anyone colloborate that?
Co... Am I saying that right?
No, no, you're not.
You're not saying that right.
Yeah, Gavin. Gavin can corroborate that.
I was with him at the time.
Want his number? I can give it to you.
I don't think it's gonna answer, but.
Did you see anyone else that night?
Mum had rang me to tell me
she was leaving Dad.
I told her to wait
for me to fly down, but...
that was a decision
40 years in the making.
There was no stopping her.
Mum went to the Doorbell,
searching for Dad.
Jimmy told her he was at the shack
with one of his girls.
Mum was livid.
She told Jimmy she was gonna kill him.
So that's why Jimmy
was blackmailing you.
You paid him to protect your mum.
Well, I wasn't rewarding him
for his service to public wanking.
So, then,
what happened that night?
Soon as the plane landed,
I had, like, 50 missed calls
from Aleyna and Sharelle.
Once I knew Mum was safe,
I fanged it to the shack
to confront that piece of shit.
And that's when Mike
gave you the speeding ticket?
Yep.
But when I got there, Dad...
was gone.
First we thought
he'd gotten the shits up,
but when he didn't come back
after a few days,
Mum began to think
she'd killed him, accidentally.
So that's why she waited to
file his missing person's report.
Yeah, well, everyone assumed
he'd gone, so...
we didn't correct the record.
- Mm-hm.
- Do you think she killed him?
I don't know.
But even if she did, you saw the photos.
The bruises. The busted hip.
Aleyna, Margaret, Sharelle and I,
we knew she didn't deserve to be
punished for defending herself
so we made a pact to
keep our traps shut.
What, you made a pact?
Why didn't you tell me?
'Cause it was a secret.
You said there was
a girl at the shack.
- Any idea who that was?
- Nuh.
I've told you enough.
Go ahead, Kate.
You were right, Detective.
The pubic hair belongs to
the mother of Sam's other child.
Who's the other child?
Ah, we don't know.
It was an unmarked sample
from the DNA testing day.
Thanks, Kate.
It must have been
one of the teenagers, ma'ams.
We didn't have permission
to take their samples,
so none of them were labelled.
Well, what boys were there?
They all look like big thumbs to me.
Um, there was
Callum, Hunter, Dolph, Tom.
Callum's little brother, Jasper.
Although, Sam would have been really
dead by the time Jasper was...
Holy shit gods.
He's the dead fucking spit.
Loch Nessie.
Vanessa, do you recognise this boat?
Mm-hm, that's Sam's boat.
- Mm-hm. What's its name?
- The Loch Nessie.
The Nessie.
That's the nickname that
Phil called you yesterday
when he was talking to the press.
Did Sam O'Dwyer name his boat after you?
I don't know, maybe.
It was 20 years ago. I can't remember.
- 20 years ago?
- Mm-hm.
20, 24 years.
Something like that.
Vanessa, you were 15 then.
Was that when you started seeing Sam?
That's statutory rape.
Like, you wouldn't understand this,
because you're a lesbian...
...and you're not anything.
Sam was a red-blooded man
in an unhappy marriage.
He said we had a connection
that wasn't about our ages.
He said I was the only person
who really got him.
Vanessa, he groomed you.
My hair?
Mate, he was in his 40s.
You were Year 10.
You should have been in home ec class,
fucking up an omelette.
I was in Year 9, actually,
and everyone said
I was really mature for my age.
- Who's everyone?
- Sam. Rod Dixon.
Look, I already told you this.
Men have always been obsessed with me.
This is why I can't have female friends.
Women can't hack
the attention I get from men.
You're both just jealous of me.
Vanessa, we know that Dolph
is Sam O'Dwyer's son.
Were you still seeing Sam
when he disappeared?
Not often.
Every time I tried to end it completely,
Sam would threaten to tell Trent,
and I was scared about
Trent would react.
He had a bit of a temper.
Were you with Sam
the night he disappeared?
Vanessa, Sam O'Dwyer
sexually assaulted you as a minor.
He blackmailed you into a relationship.
By the sounds of it,
Rod Dixon knew about all that
and did nothing to help you.
Trent abused you, Gavin and Jimmy
sexually harassed you...
Oh, my God, you're blowing this all
way out of proportion.
It was fine.
It's just... men being men, you know?
Yeah. We do know.
It's just far from fucking fine, mate.
Vanessa, your pubic hair
was found in Sam O'Dwyer's mouth
the night he disappeared,
the night that we believe
he was murdered.
- So?
- So it places you at the crime scene.
You think I killed Sam?
No...
I was there that night, sure,
but I went out a window
as soon as Vic showed up.
Ask Sharelle. She picked me up.
I swear, I didn't kill him!
I'm in the business
of keeping people alive,
no matter who they are.
I didn't kill him.
No, I had absolutely
no reason to, darling.
I didn't kill him.
We've been through this.
I didn't kill him.
He was fucking monster.
But I didn't kill him.
Yes. That's how I killed him.
- Vic didn't kill him.
- Hard agree.
If Sam O'Dwyer's head wound
was the cause of death,
then, sure, charge Vic.
Charge them all as accessories,
but that's not what fucking happened.
None of them knew anything
about the strangling,
the tongues,
what Sam was wearing.
Someone else knew
what Sam was doing to Vic.
The police divers
have found the arm in the lake.
Great, but we don't have time to
reunite long-lost body parts right now.
- We can head out there, ma'ams.
- Yes, we can go.
- Charge the women, or release them.
- Cath...
That holding cell has
a maximum capacity of three people.
They'll be up
under each other's armpits.
Either charge them, release them,
or I'll be applying for a court order,
Detective.
But I confessed. I don't understand.
You've been through a lot tonight, Vic.
You need to come with me.
You told them about
me and your Dad, didn't you?
No. Unlike you, I don't out people.
Ladies, we need to debrief
about this. Where can we go?
Well, Gez gave me the keys
to the pottery studio.
- Skye...
- Na, I can't.
Skye!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
- What do we want?
- Reclaim the night!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
What are those dick nuggets doing?
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
- I said, what do we want?
- Reclaim the night!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
- What do we want?
- Reclaim the night!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
What's going on, Phil?
We heard you she-cops
were letting O'Dwyer go.
So if you're not gonna protect us,
then we're gonna take matters
into our own hands.
Oh, yeah?
And how exactly do you plan on
defending yourself, Phil, eh?
We'll be using any means necessary,
sweetheart.
And we're gonna make sure
that man-killer O'Dwyer
doesn't try anything else, OK?
No, no, Phil, you are not.
I order everyone to drop their...
their gardening trowels...
- and go home.
- No.
No, no, no, we're gonna
reclaim the night.
We're not gonna sit in silence.
We're not gonna live with fear.
Whoa, whoa, whoa
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa-whoa...
- ♪ Whoa, whoa, whoa-whoa ♪
- ♪ Whoa, whoa-whoa ♪
♪ You're the voice
Try and understand it ♪
♪ Make a noise and make it clear ♪
♪ Whoa, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh ♪
♪ Whoa-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh...
Hey! Hey get off the fucking road!
- Get off the road!
- Move! Move, move, move, move!
Get up!
- What the fuck?!
- That was the Pro-Bro ute.
- Did you see their face?
- No. Let's go. Come on.
What the fuck?!
Get onto
the Carnage Bay cops.
Yeah, give me
that fucking radio.
Attention, all units.
Every fucker in Tasmania.
We are in pursuit of a green ute.
A real aggressive, lolly-frog green ute
heading out of town.
We require back up.
I repeat, we need back up.
Drive faster, Collins, drive!
There's pademelons everywhere
and I am trying not to hit them!
Get up the dirt road!
Yes, I am.
That is exactly what I'm doing!
Where'd she fucking go?
Can you see?
I can't see anything
because you are talking too loud!
Oh, there's no fucking sense!
There it is. There it is, Collins.
This is Redcliffe. We've located
the vehicle on Chapel's Lane.
We request urgent back up.
Agh...
- Bum!
- Fuck me up!
Ugh.
So it was submerged under
a tree root, did you say?
- Yeah, it was.
- Wow, that's crazy, you know?
What's the visibility like down there?
I used to dive, that's all.
Um, I'm actually thinking of
getting back into it.
- Mm.
- So, maybe, uh, sometime...
- Sven?
- ...if you would like to do...
- Sven?
- Sorry. Yep?
Sven!
Why is there a tow-truck here?
- Oh, ah, Vince... That's Vince.
- Ah-huh?
- I'm in love with him.
- OK.
He found, like, a car in there.
A full car.
Four-wheel drive, 7-seater,
perfect condition, apparently.
It is amazing what people
will just, like, throw into this lake.
What do you think his vibe is? Like...
- I think he's dead, Sven.
- Not him... No.
Alright, fellas,
keep it coming.
That's the way. Two-by-two.
- Aleyna!
- Hurry up!
What's going on?
Phil called an emergency
men's-only town hall meeting,
where they voted him in
as caretaker mayor
because they're a bunch of dogs!
- Why is there a cop over there?
- Where is the lie there, Gez?
Oi, oi, oi, oi, guys, guys.
Why is there a fucking bus?
Someone at the meeting suggested
bussing all of the men out of town.
They're taking every remaining
Deadloch man over the age of 17
to some secure, undisclosed location
until the Deadloch Widow-slash-Ripper
is apprehended or gunned down.
Are you getting on the bus, Tom?
I kinda don't wanna die, Dulcie.
Yeah, yeah. And Vic and I think
that's a really good instinct, Dulce.
Oh, I can stay, sweetpea.
No, I won't cope if
something happens to you, Gez.
For one thing, I don't know
the passwords to anything,
but more than that,
you're my full heart.
Just go. Go!
Alright, fellas,
we're moving out!
Good luck, Ray Pies.
Hey, do you reckon you could
stop calling me Ray Pies?
Why?
Just say it fast
and think about what you're saying.
Ray Pies. Ray Pies.
Rape Eyes, Rape Eyes, Ra...
- Oh!
- Yeah.
- Gotcha.
- Thanks.
Look, can I come just come with him?
He's all I've got.
You can't, Vanessa.
Please, Phil, it's me.
Men only.
- Phil.
- On ya, Phil.
No, you're welcome mate.
You're welcome.
We look after our own around here.
Don't worry, Senior Sergeant.
We've picked up your slack.
You can thank us later.
Bye, Mikey. Love you.
Who's "we" Phil?
Hey? Who else has picked up my slack?
Yeah, well, I put a call in
to a mate, didn't I?
'Cause you're useless as tits on a bull.
Come on.
Detective!
Ah, right.
OK.
Really?
OK, ah, Detective, we need to
get to the station, so, um...
Bye, Ray. Yep.
Detective!
What the fuck's going on?
Who are these fucking dickturds?
- Ah, Connell.
- Commissioner Hastings.
You've set all the killers free.
Skye O'Dwyer wasn't in the country.
I don't just mean O'Dwyer,
I mean the whole bloody lot of them.
I came in, looked at your
little fucking murder board
and figured it out
in 10 minutes flat, ladies.
It's been staring you in the face
this whole time.
This town is full of man-hating lesbians...
...with a taste for man murder.
Sir, we don't believe that
the women are involved, sir.
These Carnage Bay boys told me
that they were all in here
and that you even got a confession
out of one of them.
And what do you girls do?
You let them go and one of them
tries to run the men over
like they're skittles
in a fucking bowling alley.
- Sir, if you could please just listen...
- Nuh!
Effective immediately, I'm taking over.
You and your little pocket mate here
are no longer calling the shots.
- What'd you call me? You can't do that!
- The women don't add up, sir!
You know what doesn't add up, Collins?
Your wife is the local vet.
She has access to Pentobarbital.
Had she been investigated?
No! She's representing the women!
And then we've got
this lady Mayor Rahme, doctor, swimmer.
Why isn't she behind bars?
'Cause they've all got
fucking alibis, mate!
So if one can't do it,
another one will step in.
- No...
- They're sharing the load?
We are not talking about a group of
women in a school carpool here, sir.
Then who do you think is doing it, then?
- Well, that's a good question...
- At present we don't have a...
- We...
- It's...
It is more that we...
we know who didn't do it, sir.
Exactly. We don't know...
How fucking compelling.
Commissioner, please,
we just need more time.
- We are very close...
- 11 men are dead.
I'm not fingering my hole
while those women make plans
to massacre more men
by the light of the full fucking moon.
We have to act now.
I'm bringing those psycho bitches in.
- What?
- Hey?
We don't have enough evidence
to arrest them, sir.
I know you don't.
That's why you're not running the case.
I'm getting warrants
and raiding those women's houses.
It's not them.
Well, let's find out which one of us
is right, Detective,
once and for all, shall we?
Boys!
Guns, enforcers, ballistic vests on.
Fucko man fuckedness!
I have to warn them.
Hey, hey, don't be a dickhead, dickhead.
I cannot stay here.
Hastings will make charges stick.
He just wants results,
even if it's a complete crock.
Collins, Collins,
if you get involved,
then Hastings will take your badge, OK?
You help the women
by proving it's not them.
Alright, let's move out!
Hi, ma'ams.
Sorry, you're probably really busy,
but they just pulled a car
out of the lake.
I think that the killer submerged
the bodies inside the car two days ago.
And then I think they dived down
and released the bodies
just when it suited their purpose.
No, actually, no.
I know that they did that,
because all the corpses had
seatbelt markings their chests.
Anyway, we're still
waiting to search the vehicle
but we can't
because my ex-fiancé is a dick.
So... Sorry for swearing on the phone,
ma'am, sorry. I'm just tired.
And also my ex-fiancé is a dick.
Are you guys finished?
James, I really need to find out
who the owner is.
This could be the missing link
in the whole investigation.
Ooh, the missing link.
Look at you, acting like
a police officer, Sven.
What?
James, I really think you should
flag down that bus and get on it.
No, the killer
is targeting cunts, James.
They're targeting cunts.
And you are a cunt.
You're the biggest cunt I've ever met.
And you should get on the bus!
OK, OK, OK, we need to talk seriously
about getting you on
some mood stabilisers, yeah?
It's exactly what Dad had to do with Mum
when she was approaching 30.
- She's 24!
- I'm 24.
- She's 24.
- Do you not know how old I am?
- See you at home, baby.
- Oh, my...
I'm not your baby.
- She's so much better than you!
We're literally
not even together.
I hate you!
Forensics are clear.
- Let's just... Let's do this.
- OK.
Mm-hm.
See, I told you
this is what you all needed.
Great work, ladies.
This is very therapeutic.
We're telling our brains
that we're safe.
Cath, I'm having a panic attack.
Well, that's impossible, Aleyna.
Lying like this, and the singing,
and doing the eye thing.,
we are calming
our parasympathetic nervous system.
Aleyna, you are not doing yourself
any favours.
- Oh, my God!
- What?
Margaret's been arrested.
What for?
Police!
Agh! No!
Wh...?
Hello, ladies.
What are you all up to?
Hi, Annie, how are you?
Wow! Six months sober. Oh, my God.
Well done, you.
No, it's not oversharing,
No, I love it. Great.
Anyway, my name's Sven,
I'm from Deadloch Police.
I'm just calling about
a vehicle identification number.
Is that something
you might be able to help me with?
Yeah, sure, happy to hold, Annie.
Thanks.
Cheers.
Congrats again.
Yeah, I know. I couldn't do it,
that's for sure.
Alright, thanks a lot.
It's amazing what you find
when you actually look.
Isn't it, girls?
Tongues.
In all your mates' freezers.
No. No. No, this isn't right.
It is fucking right.
Clearly you girls didn't have the balls
to finish what you started so...
you're welcome.
We got em, boys!
Top bloody effort.
We did it!
Oh, fuck!
This is bad, Collins.
This is really fucking bad.
It is the women.
We were fucking wrong. We were wrong.
No.
No, it's not the women.
Well, what about all the tongues
in the fucking freezers, then?
What, were they planted?
Are they being framed?
Like, what's... what's the killer doing?
They did it for the same reason
they released the bodies at the lake.
And the same reason they showed us Sam.
Collins, what is going on in
that fuzzy-headed brain of yours?
Come on, let me in. Let me in.
Did you see that the lunchbox
was labelled with Vic's name?
Yeah.
I bet that each woman received
the tongue of the man that abused her.
The killer's presenting them
to the women,
to the people they killed for.
But why are they doing that?
What do they want,
a fucking "thank you"?
Yes.
That is exactly what they want.
When we thought that Sam O'Dwyer
was a suspect,
the killer brought us his body.
And it's not just
because Sam was special.
They wanted credit for their work.
That's why the lake bodies
were defrosted after all this time.
They knew there were people there.
They wanted to make a fucking...
splashy show of it.
Our have women kept
their secret for years.
They never wanted to
draw attention to themselves but...
oh, but this killer,
they want a pat on the back.
Female killers don't kill for notoriety.
Collins.
It's a fucking man.
Ma'ams! Ma'ams!
I found something
in the bobbing bodies car.
The what? What? What?
The bobbing bodies.
They were stored in a car.
Sven's trying to locate the owner now.
I found this, under the seat.
It's the shoe Victoria lost
the night Sam assaulted her.
Yes, yes, Annie, I'm still here.
Yes, I'm still here. Hello.
He picked Vic up when
she was walking into town.
He drove her to Aleyna's and then he
went back and finished off Sam.
Yeah, but who? Who is he?
Really? Uh...
Um, the bobbing bodies car
belongs to William Carruthers.
Margaret's brother?
What the fuck?
Tammy pussy-whipped you, you pussy!
Fuck, Hunter, just shut up!
Tammy's better at footy than all of us.
Go to therapy
and deal with your problems.
We're all sick of your shit.
used two knives.
I think he used one knife
with two blades.
That's Jimmy Cook!
Up! Put it up!
Put it back up!
It's not bad, Connell.
It's a code-black disaster.
Just bring me a fucking suspect
or you're done!
Number 27 on the list.
The night Sam died,
Mike gave her a speeding ticket.
MAN: Killer dyke!
Skye.
We need to talk to you.
It is possible to hate someone
and want them dead
and not fucking murder them!
Then why did you come back to
Deadloch the night your Dad died?
No comment.
Maybe you'd have
remembered the date earlier, Dulcie,
if you were at home with me that weekend
instead of fucking some other woman
in a work shower!
It's just a job, Dulcie.
Right now, my job's more important
than us, Cath.
It's more important than you.
Cease the Feast!
...back there, Gez.
Get me back there right now.
There's dead bodies!
That's the fifth body.
- Sixth.
- Ah, sixth.
- Mmm.
- Even better.
So... how'd it go last night,
with your missus?
Did you work it out?
You want to talk about it more or...?
Yeah, let's go get a wine
and nut out my imploding marriage.
- Really? Oh.
- No, not really.
There's a serial killer targeting men.
We now have male six corpses
lined out in front of us like...
- Yeah, yeah, yeah. OK.
- ...Christmas stockings.
So let's get that sorted first,
shall we?
Alright,
that was my instinct, too.
It's just I'm not the one who
broke up with the missus last night.
Well, I don't know if we
'broke up', broke up.
Look, it doesn't matter.
Let's just confirm that these bodies
are in our column, shall we?
- Fuck me up.
- Yeah, I hear you.
Look, I know it is unpleasant...
But it is our job
and he is our colleague.
James!
Hola!
- Oh, God.
- Fucking wanker.
Oh, fuck, Collins,
you fucking stink.
Yes, that is because
I was in a dead man soup last night.
- You do the talking.
- Yep.
- Hi.
- Gidday, Big Eyes.
'Sup!
Hey, babe. Take that for me?
Right.
Any IDs on these floaters yet?
Ah, negative,
because that is not my job.
OK.
OK.
Right, they all have
these strangulation marks,
cut out tongue, injection site,
etc, etc.
Yeah, how long's
this one been dead, James?
Lack of decomp suggests no more than
48 hours. The same with the rest.
- What? That can't be...
- No. Six men whacked in 48 hours?
- That's not possible. It's bullshit.
- No, sorry, actually, that is right.
Because as I said, this body is not in
an advanced state of decomposition.
And neither are the other five,
even the one that's missing an arm.
I mean, his glenoid cavity is...
James, I think that we would know if
six men had just vanished into thin air,
so there must be another explanation.
OK, well, there's not.
So I'm sorry if this means a little more
work for you, but that's the job.
Now I have autopsies to prepare for
and a police report to file
because the forensic lock-up was
broken into when I was at TEDx Perth.
- What?
- What was broken into?
Yeah, that's right.
The mast from the Loch Nessie
was stolen from the lock-up.
James, how the hell did that happen?
Well, what matters actually, Dulcie,
is what I did afterwards.
I tested Jimmy Cook's crucifix
and confirmed that
it actually has a waterproofing agent
on it that's used on boats.
Now, here's my theory.
I think the killer stole the mast
and used it to make
Jimmy Cook's crucifix.
Sorry, I'm so sorry, what was that?
Oh, thank you so much, James.
This investigation
would be nothing without you.
That is a funny joke.
As if you'd ever thank me.
- Ma'am, that was my theory.
- Yeah, that was your theory, Abby.
We all know that that was
your theory and he just stole it.
Oh! So squishy.
- Stop!
- Ooh!
- It's like fingering a mushroom.
- Just get your fingering out of it.
- I've got gloves on.
- Hang on, hang on.
Fingering a mushroom.
Oh...
Oh, bringing back memories, is it?
Abby, is there anyone from forensics
who can assist us who isn't James?
Um...
- It's so nice to put names to faces.
- Likewise, Kate.
OK, so these bodies...
Yes, so the cellular membranes
are comprehensively ruptured.
The inter-cellular liquid is leaking.
Cool. Cool.
So, interstellar leaking,
which obviously means...
- They were frozen.
- Yeah.
Correct, and then they've been
steadily thawed over the last two days.
Sorry, ma'ams, perhaps they were
submerged somehow.
The water would have provided
a very consistent temperature
to defrost them.
Yeah, I think that's spot-on, Abby.
OK, Kate, so, theoretically our murderer
could have killed any of these men
any time in the last five years.
Absolutely. And shortly after death,
they were each frozen.
I assume IDs are
a matter of urgency, Detectives?
- Yes, thank you Kate. Thank you.
- Great.
- Constable?
- Oh, for me? No, I couldn't.
- She'd love to, Kate.
- Put the gloves on, Big Eyes, go on.
OK.
If the killer's been stockpiling
these bodies for years
then why's she suddenly decided to
offer them up now?
I don't know, but the timing
will be important.
Whatever she has planned next
will make this pile of dead men
look like A Muppet's Christmas Carol.
We can't keep this to ourselves.
People need to be aware of the threat.
Yeah.
Well, we've got Skye O'Dwyer
behind bars,
so everything's alright, isn't it?
Collins.
Isn't it?
Senior Sergeant! Senior Sergeant!
Over here!
Over here, Senior Sergeant.
- Senior Sergeant Collins!
- Ah, good morning.
Detective Collins?
Last night, six bodies were
recovered from Deadloch Lake.
They are in the process of
being formally identified.
Now, this is a very complex development
and until the police have a full picture
we are encouraging the community
to operate with an abundance of caution.
Are these deaths
the work of the Deadloch Ripper?
Uh, well, Megan, that is a new nickname
that you've come up with
and I won't be adopting,
but, yes, there is compelling evidence
to suggest that
the individuals in the lake
are connected to both the recent
and historical murders in Deadloch.
Is it true that you're holding
Skye O'Dwyer as a suspect?
She remains a person of interest, yes.
How, then have six men have been
killed if the Deadloch Widow...
The Deadloch Ripper.
...the Deadloch Widow
is still behind bars?
We are still building a picture,
and I won't be using
either of those names, OK?
Does anything else connect these men?
Aside from their gender?
Ah, we are... Like I said,
we're still building a picture.
Detective, what measures
are police taking
to stop Deadloch men from
being hunted down like human game?
We are doing everything that we can
to ensure their safety
but like I said, Megan,
in the short term,
we are encouraging everyone to exercise
an abundance of caution...
No, no, no, us men don't
need to be exercising caution.
- Ah...
- Us men are not the problem.
Ah, Mr McGangus is not
a part of this press conference.
The person killing us is the problem.
I mean, how hard is that
for you women to understand?
No, believe me, Phil, us women
completely understand the concept.
What we need is these copettes
to do their job.
Thank you for your input, Phil.
And if they don't?
I'll be escalating my response, Megan,
to match the threat to
the good men of Deadloch.
Ah, no, you won't, Phil.
You won't be doing that
because that is illegal.
We'll see. I won't be taking questions.
Mr McGangus?
I have a question for you.
- Is that another body?
- Nah, that's a sheep.
People treat this lake
like such a junkyard.
So, did you two notice
any bodies floating around
when you were setting up your fucking
waterborne sex-toy sexfest
fucking whatever the fuck it was
last night?
Yes, Detective, we saw six corpses
bobbing around like gnocchis in a pot
but we decided to ignore it
and just watch a four-hour film
about Joan's tits instead.
I know that tone. Fascist... Fash...
Do you mean facetiousness?
- Is that what you're trying to say?
- Yes.
Of course there were no bodies
when we were setting up.
Yeah. Bring it back to green, sweetpea.
Sam O'Dwyer's body was found out here
during that nudie
Feastival photo shoot wasn't it?
Yes, but he was only discovered
because Jimmy was wanking in the bushes.
- Are you writing with a straw?
- Yeah.
Bit of a coincidence, isn't it?
All these murders just started happening
when your Feastival kicked off.
Yes, it is a coincidence.
What's your point?
Detective Redcliffe?
- I made an ID!
- Abby made an ID!
- Oop!
- Oh, jinx!
Cancel your Feastival
of food and fucking nightmares.
It's over.
So it's true, then?
That mad bitch has killed six more men?
It appears to be
the work of our killer, yes.
That's a lot of men, Connell.
A lot of good men.
Great men, even. The greatest men.
Well, sir, their IDs aren't back yet,
but, yes, I am sure
they were all wonderful.
The fucking nerve of her.
Sir, in the interest of public safety
I decided to hold a press conference...
Right, well, you're gonna need to
hold a press conference.
Yes sir, I just did that...
I'd do it myself, but we've docked
at Macquarie Island
with Princess Mary looking at
some smelly fucking seabirds.
Smells like fucking hot garbage
out here.
What? I can't read that.
That font size is for cobbler elves.
- Look harder!
- Sorry, Commissioner.
Can you just tell me?
- Alright, fuck it!
- Geoffrey Haddick.
...got your suspect in custody,
don't you Connell?
Geoffrey Had-dick.
You've got her in custody, yeah?
Ah, yes. Yes we do, sir.
We... We do.
Yeah, so just keep that
killer bitch O'Dwyer
where she is and no more blokes
are gonna die, are they?
Skye couldn't have killed
Geoff Haddick.
Why not?
Because Geoff Haddick died
three years ago
and Skye was living in London
three years ago.
So? Skye said she wasn't in Deadloch
the night of Sam's murder
but she actually was.
Yes, but I can verify that
Skye was in London
because Cath and I visited on holiday.
And when Geoff, supposedly,
reversed his car off a cliff
along Settler Highway
I was with Skye at Madam Tussauds
staring at a wax version
of Victoria Beckham.
Well, that's fucked, isn't it?
Yeah.
In more ways than one.
You're listening to Pink Flag.
I'm Marie, I'm filling in for Hamish,
who's left town
on account of the serial killer.
Um, yes. And, in related news,
all further Feastival events
have been officially cancelled,
including tonight's
Pottery and Pinot event with Gez
in the Town Hall pottery studio.
So you're sure
you want to stay open, Vic?
Things are bad enough without
depriving people of neenish tarts, Ray.
- Yeah, but with Skye in custody and...
- Ray.
Yeah. Righto.
O'Dwyer!
Where's the fucking Tammy vid at?
Um, I fucking haven't taken it yet.
Ronnie!
Get in the car! You and Dad
are going to Launceston.
See youse all later.
Can we go to McDonald's on the way?
Yes, just get in the car! Christ!
Get the footage, 'cause we're gonna
fucking fuck that Tammy bitch up.
I'll send the video
to fucking Luke Caddy
and fuck up her footy career.
Fuck, Hunter, just chill out.
There's a serial killer, dude.
So?
Adele's Dad has taken her
and her six brothers to Strahan.
This is cooked.
I know, everyone's pissing off.
Luke Caddy said he's not
gonna come see me
until all the murdering's stopped.
It's bullshit.
Bet you wish you'd taken Margaret's
scholarship to Hobart now, eh?
Yeah, nah,
I'd still take the serial killer.
Dulce says the killer is targeting men.
Do 17-year-olds count as men?
No clue.
Yeah, and 17-year-olds, like,
their mums still write their names
in their clothes,
but, also, Hunter
spoofed in Amber's schoolbag last term,
so it's, like, a real line-ball, yeah?
"I left knives at your place.
"If you get attacked,
stab the thigh artery."
Fucking hell, Adele!
OK, Abby and Kate
have identified four more men.
Their families
never reported them missing.
They are Gunnar Jorgensen,
Hamish Ferguson,
Richard Lowan and Kieran Butcher.
Any news on the missing arm?
Still missing, although presumably
it belongs to Richard Lowan's body
because Richard Lowan's body
doesn't have an arm.
Right, OK, so these four men
went missing
between early 2018 and late 2019,
according to next-of-kin.
Yes, and in related news
Denise from Immigration,
whose daughter
just had her first baby, FYI,
she confirmed that Skye
didn't return to Australia
between September of 2017
and May of 2021.
So not only did Skye not know these men,
we've been advised that
they had absolutely nothing to do
with the football club.
So aside from being male,
white and dead,
we have no idea what they have in common
with the other victims.
So, to summarise,
we have six new victims
and now we need a new suspect
and a new MO.
- Can you knife me in the eye?
- Not easily, no.
- Uh, so can I release Skye, then?
- Oh, I don't...
It's just that Nadiyah and Cath have
been texting me very aggressively
since 6am.
As far as we know,
Sam O'Dwyer was still the first victim.
He meant something to the killer.
Skye came back that night for a reason.
I think whatever happened that night
holds the key to who our killer is.
So, what am I doing with Skye?
Oh, just hold her
for a little bit longer.
OK, well, any help
with the messaging surrounding that
would be appreciated.
Just don't talk to the press, Sven, OK?
No, I meant with Cath.
Well, I... I can't help you with that.
Oh, 'cause you broke up?
I mean, well...
Yeah, I don't know if we broke up,
specifically, or...
- No?
- OK, no, no, no, let's just move on.
We move on.
OK, so who else
are we looking at then, hey?
Who else?
Madam Chutney? Old fucking... Vic?
- Vic?
- No, we've been through this.
Margaret was in Riomaggiore,
Vic has a dodgy hip.
Sven, what is this poster?
Is that a ringworm?
Oh, sorry, it's the pube
from Sam O'Dwyer's mouth.
I printed it A0 size at Officeworks
'cause I thought A0
meant the smallest size.
But it doesn't.
It actually means the biggest size.
Which is, like, crazy, 'cause it's zero.
Forget about pube lady.
What about your strange wife?
You mean my es-tranged wife?
- Whatever. You get the gist.
- Yeah, Cath's not a night murderer.
She falls asleep at 9pm
with her hand on my boob.
You know, or, she did do that
until recently.
It's not a thing. Let's...
It doesn't matter.
Cath.
Ooh, do you want me to...
- Do you want us to turn the lights...?
- No.
- Do you wanna get under the desk?
- No, I don't want you to do that, no.
- I can do it.
- OK.
- I'm an adult. I can do it.
- Thank God.
We'll be here if you want to debrief
or anything, Dulce, won't we?
Nup.
Hey, Sven, recheck the alibis
for all the women the night Sam died.
One of them's sitting on a secret.
I'm gonna squeeze it out of her
like an ingrown hair.
Oh, God.
- Cath.
- Hi.
Oh, love, thanks for
bringing that in for me.
No, it's for Skye.
I've seen Oz.
I know how bad prison food is.
That's for you. Your stuff.
Right, OK. Yep, um...
Yeah, some time might be good.
We need to draw up
a custody agreement for the dogs.
Hi, Cath!
No? OK.
Is everything OK, ma'am?
Yeah, yep. Everything is just perfect.
It's all perfect.
- OK.
- So, what's that?
Oh, we've identified the last body.
It's Daniel Tate.
- Danny Tate?
- Yep.
- Sexual assault Danny Tate?
- Yes, ma'am.
Sven!
Hey, Tombo, you know
we can see you out here, right?
What are you doing?
There's a killer on the loose, dude.
Tammy, um, I need to tell you something.
Fuck, I knew it.
- You're in love with me, aren't you?
- Oh, shit.
Explains why he started hanging out
with the footy boys.
Heartbreak.
- Exactly.
- No, I filmed you pulling a bong.
Yeah, I know. It was fucking funny.
No...
Hunter told me to film you
so he could sent it to Luke Caddy
so Luke Caddy wouldn't recruit you.
I'm sorry.
You tried to stitch me up
to get in with Hunter?
Oh, that's shameful.
I'm not gonna give him the video,
and it probably
wouldn't have worked anyway.
Nah, dude. Maybe if I was you,
it wouldn't have worked.
If I was a white dude like you
I could stab a swan and eat it
and I would suffer zero consequences.
- Maybe gastro.
- Maybe gastro, yeah, true.
But I'm a black woman.
I don't get the hundreds of chances
to make mistakes that you get.
Did you ever think about that?
No, I didn't.
Yeah, no shit. You were just
thinking about yourself.
You were gonna use me to
get what you want, like I don't matter.
Fuck.
I'm sorry. I wanna be your mate.
I don't need you! I have mates.
- One mate.
- One mate. Miranda.
And unlike you,
I've never had to explain to her
that just because she's a white dude
that doesn't mean that
she's important than me.
- I'm not a white dude, though.
- I'm making a point, M. Fuck!
Unlike you, Miranda's a good dude.
Let's go.
This is our place. Just...
Yeah, this is our place. You go.
I can't help you with this one, dude.
Danny Tate, arrested for rape.
Richard Lowans,
stalking, domestic abuse.
Kieran Butcher, DV.
Hamish Ferguson, sexual assault.
Gunnar Jorgensen, DV and sexual assault.
Geoffrey Haddick,
attempted to murder his wife.
Gavin Latham, domestic abuse.
Trent Latham, domestic abuse.
Jimmy Cook, stalking,
indecent public masturbation.
Rod Dixon,
evidence of sexual harassment...
- Yeah, yeah. OK, I get it. Collins!
- ...and emotional abuse.
11 men are dead.
And we are looking for a pattern
in our victims, aren't we?
Yes, so, what is it?
They're white, they're men,
they all look like varieties of potato.
Hold the fucking phone.
Our killer isn't just targeting
any white man out there.
She is targeting...
- Cunts.
- ...abusers.
Your term works too.
Fucking hell, Collins.
You fucking cracked it!
Oh.
- Sorry, try it again.
- No, no.
- Let me try it once more.
- I can't even look you in the eye. No, you fucked it.
But hang on, Collins.
What about Sam O'Dwyer, hey?
He kicked off the cunt cull, didn't he?
But dicking around on his missus
hardly ranks up with
what these fucking turds got up to.
OK. Ah...
His... His...
philandering had consequences,
at least for Vic and Skye?
Mmm... That's not enough.
Ma'ams, this victim profile
kind of reminds me
of the Angel Makers of Nagyrev.
Have you heard that podcast about them?
I'll link it to you. It's on eCast.
- Who?
- I don't have that.
Basically, in Hungary in the 1920s,
one woman gave arsenic
to another woman
so she could poison her abusive husband.
And then it all just
kind of grew from there.
Grew from there?
What do you mean, "grew from there"?
Well, this woman realised that
actually heaps of women in the town
were being abused by crappy men,
and so she decided to
solve their problems by killing them.
But then other women
got wind of the situation
and they decided to kill their...
Their dog-shit men too.
Yeah.
They managed to keep it a secret
for about 15 years
before they got caught,
which checks out,
because women kill to solve a problem
not to get attention.
Isn't that right, ma'am?
Ah, yes, yes.
Female killers don't want notoriety.
They work very hard
to camouflage their actions.
So, what about the lady who started
the killing in this Nodule place?
How'd she know what
all these dog-shit men were doing?
Was she the town flap-waxer?
No, ma'am, she was the town midwife.
She was the closest thing Nagyrev
had to a doctor.
All the women were her patients.
Doctor Mayor.
Big Eyes, what about the women
connected to our men?
The victims of the victims?
Were any of them Aleyna's patients?
Probably all of them, ma'am.
The next closest doctor
is in Carnage Bay
and he's not allowed to see
female patients without supervision.
Mm, crook.
Sven, check Doctor Mayor's alibis.
Ooh, I already did that.
On the night that Sam died,
Aleyna said that she was working
in Glenvalleyglen.
What's that, a whisky joint?
She working part-time
at a whisky joint?
- No, it's a hospital.
- Oh.
Doctor Mayor was working
at the hospital. Fuck-a-duck-a-do.
Well, no, actually,
I called the hospital,
and, no, Aleyna wasn't working.
But, actually, she was working.
- What?
- But even though she wasn't working.
Yeah, g'day, Ray Pies. It's me, Eddie.
Yeah, just on the down-low,
the killer's targeting shit men
and she's really ramping up,
and there's every chance
that she'll relax her brief.
And, well...
You cried when your dickie
was in me last night and, uh...
while that doesn't compare
to some of the shit
these other blokes have been up to,
it might put a target on your back
because that shit was off.
It was very off. Said it at the time.
Even though I knew
they were happy tears,
it was still, you know...
kind of ruined the mood.
So... Watch yourself and, um...
I'd better get on the blower to Phil now
and give him the same warning.
Not about the dickie stuff,
just, you know...
Ah, yeah. Anyway, toorah.
- I'm fucking Ray.
- Oh, are you, ma'am?
OK.
Yeah, I reckon I might like him, hey?
Yeah, that's really nice.
So how far to Glenvalleyglenross
General Hospital, then?
- Um, about 10 minutes, ma'am.
- Oh, OK.
Oh, look, a cow.
Cath think I'm at daycare?
I don't know, she's not talking to me.
Least your family don't think
you're a serial killer.
Imagine how bad that would be, mate.
Skye, a few days ago forensics
discovered a foreign hair sample
on your father's body.
Does she do this for you every day?
It was a pubic hair.
I heard you and Cath fight last night.
Really giving your life
the nuclear treatment, aren't you, mate?
The hair was in his mouth, Skye.
There was also a head wound
and high levels of alcohol
in his system.
We think that he was
sexually intimate with someone
the night he was murdered.
Do you know who that person might be?
Skye...
- If it was you...
- Oh, fuck up, Dulce!
Well, then can you just tell me
what is going on?
Because I have played bloody Clue
against you before, Skye,
and I can tell when
you're keeping a secret.
Can't talk right now,
Detective Collins.
Eating a very happy egg.
Mmm.
It's my birthday today.
- Oh, happy birthday.
- Thanks.
OK, so 10th of June 2017.
Like I told your colleague,
Mayor Rahme definitely wasn't
rostered on to work that night,
but she did admit and personally treat
a female patient.
A patient came in for infertility.
Nope, sorry, had a champagne with lunch.
Injuries. It says injuries.
- What sort of injuries?
- I'll just check now.
Ma'am, Sam O'Dwyer sustained
a head injury the night he was murdered.
What if it was from a fight?
With pube lady?
You reckon Aleyna's patient
could be pube lady?
Maybe.
OK, so the patient came in with
injuries consistent with DV.
Uh, she was admitted
under the name "Anna Spanner".
What sort of
animated carpenter name is that?
- Sounds like a fake name, doesn't it?
- Are there any photos?
There are.
Thanks for
putting a rush on this, Kate.
No problem.
OK, so Skye O'Dwyer's DNA
is not a match for the pubic hair.
Thank you, Kate. Thank you.
Of the two possible outcomes
of that test,
that one is by far my favourite.
Agreed. Oh, funny.
Funny?
Skye's DNA matches
one of the samples on the system.
One of the victims?
No, looking at the dates...
this sample was taken on
the mass DNA testing day of all the men.
Has no name on it.
Ah, right. Well, Skye's son
was accidentally tested that day,
so it's probably just him.
No, it's not mitochondrial DNA.
Sorry, Skye's not the mother?
So, hang on, what's the connection?
Skye and the sample
share the same father.
So Sam fathered another child?
Yeah, looks like it.
Can you tell who it is?
No, samples are just numbers.
Kate, do me a favour.
The hair that was found
in Sam O'Dwyer's mouth,
can you run it against that sample?
- Yeah, good idea.
- Thank you.
Detective, I'm sorry
I'm not at the hospital...
Collins.
I know why Sam O'Dwyer was the first.
He was a proper cunt after all.
Photos of your injuries.
Cracked pelvis,
fractured wrist,
broken elbow.
This is a terrible, bloody assault.
Did Sam do this to you?
Had he been violent with you before?
Sorry, is this really relevant
to your investigation?
Someone knew what Sam did to Victoria,
and they murdered him because of it.
Yeah, and they've continued to
knock off men since then.
So, yeah, Cath, it is kind of relevant.
Vic, after Aleyna
admitted you to the hospital
did she go back to the shack
and kill Sam?
No.
I did it.
I killed Sam.
- Vic, I advise...
- No, Cath, I've had enough.
No-one else is getting caught up
in this. It's gone far enough.
Vic, what happened that night?
Sam and I got into a row.
Um...
And he started getting rough with me,
and I fought back, and I killed him.
Mm-hm.
How?
I hit him on the back of the head,
with a poker from the fireplace.
And then what happened?
And then he stumbled back
onto the balcony...
and fell into the lake.
And you didn't do anything else to him?
No.
That's how I killed him.
What was Sam wearing that night?
He was in his jocks.
And what was
the disagreement about, Vic?
I can't remember now.
- Hmm?
- Didn't take much to get him going.
Was there anyone else in the shack
with you and Sam that night?
- No.
- Anyone else that might have seen...
- Skye wasn't there, Dulcie.
- I'm not asking about Skye, Vic.
It was just me.
I killed him, with a poker and a lake.
Did you plan on killing him?
No, of course not.
Even in my darkest moments,
I never wanted Sam dead.
I wanted him to be a better man.
I wanted him to say out loud
that he was sorry for what he did
to me and Skye and our family.
I wanted him to...
to say sorry and mean it.
Not just for us, but for Sam, too,
because...
...what a waste of a life he was.
So, no, I didn't want him dead.
And trust me...
...death doesn't bring the peace
you expect, Detective.
So Sam fell in the water.
You left the shack.
What happened next?
I opened the door
and Vic was on my doorstep.
Mm-hm.
- How did she get there?
- I don't know.
Her legs were all scratched up
and she was only wearing one shoe.
I assume she walked.
To your surgery? That's 6 Ks.
Yeah, I didn't ask her to draw me a map,
I just helped.
What happened after
you drove her to the hospital?
I went home.
Must be hard seeing a patient
getting beaten up like that.
Yeah.
Unfortunately, it's not rare.
You know, this is domestic violence.
It's not that Amazonian fish
that swims up your penis.
Is there anyone who can
confirm your version
of the events of that night?
Yes, I was there that night, darling.
Aleyna and I were
brainstorming the Feastival.
But once the three of us
got Victoria inside, I left.
You left?
Yes, well, you know,
Vic and I were never close.
Sam was Rod's friend.
It was better that I didn't get involved
in Sam and Vic's private affairs.
Better for who?
For you?
Sorry, Margaret.
Did you say "the three of us"?
Yep.
I was cleaning the surgery
and Vic rocked up.
Sam had beaten her black and blue,
the cunt.
So, then what happened?
You went out and killed him as payback?
Fuck, no. I got Vic inside
and helped Aleyna patch her up.
Got 'em both into Aleyna's car.
When they left I just went
and finished the floors and...
Sharelle, you what?
I went home. To bed.
Can anyone colloborate that?
Co... Am I saying that right?
No, no, you're not.
You're not saying that right.
Yeah, Gavin. Gavin can corroborate that.
I was with him at the time.
Want his number? I can give it to you.
I don't think it's gonna answer, but.
Did you see anyone else that night?
Mum had rang me to tell me
she was leaving Dad.
I told her to wait
for me to fly down, but...
that was a decision
40 years in the making.
There was no stopping her.
Mum went to the Doorbell,
searching for Dad.
Jimmy told her he was at the shack
with one of his girls.
Mum was livid.
She told Jimmy she was gonna kill him.
So that's why Jimmy
was blackmailing you.
You paid him to protect your mum.
Well, I wasn't rewarding him
for his service to public wanking.
So, then,
what happened that night?
Soon as the plane landed,
I had, like, 50 missed calls
from Aleyna and Sharelle.
Once I knew Mum was safe,
I fanged it to the shack
to confront that piece of shit.
And that's when Mike
gave you the speeding ticket?
Yep.
But when I got there, Dad...
was gone.
First we thought
he'd gotten the shits up,
but when he didn't come back
after a few days,
Mum began to think
she'd killed him, accidentally.
So that's why she waited to
file his missing person's report.
Yeah, well, everyone assumed
he'd gone, so...
we didn't correct the record.
- Mm-hm.
- Do you think she killed him?
I don't know.
But even if she did, you saw the photos.
The bruises. The busted hip.
Aleyna, Margaret, Sharelle and I,
we knew she didn't deserve to be
punished for defending herself
so we made a pact to
keep our traps shut.
What, you made a pact?
Why didn't you tell me?
'Cause it was a secret.
You said there was
a girl at the shack.
- Any idea who that was?
- Nuh.
I've told you enough.
Go ahead, Kate.
You were right, Detective.
The pubic hair belongs to
the mother of Sam's other child.
Who's the other child?
Ah, we don't know.
It was an unmarked sample
from the DNA testing day.
Thanks, Kate.
It must have been
one of the teenagers, ma'ams.
We didn't have permission
to take their samples,
so none of them were labelled.
Well, what boys were there?
They all look like big thumbs to me.
Um, there was
Callum, Hunter, Dolph, Tom.
Callum's little brother, Jasper.
Although, Sam would have been really
dead by the time Jasper was...
Holy shit gods.
He's the dead fucking spit.
Loch Nessie.
Vanessa, do you recognise this boat?
Mm-hm, that's Sam's boat.
- Mm-hm. What's its name?
- The Loch Nessie.
The Nessie.
That's the nickname that
Phil called you yesterday
when he was talking to the press.
Did Sam O'Dwyer name his boat after you?
I don't know, maybe.
It was 20 years ago. I can't remember.
- 20 years ago?
- Mm-hm.
20, 24 years.
Something like that.
Vanessa, you were 15 then.
Was that when you started seeing Sam?
That's statutory rape.
Like, you wouldn't understand this,
because you're a lesbian...
...and you're not anything.
Sam was a red-blooded man
in an unhappy marriage.
He said we had a connection
that wasn't about our ages.
He said I was the only person
who really got him.
Vanessa, he groomed you.
My hair?
Mate, he was in his 40s.
You were Year 10.
You should have been in home ec class,
fucking up an omelette.
I was in Year 9, actually,
and everyone said
I was really mature for my age.
- Who's everyone?
- Sam. Rod Dixon.
Look, I already told you this.
Men have always been obsessed with me.
This is why I can't have female friends.
Women can't hack
the attention I get from men.
You're both just jealous of me.
Vanessa, we know that Dolph
is Sam O'Dwyer's son.
Were you still seeing Sam
when he disappeared?
Not often.
Every time I tried to end it completely,
Sam would threaten to tell Trent,
and I was scared about
Trent would react.
He had a bit of a temper.
Were you with Sam
the night he disappeared?
Vanessa, Sam O'Dwyer
sexually assaulted you as a minor.
He blackmailed you into a relationship.
By the sounds of it,
Rod Dixon knew about all that
and did nothing to help you.
Trent abused you, Gavin and Jimmy
sexually harassed you...
Oh, my God, you're blowing this all
way out of proportion.
It was fine.
It's just... men being men, you know?
Yeah. We do know.
It's just far from fucking fine, mate.
Vanessa, your pubic hair
was found in Sam O'Dwyer's mouth
the night he disappeared,
the night that we believe
he was murdered.
- So?
- So it places you at the crime scene.
You think I killed Sam?
No...
I was there that night, sure,
but I went out a window
as soon as Vic showed up.
Ask Sharelle. She picked me up.
I swear, I didn't kill him!
I'm in the business
of keeping people alive,
no matter who they are.
I didn't kill him.
No, I had absolutely
no reason to, darling.
I didn't kill him.
We've been through this.
I didn't kill him.
He was fucking monster.
But I didn't kill him.
Yes. That's how I killed him.
- Vic didn't kill him.
- Hard agree.
If Sam O'Dwyer's head wound
was the cause of death,
then, sure, charge Vic.
Charge them all as accessories,
but that's not what fucking happened.
None of them knew anything
about the strangling,
the tongues,
what Sam was wearing.
Someone else knew
what Sam was doing to Vic.
The police divers
have found the arm in the lake.
Great, but we don't have time to
reunite long-lost body parts right now.
- We can head out there, ma'ams.
- Yes, we can go.
- Charge the women, or release them.
- Cath...
That holding cell has
a maximum capacity of three people.
They'll be up
under each other's armpits.
Either charge them, release them,
or I'll be applying for a court order,
Detective.
But I confessed. I don't understand.
You've been through a lot tonight, Vic.
You need to come with me.
You told them about
me and your Dad, didn't you?
No. Unlike you, I don't out people.
Ladies, we need to debrief
about this. Where can we go?
Well, Gez gave me the keys
to the pottery studio.
- Skye...
- Na, I can't.
Skye!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
- What do we want?
- Reclaim the night!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
What are those dick nuggets doing?
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
- I said, what do we want?
- Reclaim the night!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
- What do we want?
- Reclaim the night!
- When do we want it?
- Tonight!
What's going on, Phil?
We heard you she-cops
were letting O'Dwyer go.
So if you're not gonna protect us,
then we're gonna take matters
into our own hands.
Oh, yeah?
And how exactly do you plan on
defending yourself, Phil, eh?
We'll be using any means necessary,
sweetheart.
And we're gonna make sure
that man-killer O'Dwyer
doesn't try anything else, OK?
No, no, Phil, you are not.
I order everyone to drop their...
their gardening trowels...
- and go home.
- No.
No, no, no, we're gonna
reclaim the night.
We're not gonna sit in silence.
We're not gonna live with fear.
Whoa, whoa, whoa
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa-whoa...
- ♪ Whoa, whoa, whoa-whoa ♪
- ♪ Whoa, whoa-whoa ♪
♪ You're the voice
Try and understand it ♪
♪ Make a noise and make it clear ♪
♪ Whoa, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh ♪
♪ Whoa-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh...
Hey! Hey get off the fucking road!
- Get off the road!
- Move! Move, move, move, move!
Get up!
- What the fuck?!
- That was the Pro-Bro ute.
- Did you see their face?
- No. Let's go. Come on.
What the fuck?!
Get onto
the Carnage Bay cops.
Yeah, give me
that fucking radio.
Attention, all units.
Every fucker in Tasmania.
We are in pursuit of a green ute.
A real aggressive, lolly-frog green ute
heading out of town.
We require back up.
I repeat, we need back up.
Drive faster, Collins, drive!
There's pademelons everywhere
and I am trying not to hit them!
Get up the dirt road!
Yes, I am.
That is exactly what I'm doing!
Where'd she fucking go?
Can you see?
I can't see anything
because you are talking too loud!
Oh, there's no fucking sense!
There it is. There it is, Collins.
This is Redcliffe. We've located
the vehicle on Chapel's Lane.
We request urgent back up.
Agh...
- Bum!
- Fuck me up!
Ugh.
So it was submerged under
a tree root, did you say?
- Yeah, it was.
- Wow, that's crazy, you know?
What's the visibility like down there?
I used to dive, that's all.
Um, I'm actually thinking of
getting back into it.
- Mm.
- So, maybe, uh, sometime...
- Sven?
- ...if you would like to do...
- Sven?
- Sorry. Yep?
Sven!
Why is there a tow-truck here?
- Oh, ah, Vince... That's Vince.
- Ah-huh?
- I'm in love with him.
- OK.
He found, like, a car in there.
A full car.
Four-wheel drive, 7-seater,
perfect condition, apparently.
It is amazing what people
will just, like, throw into this lake.
What do you think his vibe is? Like...
- I think he's dead, Sven.
- Not him... No.
Alright, fellas,
keep it coming.
That's the way. Two-by-two.
- Aleyna!
- Hurry up!
What's going on?
Phil called an emergency
men's-only town hall meeting,
where they voted him in
as caretaker mayor
because they're a bunch of dogs!
- Why is there a cop over there?
- Where is the lie there, Gez?
Oi, oi, oi, oi, guys, guys.
Why is there a fucking bus?
Someone at the meeting suggested
bussing all of the men out of town.
They're taking every remaining
Deadloch man over the age of 17
to some secure, undisclosed location
until the Deadloch Widow-slash-Ripper
is apprehended or gunned down.
Are you getting on the bus, Tom?
I kinda don't wanna die, Dulcie.
Yeah, yeah. And Vic and I think
that's a really good instinct, Dulce.
Oh, I can stay, sweetpea.
No, I won't cope if
something happens to you, Gez.
For one thing, I don't know
the passwords to anything,
but more than that,
you're my full heart.
Just go. Go!
Alright, fellas,
we're moving out!
Good luck, Ray Pies.
Hey, do you reckon you could
stop calling me Ray Pies?
Why?
Just say it fast
and think about what you're saying.
Ray Pies. Ray Pies.
Rape Eyes, Rape Eyes, Ra...
- Oh!
- Yeah.
- Gotcha.
- Thanks.
Look, can I come just come with him?
He's all I've got.
You can't, Vanessa.
Please, Phil, it's me.
Men only.
- Phil.
- On ya, Phil.
No, you're welcome mate.
You're welcome.
We look after our own around here.
Don't worry, Senior Sergeant.
We've picked up your slack.
You can thank us later.
Bye, Mikey. Love you.
Who's "we" Phil?
Hey? Who else has picked up my slack?
Yeah, well, I put a call in
to a mate, didn't I?
'Cause you're useless as tits on a bull.
Come on.
Detective!
Ah, right.
OK.
Really?
OK, ah, Detective, we need to
get to the station, so, um...
Bye, Ray. Yep.
Detective!
What the fuck's going on?
Who are these fucking dickturds?
- Ah, Connell.
- Commissioner Hastings.
You've set all the killers free.
Skye O'Dwyer wasn't in the country.
I don't just mean O'Dwyer,
I mean the whole bloody lot of them.
I came in, looked at your
little fucking murder board
and figured it out
in 10 minutes flat, ladies.
It's been staring you in the face
this whole time.
This town is full of man-hating lesbians...
...with a taste for man murder.
Sir, we don't believe that
the women are involved, sir.
These Carnage Bay boys told me
that they were all in here
and that you even got a confession
out of one of them.
And what do you girls do?
You let them go and one of them
tries to run the men over
like they're skittles
in a fucking bowling alley.
- Sir, if you could please just listen...
- Nuh!
Effective immediately, I'm taking over.
You and your little pocket mate here
are no longer calling the shots.
- What'd you call me? You can't do that!
- The women don't add up, sir!
You know what doesn't add up, Collins?
Your wife is the local vet.
She has access to Pentobarbital.
Had she been investigated?
No! She's representing the women!
And then we've got
this lady Mayor Rahme, doctor, swimmer.
Why isn't she behind bars?
'Cause they've all got
fucking alibis, mate!
So if one can't do it,
another one will step in.
- No...
- They're sharing the load?
We are not talking about a group of
women in a school carpool here, sir.
Then who do you think is doing it, then?
- Well, that's a good question...
- At present we don't have a...
- We...
- It's...
It is more that we...
we know who didn't do it, sir.
Exactly. We don't know...
How fucking compelling.
Commissioner, please,
we just need more time.
- We are very close...
- 11 men are dead.
I'm not fingering my hole
while those women make plans
to massacre more men
by the light of the full fucking moon.
We have to act now.
I'm bringing those psycho bitches in.
- What?
- Hey?
We don't have enough evidence
to arrest them, sir.
I know you don't.
That's why you're not running the case.
I'm getting warrants
and raiding those women's houses.
It's not them.
Well, let's find out which one of us
is right, Detective,
once and for all, shall we?
Boys!
Guns, enforcers, ballistic vests on.
Fucko man fuckedness!
I have to warn them.
Hey, hey, don't be a dickhead, dickhead.
I cannot stay here.
Hastings will make charges stick.
He just wants results,
even if it's a complete crock.
Collins, Collins,
if you get involved,
then Hastings will take your badge, OK?
You help the women
by proving it's not them.
Alright, let's move out!
Hi, ma'ams.
Sorry, you're probably really busy,
but they just pulled a car
out of the lake.
I think that the killer submerged
the bodies inside the car two days ago.
And then I think they dived down
and released the bodies
just when it suited their purpose.
No, actually, no.
I know that they did that,
because all the corpses had
seatbelt markings their chests.
Anyway, we're still
waiting to search the vehicle
but we can't
because my ex-fiancé is a dick.
So... Sorry for swearing on the phone,
ma'am, sorry. I'm just tired.
And also my ex-fiancé is a dick.
Are you guys finished?
James, I really need to find out
who the owner is.
This could be the missing link
in the whole investigation.
Ooh, the missing link.
Look at you, acting like
a police officer, Sven.
What?
James, I really think you should
flag down that bus and get on it.
No, the killer
is targeting cunts, James.
They're targeting cunts.
And you are a cunt.
You're the biggest cunt I've ever met.
And you should get on the bus!
OK, OK, OK, we need to talk seriously
about getting you on
some mood stabilisers, yeah?
It's exactly what Dad had to do with Mum
when she was approaching 30.
- She's 24!
- I'm 24.
- She's 24.
- Do you not know how old I am?
- See you at home, baby.
- Oh, my...
I'm not your baby.
- She's so much better than you!
We're literally
not even together.
I hate you!
Forensics are clear.
- Let's just... Let's do this.
- OK.
Mm-hm.
See, I told you
this is what you all needed.
Great work, ladies.
This is very therapeutic.
We're telling our brains
that we're safe.
Cath, I'm having a panic attack.
Well, that's impossible, Aleyna.
Lying like this, and the singing,
and doing the eye thing.,
we are calming
our parasympathetic nervous system.
Aleyna, you are not doing yourself
any favours.
- Oh, my God!
- What?
Margaret's been arrested.
What for?
Police!
Agh! No!
Wh...?
Hello, ladies.
What are you all up to?
Hi, Annie, how are you?
Wow! Six months sober. Oh, my God.
Well done, you.
No, it's not oversharing,
No, I love it. Great.
Anyway, my name's Sven,
I'm from Deadloch Police.
I'm just calling about
a vehicle identification number.
Is that something
you might be able to help me with?
Yeah, sure, happy to hold, Annie.
Thanks.
Cheers.
Congrats again.
Yeah, I know. I couldn't do it,
that's for sure.
Alright, thanks a lot.
It's amazing what you find
when you actually look.
Isn't it, girls?
Tongues.
In all your mates' freezers.
No. No. No, this isn't right.
It is fucking right.
Clearly you girls didn't have the balls
to finish what you started so...
you're welcome.
We got em, boys!
Top bloody effort.
We did it!
Oh, fuck!
This is bad, Collins.
This is really fucking bad.
It is the women.
We were fucking wrong. We were wrong.
No.
No, it's not the women.
Well, what about all the tongues
in the fucking freezers, then?
What, were they planted?
Are they being framed?
Like, what's... what's the killer doing?
They did it for the same reason
they released the bodies at the lake.
And the same reason they showed us Sam.
Collins, what is going on in
that fuzzy-headed brain of yours?
Come on, let me in. Let me in.
Did you see that the lunchbox
was labelled with Vic's name?
Yeah.
I bet that each woman received
the tongue of the man that abused her.
The killer's presenting them
to the women,
to the people they killed for.
But why are they doing that?
What do they want,
a fucking "thank you"?
Yes.
That is exactly what they want.
When we thought that Sam O'Dwyer
was a suspect,
the killer brought us his body.
And it's not just
because Sam was special.
They wanted credit for their work.
That's why the lake bodies
were defrosted after all this time.
They knew there were people there.
They wanted to make a fucking...
splashy show of it.
Our have women kept
their secret for years.
They never wanted to
draw attention to themselves but...
oh, but this killer,
they want a pat on the back.
Female killers don't kill for notoriety.
Collins.
It's a fucking man.
Ma'ams! Ma'ams!
I found something
in the bobbing bodies car.
The what? What? What?
The bobbing bodies.
They were stored in a car.
Sven's trying to locate the owner now.
I found this, under the seat.
It's the shoe Victoria lost
the night Sam assaulted her.
Yes, yes, Annie, I'm still here.
Yes, I'm still here. Hello.
He picked Vic up when
she was walking into town.
He drove her to Aleyna's and then he
went back and finished off Sam.
Yeah, but who? Who is he?
Really? Uh...
Um, the bobbing bodies car
belongs to William Carruthers.
Margaret's brother?
What the fuck?
Tammy pussy-whipped you, you pussy!
Fuck, Hunter, just shut up!
Tammy's better at footy than all of us.
Go to therapy
and deal with your problems.
We're all sick of your shit.