Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (2012–…): Season 2, Episode 6 - Marked for Murder - full transcript

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(Insects chirruping)

# PLODDING JAZZ MUSIC

(Water trickling)

# Theme music

MAN: Go Abbotsford!
(Men shouting exuberantly)

MAN: What a win!

Abbotsford!
Let's hear it for the lads!

(Men cheer)

Hey, give us an autograph?

Get that into you, Vince.

What's happened to your captain?
Still off the booze?



Alright, Scotty. Get down.

(Scotty barks)

Coach.
How are ya, mate?

Coach. Where's our captain?

I left him to lock up the sheds.

Still mucking around
with his health remedies

and his bloody
cold-water treatments?

As long as it helps him
with his game.

You're the vice-captain.
You make sure they have a good time.

(Glass dinging, Scotty barking)

And the winner of the esteemed...

Call the bloody number, Bert.

Number 27.

(Men groan)



Hang on. That's me.

Go at it, Frank!
(All cheer)

Told you I could get it.

On ya, Coach.
Well done, Coach.

Last drinks, lads, and no hoarding!

Righto, you lot. This isn't funny.

Which one of you jokers
has pinched my lucky hat?

It's not just A hat, Miss Fisher.

It's Coach Maclean's lucky hat
he wears to every game.

Miss Fisher, is it? Joe Maclean.

Do you have any idea
who might have taken your hat?

Someone who plugs
for the opposition.

West Melbourne.

Come inside. We'll have a chat.

I'll pull them
out of fitness training.

They look fit enough to me.

Get the ball. Bloody Harry
forgot to lock it again.

You don't know how many times
I've told him.

Superstitious lot I'm afraid,
footy players.

(Footsteps approaching)

Harry!

Don't touch him.

But it's Harry The Hangman,
the team captain!

PAT: Those West Melbourne bastards
did this.

I say we go
and burn down their rooms!

West Melbourne finally took
The Hangman back into the fold.

It's an evil bloody joke,
that's what it is.

He was hanged with a Wests scarf!
There'll be no violence.

Anyone taking things into their own
hands will be arrested and charged.

That means you, Pat O'Farrell.

Yeah? You probably barrack for
West Melbourne, do you Inspector!

As a matter of fact, Abbotsford
is my team as well, Mr Johnson.

And mine too.

So if you'd all like to go home,

we can get on with our
investigation. Thank you gentlemen.

Where is he?
Celia, don't go in there.

What happened?
Vince, tell me what happened.

Mrs Harper. Inspector Robinson.

I think it's best if you go home

and we'll come by
and speak with you privately.

Lads, take her home, would ya?

Harry wouldn't want her left alone.

PAT: Sort it out, copper, or we will.

A football ground, Miss Fisher?

The last place
I'd expect to find you.

I watched my first match
from my father's shoulders, Jack.

Collingwood supporter?
Lapsed.

Since Collingwood versus Carlton,
1910.

1910.

But your team won.

Admittedly,
some of the worst fighting

ever seen on a football field.

Is that what put you off?

You know me better than that, Jack.

Why exactly are you here,
Miss Fisher?

MACLEAN: She's here
to help recover my hat.

Your lucky hat?
Stolen last night.

That's a West Melbourne scarf.

They might as well have
put up a sign.

I can understand the opposition
stealing a lucky charm, but murder?

That mob would do anything
to see us go down.

Why are his wrists taped?
Injury.

Unusual to have both taped, though,

and there's bruising
to the back of the head.

He copped a blow at training
yesterday, sir. From Barlow.

What about the soles of his feet?

What about them?

Well, you should take a closer look.
It's strange.

You have your brief to get on with,
Miss Fisher, and I have mine.

Amazing what football does to a man.

Blisters.

Some kind of burns.

MAN: Hey, Pat,
here comes one of them.

Wests are only sour because we won
the first clash of the season.

This is revenge, lads.

Heard the news.

Rubbing your hands, are ya?

Come on, just because
I'm a Wests man.

You're a traitor to the suburb
you were born in, Cec.

Yeah, but I'm a good son to my mum.

She was born at West Melbourne,
so...

PHRYNE: Good morning!

Didn't realise you were
called in on this case, Miss.

I called her in.
To find coach Maclean's lucky hat.

One of your mob's stolen it.
Yeah?

We wouldn't stoop that low.

Besides, we were in our clubhouse
all night last night.

Oh, yeah!

You two do realise
I won't be taking sides.

Why would ya?
You were born in Collingwood.

Gibbs.

MACLEAN: Neville.

Hello, Joe.
Here to rub it in, are you?

No, I'm here to offer my condolences.
It's a damn tragedy.

Mr Gibbs. Saved us a trip.

Perhaps you'd like to speak
with us inside?

Certainly.

What a cheek.

Nev Gibbs?
He's no stranger to tragedy, Bert.

In what way?
He's a widower.

Lost his wife when he started
coaching Wests, right?

Then a couple of years ago,
his daughter dies.

He doesn't miss a beat.

We almost won the flag that year.

(Laughs) Not even close.

You said the hat
was taken from the clubrooms.

Well, how could a West Melbourne fan
infiltrate without being noticed?

Yeah, good question, Miss.

There was that kid hanging around,
asking for autographs.

I thought she looked suspicious.

Dressed like a boy.

Dressed like a boy?

Cheeky. About 16, 17.

I think it's our orange girl.

Where could we find this tomboy, Cec?
If I get my hands on her...

If Bert lays a finger on her,
I'll drop the case.

West Melbourne. Fruit market.

No, anyone could have used that,
not just one of us.

There are hundreds of them
out there.

Still, Harry Harper
doesn't have many friends

at West Melbourne, does he?

He deserted...

..moved on to another club.

Now, no-one likes that.

But they wouldn't kill him for it.

Harper was a gifted player, but
not everyone enjoyed his tactics.

Or his reputation.

He had an eye for the ladies,
alright.

But why would someone from the West

use their own club scarf
to kill him?

It would just bring grief
and suspicion on the whole club.

Cover of the crowd.

I'm still going to want to
talk to your blokes, I'm afraid.

Oh, well,
they're not going anywhere.

We've got a game to play.

But you might want to talk
to Harper's teammates as well.

Plenty of people closer to home,
unlike your man here,

happy to have a go at Harper.

(Hugh exhales)
Now I'll say g'day, gentlemen.

I wasn't having a go, sir.

We need to set aside
our allegiances, Collins.

This is a murder enquiry,
not a footy match.

(Exhales heavily)

Sir, your wife.
Your previous wife, sir.

Jack, we just heard.
What a terrible thing.

Rosie. I thought you'd returned
to the West Melbourne fold.

Yes, Father would have loved that,

but unfortunately for him,
Sidney's a fervent Abbotsford man.

Another one.

Jack.

Harry Harper was a brilliant player.
He was a good bloke, too.

He worked in shipping, didn't he?

Managing one of my warehouses,
after he left West Melbourne.

Rosie and I have become quite close
to both the Harpers.

Celia must be shattered, poor thing.

Oh, and if you happen to see
our favourite Deputy Commissioner,

no need to mention we were here.

Father couldn't take
any more antagonising.

(Starts engine) Cheerio.

So Deputy Commissioner Sanderson's
a West Melbourne fan, sir.

Rabid, Collins. Life member.

We'll have to tread carefully.

MAN: Jonathan apples, 1s!
Sixpence a bushel!

(Continues spruiking)

(Both speak indistinctly)

Half a dozen oranges, please.

One more.

If you insist.

But you can keep the change.

Is that more
than you were paid for the hat?

I don't have
the faintest idea what you're...

Have you heard about Harry Harper?

Yeah, The Hangman? What about him?

Found dead in the locker rooms
last night.

Well, I never liked him.
He was a traitor to the West.

Nevertheless, I think Abbotsford
have enough going against them

without the coach losing
his lucky hat as well, don't you?

And the police will be
looking very closely

at everyone who was at
the clubrooms last night,

especially anyone with a motive
to knock off Abbotsford's captain.

Look, whatever you think I did,

I did it for all of us
that love West Melbourne,

not for a rotten pound.

I have a witness
who can identify you.

And if you don't cooperate,
I'll take you to the police myself.

If I tell you who it was,
he'll kill me.

A description will do.

(Whistles)

(Both speak indistinctly)

JACK: That's right.

Stan Baines took The Hangman
under his wing at West,

then as soon as
he becomes their shining star,

The Hangman deserts his teammates
and joins West's archenemy - us.

Because Gibbs never
let him off his leash.

It speaks to
the man's character, Collins.

Why do you think Harper
was called 'The Hangman'?

The amount of time
he could hang in the air.

Or the amount of heads he almost
took off. He was out for himself.

Yes, but that's what made him
so invincible on the field.

I think you're wrong.

Sir.

Sorry, sir.

Harper carried a guilty conscience.

That's why he went soft

every time he went up
against his old teammates.

That didn't stop him the first game
of the season.

Harper and Baines had that punch on
on the field,

and then Harper ripped through him
throughout the whole second half.

Yes, a feat Harry Harper
won't be repeating.

I want to talk to
his old teammates.

Dark hair, big shoulders? Could be
half a dozen West Melbourne blokes.

CEC: Or Abbotsford blokes
getting back at Coach Maclean.

He was always blueing
with his players.

Like who?
Like Harry Harper.

Aghh! He wasn't above
the odd set-to with his own coach.

You can't speak ill of the dead
like that.

Players and coaches
argue all the time.

Half-time, boys.
Poppy? Another crumb?

Gold front tooth.

Has to be him.
Who?

BOTH: Stan Baines.

Coach Gibbs dedicated
the first match of the season

to the dear departed.

And Harry thought we were trying
to put the wind up him.

And were you?
No.

Gibbs meant his kid who passed on.
Myra.

How did you feel
about him leaving West Melbourne?

Bloody angry.

But you know why
I wouldn't rub him out?

I wanted to make my 300.

And I wanted my last day
on the field to be against Harry.

(Door opens)

Inspector, sorry to interrupt.

Stan Baines,
captain for West Melbourne.

Delighted to meet you.

Miss Fisher. Lady Detective.

If I might have a word with you
about Joe Maclean's lucky hat?

Is this a joke?

Harry Harper's dead

and you're worried about
his coach's flea-bitten old cap?

You're here about Harper's death.
Answer the questions.

Do you know a young woman
called Poppy Brown, West supporter?

Runs a fruit barrow?

Maybe.

Well, she confessed to the theft
under heavy interrogation,

but she refused
to name the man who paid her.

What is this?

She your fullback?

I like the sound of that.

Excuse me, sir.
Yes.

Deputy Commissioner Sanderson's
here, with Coach Gibbs.

Neville Gibbs telephoned me,
complaining of police harassment.

He tells me that you've
brought Stan Baines in.

Now, he can't be a suspect
in this murder, surely.

It seemed worth a chat
with him, sir,

given the pair's history,
recent and long-term.

Have you turned up
any hard evidence?

A West Melbourne scarf
was found at the crime scene.

I said hard evidence.
Anyone could have planted that.

But I can't rule out Baines yet.

Jack, Stan Baines is still
a popular player with West fans.

Now if word gets out
that you are an Abbotsford man

and you are harassing him
unnecessarily...

..it's you who will be suspect.

We're not holding Baines, Mr Gibbs.

He's told us what we need to know
and he's free to go.

Good.

For the moment.

(Men shouting angrily)

MAN: Get off him, you bastard!
Let him through!

BERT: Hey, why'd you do it?!
Why'd you do it, Baines?!

(Shouting continues)

Hey, let them through.
Let them through!

Get back!

We're down our best man, Gibbs,
but we'll fight back.

You're gonna pay for this, pal.
HUGH: Stay back!

Bloody hell.

Stan Baines took it, you reckon?

Yeah, well, it doesn't surprise me.

(Sneezes)
Bless you.

Thank you.

Do you know why Harry Harper
left West Melbourne

to come across to you?

Baines wouldn't let him
spread his wings.

And Gibbs wasn't on top of a thing
because he'd had a bad trot.

First his wife died,
then his kid, one after the other.

So, moving to Abbotsford
solved all Harry Harper's problems?

Seems so.
He married Celia, won the captaincy.

Only got the willies
when we played West Melbourne

and he ended up
one on one with Baines.

(Sneezes)

Bless you.
Thank you, Bert.

So what will happen,
now that you've lost your captain?

Vince Barlow will have to step up.
DOT: He's the vice-captain.

He was full-forward,
in line for the captaincy

before Harry Harper
moved across to Abbotsford.

(Sniffles)

Hugh, he's my beau,
explained it all to me.

Abbotsford man, is he?

Very much, sir.
(Phone ringing)

Yeah, well you've chosen well.

Yeah, we'll have to shuffle
a few of the lads,

but nothing's going to
fill the hole that Harry's left.

MR BUTLER:
Telephone, Miss. The Inspector.

I'm off, anyway.
Come on, Scotty. Come on. Come on.

Thank you... for this. And the tea.

And if you could tell the Inspector,

any developments
I'd appreciate a nod.

PHRYNE: Of course.

(Scotty barks)

Lucky I didn't tell him
you're a West Melbourne girl.

Until you hook up with Hugh Collins,
that is.

If Hugh marries me,
I don't see why I should convert.

No choice. He'll want to
take his kids to the game.

I'll divide them up,
just like my mum did.

Girls for the West,
and boys for Abbotsford.

It's people like you
who bring footy clubs down, Dottie!

(Clears throat)

I was just looking at his tattoo.

You've seen it before.

Well, my case is closed.

The hat is back where it belongs
and Coach Maclean is most grateful.

Full marks.

But it won't win me any points
with the Deputy Commissioner.

It's very bad luck that his daughter
found herself another Abbotsford man.

Sidney Fletcher won't be winning
any points with him, either.

Let's talk about
Harry Harper's feet.

The burns are third degree.

Really? Which doesn't make any sense.
No.

We got the water
back up to full heat,

but even then it wasn't enough
to burn skin.

And his feet were hanging
off the ground, in any case.

It's a conundrum.
What about cause of death?

We're still
waiting on the full autopsy,

but preliminary examination points
to strangulation, no broken neck.

But these marks indicate a rope.

If it was a rope that killed him,

how did he come
to be hanging by a scarf?

Assuming we're dealing with
a suicide, Harper throws a rope...

Yet to be found.

Ties it off at the tap,
climbs up, kicks the stool out,

hangs himself.

Badly. Slowly suffocating
instead of snapping his own spine.

Why was the hot water running?
That's odd.

Especially because Maclean's big on
cold-water treatments all winter.

Toughens up the players.

Sounds hideous.

He kicked out with his feet,
turning the taps on by accident.

Or perhaps it was whoever it was
that swapped the rope for the scarf.

Someone strong enough
to haul him up again.

Or smart enough to attach the
scarf first, then release the rope.

Alright. Manly strength
versus womanly intelligence.

Who would want to make a suicide
look like a murder?

And why would Harry Harper, a man
at the peak of his football career,

want to kill himself
in the first place?

(Boisterous shouting)

No, I don't believe it.

Harry had too much fight in him.

You're wrong.

Even if Harry Harper
died by his own hand,

someone interfered
with the body afterwards.

Why?

That's another mystery
we're trying to solve.

What were you doing last night,
Mr Maclean?

Me?
Where were you?

I was here at the clubrooms,

having a drink with the lads
after training, from about six.

Until when?

After ten. After I gave up
looking for my bloody hat!

And you are wasting your time!

Harry Harper was murdered
by West Melbourne!

And I will continue to
interview people from both clubs,

Mr Maclean,
until I've solved this case.

Joe Maclean
was at the clubrooms last night.

But we still need
to verify the times.

Bert was there. He could help.

Maclean was no help at all
with Harry Harper's state of mind?

Refuses to even entertain
the possibility of suicide.

And I'm with him, sir.

Collins.

Looks like I'll have to raise it
with Harper's widow.

You said she was
staying with your... wife.

Former...
Your... your former...

Wife.
Wife.

Yes.

And her fiance.

Potentially awkward.

But then what's awkward
compared to dying naked in the shower

with the opposition's scarf
around your throat?

Besides, you have me on your team.

# I'm looking over
a four leaf clover

# That I overlooked before... #

Whatever kind of shipping
Mr Fletcher dabbles in

must be doing very nicely.

(Knocks)

Oh, it's Jack.

I thought it was Father.
It's that policeman's knock. Just...

We've come to speak with Mrs Harper.

Oh. And of course, Miss Fisher.

Miss Sanderson.

Please, call me Rosie.

Likewise. Phryne.

Is this a good time?

Yes.

I've just come to help Sidney

with preparations
for Harry's service this afternoon.

Please.

CELIA: I know that he struggled
after he left West Melbourne.

He was branded a traitor.

But after that, things improved.

Thanks to your help, Sidney.

I don't know what either of us would
have done without your support.

Don't be silly. Offering him a job
was the least I could do.

Jack? Miss Fisher?

Yes, I've always admired him
for his ability to play football

and surprisingly,
a good head for business.

So Harry wasn't
in any kind of financial trouble?

Not that I know of, though I'm...

..I'm sure there were things
that Harry didn't share with me.

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

Oh, poor Celia.

Were Celia and Harry happy together,
do you think?

They'd only been married
a couple of years.

I think they had
a perfectly good marriage.

Celia said they were planning
a cruise to the continent

at the end of the season.

Sounds romantic.

I thought so.

So this service
you're holding today.

SIDNEY: Yes, it's for the team
as much as Celia.

Mm. We just hope
the newspapers will stay away.

Mm.
Jack?

We know you want to solve this case.
I mean, we all want that.

But it would be
so much easier for Celia

if there weren't a police presence.

Of course.

I assume you never took Rosie
on a continental cruise.

No, but I did take her to Mrs
Moller's Holiday Cottages at Lorne.

Excellent choice.

Rosie seemed very quick to defend
Celia and Harry's marriage.

And what did Celia mean, the things
Harry never shared with her?

I'm sure you'll try and find out
at his memorial service

while I keep
my police presence away.

Don't sulk, Jack.

I'm sure the Deputy Commissioner's
not invited.

Besides, you may need
to visit a travel agent.

Where did you souvenir that?

Vince Barlow's locker.

Looks like somebody else
was planning a sea voyage.

Phryne Fisher.

I didn't know
you were an Abbotsford supporter.

It's a fledgling interest.

What are you hoping to find here?

Vince Barlow seems very attentive.

Oh.

If you're looking for
a scarlet woman,

I think you'll find
you'll be disappointed.

I'd never presume to judge a woman
on the basis of her morals.

I'm only trying
to solve a murder case.

I thought you and Jack
suspected suicide.

I don't think Harper's the type.

I'd have to agree with you there.

Purely on the basis of intuition.

Intuition or observation.

Sometimes one becomes the other.

A gesture, a little too intimate?

You suspect Vincent
of harming Harry?

People usually kill
for love or money.

Celia did ask my advice.

About what?

Uh, divorce,

but I don't think she had any plans
on going through with it.

MAN: What's Baines doing here?

Ohh...

What's Baines doing here?

I've come to pay my respects.

Despite everything,
we were teammates.

This is for Harry.

Mrs Harper.

MAN: Get him out of here.

You have a bloody cheek
turning up here.

You should not have come here!
Get out of my face!

MACLEAN: You've got no shame.
Go, before we throw you out!

VINCE: Celia. Celia!

What are you saying?
What are you accusing me of?

I don't know what else to think.

I would have waited.
I would have suffered for you.

But everything's different now.
This is our chance.

Get your hands off me!

Stanley! I thought it was you.
We need to talk.

He's onto us.

Oi! What are you doing here?

You bloody hypocrite.
Your lot killed Harry.

This is Abbotsford's turf, mate.

You don't know the half of it,
O'Farrell.

MAN: Come back
and finish the fight, Baines!

Come on, ya coward!

JACK: Did The Hangman know
you and Celia were lovers?

Harry was a useless husband,
and didn't give a damn about Celia.

He didn't give two hoots
about the other women, either.

All he cared about was the game,
nothing else.

Not his team, not other people,
and certainly not his marriage.

You and Celia Harper have tickets
booked for the end of the season

on the Halcyon Sky cruise ship,
in adjoining cabins.

I checked with King and Co.

Celia was asking Harry
for a divorce,

so there was no need
to get him out of the way.

Vincent and I wouldn't have done
anything to disrupt the game.

Like go on a cruise together?

You have to understand,

Harry was too wrapped up in his own
problems to have any time for me.

He never got over
making the move to Abbotsford.

Wasn't it his decision?

He was only considering it.

And then Sidney Fletcher
offered him that job on the docks,

with the house as well, and...

A house?

But there's something else
you should know.

Something Harry said
the night before he died.

Go on.
(Door opens)

Where's Inspector Robinson?

I'll just tell him you're here,
Deputy Commissioner. (Clears throat)

We need to settle things down
on the streets, Jack.

If we don't sort out this case
before the match on Saturday,

we will have a riot on our hands.

Did you know Sidney Fletcher
bought the Harpers a house?

I have heard the rumours.

Then you must know
Harper worked for Fletcher.

Well, if you have enough money,
you can buy anything you want.

So Fletcher bribed Harper
to swap teams?

I didn't say that.

Have you charged Barlow yet?

At this point,
he's only helping us with enquiries.

Then hold him overnight.

I'm not sure I can justify that.

Jack, at least if you've
got someone in custody,

we can keep a lid on this unrest.

Just till the morning.

(Door slams shut)

That is evidence
and you are not police.

And may I suggest that you
make yourself scarce, Miss Fisher?

A suggestion's
not the same as an order, is it?

Not in my book.

Does Mrs Harper have an alibi
for the night her husband died?

Yes, and I just found out.

According to Celia,
Harry refused to grant her a divorce

the night before he died.

Looks like Barlow's spending
the night with us after all.

(Door opens)

The full Coroner's report
has just arrived, sir.

Strangulation, no surprise there.

Bruising.

Harper was struck
with a blunt object

on the right side
of the back of his head.

So it wasn't a training injury.

And there was bruising
under the tape on his wrists,

consistent with the bruising
to his neck,

suggesting his hands
were bound with rope as well.

So he was murdered.

What I don't understand is why
whoever did it removed the rope.

In favour of a scarf?

Whoever spent so much time
knitting this

would be horrified
by where it ended up.

Don't feel like helping out,
Collins?

Do your bit for Abbotsford?

No, there's no point, sir.

Harper's gone,
and his vice-captain's locked up

for carrying on with his wife.

That was his motive, Collins,
not the reason we locked him up.

Anyway, I just need you to know,
sir, I've burnt my footy scarf.

Miss Fisher said
you were in training.

Hi, Dottie. No, we're just giving
Mr Barlow some air.

Are you sure that's safe, Inspector?

Letting an inmate out?

Well, he's outnumbered,
three to one now.

I used to make this for my brothers
when they played Juniors.

Chicory with honey and pepper.

It's to fortify them.

They lost every game,
but they gave it their best shot.

Every game?

Yes, but that's the hardest thing,
isn't it?

Staying true to your team
when everything's going wrong.

Just like you and the Inspector.

Make it count, Collins.

(Phone ringing)

Ah, Dot. How's Hugh faring?

He might still have some Abbotsford
spirit left in him yet, Miss.

Ah.

(Sneezes)

Oh, bless you. Not a cold coming on?

No, I thought it was just
that coach's dog that set me off,

but maybe. (Sniffles)

Dot, come here.

Take a sniff.

I may have...
Take a deep sniff.

(Sniffs)

Have you been petting him, Miss?

(Phone ringing)
(Sneezes)

No. I was...

Hello, Phryne Fisher speaking.

It's Stan Baines here.

I have a confession I need to make.

I'm at the West Melbourne
club rooms.

I'm on my way.

That you, Miss Fisher?

(Gunshot)

Now the West mob
will be crying foul.

A telephone call, you said.

Baines was drunk.

Something about a confession.

A woman was waiting for Stan Baines

when he left the memorial service
for Harry earlier today.

Did she threaten him?

No. She wanted to talk to him.

It seemed urgent,

but a bunch of Abbotsford
rabble-rousers showed up...

Miss.
Sorry.

That noisy Irish fellow kicked up
a fuss, and Baines knocked him down.

Pat O'Farrell.

Sounds like we need to find him
as well as this other woman.

Any idea how to track her down?

No, but she knew Stan Baines,

so I guess we start
with the West Melbourne camp.

Look at this.

Oh, two, nine... seven.

Number of games he played, sir?

No, no, but he played 298.

So we have a killer who can't count.

Stan Baines was still a suspect
for Harry Harper's death.

Perhaps someone else
thought he did it, too.

Someone like Pat O'Farrell, sir?

If there was a confrontation,
he's my first choice.

And then there's Celia Harper,
Joe Maclean, Vince Barlow.

Barlow's still at the station,
so he has a perfect alibi.

Oh, Christ.

Thanks for coming, Mr Gibbs.
We can talk outside.

Poppy Brown.

Hugh!
Oh! Yes, Miss?

I have an inkling
of where we can track down

this mystery friend of Stan Baines.

If I was going to
knock off a Wests player,

it'd be one of their young guns,
not a bloke on the way out.

Why don't you take a seat,
Mr O'Farrell?

Please, sit down.

Now, you have three times
been ejected from various grounds

for incitement and menaces.

You did three months
for bottling an umpire.

I'm passionate about the game.

Hm.

You were witnessed arguing
with him yesterday afternoon.

Where were you last night?

Raising a glass to Harry.

Then a fight outside around 11,

then at the bloody hospital
till two in the morning.

Good.
We'll check with the medical staff.

You do what you like.
You'll need another suspect.

Try one who owns a bloody gun.

Do you own a pistol?

I wouldn't know
how to use one if I did.

A Lee-Enfield rifle, maybe.

Shot, was he - Baines?

(Knock at door)

Excuse me, Inspector. Do you mind if
I ask Mr Maclean a quick question?

Be my guest.

Is your dog moulting?

I'm sorry, Miss Fisher? What?

Unfortunately,
my companion, Dorothy Williams,

has a terrible reaction
to Scotty's hair.

Maybe she should
just keep her distance.

But she also had
a terrible reaction to my gloves,

after I touched
the West Melbourne scarf

that was tied
around Harry Harper's neck.

Perhaps I... I just patted Scotty,
and then I touched that scarf.

You didn't go anywhere
near that scarf

after Harry Harper's body was found.

Did you murder him, before you
tied the scarf around his neck?

No!

You'd better explain, then.

One of the younger blokes
stole the scarf from West sheds.

I gave it to Scotty to sleep on.

So how did it end up
around Harry Harper's neck?

When I went to look for Harry, when
he hadn't turned up for the party,

I found him.

Our club captain, hanging by a rope
in the shower stall.

I went to my office, got that scarf,
and swapped it with the rope.

I wanted West Melbourne
to take the blame.

So you thought
you'd covered up a suicide?

Why should we believe you?

He left...

He left a note.

Pinned to the coat rack.

'I was a traitor to my team.
This is all I deserve.

I am sorry for everything. Harry'.

I couldn't have that come out

that Harry had killed himself
because he left West Melbourne.

You said Harry used
ice treatments after training.

Yes. He did that day, too.

There was a chunk of ice
left over the drain.

Ice can cause third-degree burns,
can't it?

If the contact is long enough.

So what gave you the idea?

An upset bowl of ice
at Harry Harper's memorial.

So how will this establish
the time of death, Miss?

The ice was almost gone when Maclean
found him around eight o'clock.

And the water was still running hot.

So we can work backwards

to find out when Harry
was placed on the block of ice

that burnt his feet
and eventually led to his death.

An hour and fifteen minutes.

Which means Harper was forced
onto the block around 6:45pm.

So who had the opportunity then?

(Chatter)

Poppy Brown?

You just missed her.

Ahh!

(Sighs)

Well, I'll just make do
with you, then.

Tell me who this woman is,
standing next to you.

It's Mrs Dangerfield.

And?

She used to be the club nurse.

Used to?

Yeah, before Myra Gibbs died.

Two years ago,
Stan Baines telephoned me.

I delivered his first kid here, and
perhaps he thought I was discreet.

I had to be, at times.

Women would come to me
for... all kinds of help.

If they were in trouble?

But it was too late
by the time they brought Myra to me.

She'd already tried to help herself,

with a knitting needle,
and she was losing the bub.

So what'd you do?
I did what I could.

And I managed to stop the bleeding,

but I gave them strict instructions
to head for hospital

if anything started up again.

I heard next morning
that she'd been rushed to hospital.

(Tearfully) I couldn't come forward.

I couldn't even go
to the poor lass's funeral.

(Weeps)

July 29th.

(Weeps)

You were away from the West
Melbourne party for over an hour.

Well, that doesn't prove anything.

Your daughter died on July 29th,
two years ago.

What's that got to do with it?

We thought the number
carved into Baines' forehead

was a mistaken tally
of the games he'd played.

But it wasn't.

It was the date
of your daughter's death.

29-7.

This is all speculation.

No, no, it isn't.

You took two years to track down Mrs
Dangerfield, but we had more luck.

Myra's death wasn't
from peritonitis, was it?

I gave Harry a chance to confess.

When you dedicated the match
to the dear departed.

Harry knew the game was up.

And he still didn't
have the guts to front me.

Took it out on Baines instead.

So you made him write his goodbyes.

But you wanted something else
from Harry, didn't you?

Myra told me
there was two blokes involved...

..before she died.

So you decided
to force it out of him?

Harry must have told you
about Stan Baines' involvement.

Ah... eventually.

Said Baines told him to get shot
of Myra because she was in trouble.

Footy was what mattered.
Just the game, nothing else.

So you left Harry there?

Oh, I didn't care about him,
about the game.

Nothing.

After what he did to my little girl.

Callous bastard.

You planned it
to look like a suicide.

What did you make of your team scarf
ending up around Harry's neck?

I thought it was ironic.

Myra knitted that scarf for me.

And Joe Maclean used it
to cover up your deed.

Of course.

Who else but a coach
would risk going to jail

for the sake
of a lousy football team?

So then you went after Stan Baines.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

(Cheering, applause)

(Crowd shout encouragement)

Come on!
Come on, Abbotsford!

Go Wests!

Abbotsford!
Go Wests!

Abbotsford!
Go Wests!

(Crowd continues chanting)

Abbotsford!
Go Wests!

You look dashing, Hugh.

Well, you don't want anyone
confused about who you barrack for.

And I used my best wool, so you're
not allowed to burn this one.

Yes.
Oh.

Just wanted to wish you luck.

I'm surprised the game's
still going ahead.

The club presidencies
met last night

to consider cancelling
out of respect.

Father lost to Sidney.

Even my observational skills tell
me that this does not bode well.

Excuse me.

Beautiful. Here.

Do you think Rosie knows her fiance

bribed Harry Harper
to leave her father's team?

All's fair in love and football,
Miss Fisher.

I'm glad you think so.

So tell me, what kept you
away from the game?

My mother.

After I was caught trying to
sabotage Carlton's newest recruit

by smuggling him beer.

Always an unsuspecting man involved.

I was only 10 at the time.

So this should be interesting.

At least the last week
has levelled the playing field.

Two dead players, one coach locked up
for obstructing an investigation

and the other one
charged with murder.

Anything could happen.

Even a Collingwood girl would
have to stay for a game like that.

So what do you think?

To humour an Abbotsford man.

(Whistle blows)

(Cheering, applause)

# My baby don't care for shows

# My baby don't care for clothes

# My baby just cares for me

# My baby don't care for
silks and faces

# My baby don't care for
high-tone places

# My baby don't care for rings

# Or other expensive things

# She's sensible as can be

# My baby don't care

# Who knows it

# My baby just cares for me. #

Captions by CSI Australia