Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (2012–…): Season 3, Episode 7 - Game, Set and Murder - full transcript

(Tennis ball thwacks)

(Screams)

♪ Theme music

DOT: It'll be exciting, having
a tennis champion to stay.

Do you think Mrs Burrows
will sign this for me?

I'm sure she'd be delighted to.

I don't think much of tennis,
but her pins are alright.

~ That's not why she's in the paper.
~ Could have fooled me.

(Knocking at door)

Hugh!

Dottie!



You hardly even wrote.

~ I, uh, I sent you postcards.
~ About fish.

Dottie, I'm sorry I left in a
huff - I was confused about...

I was just confused, but
I missed you very much.

If we're going to get married,

you have to promise you'll
never do that again.

~ Of course we're getting married.
~ What about your mother?

Well, I gave her a choice.

I said I could either marry
a virtuous Catholic girl

or a Protestant girl
with loose morals.

~ What Protestant girl?
~ No, there's no... no-one.

There's no Protestant...
but don't tell her that.

Oh! Ah!

She's given us her blessing.



Besides, she's not going to argue

with a senior constable, now, is she?

A promotion?

The Inspector told the top brass

that if they didn't give me
the promotion, he'd resign.

Oh, Hugh! I'm so glad you're home.

STANLEY: Very good of your aunt
to let us take over her court.

~ She'll be back for the tournament?
~ PHRYNE: No! Not on your life.

No, Aunt Prudence can't
abide ball sports.

I thought she was just miffed
over missing our wedding.

I'm the one who's miffed!

Stanley, you're one of my dearest
friends and I had no idea!

We eloped, Phryne. That's
the whole point.

Nobody was invited.

Don't forget the split step.

Keep the contact point
in front of your body.

And you cut your honeymoon short.

Oh, for the Sydney Cup!
I couldn't miss that.

And as Constance's
coach, I had to agree,

but we didn't mind spending
our honeymoon on the court.

Not literally, one hopes.

You'd better save some of your
firepower for the tournament.

With any luck, we'll
have a full house.

With Constance playing,
I have no doubt.

Mrs Burrows, I was wondering
if you'd mind signing this.

Oh, no!

That windy day at Sydney
Cup - I'm practically naked!

~ I think you look divine!
~ So do I.

~ Oh, who took the shots?
~ Mr Fredrick Burn.

Yes, I've had my encounters with him.

~ It's always a dance with the press.
~ A dance?

I want nothing to do with that
hideous man or his pictures.

Oh, sorry, Miss Williams!

~ Of course I'll sign for you.
~ Thank you.

Miss Fisher! Over here!

PHRYNE: Belinda Roswell
- she was Constance's...

.. er, Mrs Burrows' practice partner.

She's much more than that. She's
a future champion in her own right.

I can't believe this!

STANLEY: It'll be OK, darling.

These puncture marks look
like a spider bite. Strange.

As far as I know, there are
no lethal spiders in Victoria.

As far as you know?
What about redback?

A redback bite wouldn't be fatal.

Whatever it was, it was
clearly in her shoe.

~ That's my shoe.
~ Your shoe?

Bel wanted to stay behind after
we left to practise her serve,

but there was some problem
with her shoes.

I said she could borrow mine.

What time was that?

Around three o'clock.
(Sobs) I'm sorry!

May we be excused?

You showed remarkable restraint,
not investigating till I arrived.

Well, I'm happy for you
to be the scout, Jack,

while we wait and see what kind
of wildlife we're dealing with.

Miss Fisher, I found
this in the hedge.

A broken shoelace? Well spotted, Dot!

That explains why she was
wearing Constance's shoes.

Must have been a fast-acting venom

if it prevented the victim
from escaping the rotunda.

I must say, Hugh, those
new stripes suit you.

You know, I think the family
are all in England,

but there might be
some sort of addre...

Arggh!

Spider.

Take this to the car,
please, Collins,

along with Miss Roswell's belongings.

HUGH: Yes, sir.

Well, I've finally found your
Achilles heel, Miss Fisher -

fear of arachnids.

I'm not afraid, I just...
like to know where they are.

~ What's that over there?
~ (Shrieks)

MAN: Miss Fisher?

Lovely. Now, look right at me.

~ Oi! Clear off!
~ Don't say anything.

It's Fredrick Burn from The Globe.

~ You're a gift, Miss Fisher.
~ (Don't.)

HUGH: Poor Miss Fisher. I've
never seen her like that.

How about you, eh?
Cool as a cucumber.

I love all of God's creatures, Hugh,

though it does make it hard
when they kill people.

Dottie, you've brought half
the hedge back with you.

(Shutter clicks)

(Dot laughs)

It's a Sydney funnel-web,
which explains a lot.

Their fangs are so powerful,

they can penetrate
fingernails and soft shoes,

let alone the poor
girl's cotton socks.

And when it's cornered, it
bites its victim repeatedly,

which explains the multiple
puncture wounds

and that local bleeding on the foot.

Could you estimate the time of death?

I'd say, approximately 6pm.

Which explains why
no-one saw anything -

training finished at three.

But a Sydney funnel-web,
are you sure?

Certain.

It's distinctly odd - this spider
isn't native to Melbourne.

Must have crawled inside
Mrs Burrows' bag

when they were in Sydney for the Cup.

~ How devious.
~ But highly unlikely.

This species hides away
in dark and moist places

and actively avoids light, open
spaces like tennis courts.

Mac, are you suggesting
human intervention?

I'm saying that can't be discounted.

Which means the spider
could have been

deliberately placed
in Constance's shoe.

~ A murder attempt on me?
~ Dear God!

I'm sorry to alarm you, Constance,

but can you think of anyone
who may want to hurt you?

BOTH: Angela Lombard.

She never misses an opportunity
to put Constance off her game.

Angela's been world champion
for several years now,

but when you're up that high,
the only way is down.

With Constance nipping at her heels?

Yes, and last I heard,

world champions don't take
kindly to that sort of thing.

This is the SY Ena.
Isn't she glorious?

Angela's a keen sailor, so I've
arranged to have her stay on board

while she's here for
my tennis tournament.

~ Your tournament?
~ Yes.

I'm holding a fundraising cocktail
party on board tomorrow afternoon.

I never knew you were so
passionate about tennis.

I have many passions, Jack,
including women's rights.

Did you know the Australian
Lawn Tennis Association

pays for our men to compete
all over the world,

and women have to pay their own way?

It's a gross injustice!

If anyone is to address that,
it'll be you, Miss Fisher.

Somebody has to.

We can't all be married to
wealthy men like Stanley,

who's a tennis coach to boot.

Angela, on the other hand, is
in the midst of an ugly divorce

from her extremely wealthy husband.

Leaving her with financial trouble?

And a waning career,

which makes her a potentially
desperate woman.

(Dance-band jazz plays on gramophone)

Well, if it isn't the
Honourable Miss Fisher!

Who's your fella? I hope your
intentions aren't honourable.

I'm Detective Inspector Jack
Robinson, Miss Lombard.

We're here on official business.

I'm afraid Belinda Roswell's
been murdered.

You mean Constance's understudy?
That's lousy luck for the kid.

It certainly is,

especially since it seems the
intended victim was Constance.

You don't say.

Where were you yesterday afternoon?

Below deck with Terence Lawson.

We left the court at your
aunt's house around midday

and stayed right here
for the rest of the day.

~ Doing what?
~ You're a red-blooded woman.

~ Take a guess.
~ MAN: Ange, who are you talk...

G'day, Miss Fisher.

Mr Lawson.

Here for business or pleasure?

This is Detective Inspector Robinson.
We'd like to ask you a few questions.

Down at the station, if I may.

What time did you and Miss Lombard
leave the tennis court yesterday?

~ Two o'clock.
~ You sound very sure.

That's because I am.

Has Miss Lombard ever
said anything to you

about wanting to harm
Constance Burrows?

Don't you mean Belinda?

It appears the intended
victim was Constance.

Connie?

'Connie?'

We used to play mixed
doubles together.

But that's all there was between you?

Not for the lack of
trying on my part.

I was keen on Connie, like
all the other blokes,

but all she was interested
in was playing tennis.

~ Must have hurt your pride.
~ Not particularly.

I had plenty of other options.

Terence Lawson? We never
socialised off the court.

I can't see why he'd want to kill me.

He admitted he was
enamoured with you.

Really?

I always thought he was just
enamoured with tennis,

like the rest of us.

Don't you think it's the
most glorious game, Phryne?

When I see a perfectly
struck ground stroke

or I hear the thwack of
the ball on the racquet

and I smell that freshly cut lawn,

my heart almost aches
for the beauty of it.

There's no doubt tennis
is the love of your life.

It has some stiff
competition from Stanley.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

~ That's a beautiful dress.
~ Yes.

Except I haven't worn it for awhile,

and it's rather too
snug at the moment.

You alright?

Oh, I'm trying to keep a cold at bay.

That's why I've brought
my own brew with me.

~ Seems to be helping.
~ STANLEY: I see you, Burn!

Phryne?

I just saw that damn Fredrick
Burn lurking in the bushes!

Stay here.

Mr Burn!

Leave immediately, or I'll have
you arrested for trespassing.

Can't do a thing. I'm
outside the gate.

Stanley. We don't want
two murders on our hands.

Au revoir, ladies and gentlemen.

Poor Constance! As if
losing Bel isn't enough.

This could throw her
right off her game.

Oh, I know how that sounds,

but her training for
the US Championships

is the only thing helping her cope.

If that damn Burn...

Oh, my God! How could
I have forgotten?

Constance made a formal harassment
complaint against him last week.

~ Last week?
~ In Sydney.

And the police told us that he
was already facing other charges.

What other charges?

They wouldn't elaborate.

Well, this certainly warrants
a chat with Mr Burn.

Morning, sir.

I, er, thought you should see this.

JACK: 'Is it love-all for
the Honourable Miss Fisher?'

'It seems the raven-haired
lady detective

has found a new ball boy
in Inspector Jack Robinson.'

~ What do you think, Dot?
~ I think he's captured our best angles.

Well, Collins, if you'll
forgive another pun,

I think I'm in for a serve.

(Telephone rings)

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.

Yes, Commissioner.

Understood.

Goodbye, sir.

I am forbidden to solve
cases with a civilian.

Won't be long, Collins.

Thank you, Mr Butler.

Jack, I have news.

Apparently, Fredrick Burn is facing
a number of criminal charges.

I'll get Collins onto it. Sign this.

What have I just agreed to?

You are now a special constable
of the Victoria Police Force.

How wonderful! Don't I get
a certificate or something?

I've been saving this since
I was ten years old...

.. for Buffalo Bill...
but you'll have to do.

Mr Butler, have you seen Miss Fisher?

She's just gone out
with the Inspector.

(Knocks at door)

Mr Burn, open up! Detective
Inspector Jack Robinson.

(Deep voice) And Special
Constable Phryne Fisher.

What?

I didn't appreciate you lurking
outside my house yesterday.

That's harassment.

I don't harass people!

I'm getting sick of toffs
acting holier-than-thou

when they should be thanking
me for the exposure!

If this is about that
pic in The Globe...

This is about murder.

Constance Burrows recently filed
a formal complaint against you.

You can't have been happy about that.

Constance Burrows is a whinging cow.

What's that got to do with the young
piece of skirt that carked it?

Belinda's murder was
intended for Constance,

but perhaps you already knew that.

~ How could I?
~ Where were you on Tuesday afternoon?

Wherever Constance Burrows was.

Look, why would I try and kill her?

I'm not gonna bite the
hand that feeds me!

Snaps of that stupid
bint are my meal ticket!

And what are these?

Arggh!

So, Mr Burn, I think this calls for
a closer look at your handiwork.

If I find out these photos were taken

after you were charged
with obscenity...

I'm not selling these. They're art
- for my own private edification.

~ Art?
~ Yeah.

It was good enough for Michelangelo.

These young ladies better
not have been coerced.

Don't get your silk knickers
in a knot, Miss Fisher.

They all volunteered
for a few spare bob.

See anyone you like?

~ Hey!
~ Thank you. Sit down!

That's my Lumberjack Whisky,
and you can't take that.

Lumberjack? You can only
get this in Canada.

(Sniffs) Or America.

They smuggle it over the
border to cheat prohibition.

You don't strike me as a seasoned
traveller. Where'd you get it?

Friend.

Hello, Hugh. I've brought
you some evidence.

Lucky one of us is
working on the case.

No, I was just... I was
just checking something.

~ Oh, no.
~ What?

Look!

'It's a handful of fun for
Senior Constable Hugh Collins

and Miss Phryne Fisher's companion,
Miss Dorothy Williams.'

~ It looks like you're touching my...
~ No, it doesn't, Dottie. It doesn't.

But it says, 'a handful of fun',
so that's what everyone will think.

~ (Door opens)
~ You!

Collins!

It's not my fault you can't
keep your paws off each other.

Get out of here before I lock you up.

PHRYNE: Oh, Dot!

What's my mother going to say, Miss?

And Hugh's mother. She
thought I was virtuous.

And anyone who knows
you knows that you are.

What's that you've got?

I found it when I went to repair
Mrs Burrows' evening dress.

Virtuous and brilliant!

PHRYNE: 'Forever yours, Terry.'

You mean Connie kept this?
Where did you find it?

Mr Lawson, perhaps you're
missing the point.

~ This proves you lied to us.
~ (Laughs) It wasn't me!

Alright, Connie dumped me for
Stanley and it stung a bit.

Like I said, I've got
plenty of takers.

I don't doubt that for a moment,

but it remains abundantly clear your
heart still belongs to Constance.

How long were you and
Mrs Burrows together?

We met when we were tennis-mad
kids in Horsham.

~ What went wrong?
~ What hasn't gone wrong this year?

I injured my shoulder
at the end of summer,

then I missed out on the finals,

and then, just after Easter, Connie
ditched me out of the blue.

Next thing I knew, she'd
married Stanley Burrows.

But she kept my picture.
She must still care for me.

And yet she married
my friend Stanley.

She must have had her
reasons, Mr Lawson.

CONSTANCE: I'm so sorry, Phryne,

but you're one of Stanley's dearest
friends, and I panicked.

I shouldn't have lied.

It won't help our investigation.

If you and Terence were a couple
long before you met Stanley,

then why the need to keep it secret?

Because... we were intimate.

If the press ever found out,
they'd gladly drag me down -

all for the sake of
a youthful dalliance.

If that's all it was, then
why keep this photograph?

I forgot about it.

I don't want Stanley to find out
and get the wrong impression.

So, your husband doesn't know about
your history with Mr Lawson?

STANLEY: Yes, he does.

It wasn't hard to see that you'd
thrown the poor fellow over for me.

He's mooning around you constantly.

Oh, Stanley! Terence
is rewriting history.

The fact is he always had
his eye on other girls.

Is that why you ended the affair?

I was confused, so I went
away to clear my head

and realised that all I could
think about was Stanley -

and my forehand volley!

You should have been thinking
about your back spin.

I don't mean to make light of Ter...

(Screams) Get it away from me!

~ Another spider?
~ Snake!

No, it's an eel.

(Giggles)

You won't put me off
my game that easily!

Stanley, I'm sure it's
our turn on court.

Be my guest! I need
to cool off anyway.

I'll let you deal with the bombshell
while I keep my eye on the newlyweds.

Inspector! Fabulous shot of you and
Miss Fisher in The Globe today.

Are you exclusively Phryne's ball boy

or do you spread yourself around?

Only a glass? You gave Fredrick
Burn a whole flask.

I wouldn't have thought
he was your type.

You got that right. I prefer
a man with a gun in his hand.

Then why offer him your good whisky?

There's something between
you, isn't there?

Oh, honey! Now you're
just sounding jealous.

I already told you
- I like you better.

Miss Lombard, perhaps you don't realise
how precarious your alibi is.

Mr Lawson recalls things differently.

What can I tell you?

When a fella's with me,
he tends to get confused.

Now, Jack... Can I call you that?

Why would I want to
kill that dumpy dame?

I'm having too much fun
throwing her off her game.

With Fredrick Burn's help.

Alright, I confess.

So, I've been paying Fred
to rattle her chain.

You know what they say - all's
fair in love and tennis.

Now, why don't I put
on my bathing costume

and you join me for a dip?

Perhaps some other time.

Oh, if you're going to
disappoint me, Inspector,

the least you can do is untie me.

See?

That wasn't so hard.

Poor Dot! You mustn't worry about
that photograph. It will blow over.

I don't see how, Miss.

My mother said that Hugh's not
the gentleman he pretends to be,

and Hugh's mother told him that

I've got no right to wear
white at my wedding.

Oh, dear.

What if Father O'Leary sees it?

I just want to curl up and disappear.

No, Dot. This won't do. You must
stand proud and laugh it off.

Can I do that in my room,
with the door closed?

No - I insist that you
come to my cocktail party

and show the world
you're above the fray.

It'll make you feel better, promise.

Dot?

Arggh! (Shudders)

Dot! DOT!

Ingenious, Miss Fisher.

So, the intended victim
secured the area

by trapping a spider
under a... a what?

Just call it an internal device.

An internal...

Oh!

So, it seems Constance's would-be
killer wants you dead too.

~ I'm trying not to take it personally.
~ Very least, to frighten you off.

(Gasps)

I know you'll find this
unpalatable, Miss Fisher,

but with Mr Burrows in the house...

Jack! Stanley is besotted
with Constance.

They're conquering the
tennis world together.

He's hardly likely to want
to try and kill her - or me.

No, somebody came in
through the open window.

Ah!

Look!

They tore a part of their clothing.

Is it white cotton, Miss?
Could be tennis whites.

Terence Lawson is athletic enough
to have made his way up here.

Fredrick Burn can wheedle
his way into most places.

In either case, they could have
been co-opted by Angela Lombard

to try and frighten me off.

I doubt she needs anyone
to hide behind,

and I found her reading a very
serious-looking document

when I questioned her today.

She left this envelope behind.

'Blue Spruce Tennis
Shoe Company. Urgent.'

Constable Collins and I may need

to attend your party this
afternoon to conduct a search.

Oh, Jack, you can't!

A police presence won't encourage
people to donate pots of money.

I'll find the document, and you...

Er... Collins?

(Whistle blasts)

(Dance-band jazz plays on gramophone)

MR BUTLER: Champagne cocktail?

Thank you, Mr B. Anything to report?

The press have arrived.

BURN: Ladies?

Lovely! Lovely!

~ I'll stand over there.
~ No hiding!

You are standing proud and
laughing it off, remember?

Now, keep Angela busy for me.

ANGELA: I'll tell you what,

I'm glad that goddamn
lug's divorcing me!

Oh, sure, I punched
him once or twice,

but he tried to make
me give up my tennis!

Oh, wanted to chain me
to the goddamn sink!

Say, honey, didn't I
see you in The Globe,

making out with your fella?

~ (Laughter)
~ Er...

Good for you, kiddo.
You're one racy dame!

(Laughter)

Cheers!

Oh, I spilled some champagne.
How clumsy of me!

~ (Flash bulb pops)
~ Would you leave me alone?!

Miss Fisher.

(Cabin door opens)

What are you doing in
here, all on your own?

Oh, I'm just... admiring
the woodwork.

I wouldn't mind buying a steam
yacht of my own some day.

You, er... sleeping over?

No. I don't own much.
I like to keep it safe.

Something wrong?

Just admiring the cut of your jib.

(Laughs) Mind if I do the same?

Oooh, is this a private party?

I'm missing all the fun.

I might go and find myself a drink.

Say, did I mention that Jack and
me had a swell talk this afternoon?

No, you didn't.

He sure knows how to
unhook a gal's dress.

Must be those strong,
manly fingers of his.

Well, it's so much better when
he does it with his teeth.

I'm trying so hard,

but I keep worrying that you'll
sneak off with Lawson.

I haven't spoken to him all
day. He means nothing to me.

I want to believe that,

but it took such a long time
for us to be intimate.

I told you, I just needed to focus.

You know how I am with my tennis,
but now I'm back in form.

We both are.

I still can't help feeling you're
only doing it under sufferance.

What do you want me to do to prove
it to you, ravish you right here?

~ Alright, let's do it!
~ Constance, shh!

Miss Fisher! You won't
believe what I just heard.

All in good time, Dot. Right now
we have a new suspect on our hands.

But why would I want
to kill Miss Fisher?

Because I was getting
too close to the truth.

What truth? That I tried
to kill Connie as well?

You people are stark, raving mad!

I loved her. I'd never hurt her.

I'd never hurt any woman.

Then how do you explain this?

I can't, unless someone set me up.

Whoever put that spider
in your bedroom,

they weren't trying to kill you.

What are you talking about? I could
have ended up like Belinda!

No, you couldn't. it's
a trapdoor spider.

Capable of giving a nasty bite,
but not enough to kill.

So, it was more likely
a practical joke.

Well, I fail to see the humour.

And the motive remains the same
- to scare me off the case.

And to frame Terence
Lawson at the same time.

Do you think you can
get rid of that now?

It's important evidence, Miss Fisher.

So is this, but you're not seeing
it until that disappears.

(Drawer closes)

That wasn't so difficult,
now, was it?

~ An endorsement contract.
~ Potentially.

An agreement with the Blue Spruce
Tennis Shoe Company of Utah,

owned and operated by
the Zollinger family,

a most Mormon-sounding name.

If Angela wins all her
matches in Australia,

she'll be given a lucrative
endorsement deal.

But if she loses even
one, the deal is off.

That's quite a motive.

Needless to say, she didn't
mention any of this

when I interviewed her earlier.

Before or after you helped
her out of her dress?

Just be careful Fredrick Burn
doesn't catch you at it.

Oh, Phryne.

What happened with Terence
Lawson? Was he charged?

It's all circumstantial, Stanley.

He was questioned and released,

but we'll certainly be
keeping an eye on him.

I better get this up to Constance.

~ Goodnight.
~ Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Poor Stanley.

He's so devoted.

I hope Constance isn't
toying with him.

Let's see if she's hiding any
other evidence of Terence.

Take her handbag. I'll
check through her coat.

Sorry!

Oh, dear!

Stanley hasn't become
any neater, I see.

I don't think there's
anything in here, Miss.

(Gasps)

Oh, no!

Alright, Belinda and I
had a... an arrangement,

but it only happened once.

Only once?

~ Really, Stanley?
~ Yes.

Belinda was a beautiful girl, and
if you'll forgive me for saying,

I know that your marital relations

weren't perhaps what you would
have hoped they would be.

Are you sure you didn't
fall in love with Belinda?

That's ludicrous.

You were carrying round
her photograph.

Yes, but that's got nothing to
do with love. You must know that.

So, if we could please not
mention this to Constance.

We'll be telling Mrs
Burrows everything

if we find out you tried to kill
her so you could be with Belinda.

Phryne, surely you
can't believe this.

Alright, Mr Burrows, you can go now.

Whatever his mores,

I find it difficult to believe that
Stanley would want Constance dead.

Unless he wanted Belinda dead.

Are you suggesting Belinda was
the intended victim all along?

And we've been hoodwinked into
thinking it was Constance.

You do know that would keep
Stanley Burrows in the frame?

Well, if he's innocent,
we'll prove it,

and if he's a murderer,
he's no friend of mine.

Perhaps he killed Belinda
to cover his shame.

Or maybe Constance found
out, and killed her.

I'll re-examine Belinda's belongings
and look into her associations.

Fredrick obviously
knew her quite well.

Yes. Time for another chat
with the charming Mr Burn.

He's far too slippery
a customer, Jack.

I have a better idea.

How well did you know
Belinda Roswell?

Can't recall. A little less
clothing might jog my memory.

You heard my terms - one item
per satisfactory answer.

~ Take it or leave it.
~ Alright, alright!

She was posing for
me for about a year.

Why didn't you tell us this before?

The poor girl's dead.

It's not as though you needed
to protect her reputation.

We had an agreement.

I was paying her to take sneaky
pics of other players,

especially Constance.

I thought Angela was
paying you to do that.

Angela was paying me
to rattle Constance,

but Belinda could get a lot closer
than me, so I gave her a cut.

Handy little arrangement too
- until Belinda called it off.

Why did she call it off?

You made the rules.

~ Now, can you lean forward...
~ No.

Why did Belinda call
off your arrangement?

She said she was being
paid better money

to do special favours
for somebody else.

What special favours, and for whom?

I don't know, but the last time
I saw her, she had to leave early.

She said she had a meeting with
Constance about a private matter.

A private matter? Indeed!

Are we finished already?
I haven't got all my shots.

But I've got all the
answers I came for,

and now, as a special constable
of the Victoria Police,

I'm confiscating this film.

When you held this private
meeting with Belinda,

was Stanley the topic
of conversation?

Yes, he was.

Were you angry because you'd
found out they'd been intimate?

No!

Not exactly.

Constance, I suggest you
tell me the truth now

or things are going
to look worse for you.

It's just...

.. I don't want to make
Stanley a laughing stock.

Why would he be a laughing stock?

The truth is...

.. I asked Bel to seduce
Stanley as a favour to me.

I know you'll judge me harshly,

but I'd fallen behind in my tennis
and I needed to get back on track!

I just didn't have room
for... Stanley's needs.

But I felt dreadful for him, so...

.. Bel helped.

Excuse me for saying, but it's
an odd attitude for a newlywed.

If you didn't have time for
Stanley, why marry him?

Because he's a good
man and a good coach.

He understands me.

~ And Terence?
~ He was just a fling.

In any case, he's not wealthy
enough to support my career.

But Stanley is.

At least you could afford to pay
Belinda for her special favours.

What do you mean? I didn't pay her.

Mrs Burrows, the big day
is here. I've got your...

Mrs Burrows? Are you alright?

Perfectly.

~ You're running a temperature.
~ No! It's just warm in here.

Thank you, Miss Williams.

I don't think you're
well enough to play.

Of course I am.

I can't miss Miss
Fisher's tournament.

~ Phryne. Good morning.
~ Constance.

Dot, I'm off to see the Inspector.

Excuse me. I should get ready.

Miss, I'm worried about her.

She's putting on a brave face,
but I think she looks ill.

She's been feverish for days.

This tea she's been drinking
seems to have made it worse.

Smells like sage.

~ Perhaps she's being poisoned.
~ Poisoned?

It's possible. She carries this
brew around with her everywhere.

Someone might have slipped something
into it. Let's ask Dr Mac to test it.

If Constance is being poisoned, perhaps
she was the target all along.

The killer didn't succeed the first
time and they're trying again.

If that's the case, why
the payments to Belinda?

That was a red herring. Constance
swears she didn't pay her.

Somebody did.

Two large amounts, above and
beyond Fredrick's bribes,

were deposited into Belinda's
account in the last two weeks,

in cash so they couldn't be traced.

Would you get off my desk, please?

Why?

Just remove yourself, Miss Fisher.

I'm quite comfortable, thank you.

Not fair, Jack.

I've just searched Mrs Burrows'
bag. No eels or spiders.

Thank goodness.

Here's the lovebirds!

We going to cop another
handful today, eh?

'Copper cops a handful'
- how does that sound?

Hey!

Listen here, you vulture.

If you ever come near
my fiancee again,

I'll have you locked up so fast,

you won't know what hit you,
and I'll throw away the key.

You got it?

That's telling him, Hugh!

Perhaps there's something I
missed in Belinda's things.

I really must get to the tennis.

~ Wait - what's this?
~ (Heavy rattling)

There's something in there.

Jack, there's a false bottom.

(Telephone rings)

City South Police.

Yes, Dr MacMillan?

Are you sure? Well, thank you
for rushing that through.

(Receiver clunks)

No sign of poison in Constance's
tea - another dead end.

Not necessarily.

A whole new avenue has
just opened up. Look!

If ever I was in any doubt
about their relationship...

They're numbered one to ten.

'11 - £50. 12 - £100.'

Those are the exact amounts
deposited into Belinda's account.

So, Belinda was paid to hand
over the last two photographs.

Which, judging from these, must
have been extremely compromising.

Especially for someone trying
to attract financial support

from a conservative, religious
tennis shoe company.

ANGELA: Alright, you got me.

I had to make sure my deal

with those God-fearing fellas
didn't bite the dust.

~ You killed Belinda to keep her quiet?
~ No!

I just paid the kid a lot
of dough for the photo.

~ I want to see it.
~ Sure you do.

If that tennis comp
was more exciting,

we wouldn't have had to
amuse ourselves that day.

~ Where's the other one?
~ What other one?

This is No.11. The 12th photo
is missing too - where is it?

I thought there was only this one.

Excuse me, Miss Fisher,
but we're about to start.

(Applause)

Miss Lombard to serve.

(Not behind your base line,
Constance. Move forward!)

I can't believe that man's
still walking around

after what he tried to do to you.

(Spectators gasp and applaud)

Why would Angela lie about
buying that 12th photo?

Unless she didn't buy it.

Someone paid Belinda £100 for it.
Terence couldn't afford that.

I'm not sure we can put it
down to modesty with Angela.

Every woman has her limits, Jack.

So, who else could have paid
Belinda for that 12th shot?

Maybe the clue lies in No.11.

(Spectators exclaim and applaud)

Game. Miss Lombard leads by one set.

Refreshments will now be
served on the south terrace.

Jack, is that Constance
in the background?

~ Yes.
~ What's she doing?

Having some kind of trouble
with her tennis dress?

Not her dress.

Of course - the champagne,
the sage tea,

her sudden disappearance
from the tennis circuit.

It all makes perfect sense.

Ladies and gentlemen, please
resume your seats...

Mrs Burrows, I suggest you forfeit
the match due to injury.

What? But I told Miss
Williams, it's only a cold.

But it's not a cold,
is it, Constance?

And you lied to us
about paying Belinda.

You paid her a great deal of money
and it wasn't for any favours.

We're giving you a choice - forfeit
now, or we'll arrest you

for the murder of Belinda Roswell
in front of everyone here.

Resume play, please, ladies.

Ladies, resume play.

It's your choice, Constance.

~ Mrs Burrows to serve.
~ Alright.

~ Arggh!
~ Oh, Mrs Burrows?

Connie, what is it?

Hey, what's the hold-up, honey?

Ladies and gentlemen,

I'm afraid to say that Mrs Constance
Burrows has injured her ankle

and has to forfeit the match.

Please join me in congratulating
our winner, Mrs Angela Lombard.

(Applause)

Phryne, you've made a mistake.

If anyone's responsible,
it had to be Lawson.

Why else would he plant that
spider to scare you off?

What's that on your arm, Stanley?

~ What?
~ Looks like a spider bite.

It was you who tried to scare
me off and frame Terence Lawson.

I was just trying to
protect Constance.

When did you realise
she killed Belinda?

I was jealous, so I was
searching through her things.

That's when I found the jar
she must have kept it in.

You never said a word. I
thought I could save you.

Constance Burrows,

as a special constable of
the Victorian Police Force,

I am arresting you for the
murder of Belinda Roswell.

What's going on here?

(Cheering and applause)

The photograph made me reflect on the
stain on the bodice of your dress

and the champagne you
supposedly spilled,

and the fever you've been
combatting with sage tea -

a remedy for threatening mastitis.

You've given birth, haven't you,
Constance? And quite recently too.

Birth?

Why would a woman who's obsessed
with tennis take time off the game,

or a newlywed arrange for her husband
to be seduced by another woman?

This baby, does that mean...

Yes, Terence, it was yours.

~ Where's the baby now?
~ Taken care of.

I paid for a good home. She's fine.

JACK: But Belinda had a photograph
of you with the baby,

didn't she, Mrs Burrows?

And she was using
it to blackmail you.

I paid her £100 for it.

She promised that would be the
end of it, but I got scared -

what if she had another copy?

What if everyone found out, and I
couldn't go to the US Championships?

I want to beat Angela
on her home turf!

So Belinda had to go.

You sabotaged her shoe so
she'd have to use yours.

TERENCE: So, you killed Belinda
because she knew about our baby,

and then you gave the baby
up without even telling me?!

How could I tell you?

You'd want me to keep it and
get married and settle down.

I didn't want any of that!

But we were in love!

I loved playing tennis with
you! You used to be good.

How could tennis matter this much?

Because tennis is everything!

It's the only thing that ever
mattered, the only thing I love,

and if I hadn't been so stupid
and wound up pregnant,

I could have been champion
of the world!

JACK: We'll need to speak
to you, Mr Burrows,

in regards to withholding information.

Forgive me, Phryne.

Love made a fool out of you, Stanley.

~ Jack.
~ Miss Lombard.

Is it true - Constance killed
that poor kid for her career?

I'm afraid so.

Oh, gee! I thought I played hard.

If you ever get tired of Miss Fisher
and wanna play ball with me,

I'll give you the best
game you've ever had.

I think we both know that's a
challenge I won't be accepting.

Goodbye, Miss Lombard.

(Jack laughs) Oh!

Oh!

(Phryne laughs)

♪ KING OLIVER: When You're Smiling

I aced you, Miss Fisher.

You just caught me off-guard.

~ You're actually quite good, you know.
~ Thank you.

I learned at the police academy.

Speaking of which, there's a certain
lack of attention to detail

in your arrest paperwork,

so I'm retiring you as
my special constable.

I see.

I suppose you'll be wanting
your badge back, then.

Well...

.. no.

No, I think you've earned the badge.

Game, set, and murder...
murder solved.

PHRYNE: A crazed fugitive is on the
loose and your life is in danger.

Not last-minute doubts in the faith?

No, no, no, Father. Police business.

I'm not sure I want to be married
by a man who punches scientists.

If this is the work of our escapee,

Mr Toad has something in
common with my father.

~ I'm your father, not a criminal!
~ Give me the letter!

PHRYNE: What is your area of study?

Measuring the spectra of light between
different celestial bodies.

More like a romantic overture.