(carnival music)
(screams)
Were you even
wearing your helmet?
This one lad caught me
by surprise, that's all.
Don't they have
anything better to do
than pick fights
and start trouble?
Not really, Dottie, no.
Ow! That's why we started
the gymnasium.
To keep the gangs
off the streets.
It doesn't seem to be working.
- Good morning.
- Morning, miss.
Another hard night
with your wayward boys, Hugh?
The Woolpackers and Portsiders
were scuffling again last night.
Are you still on secondment
to the Terrible Ten?
Uh... no. Not since that mishap
a week ago.
Mishap?! A policeman was stabbed
in a gang melee.
And Constable Fry
died of his injuries last night.
These gangs killed a policeman
and you have them
in your gymnasium?
Fronting each other in a boxing
ring has to be an improvement.
You encourage them to fight?
- Miss.
- Oh!
Pugilism properly taught
can be a noble art, Dot.
The Inspector has telephoned,
Constable.
He requires you
on the St Kilda foreshore.
A murder, apparently.
Back on duty, sir.
Good. Do you recognize him?
Kevin Bradley.
He runs the Woolpackers gang.
Only me. I gave Hugh a lift.
He shouldn't be traveling
on the tram with a head injury.
Is that flour?
Looks like he was stabbed
during the brawl last night.
You were there, Collins.
Any theories?
None of them had any knives
as far as I could see.
These gangs have
got it in for each other.
If this lad was top dog
of the Woolpackers...
I didn't see Kevin Bradley there
at all, sir.
So what do you think took place,
Collins?
There's a lot of anger,
in the force, I mean,
about Constable Fry
getting stabbed.
Kevin Bradley's the obvious
ringleader to target.
Are you suggesting
police retaliation?
Would it hurt to ask the special
unit a few questions?
You are not to pursue
that line of investigation.
Yes, sir.
Now go down to the gymnasium
and take some statements
from the lads.
Yes, sir.
This poor boy
has seen a few fights.
Perhaps we should
talk with his boss.
Never seen the lad before.
It's likely he attended
your boxing tent last night,
Mr Biggs.
Well, so do a lot of people.
Big Arthur's Boxing Troupe
puts on a bloody good show.
The fighters
take on challengers.
This lad had
a reputation as a brawler.
You should be looking
at the gang, shouldn't you.
- Tell them, lovey.
- It's true.
They've been at each other
since that big blue last week.
- And you are...?
- This is Mrs Big Arthur.
More the hired help
than the little lady.
Twice those ratbags
pulled down our clothes line.
Dragged all your smalls
through the mud, didn't they.
So you maintain the first time
you saw the deceased
was when your boxer
Giorgios the Greek
found him this morning.
That's right.
Nothing more to say.
Giorgios won't be
much help to you.
It's like Big Arthur said.
Your dead bloke's
never fought in here.
You want to know anything,
Officer,
don't ask him.
Nothing like the smell
of fresh laundry.
Eucalyptus. Kills the germs.
I was just looking
for the ticket office.
You're out of luck.
The tent opens at five
if the cops let us.
Due to what happened
to that poor boy, I assume.
Don't waste your sympathy
on him, missus.
- You knew him?
- I knew his kind.
While those gangs
have been bashing and brawling,
decent folks stay away.
And yet here I am.
You know,
I wouldn't be surprised
if it was the cops
that did it.
- Really?
- Yeah.
One of their own gets done
a week ago.
It stands to reason
they want revenge.
Too little too late
if you ask me.
There you are.
Why on earth
aren't you investigating
the Terrible Tenners
over this gang death?
I assume you mean
the Police Special Powers Unit.
Well, I don't mean
the police choir.
That boy took a blade
straight through a vital organ.
Efficient, unambiguous,
on the same night Constable Fry
succumbed to his injuries.
Surely the second death
was tit-for-tat for the first.
One dead police officer
leads to one dead Woolpacker.
You're forgetting
one dead Portsider.
The same night
Constable Fry was stabbed,
an aboriginal boy was left
on the steps
of the Alfred Hospital.
Beaten to death.
No name, no details.
- He was a Portsider?
- No aboriginal Woolpackers.
And he was covered
in the same flour
the rest of the Portsiders
copped that night.
Tit for tat. Gang warfare.
In any case, accusing
my fellow police officers
will be the last place I go.
So you need to be careful.
But I don't.
What's the address
of this gymnasium?
One. One-one.
One-two. One-two duck.
Good job. Eyes up.
Real boxing is an art form, Dot.
It was part of the Olympics
in Ancient Greece.
The Olympics?
Yes, with rules and poetry
and excitement.
Long before everyone
wore a weapon.
Or clothes.
Constable Collins!
Miss Fisher! Dot!
What are you...
The Inspector sent me
to see how your statements were
and Dot was most curious
about your gymnasium.
Sorry, Miss Fisher, but I don't
think that you should be here.
Phryne Fisher. Dot and I were
just admiring your... technique.
Weren't we, Dot?
And you are...?
Tom. Tom Derrimut.
And are you
a Portsider or a Woolpacker?
It was you, wasn't it.
You went and finished him off!
You're dead, Derrimut!
- I didn't do it!
- Hey! That's enough!
- Freckles, you know the rules!
- What did you do after? Huh?
You went and knifed him,
you mongrel!
- Hey! That's enough!
- You want some too?
- I'll give you a matching pair.
- I'll ban you.
I'm guessing Portsider,
Woolpacker.
Murderer. He had a go
at Kevin last night.
Knocked him down
and promised him more.
You said you were out of it.
Tom. Tom!
He came at me and I gave him
one punch, that's all.
Liar.
- Dust.
- Flour.
I'm a baker's apprentice.
Mate, if you saw him last night,
I've got to take you in.
I didn't do anything.
Then you've got nothing
to worry about.
You lock him up
and chuck away the key.
Or we're coming after you.
Don't you dare
threaten Hugh Collins.
He's worth ten of you.
It don't matter
what a copper's worth
when he's up against
the Woolpackers.
- Does it, lads?
- (murmurs of assent)
I don't know what came over me.
Hugh doesn't need me
defending him.
Nonsense. Beside every good man
is a good woman.
And she must always be ready
to step in front.
So, running battles
going on for weeks,
and last night another brawl
on the foreshore
between the Woolpackers
and your mob, the Portsiders.
- They're not my mob.
- JACK: Since when?
Constable Collins,
was this young man
running with the Portsiders
during the brawl last week?
The one where
Constable Fry was stabbed.
- Well?
- You know I was.
But I got out of the Portsiders
that night.
It's too much trouble. I just
want to work and earn money.
So why would Kevin Bradley come
after you if you were out of it?
I don't know.
He's not right in the head.
- So why did he come after you?
- Look, I don't know!
I was on the beach, he came up,
he started pushing me around,
so I lashed out.
Just one punch, then I turned
my back and I walked away.
Like you taught me to.
Who were you with?
On the beach.
- Names, Derrimut, names.
- Come on, Tom.
They're not in trouble. They
just need to back up your story.
You know, you should be
looking at your own.
Not me.
That Tenner died last night,
next thing Bradley's dead too.
TOM: Can I go now?
Perhaps it's got
nothing to do with the gangs.
Kevin Bradley was stabbed
so let's find that knife.
And don't let your friendship
get in the way of
solving a crime, Collins.
Why didn't you tell me
a policeman was stabbed
that night?
It's my duty, Dottie.
I don't want you to worry.
I'm stronger than you think,
Hugh Collins.
I've been taken hostage
by Latvians,
woken by armed intruders,
almost fed into
a giant factory machine
and nearly every day of my life
I'm trapped inside a speeding
motor car with Miss Fisher.
My whole job is a worry.
You don't know the full story.
Then tell me.
The Woolpacker boys
were heckling the Salvos,
and it all
would have blown over,
but the Portsiders turned up.
Tom was trying
to stop the fight.
But he got dragged into it.
Constable Fry could be tough
but he didn't deserve to die.
He chased one of them
down an alleyway and...
never came back out.
Fry had four little ones,
Dottie.
It's more kids without a dad.
How awful.
Because of your dad,
you know how that feels.
I've just got to do my job, Dot.
It's dirty fighting
that kills people.
(screams)
I can't bear the sound
of those screams, miss.
But it's a great scenic railway!
They're screams of joy!
DOT: I'd faint
before I got any joy.
Why don't I look for clues
at the crime scene
while you talk with the hawkers.
I'll meet you back here.
Ahem. Excuse me, sir.
Would you mind if I asked you a
few questions about last night?
Mr.... Ice Cream Man.
9pm is...
BIG ARTHUR: All I want you
to do is keep an eye on him.
Is that too much to ask?
CORA: What are you saying?
BIG ARTHUR: I'm saying
you've got to make sure
he keeps his bloody mouth shut!
CORA: He's not stupid!
He said nothing!
If he does
he's not welcome back here.
And you can kiss
your extra earnings goodbye.
And if you don't have him back
I'll be the one talking to the
cops about what goes on here.
(screams)
It is not like a lady
to listen
to others' conversations.
And I see that you are a lady.
I was... looking for you,
of course.
Giorgios the Greek.
I have something for you.
Here. Take this.
Come tomorrow night.
You will see more... of me.
Much more, I hope.
(laughs) Jack!
Uh...
Look on the top right-hand
corner of the green tent.
Do you or any of your fighters
own this?
Last time I saw one of those
it was stuck in my best mate
in the trenches.
So no.
Big Arthur has given you the nod
for another month.
Another month?!
Why do I have to keep fighting
now that Bradley's dead?
The Delahunty boy.
He's taken over from where
Bradley left off.
He wants paying now or he's
going to tell them about Dan.
He saw it.
He knows Dan did nothing.
Ah, Dot. Any leads?
Never mind. We have a murder
weapon. That's a good start.
That lady looks like
she could use a friendly ear.
You said this was about my son.
What about him?
Dot and I are friends
with Hugh Collins.
The police constable
who's been teaching Tom to box.
Oh. Tom. Yeah.
Constable Collins
is concerned about your son
in relation to the death
of Kevin Bradley.
- My boy--
- I'm sure the police
will eventually get to
the bottom of Bradley's death.
The cops don't like our kind.
They'll find
whatever they want to find.
But I will not see my son go to
jail for something he didn't do.
Tom seems like a good lad.
He is.
Like his father.
A fine Boon Wurrung man.
Tom's all I have left now.
The war?
His lungs gave out from the gas.
I married again. A whitefella.
And then welfare came
and took my younger son.
Said he'd be better off.
Look, I know Tom's done
his fair share of strife.
But he's out of that now.
But is there something else?
Something you're not telling me?
Does Tom need money
for any reason?
Everyone needs money.
But please keep out of this.
This is between me and my son.
And Big Arthur.
Good day.
Keep your eyes up.
You promised me
you'd stay away from the gangs
but you were fighting again.
Just last night with Bradley.
I was fending him off, OK?
He's a bully boy.
He makes no sense.
Why don't you believe me?
I thought you were my mate.
- (rings bell)
- End of round, gentlemen.
If there's something
you're not telling me...
...or you're afraid...
PHRYNE: We can help you, Tom.
Freckles Delahunty.
What about him?
There was a fight going on
over who runs the Woolpackers.
Between Bradley and Freckles.
He's taken over the gang now.
Perhaps you should tell Hugh
why you've been boxing
at Big Arthur's tent.
- Who told you that?
- Your mother.
She implied you were doing it
for the money.
Big Arthur's?! Mate,
that's no place for an amateur!
It's my business, alright?
You're not my old man.
DOT: Those boys may not have a
father, Hugh, but they have you.
What um... What happened
to your dad, Hugh?
You said it was an accident?
We uh...
We caught the tram into town
to have my dad's boots mended
at the cobblers
near Flinders Street.
I know the place.
When we were
walking past the pub
we saw these two diggers
having a go at each other.
This massive bloke
was hammering this little fella.
And so my dad stepped in.
Just to break it up.
But he...
He got pummeled instead.
He fell back and he...
cracked his head on the gutter.
Then the police came running
and um...
they took me away.
Without my dad.
There he is, Dottie.
He looks lovely.
Just like you.
PHRYNE:
Are Bradley's clothes in here?
Freckles Delahunty.
I assume that's not
what his mother calls him.
It seems he was vying to become
top dog in the Woolpackers.
How did you manage
to get inside gossip
from one of St Kilda's
most notorious street gangs?
Tom Derrimut told Hugh
at the gymnasium.
Also, this Freckles person
works in a bakery.
That explains
where they get all the flour.
Your mystery boy, the one
who was dumped at the hospital.
- He was covered in flour too.
- Yes, that's right.
It's looking more and more
like the Portsiders
avenged this boy's death
by killing Kevin Bradley.
- Do you recognize him?
- Yes.
But I can't remember where from.
Ow!
A pin.
I'll have it
arrested immediately.
Look at this.
Pound notes. He's been robbed.
Take a brave thief
to rob Kevin Bradley.
Or a very stupid one.
Is that confirmation
on the murder weapon?
The coroner's certain
this is the blade
that killed Kevin Bradley.
PHRYNE:
No-one's son deserves that.
Let's see what
Mr Freckles says about it.
JACK: Nothing better than
an afternoon by the seaside.
Except for a thrilling ride
on the scenic railway.
- Dot refuses to come with me.
- I don't blame her.
Don't tell me you're scared too.
- Is that a challenge?
- If it makes it more enticing.
Hey, missus. That's my spot.
Freckles Delahunty.
Inspector Jack Robinson.
I think it's time we had a chat.
This weapon made the wound
in your mate's chest.
- So? It wasn't me.
- No? You want to be top dog.
- Doesn't mean I killed him.
- Where were you last night?
- After the brawl.
- I went home to my mum.
- Kept my dinner warm. Ask her.
- I will.
Excuse me for saying so, but
you don't seem very bereaved.
If Kevin was your friend,
don't you want to know
who murdered him?
I know who it was.
Tom Derrimut. The mongrel.
We hear that Kevin Bradley
is a bit of a tricky character.
- What do you mean?
- Short-tempered. Unpredictable.
You just had to know
how to handle him.
Can I go?
Yes, Mr Delahunty.
You're free to go now.
Our victim intimidated
friends and enemies alike.
If Kevin Bradley
is that irrational,
maybe somebody had to defend
themselves against him.
I think we should have Mac
take a look at his body.
Given up on the living, has she?
See you first thing.
Hm. Definite deterioration
of the brain.
What did you say
his background was?
Kevin Bradley?
Gang leader, fighter, thug.
And boxer, I'd say.
These kind of injuries
are caused
by repeated blows
to the head.
Boxer rather than
street fighter?
More likely it happened
in the ring.
And these type of injuries
to the brain
do not happen overnight.
So Big Arthur lied
when he said he didn't know him.
So shall I just put this brain
back where I found it?
JACK: Tom Derrimut.
What can you tell me about him?
And in case
the answer's, "Not much,"
we know he's been fighting here.
BIG ARTHUR: Yeah, a couple
of times as a challenger.
- But anyone can do that.
- Did he fight Kevin Bradley?
Who?
Give over playing the fool,
Arthur. He knows.
He boxed here a few times but
only as challenger. Same as Tom.
BIG ARTHUR:
Never against each other.
I never have challengers
fight each other.
It's always got to be
one of them versus my troupe.
I've spoken to your troupe and
have statements from them all
except, what do you call him,
the Black Belter?
Where's he?
Wish I knew. He just took off.
Left me in the lurch.
- Local lad?
- No, no, no.
We picked him up near Heathcote.
- What's his real name?
- Jimmy.
Didn't have a surname.
Maybe you never bothered
to learn it.
If he turns up again,
I want to know.
Rightio.
Can you tell me
how to track him down?
It's like Arthur said.
He's gone walkabout.
Let's assume that there's
something underhand going on
in Big Arthur's boxing tent.
Apart from honest betting.
What would it be?
Flat gloves,
bare knuckle fights,
taking dives, long odds,
ring-ins and house stacking,
I imagine.
I boxed during my youth
in the AIF.
Thank you, Mr Butler.
- Which leads back to one thing.
- BOTH: Betting.
Kevin Bradley had money
pinned to his jacket.
- Proceeds, perhaps?
- Must have had a windfall.
This should see you through
an evening
of discreet investigation.
Unfortunately I'm already known
to the boxing troupe
but I'm sure you two can mingle
without attracting
too much attention.
- We'll do our best.
- It is not profit I'm after.
It's information.
Care to go along, Mr Butler?
Perhaps a flutter?
Oh, thank you, miss, but no.
It's all Greek to me.
And I have silverware to polish.
- Two pounds on the Greek?
- Solid as the Coliseum.
Good afternoon,
ladies and gentlemen!
Welcome, welcome, one and all!
Here you are at the world famous
Big Arthur Biggs' Boxing Troupe!
Don't be shy. Move forward.
Don't be scared.
Are you all after
a little bit of action?
This afternoon, if you'd like
to partake inside,
you will see
the magnificent Black Belter -
oh, yes,
we call him the Black Belter -
take our challenger
Helter Skelter.
Who should I put my money on,
Bert?
The only winners here
are the touts and Big Arthur.
As we suspected.
They put their Black Belter
up against the toughest
challenger they can find.
Everyone thinks
the kid will lose
so the punters
bet against him.
And Big Arthur pays
the challenger to take a dive.
Interesting.
Especially as Tom Derrimut
doesn't look anything like
the advertised Black Belter.
Dot, sing out
if you see anyone follow me.
...Biggs' Boxing Troupe. We have
got a show and a half for you.
Come in and see
what we do in our big tent.
Ooh, it's full of dust!
It's full of roughness!
It's full of pain!
Ladies and gentlemen, I'll
tell you something right now,
when we get
the Black Belter in the ring,
against one of you people,
who will be a fine challenger,
we're all
going to have some fun.
We're all going to have a roar.
You feel like having a good
time, ladies and gentlemen?
CORA: You're bleeding me dry!
FRECKLES: Not my problem.
- CORA: I've got nothing.
- FRECKLES: I need my money.
I need my money.
I'm in charge of the gang now.
It's all we've got.
Too bad. You know the price.
That arrangement
was with your dead mate Bradley.
It still stands.
I'll make it up to you
next fight. I promise.
Yeah, you better.
Or else I talk.
About Dan.
Not only is there
illegal betting going on,
the boxing matches are fixed.
Challengers make more money
if they take a dive.
And Dot spotted
something suspicious too. Dot?
Well...
Yesterday a boy jostled me
near the rotunda
and then scavenged
some small change
after I'd interviewed
the Ice Cream Man.
Very bad manners.
Then today,
whilst I was waiting,
I saw him again
near the boxing tents,
up to no good.
And?
Oh, and worse than that
this time.
- I saw him lurking.
- Really?
I saw him try to empty his
pockets for one of the boxers.
- The boxer was Tom Derrimut.
- But he wasn't having it.
Which is strange, as Cora
suggested Tom needed money.
- Do you have a description?
- Yes, of course.
I did take special note.
And I asked around
about your dead Portsider.
The boy who was dumped
at the hospital.
According to my colleague
it was an odd one.
Someone had tried
to cover up his injuries.
Clearly
he was battered to death.
The powder on his face
couldn't hide that.
That's not powder, that's flour.
The Portsiders had flour bombs
hurled at them
by the Woolpackers.
But it's not flour.
It's washing soda,
according to my colleague.
- Are you sure?
- She said it seemed odd too.
Said it smelled of eucalyptus.
Like Mrs Big Arthur's
laundry powder.
Now I know where
I've seen this face before.
MRS BIG ARTHUR: You had no right
to paint over my Jimmy!
Put the hammer down, lovey,
and I'll explain.
(all shout)
I need him healthy enough
to talk with me.
- Keep her away from me.
- Come with me for questioning.
- About what?
- Want to deal with her or me?
- This is not over yet!
- Calm down, lovey!
He had no right!
They make a lovely couple,
don't they?
She is like a siren.
Beautiful but dangerous.
Like you.
I'm only dangerous
in the wrong hands.
You coming, Miss Fisher?
Now, a young man died
in the hospital,
not because he was a Portsider
but because
he was one of your boxers.
He was beaten half to death
in the ring, wasn't he.
What's she doing here?
I'm a friend of Cora Derrimut's.
Look, I don't know nothing about
no abo kid dying in hospital.
I don't think anybody mentioned
his being aboriginal.
Now the truth.
Or I'll charge you with
obstructing an investigation.
Oh.
Jimmy got hurt in the ring.
Bad.
So you tried
to make it look like
he was mixed up with the gangs.
By decorating him
with your wife's washing soda.
I knew they'd look after him.
I didn't think
he'd go ahead and die.
How did Tom come to replace him?
He'd fought as a challenger.
He did alright.
He came back and I asked him
about fighting regular.
He jumped at the chance.
Said he needed the money.
Who beat this boy up? Jimmy.
Who was his challenger?
It was Kevin Bradley, wasn't it.
I thought he was ready
to go it with a big gun.
So I took a challenge
from someone who was bigger.
Yes, I'm sure the crowd loves a
mismatch. Stirs up the betting.
If blokes want to have
a little bet between themselves,
that's their business.
This Bradley bugger, you know,
he was a lot bigger than Jimmy.
Jimmy got him with a right,
knocked him down. He went crazy.
If I'd have known
he was a bloody lunatic--
So Kevin Bradley killed
one of your fighters.
He wouldn't exactly be
your favorite person, would he?
HUGH: So we've got Bradley,
who killed
the original Black Belter,
inside Biggs' tent.
- You have a very neat hand.
- Thank you, miss.
Perhaps you could give
the Inspector some lessons.
Here we are.
I thought you weren't going down
the dead policeman track.
I wasn't, but I went through
Constable Fry's autopsy file
and I found this.
Lacerations consistent with
a distinctive serrated blade.
And consistent with
Kevin Bradley's lacerations.
- Same murder weapon?
- It has to be.
And presumably
the same murderer.
Look at this. Do you have
your magnifying glass?
Is this an Australian bayonet?
No, German,
most likely souvenired
by an Australian soldier
and brought back home.
It's rough
but it looks like an animal.
Is it a rat?
A mouse?
It has a curled tail.
It's a possum.
That's not very German.
Cora's husband went to war.
Will.
William. Wilfred.
- Did he come back?
- He did but he'd been gassed.
He died of lung damage.
Cora's first husband.
- Do you have Tom's file?
- Mm.
Thomas James Derrimut.
Mother Cora, father...
- Wallet.
- Wallet. That's unusual.
Or just a misspelling of Walter.
Or perhaps it's Aboriginal.
I bet you a ride
on the great scenic railway
that Wallet means possum.
Possum Derrimut.
Tom's spoken about him.
Bring Tom in. And his mother.
Yes, sir.
Sir, Tom Derrimut's here.
And Mrs Derrimut.
Tom, stop! Let me pass!
He had a bicycle, sir.
But I know where he's going.
- Take the car then.
- Yes, sir.
Announcing next,
who'll be the one to swelter
with the Black Belter?
Who will brave the ring
and make all the ladies sing?
We are looking for
a likely challenger,
a young fella to don the gloves.
Yeah. My mate will.
We have a challenger,
ladies and gentlemen!
Fight begins in ten minutes!
Why did you run?
Now my boss thinks you did it.
Does it matter
if I did or I didn't?
You've made up your minds
anyway.
The bayonet. Was it your dad's?
- Hey! I went in to bat for you!
- I didn't ask you to!
I've got to take you in, Tom.
To the station.
- After the fight.
- No, now.
No! I have to do this!
Just let me have this one fight
and then I'll do
whatever you want.
Alright but I'm sticking close.
Delahunty's mate.
He's big and vicious.
But he's slow. He's a brawler.
So keep on your feet.
Keep moving.
In and out. In and out.
There's a lot of flab there.
- You're giving me fight advice?
- That's what trainers do.
Don't they?
TOM: Thanks. But I think
I can handle brawlers.
HUGH: Betting on yourself now?
It's the only way out.
Go all in on one last fight.
Fair and square.
There's no such thing
as fair and square in there.
That great hulk will kill you
if you give him the chance.
See this money?
I made it all in the ring.
That's how I know I can do it.
I can beat him.
When this is done,
I'll walk away.
I promise.
There's our escapee.
BIG ARTHUR:
The boy from the bush!
The brilliant Black Belter!
The challenger!
The Woolpackers!
He's going to kill him!
And I put up my own wager.
Forty quid, winner takes all.
I'll have some of that.
After a short intermission!
Are you mad? It'll be like Jimmy
all over again.
You want to sleep
outside my van like a dog
for the rest of your life?
No, my lovey!
That's why I painted
over the banner!
To spare your feelings!
You won't have to look
at Jimmy's face every day.
Look, I'm sick
about what happened!
Don't risk it happening again!
He'll kill him!
I'm with her. That challenger
is twice Tom's size and more.
Out of here.
This is a private area.
No! She sees it! We all do!
The lad will get slaughtered!
It can't always be
about the money!
Look, I'll sort it, OK?
I'll sort it. I'll find a way.
Alright? Trust me.
Come on.
Are you enjoying yourself?
We will have a drink after.
Lovely.
Call on me later.
Look, one punch,
hit the sawdust, all over.
OK? I'll cover
your 40 quid for you.
No. I can hold my own with him.
I've knocked down blokes as big.
No, you haven't. They took
a fall because I told them to.
- They got paid!
- What are you waiting for?
I'll cover your money, OK?
Just take a fall.
I'll settle this
on my own terms.
(cheering)
(bell)
Ladies and gentlemen!
For a purse of 40 pounds...
The Woolpacker bloke
is gloved up,
but Freckles has slipped him
a fist full of fishing weights.
The young bloke's
gonna get smashed.
Hey, hey, hey!
There'll be enough of that!
Miss Fisher! Dottie.
You shouldn't watch this.
We have to stop it, Hugh.
Freckles doctored the gloves.
That's it! That's it, mate!
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
- Call it off now or I will.
- I can't!
It only takes one telephone call
to raid you. Call it off!
That's it!
We're stopping this one!
The kid's not well.
All your bets will be refunded.
- Come here!
- Hold your horses, everyone.
You'll get your fight.
We'll work something out.
- Hey, hey, hey!
- Alright, alright, listen!
If everyone's happy, I'll finish
the fight for the lad.
Hugh!
Dot, Hugh knows boxing.
Give me some flat gloves.
And tell him to ditch
the lead weights.
This will be good.
Now watch his right.
And he's a head-butter.
Tell me this wasn't your idea.
PHRYNE: This is Hugh's fight.
You're dead, copper. Dead.
Come here. Come here.
(cheering and applause)
- Come on.
- No, you can't have it!
Come on, lovey.
Tom's in no danger now.
I can make a motza
betting against the copper.
No! This money's mine.
It's for Jimmy's headstone
and you're not having it!
Knock his block off, Hugh!
Bravo, Hugh!
Get up!
Ladies and gentlemen,
we have a winner!
Forty pounds! Forty pounds!
Here.
Well done.
Time to come to the station.
And when you've recovered,
perhaps you could arrest
Freckles for extortion.
It'd be my pleasure, sir.
Oi. Let's go.
- No! Don't take him!
- Dan! Dan!
- Let go.
- No!
I want to confess! I've been
trying to make it right!
I think it's time we heard
Dan's version of events.
The bond of brothers.
Dan always wanted to be
just like Tom.
When the welfare
came and took him
he said he'd be back.
He ran away from the welfare.
And I couldn't send him
back to school, could I?
I knew that
they'd take him back.
He started running around
with the Portsiders
because Tom did.
And that brawl...
He couldn't tell the cops
what happened.
You can see that, can't you?
What did you have over
Tom Derrimut?
It was over his brother.
Come back here!
You!
Right! I got you, you little...
FRECKLES: I saw how it happened.
The copper fell.
Then Kevin arrived.
I told Kevin
it was an accident.
What he saw was that kid
stabbing a copper in the back.
And his brother
would pay good money
if he wanted us to forget it.
(sighs)
And he kept asking for more.
And I knew
it was never going to end.
The price just went up.
But you weren't the only one
who wanted Kevin Bradley dead.
Were you?
One murder solved.
And I think I can help you
with another.
Kevin Bradley's jacket.
- Was this from...
- Not quite.
A mother needs
to protect her child.
But only another mother knows
how far she would go.
(sobbing)
Come on. Buck up, lovey.
It's getting too hot here.
Best we go before the coppers
do something about the betting.
It's a little too late for that.
Art restoration, Mrs Big Arthur.
It's not going to
bring him back.
No.
Is that what made you so angry
at your husband?
Jimmy was more than
part of the troupe, you know.
He was my boy.
We found him out the back of
beyond. You know, good fighter.
But he had no-one.
So you took him in.
Arthur only saw the boy's talent
but I was... like his mum.
That's what he said.
Me. Barren as the Nullarbor.
Like somebody's mum.
He loved me.
And now he's dead.
Kevin Bradley went mad,
that's all, love.
Jimmy's death
was a terrible accident.
Is that why you killed
Kevin Bradley?
No.
No, no, no, she's not herself.
She doesn't know what
she's yabbering on about. Lovey?
You should have heard him.
The price just went up.
Your Tom thinks he can
chuck his weight around?
He belted me one, all because of
his half-caste little brother.
So unless you want his brother
dead or sent back...
This is never going to end,
is it?
- It's up to me, isn't it.
- Not any more.
Cos if no-one's around
to tell the tale...
Dan's safe!
He'll go back to welfare.
Go! Run! Your sons need you!
I took the money
to pay for Jimmy's grave.
I was gonna move the body
but the pubs were out.
And do you know...
that night I slept like a baby.
First time since Jimmy died.
I've got no regrets.
And then you must
take hold of the arms...
yes...
and then the knee
to the throat...
Ooh. But do not choke.
Yes. How perfect.
You see how good this pose is
for overcoming.
Now hold number 15.
Now perhaps for
a more relaxed pose.
No! No.
Never from below the waist.
Or disqualification.
- You lose.
- I'm very gracious in defeat.
I show you the art of the mind
with the body.
Why don't you show me here?
On the bed?
First you much watch.
Then you learn.
Hold number 16.
(knocking)
BUTLER: Pardon, miss.
If you're feeling up to it,
the Inspector is downstairs.
Yes! Tell him
I'll be down immediately.
Miss Fisher. I owe you a ride
on the great scenic railway.
- So Wallet means...
- Possum.
You win.
How can I resist
a man who pays his debts?
I wouldn't bother with the hat.
♪ I ain't got nobody and
I don't want nobody but you ♪