(shower running)
(shouting and cheering)
Abbotsford!
Let's hear it for the lads!
(all cheer)
Hey, give us an autograph?
Get that into you, Vince.
What's happened to your captain?
Still off the booze?
Down, Scotty.
How are you, mate?
VINCE:
Coach. Where's our captain?
I left him to lock up the sheds.
Still mucking around
with health remedies
and 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.
(clinking on glass)
And the winner of the esteemed--
Call the bloody number, Bert.
Number 27.
Hang on. That's me.
- BERT: Go at it, Frank!
- (men cheer)
Told you I could get it.
Good on you, Coach.
VINCE: Last drinks, lads,
and no hoarding.
Righto, you lot.
This isn't funny.
Which one of you jokers
has pinched my lucky hat?
BERT: 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.
Any idea
who might have taken your hat?
Someone who plugs
for the opposition.
- West Melbourne.
- Come inside. 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.
Harry!
- Don't touch him.
- But it's Harry the Hangman!
The team captain!
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!
- He hanged with a West scarf!
There'll be no violence.
Anyone taking things into
their own hands will be charged.
- That means you, Pat O'Farrell.
- Yeah?
Do you barrack
for West Melbourne?
As a matter of fact,
Abbotsford is my team as well.
- And mine too.
- So if you'll go home
we can get on
with our investigation.
- Thank you, gentlemen.
- Where is he?
- Celia, don't go in there.
- Vince, tell me what happened!
Mrs Harper. Inspector Robinson.
It's best if you go home.
We'll come by
and speak with you privately.
Lads, take her home, would you?
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 in football.
- Is that what put you off?
- You know me better than that.
Why exactly are you here,
Miss Fisher?
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?
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.
Hey, Pat.
Here comes one of them.
West are only sour
because we won
the first clash of the season.
This is revenge, lads.
Heard the news.
Rubbing your hands, are you?
Just because I'm a West man.
You're a traitor to your suburb.
Yeah but I'm a good son
to my mum.
She was born
at West Melbourne so...
PHRYNE: Good morning!
Didn't realize 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.
- We wouldn't stoop that low.
Besides, we were in
our club house all night.
Oh, yeah.
You two do realize
I won't be taking sides.
Why would you?
You were born in Collingwood.
Gibbs.
- 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 West, right.
Then a couple of years ago
his daughter dies.
He doesn't miss a beat.
We almost won the flag
that year.
Not even close!
You said the hat was taken
from the club rooms.
How could a West Melbourne fan
infiltrate?
Yeah, good question, miss.
It 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.
Think it's our orange girl.
- Where can we find this tomboy?
- If I get my hands on her--
If Bert lays a finger on her
I'll drop the case.
West Melbourne. Fruit market.
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.
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.
JACK: 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.
They're not going anywhere.
We've got a game to play.
You might want to talk
to Harper's teammates as well.
Plenty of people closer to home,
not unlike your man here,
happy to have a go at Harper.
Now I'll say g'day, gentlemen.
HUGH: I wasn't having a go, sir.
We need to set aside
our allegiances, Collins.
This is a murder enquiry,
not a footy match.
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 the Harpers.
Celia must be shattered,
poor thing.
Oh, and if you happen to see our
favorite Deputy Commissioner,
no need to mention we were here.
Father couldn't take
any more antagonizing.
Cheerio.
So...
Deputy Commissioner Sanderson
is a West Melbourne fan, sir?
Rabid, Collins. Life member.
We'll have to tread carefully.
MAN: Jonathon apples,
one shilling sixpence a bushel.
Cabbages, cauliflowers.
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--
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 club rooms last night.
Especially anyone with a motive
to knock off Abbotsford's
caption.
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)
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 arch enemy, us.
Gibbs never let him
off his leash.
It speaks
of the man's character.
Why was Harper called
the Hangman?
For the amount of time
he could hang in the air.
Or the amount of heads
he almost took off.
He was out for himself.
That's what made him invincible!
I think you're wrong!
Sir. Sorry, sir.
Harper carried
a guilty conscience.
So he went soft when he went
up against his old teammates.
Not the first game
of the season.
Harper and Baines
had that punch-out on the field
then Harper ripped through
him through the 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 lots of
West Melbourne blokes.
Or Abbotsford blokes
getting back at Maclean.
He was always bluing
with his players.
Like Harry Harper.
He wasn't above a set-to
with his coach.
You can't speak ill of the dead.
Players and coaches argue
all the time.
PHRYNE: 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.
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 cap?
JACK: 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?
Is 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.
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 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.
- Why'd you do it?
- Get off me, you bastards!
Let him through!
(all shout)
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!
Bloody hell.
Stan Baines took it, you reckon.
Yeah, well,
that doesn't surprise me.
(sneezes)
- MACLEAN: 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?
- 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.
(sniffs)
Hugh - he's my beau -
explained it all to me.
- Abbotsford man, is he?
- Very much so.
Yeah, well, you've chosen well.
We'll have to shuffle
a few of the lads
but nothing will fill
the hole Harry's left.
Telephone, miss. The Inspector.
I'm off, anyway.
Come on, Scotty. Come on.
Thank you. For this.
And the tea.
And if you could tell
the Inspector,
any developments,
I'd appreciate a nod.
Of course.
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.
Ahem.
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 grateful.
Full marks. But it won't win me
any points with the Deputy.
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?
That doesn't make any sense.
No. We got the water
back up to full heat.
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?
No. 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 club rooms.
Having a drink with the lads
after training.
- From about six.
- Until when?
After ten.
After I gave up
looking for my bloody hat.
You are wasting your time.
Harry Harper was murdered
by West Melbourne.
And I will continue to interview
people from both clubs
until I've solved this case.
Joe Maclean was
at the club rooms 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 former wife.
Yes.
And her fiancé.
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.
Oh, it's Jack.
I thought it was Father.
It's that policeman's knock.
We've come
to speak with Mrs Harper.
Oh. And of course, Miss Fisher.
- Miss Anderson.
- 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 sure
there were things
that Harry didn't share with me.
I'm sorry. Excuse me.
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.
FLETCHER: Yes, it's for the team
as much as Celia.
Mm. We just hope
the newspapers will stay away.
Jack, we know you want to solve
this case. 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 Miss 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.
If you're looking
for a scarlet woman
I think you'll find
you'll be disappointed.
I 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.
ROSIE: You suspect Vincent
of harming Harry?
People usually kill
for love or money.
- Celia did ask my advice.
- About what?
Um... divorce.
But I don't think she had any
plans on going through with it.
Oh.
What's Baines doing here?
I've come to pay my respects.
Despite everything,
we were teammates.
This is for Harry.
Mrs Harper.
You have a bloody cheek
turning up here.
- You should not have come here.
- Get out of my way!
You've got no shame.
Go before we throw you out.
Celia! Celia!
What is it
you're accusing me of?
- I don't know what to think.
- I would have waited.
I would have suffered for you.
But everything's different now.
- This is my 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?
Bloody hypocrite.
Your lot killed Harry.
This is Abbotsford's turf, mate.
You don't know the half of it,
O'Farrell!
Come back and finish the fight,
Baines!
Come on, you coward!
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
problems to have time for me.
He never got over
making the move to Abbotsford.
PHRYNE: Wasn't it his decision?
CELIA:
He was only considering it.
And then Sidney Fletcher offered
him that job on the docks.
With a 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.
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 rumors.
Then you must know
Harper worked for Fletcher.
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 can't justify that.
Jack, at least if
you've got someone in custody
we can keep a lid
on this unrest.
Just till the morning.
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?
No, 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 closes)
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 favor 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?
- Nah, there's no point, sir.
Harper's gone and Vince's locked
up for sleeping 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.
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 was to fortify them.
They lost every game but
they gave it their best shot.
- Every game?
- Yes. That's the hardest thing.
Staying true to your team
when everything's going wrong.
Just like you and the Inspector.
Make it count, Collins.
(phone rings)
Ah, Dot. How's Hugh faring?
He still has some Abbotsford
spirit left in him yet, miss.
- (sneezes)
- Bless you. A cold starting?
No, I thought it was just that
coach's dog that set me off.
But maybe.
Dot, come here.
- Take a sniff.
- I may have--
Take a deep sniff.
Have you been petting him, miss?
- (sneezes)
- No. I was--
(phone rings)
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.
Is that you, Miss Fisher?
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 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.
A 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.
Oof. Two... nine... seven.
Number of games he played, sir?
- No, he played 298.
- 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 at 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.
- JACK: Thanks for coming.
We can talk outside.
Poppy Brown.
Hugh!
Yes, miss.
I have an inkling
where we can track down
this mystery friend
of Stan Baines'.
If I was gonna knock off
a West player
it'd be one of the young guns.
Not a bloke
who's 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 in a fight outside
around eleven
then at the 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?
(knocking)
Excuse me, do you mind if I ask
Mr Maclean a quick question?
Be my guest.
- Is your dog molting?
- 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.
She also had a terrible reaction
to my gloves
after I'd touched
the West Melbourne scarf
that was tied
around Harry Harper's neck.
Perhaps I'd just patted Scotty
and then I touched that scarf.
You didn't go near that scarf
after 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.
JACK: So you thought
you'd covered up a suicide.
PHRYNE:
Why should we believe you?
He left... He left a note.
Pinned to the coat rack.
JACK:
"I was a traitor to my team."
"This is all I deserve."
"I'm sorry for everything.
Harry."
MACLEAN:
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 burned 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?
Poppy Brown?
- You just missed her.
- Oh.
(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 kiddie.
And perhaps he thought
I was discreet.
I had to be at times.
Women would come to you
for all kinds of help.
If they were in trouble?
But it was too late by the time
they brought Myra to me.
She's already tried
to help herself.
With a knitting needle.
And she was losing the bub.
So what did you do?
I did what I could and I managed
to stop the bleeding
but I gave them instructions
to head for hospital
if anything started up again.
I heard next morning that
she'd been rushed to hospital.
I couldn't come forward.
I couldn't even go
to the poor lass's funeral.
July 29th.
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.
JACK: 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.
Oh, eventually.
Said Baines told him
to get shot of Myra
because she was in trouble.
Footy was what mattered.
Just the game. Nothing else.
JACK: 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.
JACK: You planned it
to look like a suicide.
What did you make of
your team's 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)
Come on!
- Come on, Abbotsford!
- Go, West!
- Abbotsford!
- Go, West!
(chanting continues)
Very 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.
- Rose.
- Ooh.
Just wanted to wish you luck.
I'm surprised the game
is still going ahead.
The club presidencies met
last night
to consider canceling
out of respect.
Father lost to Sidney.
Even my observational skills
tell me that
this does not bode well.
Excuse me.
Beaut. Yep.
Do you think Rosie knows
her fiancé 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 ten at the time.
So this should be interesting.
At least the last week
has leveled 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.
What do you think?
To humor an Abbotsford man.
♪ 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 laces ♪
♪ 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 ♪