Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

(gentle music) (door creaking) - You.

We need to talk.

I know what you've been doing.

I know everything.

The game is up.

(chilling music) (Frances grunts) (chilling music) (Frances breathing heavily) (chilling music) (Frances gasping) (chilling music) (pearls tapping) (chilling music) (chilling music) (upbeat music) (upbeat music continues) (upbeat music continues) (upbeat music continues) (upbeat music ends) (upbeat jazz music) - Paper!

Paper!

(upbeat jazz music) (upbeat jazz music) - What do you think?

- It's magnificent.

(upbeat jazz music) - [Violet] Ms. Fisher.

- Thank you.

I like this dress even better now.

- Ms. Williams.

- Thank you.

- Ah, Mademoiselle Fisher, I do apologize.

We've been trying to finish a ball gown for Lady Archdale.

(gasps) Magnifique!

- Perhaps if the slip underneath were a little more daring.

- Not at all.

The slip is placed perfectly beneath the fabric, and the balance is superb.

Ah, very sensible choice, my dear.

You can be married or buried in a quality suit.

Perfect.

- Excuse me, Ms. Williams, would you mind?

I'm having trouble with this last button.

- Of course.

There you go.

- Thank you.

- Wow.

- Fox, nothing like it.

And a very beautifully cut suit, Dot.

Very smart.

(Genevieve screaming) (suspenseful music) - It's Mrs. Wilde.

(suspenseful music) - Frances Wilde was a dear friend.

Not to mention one of our most loyal clients, and our main investor.

- Genevieve, would you please fetch some smelling salts for madame?

- Oh, of course.

- Sir, are you all right?

- I'm having trouble breathing.

- Aubrey?

- I should have checked on her.

She was only gone for five minutes.

- Mr. Wilde's in shock.

Here put your head forward.

- I take it you're a regular patron here.

- If I went anywhere else, Madame Fleuri would kill me.

Figuratively speaking.

- The fellow out there, is that the victim's son?

- Husband, Jack.

Caused quite a stir.

- Hmm.

A hairpin.

Clearly not premeditated.

- But convenient.

Not many victims come equipped with their own murder weapon.

And a single pearl.

(gentle music) Only one side bloodstained.

- Dropped after the murder.

- Look at the color, aubergine.

Probably highly valuable.

Treasure of an oyster.

- "He kissed, the last of many double kisses, this orient of pearl."

- Not even Mark Antony, would wanna kiss this one.

- No.

(paper rustling) (gentle music) Thank you.

No pearls on the victim.

- Nor anywhere else that I can see.

Poor Frances.

- Was there anyone else in the salon when the body was found?

- I checked the rear door, locked.

And anyone entering or leaving the salon would've been noticed.

- So assuming the time of death was after your arrival, whoever killed Mrs. Wilde may still be here.

(gentle music) - Thank you.

- Did you see anyone suspicious outside the salon?

(heels clacking) - The victim's bag was still on the sofa, sir.

- Thank you.

- Madame Fleuri, do you remember if Mrs. Wilde was wearing any jewelry when she arrived?

- Oh, she had on a salon gown when I sat her down to approve the forthcoming catalog.

Violet, lock that catalog away again for me, will you please?

(door squeaking) - I think Mrs. Wilde was wearing pearls.

- What color were they?

- I'm not certain, but I know they picked up on her frock.

I was pressing it for her while she looked through the catalog.

- Yes, they were a shade of purple.

- I'm afraid I'll have to ask everyone to remain in the building while we look over the premises thoroughly.

We'll also have to search the salon's staff, Collins, including Mr. Wilde.

- Search?

- Yes.

If you could please, start with Aubrey Wilde, Constable.

And if Ms. Fisher and Ms. Williams could assist us with the ladies.

- Gladly.

And you two could draw straws to see whose searches Dot and me.

- Oh.

Right.

Some lovely lingerie, but not a pearl in sight.

(heels clacking) - Excuse me, Constable.

(gentle music) - It's elegant with a twist, wouldn't you say?

- Hmm?

Sorry?

No, yeah, very, very nice.

- You don't think it's too sensible?

- Yes, no, I love the twisty parts.

That's a gorgeous shade of brown.

(heels clacking) - Thank you, Constable.

(Collins grunts) - You might need me, Collins.

- Sorry, sir.

(phone ringing) - [Phryne] Madame won't like being closed during business hours.

- But, Miss, I thought the inspector and Hugh wanted us at the station.

- They've got enough to keep them busy for now, Dot.

You must keep your gloves on.

(gentle music) Clearly Mrs. Wilde's glass.

Take a look around for Aubrey's.

(gentle music) (gentle music continues) (gentle music continues) Dot, come here for a moment.

(gentle music continues) Take a seat.

- Hope you're not going to take my photograph, Miss.

(camera clicks) No!

- Just testing.

(gentle music) - Mrs. Wilde and her husband were on the sofa in the lounge.

- I could tell you that, Inspector.

- But I'd sent Genevieve off to change outfits because my camera had jammed, so I'm afraid I was preoccupied.

- I'm the one who invited Frances to the salon this morning to approve the catalog.

- I do remember hearing Aubrey query whether some of the designs were too conservative.

- And what would Aubrey know about designs?

Frances was delighted with the entire catalog.

Madame.

- They were very surprised that your gloomy photographs replaced some of our glorious color illustrations.

- If you'd just like to wait outside, Madame.

- If Frances was so delighted, what were you two arguing about?

- That had nothing to do with the collection!

- Then perhaps it was about our dwindling clientele.

- That's highly inappropriate for you to discussing the state of our business in the midst of this tragedy.

- Wait, Madame.

Did you have an argument with Frances Wilde?

- It was a business discussion.

That's all.

(heels clacking) (gentle music) (metal clanking) (gentle music continues) - No lipstick.

Aubrey's champagne glass?

- Wonderful, can we please go now, Miss?

- Don't be a spoiled sport, Dot.

We haven't done the sewing room yet, and that's your forte.

We need to telephone Cec and Bert.

(gentle music) - I served the champagne, first to Mr. And Mrs. Wilde, and then to Ms. Fisher and Ms. Williams.

- Then what did you do?

- I had left the iron on to heat up, so I headed back to the sewing room to press Mrs. Wilde's frock for her.

The pleating wasn't sitting right.

- So, to your knowledge, Mr. Wilde remained in the lounge for the 10 minutes between serving him the champagne and when Genevieve screamed?

- Yes, that's right.

Well, he always accompanied Mrs. Wilde to the salon.

Though I'm not sure how much notice she took of his opinions.

(pearls rattling) - This must be Lady Archdale's ball gown.

No wonder it was holding everything up.

- Violet didn't get very far pressing Mrs. Wilde's frock.

Not that it matters now.

Looks like the pleats were the problem.

- Oh.

That's stone cold.

- So she never even heated it up.

- What do you mean?

- Well, it wouldn't cool down that fast, a heavy iron like that.

- So whatever Violet Hopkins was busy with during the murder, it wasn't Mrs. Wilde's frock.

(gentle music) Perhaps we should leave this bit out of our police statements, Dot.

- Miss.

(gentle music) - "To our prosperous future, GM."

Interesting timing.

And who is GM?

- Perhaps a satisfied customer.

- It's an odd thing to write to a couturier.

- Oi!

You need us for a job, Miss?

- Two jobs now, hold this.

- That's confidential!

- I'd like you to find out from the florist who ordered these flowers.

If anyone queries you, just say, "Madame Fleuri wants to thank the sender."

And I need these plates developed.

- No worries.

- That one's not bad.

- Oh, it's underwear.

- The term is lingerie, and it's the way to a woman's heart, once you've found your way to the rest of her that is.

- Don't you two have work to do?

(car humming) - Ms. Fisher's right, you know?

Even a single one of these is worth a thousand pounds.

- Mrs. Wilde was a wealthy lady.

- Whoever stole them is likely to know their worth.

It's probably the motive for murder.

- Surely if someone wanted to steal a string of pearls, they wouldn't need to murder someone with a hair clip to do it.

And this wasn't premeditated murder, this was spur of the moment.

- Aren't you becoming the detective?

- Did I say I wanted to be a detective?

- No.

(gentle music) Is something the matter, Dottie?

Is it the tea?

- No.

Well, yes, actually.

You didn't like my suit, or you were just too busy looking at Genevieve to pay me any attention.

- Ah, no, Dottie, I wasn't looking at her as much as I was looking at her suit.

Not her suit, her dress.

It had these little bits that sparkled on it when it hit the light.

- Really?

- Yes.

And these other bits that wafted when she moved, when it moved, when the dress moved.

That doesn't mean I didn't like your suit.

- What color was my blouse?

- Your blouse that- - I wore underneath my suit.

What color was it?

- Mm.

It was like a... - I think I'll wait for Ms. Fisher in the car.

- Dottie, I... (door squeaking) - Frances was demanding I dismiss Genevieve.

- Your house model.

- Genevieve Lamaire has French heritage, and has modeled for the best fashion houses in Paris.

She was head model for La Lune Boutique before she agreed to join us, and we are very fortunate to have her.

- Did Mrs. Wilde say why she wanted her dismissed?

- She claimed Genevieve had designs on her philandering husband, which is absolute nonsense.

- The inspector informs me that your argument became quite passionate.

- When I refused to dismiss Genevieve, Frances talked on about other concerns.

It was insulting.

I became angry.

And, yes, I slapped her.

- What kind of concerns?

- After pointing out her financial stake in the salon, she questioned the time and trouble we devote to our clients.

And then, she threatened to sack me from my own salon.

- Mr. Wilde?

She suspected he and I of having an affair?

- Have you any idea why, Ms. Lamaire?

- Probably because he was a blatant gold digger and completely untrustworthy.

But Mr. Wilde, he barely spoke to me, and everybody knows I have a boyfriend in Paris.

- Oh.

Did you have much to do with Mrs. Wilde?

- She was very generous when I first arrived in Melbourne, and I'm sure mostly because of my French connections.

- And more recently?

- She seemed more aloof, changed her mind about using me for a girl parade on Oaks Day last race season.

I can see why now.

- Did it upset you?

- (chuckles) Of course.

But I blamed her husband.

- Why do you say that?

- When I began at the salon, Mr. Wilde told Violet that he thought I was too old for modeling, which surprised me, considering he had no reservations about the age of his wife.

(gentle music) - Lady Archdale's ball gown.

If you don't allow Madame Fleuri to reopen, it may never be realized.

- Now that would be a crime, wouldn't it?

Aubrey Wilde's doctor seems to think his turn was only heart palpitations due to shock.

- Perhaps someone else at the salon was making his heart beat a little faster.

It's unlikely Frances imagined the whole thing.

- Well, and this affair is motive enough to do his wife in?

- If she found out and planned to divorce him from her fortune.

- What about Madame Fleuri's inclination towards Violet?

- She's not violent, she's French, half French.

Genevieve had reason to resent both the Wildes, and Violet lied about whatever she was up to in the sewing room.

- What about the sister?

- Renee is definitely hiding something.

The camera wasn't jammed at all, as far as I could see.

The cracked plate that she told you she removed was perfectly fine, apart from my own portrait of Dot.

- Oh yeah.

There's tension between the Fleuri sisters?

- They have spats all the time.

Simone believes in classical fashion, custom design.

Renee is on the side of progress, modern reproductions, pret-a-porter.

- Ready to carry?

- Close, ready to wear.

- Ah, my wartime French never made the distinction.

- Well, in the world of haute couture, it translates as certain death.

- But murdering Frances Wilde wouldn't make financial sense for either of the Fleuri sisters, would it?

- No.

But stealing her priceless pearl necklace would.

(gentle music) (gentle music continues) (gentle music continues) (gentle music continues) Stunning, isn't it?

- They'll see you coming.

That's what my mother always said when my sister wore anything too showy.

- Surely that's a good thing, if nothing else, to avoid a collision.

- Well, I wouldn't want to go completely unnoticed, but I wouldn't want to attract too much attention either.

- Doesn't that depend on whose attention you're attracting?

- I suppose so.

- Dot, a woman should dress, first and foremost, for her own pleasure.

Having grown up in secondhand flannels, there is nothing quite so divine as the feel of silk underwear.

(Dot laughs softly) The touch of soft fox.

The slither of a satin skirt.

If these things happen to appeal to men, well, that really is a side issue.

So tomorrow we're going to the House of Fleuri to order you a ravishing and utterly frivolous evening gown.

- Oh, no, Miss, I couldn't possibly- - It's not a gift, Dot, it's an order.

We need a pretext to return that catalog and do some further investigating, and I've decided you're it.

- So you remained in the salon lounge the whole time your wife was absent?

- Yes, where else would I go?

- Oh, your champagne glass ended up in a corridor, Mr. Wilde.

- Why don't you just tell me what you're angling at, Inspector?

- Madame Fleuri said your wife suspected you of having an affair with one of the staff.

- Well, that's not only insulting, that's preposterous.

You think I killed my wife because of that?

If I wanted to do that, Inspector, surely I could push her down some stairs or poison her.

Why would I risk murdering her in a salon powder room?

- Can you think of a reason why anyone else from the salon would wanna harm Mrs. Wilde?

Had she fallen out with anyone?

- No more than usual.

She was a strong-minded woman.

She had her opinions.

- [Collins] Ah, sir, a cancelled check in Mrs. Wilde's handbag.

- [Jack] Was the bank any help?

- Yes, they told me it was issued to a real estate agent in Fitzroy.

He wasn't very happy when the bank refused to honor it.

- What was it for?

- A deposit on an apartment?

Royal Asta Court sold to the Wildes one week ago.

(hammer pounding) - Well, I must say, I was surprised when the bank called and said they'd cancelled the check.

His wife, apparently.

She seemed quite taken with the place until then.

- Did you hear anything from Mr. Wilde about it?

- Not a peep.

- Did he say what the apartment was for?

- I assumed it was a first home for him and his wife.

They did insist on one on the street level though.

Lovely building, bay windows, tall ceilings.

- Mrs. Wilde, can you describe her for me?

- Very easy on the eye.

- Thank you Mr. Hargreaves.

But it would help if you were a little more specific.

(gentle music) - Good morning, Ms. Lamaire.

Ms. Williams would like another appointment.

- Of course.

I'm sure we can find somewhere.

(gentle music) - That is a lovely frock, Ms. Lamaire.

You're so lucky to wear such beautiful clothes, even if they're not yours.

- Yes, like being a walking dressmaker's dummy.

- No, no, all I meant was everything looks lovely on you.

Everything looks perfect.

- That's my job, it's all show.

Now if you'd like to come through, I'll check if Madame Fleuri can see you now.

(gentle music) (gentle music continues) - [Madame Fleuri] You're not happy with the suit?

- Oh, no, the suit is perfectly lovely.

- So what do you need?

Evening wear?

Perhaps something full length, more glamorous, you know, a satin or a silk?

- Oh, no, I don't go to things like that, and I wouldn't want anything extravagant.

- The fabric doesn't need to be expensive.

We could use art silk instead.

- Perhaps something for day wear.

Not too showy, just more- - More a la mode perhaps.

- Modern.

You mean a dress with gimmicks that wax and wane?

A woman must know her style.

Style is what endures.

And your style, Ms. Williams, is a suit.

(gentle music) (door creaks softly) (gentle dramatic music) - Only me.

- (sighs) Ms. Fisher, I'm sorry.

I must have fallen asleep.

- Is that why you hadn't ironed Frances Wilde's frock yesterday?

You told Inspector Robinson you'd heated the iron.

But I don't think that was true.

- I don't want Madame Fleuri to worry that I'm falling behind, but I've been working long hours.

It's been very busy lately.

- And yet, Renee Fleuri said business was dwindling.

- But just one frock can be so time consuming.

I've been trying to finish the beading on this ball gown.

- Yes, lovely work, very intricate.

(gentle music) And I suppose you have postal orders to fill.

- Oh, yes, I still have to make this afternoon's mail for Mrs. Norton's day dress.

(gentle music) Is there something I can do for you, Madam?

- Oh, no, just clearing up my confusion.

(gentle music) Don't take it personally, Dot.

You know what sisters can be like.

Add fashion to the mix and it's diabolical.

Now, I need Cec and Bert to follow Violet to the post office this afternoon.

She was behaving very suspiciously about a large parcel.

There was no one with the initials GM in the book, but I did find a pile of unpaid bills and a number of very lucrative clients with their names struck out.

So the salon is definitely losing business.

- Perhaps those clients had their reasons.

- And I would like to find out what they are.

Looking over this list, I'm afraid our best chance of finding out will involve a long afternoon at the Melba Cruise Salon of Beauty.

(gentle music) - It's an awful business.

Well, at least Frances won't have to worry about keeping up with that dashing young husband of hers.

- That is some consolation.

Did you see a lot of the Wildes, Mrs. Carlyon?

- Oh, not in the last six months.

I was denied an appointment one too many times.

I suspect it was my attitude to the younger Fleuri.

All her new ideas just seemed like excuses for skimping to me, so I took my business elsewhere.

- If you ask me, I'd say Renee was touting for financial support.

I'm not sure what she had in mind, but it made my daughter and I very uneasy.

- What was the last time you visited Madame Fleuri's salon, Mrs. Tippet?

- Oh, not since my lemon silk charmeuse dress.

In September, Madame Fleuri was abroad, so we couldn't get in.

(gasps) It was a terrible month for us of robbery, crack in the swimming pool.

Then Deidre and I both were left with nothing decent to wear to Ladies' Day.

- I was having Madame make me a gown to go with some jewelry my husband had given me our silver anniversary, then I lost the necklace.

Couldn't bring myself tell Rupert, such beautiful sapphires.

- So you cancelled the gown?

- Of course, but when I tried to make an appointment for an alternative outfit, they couldn't fit me in.

Me, Melba Cruise.

I'm one of their oldest customers.

So I haven't telephoned them since.

(birds chirping) - I was under the impression you called me here for a dress fitting for Ms. Williams.

- We thought it would be more discreet to have this discussion here.

- Just answer the question, Ms. Fleuri.

- Inspector, I am passionate about my designs, but I would not play mistress to a man like Aubrey in order to realize them.

- The inspector has evidence that Aubrey tried to buy an apartment with a woman of your exact description.

- House of Fleuri is meant to be a partnership, but Frances was loyal to my sister.

They were old friends.

Aubrey understood my ideas.

- [Jack] Go on.

- He was buying the apartment so I could set up my own pret-a-porter salon.

Aubrey and I planned to become business partners.

- Did you know Mrs. Wilde had cancelled Aubrey's check?

Did either of you confront her?

- No.

- In the 10 minutes leading up to Mrs. Wilde's death, are you certain you both remained in the lounge area?

- I told you.

I was preoccupied with my camera.

- There was nothing wrong with that camera, Renee.

(gentle music) - After Aubrey told me the apartment had fallen through, I became too upset to do anything much.

- And Mr. Wilde?

- I don't believe he killed his wife, but, yes, he left the lounge.

I don't know where he went.

(footsteps thumping) - I don't have time for this.

I have funeral arrangements to attend to.

- Right now, Mr. Wilde, you have some very serious questions to answer.

The fact that you deceived your wife about your business arrangements.

The fact that you're gonna spend significant amounts of her money.

- That was a joint check account!

I did nothing illegal!

- That your wife had just thwarted your plans.

- I tried to reason with her!

I was doing it for both of us!

- And that you had no witness as to where you were at the time of her death.

- All right!

All right, yes, all right.

I was in the sewing room when my wife was murdered, and I have a witness.

- Who?

- Fleuri's head seamstress, Violet Hopkins.

It was a mere dalliance, nothing more, which means I have an alibi.

- It also means you both have a motive for murder.

- Do you really think that I would kill my wife for a girl like Violet?

(gentle music) (heels clacking) (car humming) (brakes squealing) - Oh!

- What's wrong with you, mate?

- Sorry, Miss!

- Here, let me give you a hand.

- I didn't see you!

- Thank you.

- You okay?

- I think so.

- Your packages.

- Thank you.

- I didn't even see you.

- It's okay.

- I'm sorry.

- That's all right.

(gentle music) (car humming) - You were meant to follow Violet to the post office to see where she was sending it.

You weren't meant to steal the package.

- It fell into our laps.

- Well, it definitely fell somewhere.

It's completely smudged.

I can't make out a thing.

- Well, that wasn't our fault.

- Yeah, not completely.

- Hello.

- G'day, Miss.

Found out about those flowers for you.

Ordered by telegram.

- Well done.

- Yeah, the girl in the florist told us who it was here.

I wrote it down for you.

- Gary and Molly Nex.

- Maybe regulars at that saloon place.

- Salon, Bert.

I've met most of them, and Nex doesn't seem to ring a bell.

- And that parcel you wanted us to track.

- Oh.

You intercepted the mail.

Even better.

(utensils clanking) (scissors snipping) Wow, this doesn't look like Mrs. Norton's day dress to me.

- But it does look almost exactly like one of those evening dresses in that confidential catalog.

- If this is a G at the beginning, and that's an M, perhaps it's our mystery flower senders.

- I'll try it out and see if I can brush off some of that dirt.

- Meanwhile, I think we need a private word with Madame Fleuri.

- Yes.

- There are three of them, all the same.

- These are exact copies of our design, with modernizations in very poor taste.

But these dresses have not even been made yet.

How could this happen?

- Perhaps one of your staff?

- Never.

- You trust them all?

- Of course.

The designs are all under lock and key, and I keep the patterns at my home.

Oh, this is all a disaster.

And word is out, Lady Archdale has just cancelled the order for her ball gown, and others have already fallen away, and now this sabotage.

And none of this explains what happened to poor Frances.

- I am sure that we'll get to the bottom of it.

I'll inform the police first thing in the morning.

- Thank you.

- Your car is waiting, Madame.

- Madame Fleuri, do you know a Mr. and Mrs. Nex?

They sent some flowers to your salon.

- I've never heard of them, but at least somebody's happy with us.

(heels clacking) - There's no point upsetting Madame Fleuri before we know the full story.

- But how did the copied dresses tie in with Mrs. Wilde's murder?

- I'm not sure, Dot.

But Violet has obviously been moonlighting, so I think this calls for some nocturnal investigation.

(gentle music) (someone knocks) (door squeaking) - Your blouse was pink, Dottie, and I do pay attention to you.

- Sit down and I'll pour you some cocoa.

(door squeaks) - Ms. Fisher having an early night?

- [Dot] Must be.

(crickets chirping) (cocoa sloshing) - Thank you.

- So what's your favorite outfit then of mine, the one you like the most?

- I like everything you wear, Dottie, because you wear it.

- But just pick one.

- If I had to pick, the day we met, what you wore then.

- The day we met?

- That's my favorite.

- So I go to all that trouble, and you like me best in a maid's uniform?

- Yes.

No, no.

You're confusing me.

- Ms. Fisher's right about one thing.

Dressing to please a man is definitely beside the point.

(gentle music) (crickets chirping) (gentle suspenseful music) (floor thumps faintly) (floor thumping) (doorknob jiggling) (floor thumping) (metal tool striking floor) (lock clicking) (suspenseful music) (lock clicking continues) (suspenseful music) (Phryne gasps) (suspenseful music continues) (suspenseful music continues) (suspenseful music continues) (suspenseful music continues) (suspenseful music continues) (suspenseful music continues) (suspenseful music continues) (chilling music) (suspenseful music) (door latch clicks) (suspenseful music) (suspenseful music) (footsteps thumping) (door closes) (footsteps thumping) (suspenseful music) (doorknob jiggling) (suspenseful music) (window sliding) (suspenseful music) (tires squealing) (suspenseful music) (car humming) - Is that who I think it is?

- Afraid so, sir.

- (gasping) Evening.

Whoever it was, was extremely agile, remarkably efficient, lethal, and almost a match for me.

- Almost.

- They didn't stop me.

- Well, you're still guilty of breaking into the salon and the theft of one bolt of peacock and floral print cotton worth 100 pounds.

- Oh, I'm happy to pay for the fabric.

Luckily, it's my style.

Poor Violet.

She obviously knew whoever was with her, but she didn't see it coming.

Neither did Frances Wilde.

Our killer is no amateur.

- How do you know it's the same killer?

- Because they knew exactly where to come back to to retrieve Frances Wilde's missing pearls, buried in a bowl of potpourri in the sewing room.

Except they missed one.

(gentle music) - The head wound from the iron wasn't lethal.

The coroner's report says the victim was smothered to death.

- In a bowl of beads.

- So these dresses that mysteriously turned up at your back door, do you think Violet was manufacturing them?

- It's not called manufacturing, Jack.

Violet was a dressmaker.

But, yes.

And it looks as if she was getting paid generously for her work, judging by these additional amounts on top of her wages.

Madame Fleuri will be devastated.

- Unless Madame Fleuri caught her in the act.

- From what I heard last night, Violet had a partner in crime.

- Who?

- The dresses weren't exact copies.

They had certain refinements of style, which suggest a more modern approach.

- What's going on?

Why do you need to question Renee again?

- It's all right, Madame.

The police just need to go over some details.

- Simone will find out, so she may as well know.

- Know what?

- I was seeking Aubrey's help to establish my own salon.

- You would set up in competition with the House of Fleuri?

With your own sister?

- What choice did I have?

You never let me have my way with my designs.

There is one of my designs in our entire new catalog.

- Well, there is reason for that.

- Yes, and it's you!

I want to make beautiful garments for women who can't afford couture.

Aubrey understood, but Frances was always going to favor you.

- Miss, don't, please.

Violet is gone, how can you argue like this?

- I'll do whatever I can to help find out what happened to Violet.

I'll get my things.

If you could find my hat please, Genevieve?

Jack, look at the floor, under the camera.

Rosebuds.

(heels clacking) (gentle music) - Don't touch that, Ms. Fisher!

You'll expose the plate.

(pearls pattering onto floor) (dramatic music) - Frances's pearls!

Is my business the only thing I should be worried about?

Or do you have blood on your hands?

- If you need to ask, then you are clearly not my sister!

(dramatic music) Where did you get those?

- The parcel was waylaid and ended up being delivered to the police.

It had the initials GM written on it, like the mysterious congratulatory flowers that were delivered to your salon.

Initials, that the florist told us, indicated Gary and Molly Nex, until you put that together with Rue de la Paix.

Here, you can just make it out if you brush off some of the grime.

I'm sure you know the street.

- One of the most fashionable streets in Paris.

- And home to the new grand department stores, including Gallery Molyneux.

- Those dresses are our second sample range.

Seems Gallery Molyneux were very happy with the first, and about to place a full order.

Simone has no interest in pret-a-porter, so it was the only way to finance a new salon.

- So did Violet Hopkins threaten to tell your sister?

- No.

No, you can't think that I'd hurt Violet.

- I've laundered and dried these as much as I can, Miss.

Well, at least enough to go back into police custody.

- Thank you, Dot.

If Frances Wilde knew nothing about the dresses Violet was making, had she found out?

- Is that really worth killing someone for?

- That depends, Dot, on how valuable the dresses are.

(gentle suspenseful music) - They're so sparkly.

- They certainly are, Dot.

You'd almost think they were real sapphires.

(gentle music) Melba Cruise said she lost a sapphire necklace, didn't she?

And Mrs. Tippet had a terrible month because of a robbery, I wonder what was stolen.

- People usually steal jewelry.

- I think we might have a closer look at Salon Fleuri's disgruntled clients.

- Ms. Fisher was right.

Mrs. Carlyon was robbed as well.

All six clients in the salon were robbed over the last six months.

- Whoever our jewel thief is, looks like they have a professional pedigree.

- Yes, sir.

And in the six months previous to the Melbourne robberies, there was a string of similar crimes on the North Shore in Sydney.

- None of them with obvious sign of break in, all highly valuable and distinctive pieces, none of them are turned up in pawn brokers or on the black market.

- Interesting victims.

Gordon Walsh, the Standishes.

- Someone called Lady Granger.

- Annabelle Granger is one of the most elegantly dressed women in Sydney.

Whoever we're looking for targets the fashionable end of town.

- And has outsmarted at least half a dozen police investigations.

- Well, it's time they met their match.

- Is that you or me?

- I know nothing gets past you, Jack, but I'm the one who holds the bait.

Have I ever shown you my Colombian emeralds?

- The new lining is just enough to pick up on the green of the necklace.

- Mm.

What do you think, Aubrey?

I know Frances always trusted your taste.

- Yes, it's fine.

I'm sorry, I'm still not quite myself.

There's a lot to sort out with Frances' affairs.

- I'm sure.

But I do hope you'll stay on as investor.

I know both the Fleuri sisters would be most grateful, and I'm sure it's what Frances would've wanted.

- Yes, you're right.

And your necklace looks divine.

- Thank you.

We're all off to Daylesford for the weekend to take the waters.

Special treat for Dot and Mr. Butler.

But I won't be needing the emeralds, so the coat can wait until my return.

(crickets chirping) - [Jack] So where did you send Dot and Mr. Butler?

- [Phryne] Daylesford, of course.

I always lie as little as possible.

- It's after midnight.

How much longer do you wanna stay here?

- Why?

Aren't you enjoying yourself?

Try some of Dot's cottage pie.

- Do you have a fork?

- You'll have to use your fingers.

(phone ringing) - What if it's Collins?

- It won't be.

(phone ringing) It's them checking to see no one's home.

(gentle suspenseful music) (phone ringing) (gentle suspenseful music) (phone ringing) (gentle suspenseful music) - So what else do you have in there?

- I should have put you on rations.

(window sliding) Visitors.

(gentle suspenseful music) - [Jack] I'm going after them.

- [Phryne] I'll take the back stairs.

(gentle suspenseful music) (gentle suspenseful music continues) (jewelry clicking) (gentle suspenseful music) (suspenseful music) (dramatic music) (Phryne and thief grunting) (Phryne and robber grunting) (bodies thumping) (door crashes) - Police!

(Phryne breathing heavily) (gentle dramatic music) - Your robberies were so coolly planned, finding jobs in all the best salons so you could lay your eyes on the client's jewels without anyone suspecting.

- [Jack] All you needed was a way to smuggle such distinctive jewelry out of the country.

- [Phryne] How did you persuade Violet to help you?

Did you threaten to tell Madame that she was moonlighting for Renee, but, in the end, you couldn't trust her to keep quiet about what happened to Frances?

What kind of greed leads to the killing of two innocent women?

What about Frances Wilde?

Why did you kill her?

- You think I'd kill someone over a strand of pearls?

(gentle dramatic music) She said she knew everything.

(gentle dramatic music) - [Frances] You.

The game is up.

(Frances grunts) (chilling music) (Frances gasping) (chilling music) (chilling music) - But she wasn't accusing you of theft, was she?

She thought you were having an affair with her husband.

- As if I'd throw myself at that fool.

- Mr. Lamaire, you're under arrest.

Genevieve, real name Smith, was an expert burglar.

She cased La Lune Boutique in Sydney just like she cased Salon Fleuri.

- She had all the jewels intercepted at a port in Paris by another paid lackey.

The so-called boyfriend.

- Not even French ancestry.

So this is the end.

We will close down the salon.

- You can't do that, Madame Fleuri.

You have clients who rely on you.

You have your sister.

- Who's sneaking and scheming behind my back!

- Because you won't budge.

Not even an inch.

- Most of our clients would know more buy a garment off a rack than jump off a cliff!

It would spell the end of haute couture and good taste.

- Madame Fleuri, I hope you consider me a woman of taste?

- Of course, Ms. Fisher.

- Then I have a confession to make.

I like to wear well-cut trousers.

What's more, I have been known to buy clothing in department stores.

- Well.

- But I will always love the glamour and attention of Salon Fleuri.

If you give your sister her head, she'll have no reason to set up another salon.

- How can we possibly continue?

Even if Aubrey deigns to help us, my head seamstress is gone, I have dozens of unfinished garments, I have lost my most distinguished clients, and my house model is headed for the noose.

- Well, I'm sure we can solve all those problems.

(gentle upbeat music) - [Madame Fleuri] Thank you so much for coming.

(gentle upbeat music) (gentle upbeat music continues) - Wearing the first piece in our forthcoming pret-a-porter range, an affordable evening gown for the modern young woman, Ms. Dorothy Williams.

(attendees clapping) - What do you think, Collins?

- Pretty as a picture, sir.

Just between you and me though, please, sir.

I've decided it's safer to keep my opinion to myself this time.

(attendees clapping) - How gloriously modern.

- Oh yes, at House de Fleuri, we aim to be a tres modern.

- And next, in a classically elegant, couture-designed gown, Ms. Phryne Fisher.

(attendees clapping) (attendees awing) (attendees clapping) (gentle upbeat music) (gentle upbeat music) (someone knocks) (shoes clacking softly) (crickets chirping) - The police photographer is finished with your necklace.

- Didn't suit this outfit.

- I'll never again dismiss the fashion world as frivolous.

It all looks harmless enough, but you never know what lurks beneath.

- Usually lingerie.

- Equally dangerous.

- And just one dress can be lethal.

(gentle music) Nightcap?

- Perhaps another time, at a less dangerous hour, in a less lethal dress.

(gentle music) (upbeat jazz music) When you start to play modernistic Don't forget to do futuristic Just to keep it up realistic 'Cause it's the one and the only rhythm If you wanna be modernistic Why you gotta be optimistic Then you're sure to be characteristic Modernistic, that's all Skaga-laga-lag, gag-alactac Spoka-loka-lo, boom-baloom-boom Skeeka-leeka-lee, gee-kalee-kee 'Cause it's the one and the only rhythm Spoka-loka-lo, dum-ba-lu-dum Spooka-looba-loo, boo-bulooboo And you're sure to be characteristic Modernistic, that's all (upbeat jazz music) Modernistic That's all (gentle music) (no audio) (logo whooshing) (no audio)