Hearts and Flowers The Doctor Blake Mysteries

Ladies and gentlemen,

every year I look forward to this festival with great excitement.

It brims with the kind of enthusiasm that only Bendigo can muster.

Ballarat.

My apologies. Ballarat.

In all my travels from Perth to Penrith,

no town has offered a more embracing welcome than yours.

Ballarat has been the home of the Begonia Festival

these past seven years.

It is my hope, my fervent hope, that it will continue to be so.

Hear, hear.

Chairman Griffith, honourable guests, esteemed festival judges,

it is my pleasure to declare the Ballarat Begonia Festival

officially open.

Ormond, you hypocrite!

Whisper in each other's ears, hands in each other's pockets.

-I know what's going on!

-Mr Manos, really.

One word and I'll sue, Manos.

Griffith, why don't you just pay me off the way you paid him off?

Every year it gets worse!

You leave my dad alone!

You'll get yours! Especially you, Ormond.

It's the last time you'll be judge.

This is why no member of the Manos family will ever amount to anything.

Let's be on our way, Oliver.

Thanks, Danny.

Come on, Dad.

Well, fancy that.

Who would have known people took begonias so seriously?

Angela? Anthony! A bit of help here. Professor Ormond!

It's all right. It's all right.

Thank you for your help, Professor Ormond(!)

I feel much better now.

It was all just attention-seeking behaviour.

I do apologise.

I'm taking her to Melbourne.

Well, that's a four-hour round trip.

She needs her transfusions. You saw her.

-You two aren't arguing, are you?

-No, no, no.

We're both just worried about you.

Thank you, Doctor. We'll see you tomorrow.

-Drive safely.

-Thank you.

I'll take you down to the clinic.

How long do you think she's got?

At this rate, a couple of months at the most.

She was doing so well.

KNOCK ON DOOR

-Lucien.

-Mmm.

-Was I shouting again?

-No. It's a phone call.

-It's half past five.

-I was up.

-It's Anthony Farmer on the phone.

-Oh. Is Angela all right?

The clinic wants to know what's in that tonic

that you prescribed for Angela.

Glycerine, ascorbic acid, hawthorn extract and honey. Honey.

Look, just tell them it's an all-purpose immune system booster,

and I'm sorry, I should have added it to her medication list.

-How is she, Anthony?

-Is everything all right?

Good. Well, send our best, won't you?

-All right.

-I'm sorry. I didn't hear the phone.

No, no, Mattie woke me.

-What's she doing up?

-She was awake, apparently.

The good news is Angela's feeling much better.

Oh, that's all that matters.

Not if Anthony can't accept that fact that she's dying.

That was fast.

Parks only just got back from the phone box.

-Who is it?

-The professor.

I didn't know a woman smoked.

Thank you, Danny.

Oh, professor.

-Danny?

-Yeah.

-What can you smell?

-Uh...

No, no, come closer. Come right over.

-It's sweet.

-Like pears?

Yeah.

Flesh burnt at low temperature gives off a scent of pears.

-An accelerant was involved.

-What, kero?

Yes, very likely.

Hot, but not too hot.

That's why it's used by circus performers,

you know, and fire-eaters.

Look - he's still wearing his begonia.

Always appreciated the little touches.

So maybe the heating caught fire,

he came running out to check, and...bang.

Possibly.

No sign of forced entry.

Parks.

-Fairly modest bloke.

-You're not wrong.

Professor Ormond made it into the West Australian.

-Sir.

-That rules out robbery.

First time one of these heaters has killed someone.

What's a heater doing in a glasshouse anyway?

To keep the flowers warm, obviously.

Oh, that's a lot of trouble for a flower.

Blake, that's evidence.

Yes, I was just testing it.

You reckon he saw the fire and then he ran outside?

-Yes, quite likely.

-With only one shoe?

One shoe outside...

..and one shoe inside.

Gus has the flu. I'm going to need an assistant for the autopsy.

Help him out, will you, Parks?

-What, me?

-Mm.

I didn't have breakfast.

-Danny, all right to keep going?

-Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Good. Deep breath. Let's look in the mouth.

-Good.

-Oh, doesn't stuff like this get you down, Doc?

Well, for their sake, Danny, we have to find a way to get through it.

Come here. Tell me about those teeth.

-What do you see?

-Not sure.

-Colour?

-Normal.

Would you expect that if they've been taking in mouthfuls of smoke?

Well, no. They'd be kind of black, wouldn't they?

Yes.

-Oh, inside his mouth's pink.

-Yes.

You'd expect some staining, wouldn't you?

Come take a look at the windpipe with me.

Come on. Again, he's been breathing in fumes and soot.

-So they'd be stained too.

-Ah. Well, let's see.

-Now, how does that look?

-Weird, but clean.

Which means?

He wasn't breathing when the fire was started.

Yes. Ormond was murdered.

Jesus, that's all we need.

-I'm sure it wasn't what Ormond needed.

-Don't be a smart-arse, Blake.

This isn't gonna do any of us any favours.

I've spent enormous amounts bringing this festival to Ballarat -

Bendigo wants to pinch it.

Now the bloke that ran it's gone and died on us.

We need to keep this whole murder theory quiet,

at least until the festival's over.

We don't need to go and publicise the fact,

but once we start digging, people will start to talk.

Who's still on the judging panel?

Charlie Griffith, Angela Waterston,

though she's currently indisposed, and me.

Are you absolutely certain it was murder?

-Suppose I wanted to choke you...

-Or vice versa.

Please, allow me to demonstrate.

I'd put my hands here, and I'd squeeze as hard as I could.

Now, you feel that? That's the hyoid bone. It protects the throat.

You put enough pressure on that, it will snap.

That's a pretty reliable indicator that someone's been strangled.

-Get your hands of me.

-Blake!

Professor Ormond's hyoid bone was snapped.

Ormond was strangled.

Parks, Hobart, it's time we had a word with Nick Manos.

Mr Manos, would you mind escorting us

down to the police station, please?

No bloody way, and not with you.

Mr Manos, we want you to accompany us to the station so that we can...

I warned you months ago,

if I caught you sniffing around here with my daughter,

I'd get my shotgun.

Right, Mr Manos, you're coming with us.

-Dad?

-Get back inside, love.

Danny, what are you doing?

You're a dog, Parks. I'm not letting you anywhere near my girl.

We're trying to ask him some questions.

They wanna drag me down to the station.

What's this about?

He's made a complaint, hasn't he? It got too much for him.

Mr Manos, Professor Ormond's dead, all right?

So w-w-why are you talking to me?

Oh, Jesus, you don't think I had anything to do with it?

Danny, can I talk to you?

Please?

-You don't really think he did it?

-The boss wants to talk to him.

-When did it happen?

-Some time last night.

-Dad was home the whole time.

-What's he saying to you, love?

It's fine, Dad.

He wouldn't do something like this. He couldn't. Honestly.

Is there anything you can do?

Yes. Yes, of course I'll take the call.

Mr Kim? I haven't heard from you for a while.

Someone saw them? When was that?

Two years ago. Are you sure?

So there's a chance they're still alive? Yes.

I will fly over immediately if you need me.

I'll drop everything. You just let me know.

Thank you...thank you, Mr Kim.

No way. You've gotta be kidding.

No, I mean it. She's really coming onto me.

She takes me off to the side, she taking my hand,

you know, she's giving me the eye...

Danny, she's just using you to help her father.

Right. So, what, it's got nothing to do with attraction?

-What?

-Nothing.

You just...you need to be careful.

Right, so not only do you think I'm not attractive,

you think I'm naive.

Well, you said it.

Do you know anything about the begonia?

Not a damn thing, but since I'm on the judging panel...

Some people take them very seriously.

So I've gathered.

What can you tell me about these things?

Well, it's quite hard to define the classic begonia.

-They don't like heat or frost.

-They must love Ballarat.

And they take quite a lot of looking after.

Honestly, why would you bother?

-Well, people love them.

-Enough to kill someone?

I don't know anything about it.

According to witnesses, you made some threats against the professor.

Who told you that? Charlie Griffith?

It's always Charlie Griffith with you, isn't it?

What happened between those two?

-Apparently a land deal went bad.

-When was that?

-1870.

-Bloody hell.

The Griffiths have been rich and the Manos' angry ever since.

Well, I guess that makes for a sound motivation for Nick Manos

to want to kill Griffith, but why kill the professor?

Seven times he's won, bloody Charlie Griffith.

King of the festival - buying the most expensive flowers with all that money he's got.

And you thought you'd level the playing field, right?

Look, I didn't mind giving Ormond a scare, but I didn't kill him.

You mean what happened was an accident?

-I wasn't there. I wouldn't know.

-We know you threatened him.

Because he and Griffith are crooks. I didn't kill him.

-And you expect us to believe that?

-You've got nothing.

-Where were you last night, Nick?

-At home.

Can anyone vouch for that?

Every year, Nick Manos thinks the judging is biased against him.

-And is it?

-Charlie Griffith is on the judging committee.

He and the professor were quite a formidable team.

Perhaps Mr Manos just snapped.

And strangled Ormond and set his body on fire.

Mail for you.

Oh. Thank you.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Better get that.

Poor Professor Ormond. And you say it was the heater?

So it seems.

How awful.

Thank you.

Darling...

-He's got such a sweet tooth.

-Yes.

Now, tell me, what did the clinic say?

We've moved the wedding forward.

Ooh! Will your family be coming, Anthony?

Probably not. Perth is such a long way away.

It's OK. It's a long trip.

-No, if they can't be bothered travelling...

-Sweetheart...

Actually, we've been a little dishonest.

We came here today with an agenda.

Dad is no longer with us and Anthony's family isn't coming.

I've known you and your father my whole life.

Would you walk me down the aisle?

Of course, there will be dancing,

and as the stand-in father,

you'll be expected to dance the second waltz with me.

But of course.

I'd love to.

So, Angela, you bring that dress of yours over here

and we'll see what we can do about it.

You, you're an angel with the sewing needle.

It's good to see Angela looking so much stronger today.

-Isn't it? She's a wonder.

-Not going to last, I'm afraid.

The transfusion was a great success.

Well, the transfusions might help for a while, Anthony,

but aplastic anaemia is fatal, and as I've told you before,

ultimately, there's nothing we can do.

I'm kind of pinning my hopes on this new treatment.

Yes, and so is Angela.

-Yeah, and that's a good thing.

-Not if your hopes are unfounded.

-Can I be frank, Lucien?

-Of course.

Well, you told us two months ago

that Angela wouldn't go downhill for some time.

I was wrong.

Couldn't you be wrong about the transfusions?

Yes, the transfusions might help.

I... I just didn't expect things to progress quite so rapidly.

I'm trying my best to help her, Lucien,

but sometimes it feels like we're the only ones that are trying.

Go on, you'd better get a move on.

-Boss.

-I'm not very impressed with you.

What?

Nick Manos is threatening to come after you and shoot you.

His daughter reckons he was home all last night.

-Can anyone else verify that?

-I checked with the neighbours.

People saw him through the night and early in the morning.

That'd be right. This'll be one charge Manos isn't guilty of.

Well, do you want me to have a look around

and see if I can find out anything more?

Well, we'll have to release him soon if we don't charge him.

Maybe leave him in the cell for a bit while I ask around?

You're learning, son.

-Oi, Parks?

-Sir.

You'll still be taking the bike.

SNIGGERING

I, uh, had a word with the boss,

told him that your dad was here the whole night.

That's right, isn't it?

Dad parks his ute outside my bedroom window.

-I would have heard him.

-Yeah.

-Is he all right?

-Yeah, he's OK.

He's threatening to use his bloody shotgun on me.

He seems to think I've been hanging around for months.

You know Dad - always paranoid.

Yeah.

-Has there been anyone else?

-Not since you.

Isn't that Oliver Griffith?

Leave this to me.

Oliver Griffith? What are you doing here, mate?

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

-What are you doing here?

-Yeah, I heard you.

I'm minding my own business. What are you doing?

Mate, you're on private property, so drive your dad's pretty car around,

drive back out on that main road and don't ever come back here.

And that goes for your dad as well.

Well, that's all sorted.

-I paid the rates today.

-You're not hungry?

Those other bills, they can wait.

-I'll have if you're not.

-Is that all you think about?

-Not quite.

-You're revolting.

-I didn't say anything.

-Just eat your dinner.

-I'm tired of talking to you.

-Wow. That got a reaction.

-Just shut up, would you?

-Do you two mind?

I'm not the one who shouted. I'm just eating my dinner.

-KNOCK ON DOOR

-Oh, I'll get it.

I know you're in there, you dog! Bloody open up!

The dulcet tones of Mr Nick Manos, if I'm not mistaken.

-Um, I'll sort this out.

-I'm coming with you.

-Parks! Get out here now!

-I'm ringing the boss right now.

You make yourself scarce.

Mr Manos, it's Doctor Blake.

Now, I'm going to open the door,

we can have a nice calm chat about this, all right?

Ooh!

-Kill ya, Parks!

-Get out of here.

No, no, no, no, no. I wanna talk to him.

I told you to stay away,

but you were around there this afternoon with her

while I was being accused of murder at the police station.

I've got your wallet!

I was following up questions.

Go on. Go. I'd rather you went back to the kitchen as well.

-Now, Mr Manos?

-What?

If you have to shoot anyone, shoot me.

All right? Now, I'm going to open the door.

I take it you didn't make an appointment.

-That young copper, out here now.

-Not likely, Mr Manos!

-Jean. This is about your daughter, isn't it?

-Damn right.

What's going on?

Mr Manos, perhaps it's time to just lower the gun.

Where'd she go? Did she call the police?

-If she is, I'll...

-Thank you, Jean.

Mr Manos, the gun.

Single malt, top shelf.

That young copper of yours broke my girl's heart.

You tell him to leave her alone or I'll shoot holes in him.

You really think coming around here with a shotgun

is the best way to work this thing out?

Yeah, well, it got your attention.

Please, Mr Manos.

Like some whisky?

-Mmm. Here, here's his wallet.

-Thank you.

It's just hard by yourself, you know?

-Especially with a daughter.

-Yes, I can imagine.

Maria's got a real chance, you know,

to be Miss Begonia this year.

Dads always are very proud of their daughters.

She's the best girl.

It's about time the others started to realise that too.

Proud of yourself?

Why don't you write a letter to Mark?

-Maybe he'll be interested.

-Shh!

You attacked Professor Ormond yesterday.

You said a few things that any reasonable person

would describe as threatening.

Yeah, well, I've got a bit of a temper.

How much of a temper, Mr Manos?

Too much.

You're carrying yourself with some upper-body stiffness.

So?

Injuries sustained while murdering the professor, perhaps?

Just a thought.

You're an odd fella.

Not many people would say that to a bloke with a gun.

You haven't answered me.

I was working on an old generator.

Had faulty wiring and started a fire.

I didn't get out in time.

Copped third-degree burns all the way up my shoulder

and down my arm.

-Goodness, yes. That's an old burn.

-Yeah, I was 15.

You should make an appointment with my receptionist, Nick.

There are things we can do to help with that scar tissue.

Does that mean you don't reckon I killed the bloke?

I think it's very unlikely

someone who suffered third-degree burns when they were 15

would torch the body of a man they just murdered.

-Eurgh...

-That's what I'm talking about.

You know, I keep telling that superintendent,

it's gotta be Charlie Griffith.

You know, he and Ormond used to be thick as thieves

until they fell out.

-And why did they fall out?

-Well, Griffith is rich as hell.

Who knows what he thinks. He owns half of Bendigo now.

-You mean Ballarat.

-Bendigo.

They reckon that's where the festival's gonna go.

He's got mates on the council and everything.

He's gonna make even more money.

-Ah, good morning.

-Morning.

I couldn't sleep either. Fancy a tea?

No, thanks.

Mattie, do you still have that friend who works at the Land Titles Office?

I wanna make some inquiries about properties in Bendigo,

you know, find out who owns what and what things are worth.

-Of course.

-Good.

So what's keeping you awake, Mattie?

Mark wrote to me.

He's engaged to a mutual friend of ours.

-Ahh.

-He's done nothing wrong.

-I can't blame him.

-Elizabeth's lovely.

-Well, I am sorry.

-I'm really on the shelf now, aren't I?

Nonsense! You've got your whole life ahead of you.

I'm just disappointed in myself, that's all.

-No.

-I'll get my friend to give you a call.

Mr Griffith, you must be concerned about the publicity.

I know what the papers are saying.

I say we just carry on.

Do you think we'll lose the festival?

Journalists - just ignore them.

Ah, good foliage, strong colour.

Poor root structure, though.

I didn't realise the flower business was so important.

It's a prestige thing for the council.

And there's no money in it?

No kickbacks for businesses or landowners?

The professor made a good living.

Just out of interest, what was the council paying him?

About a pound a week, I believe,

plus an appearance fee of a couple of shillings per day.

Princely.

Ah, look at that little chap.

Isn't he a beauty? I bet he wouldn't mind if he ended up in Bendigo.

-You're in a mood, Lucien.

-Oh, I blame the flowers.

-Are you all right?

-Uh, yes. I'm fine.

See, I do listen to you.

-And is it helping?

-Not sure. You go on ahead.

How are you finding your judging duties?

Oh, begonias have become my new passion. I can't get enough of them.

-Lovely, aren't they?

-Yes, they are.

And who would have known Bendigo could be home to such fragile things.

-You mean Ballarat.

-Yes!

Easy to get the two towns mixed up,

especially if you own property in both.

Is there something you want to say to me, Doctor?

You have close ties with the Bendigo council, don't you?

And you own half the city's properties on the Calder Highway.

That's commercial in confidence.

How much would you make if Bendigo Council

succeeded in taking over the festival,

particularly now that Professor Ormond

is conveniently out of the way?

How much did you offer him to take the festival to Bendigo?

Did he turn you down flat?

I'd stop making wild accusations if I were you, Doctor.

-Is that a threat?

-That's advice.

I've got Charlie Griffith inside

making an official complaint about you.

What did you say to him?

We were having a chat about begonias.

And I might have somehow insinuated that he killed the professor.

Why?

Nick Manos told me Griffith owns half the civic real estate in Bendigo.

He's got friends on council...

Well, don't believe everything Nick Manos says.

But this time, Manos was right.

I checked with the Land Titles Office.

If the festival goes to Bendigo, Griffith's gonna make a killing.

-Is that all?

-Not quite.

Ormond and Griffith used to be great mates until they had a falling out.

-You don't seem surprised.

-Nick Manos is an idiot.

He's gonna lose his gun license for that stunt he pulled

at your place last night.

I don't think he really intended to use it.

That's not the point. Stay here. Don't do anything.

Oliver, isn't it?

-Yeah.

-Lucien Blake.

Your...your dad's down there now

making an official complaint about me.

Any idea where he was last night?

Was he at home, polishing his grudge against Nick Manos, perhaps?

I don't know who you are,

and I don't appreciate you saying those things to me.

-Ah, anything for me?

-Not today.

-Expecting something?

-No. No, not really.

Any plans that I should know about?

Yes, I thought I might actually see some patients today for a change.

-You must think me such a whinger.

-Never.

I am, and don't you dare say I'm brave or I'll be forced to cry.

-How are you feeling?

-Wretched.

And I'm tired.

Well, I know you don't want to hear this,

but you really should consider postponing the wedding.

-Till I'm better?

-Angela...

Sorry.

No. You have nothing to say sorry for.

-I'm gonna need some more of this.

-I'll make some up.

You know, just when I'm feeling sorry for myself,

I start thinking of the poor professor.

He left me a card the night he died, but we were in Melbourne.

Really? What did it say?

-Would you mind if I hung onto it?

-Of course.

Good. Now, what about those hands of yours. How are they feeling?

-They're cold.

-Ooh! They are.

Is there anything else I can do for you?

Well, you can practise your dancing.

Charles Griffith wants you officially reprimanded

and removed from the festival judging committee.

Well, that's a bitter disappointment. What about the reprimand?

-Consider yourself reprimanded.

-Done.

The professor left this at Angela Waterston's

the evening he was murdered.

"Must see you on your return."

Why would he want to see her?

She and Griffith were on the same committee.

Anything interesting in his belongings?

-Parks?

-Professor Ormond had regular payments of £1.10 a week

paid into his account, starting from a month ago.

-That's his weekly wage.

-There's nothing else.

-Did he own a car?

-Apparently he caught trains and taxis.

Just lived out of his suitcases.

If you were Professor Ormond,

where would you keep your bribe money?

Rip it out, Parks.

Boss.

Poor root structure indeed!

Ormond and Griffith conspired to move the festival to Bendigo.

Ormond gets greedy, asks for more money,

hence the falling out.

Ormond threatened to unmask him.

Griffith kills him. Mind you, most of his work's pretty much done.

Parks, head back to the pavilion and talk to anyone you can find.

We need to get this watertight before we bring Griffith in.

-Yes, sir.

-Right. What can I do?

Go home. Uphold the Hippocratic oath.

Now you're getting the hang of it, Matthew.

Did you know the first Europeans to see the begonia

died shortly afterwards?

-Oh. A begonia curse.

-Yes, something like that.

I wouldn't have thought you were superstitious, Doctor Blake.

Hmm. Turns out Nick Manos was right.

The professor was apparently on the take.

Ah. Charlie Griffith was paying him?

-Probably.

-Has he been charged?

No, not yet. There's something missing.

I just can't quite figure it out.

Men - why do they always miss the simple things?

Well, that's because we're too busy fighting, bribing

and setting each other on fire.

All she needs is a little bit of care.

You think the professor cared about his begonias?

Yes, I thought he did.

-Then what am I missing here?

-Nothing.

In all probability, I'm sure you've got it all figured out.

Doc, I got a problem.

The gardener I talked to

said he saw two cars parked side-by-side of the pavilion -

an old ute and an MG Magnette.

The cars belong to Manos and Griffith.

-What time?

-Late.

The same night the professor was murdered.

Oh, you're kidding.

She swore that her dad didn't leave the house the whole night.

We all know what you were doing your thinking with.

What about Charlie Griffith?

He got upset when I asked him where he was.

So they were both there at the same time, Manos and Griffith?

Their cars were definitely there.

What were they both doing there at the same time? They hate each other.

Anyhow, I found this at the festival cottage.

Whoever killed the professor was at the launch.

Thanks for stating the obvious.

Do you want me to bring them both in?

No, we need to get our story straight. I'll get Hobart onto it.

At least I know he won't cock it up.

Not drinking whisky with any gun-carrying madmen this evening?

Your passport's out of date.

If you're heading overseas soon, you'll be wanting to renew it.

-You heard me the other night.

-Yes, the phone woke me.

I lost my family during the war.

My wife, and my baby daughter.

And I've been looking for them ever since.

And now?

And now someone thinks they may have seen them,

so they may still be alive.

Well, you should go... when you know.

By the way, the judges love your begonia.

Oh. You know I tried to bribe the professor.

I took him my passionfruit sponge, but he turned me down.

Says he hates sugar, and he can't eat those seeds.

They get caught under his dental plate.

Someone had a piece.

Well, it wasn't the professor.

I do hope you find your family, Lucien.

Goodnight.

Maria. Oh, sorry. Good luck.

-Where is she?

-I was gonna ask you that.

And while I'm at it, where were you when Professor Ormond was murdered?

-Maria said you were at home.

-I was.

Then why was your car seen at the pavilion that night,

parked alongside Charlie Griffith's car?

What are you talking about, Constable?

-Mattie?

-Mm-hm?

What are the symptoms of aplastic anaemia?

-Fatigue.

-Shortness of breath.

Coldness in extremities, very pale skin.

What's the usual course of the disease?

Always fatal. Slow decline, very predictable course, usually.

Yes, that's exactly as I understand it.

I've doubled-checked everything. Why isn't this helping?

Why is Angela failing?

-Doctor, are you ready?

-Yes.

Ah, Mrs Beazley, you do look handsome this afternoon.

We're running late.

-Thank you.

-Mattie, aren't you coming?

What, and sit around watching a bunch of giggling girls

compete over who's the prettiest and bakes the best scones?

I'd rather drink dishwater.

I'll explain later.

We can't find one of the contestants.

-Who?

-The Manos girl, wouldn't you know it?

I've told all the girls we start in five minutes.

Right.

Oh, Lucien, I was hoping you might...

You're an angel. Thank you. I'm clean out.

There you are, my dear.

-Time, Miss Waterston.

-Yes, I'm ready.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's my pleasure to welcome you here

to the final round of judging

for this year's Miss Begonia Competition.

We have had some trouble locating one of the lovely contestants.

No matter. The show must go on.

Time for some introductions.

The lovely Miss Waterston, heiress to the Waterston fortune,

who won't be a miss for much longer.

I'm Charles Griffith and we'll be your judges this evening.

It's time for the Ballarat Miss Begonia Competition to begin.

Our first contestant comes all the way from Castlemaine

where she works in Accounts at her father's hardware store,

Kate Russell.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, last and maybe not least,

as far as the judges are concerned, Miss Maria Manos.

Tell the judges, Maria,

what could you hope to achieve as Miss Begonia?

Well, frankly, after two world wars, Korea and Malaya,

I think world peace might be out of our reach.

That's very forthright of you.

Perhaps it's time to set our sights a little lower.

I'd like to aim for peace in our part of the world,

between our families, Mr Griffith.

So why don't you and I do something about it and shake hands?

I don't think that's appropriate.

Everyone knows I haven't got a hope in hell

of winning this thing with you up here,

but if I can stop you and Dad from killing each other,

then it'll all be worthwhile.

-Maria Manos, everyone.

-I haven't finished.

I'll put up with you being rude to me here,

because that's all anyone would expect from you,

-but once we're family...

-Family?

You're gonna have to talk nice to me and to my dad.

You'll never be family.

Ask Oliver about that.

He's the one who asked me to marry him.

Your son. I said yes, of course.

Miss Maria Manos, this year's Begonia Queen.

Danny, would you mind terribly if I borrowed you for a moment?

-Daniel!

-Yeah.

Oh, Lucien, wasn't that the best?

Ooph! And how lovely was that girl. She was so strong!

And how about you, darling? How are you feeling?

Oh, I'm exhausted, but I wouldn't miss that for the world.

Perhaps some of my tonic might help revive her.

One of the fresh bottles I brought today.

Darling?

Mmm. Tastes a little different, doesn't it?

That's my usual mixture.

Not too much honey because I know you don't like anything too sweet.

Someone else added the extra sugar

to all the previous bottles to cover the arsenic.

Yes, someone with a sweet tooth.

And it was very clever to choose arsenic,

because all the symptoms match those of aplastic anaemia.

-Lucien?

-Almost.

Except for the transverse lines on the fingernails

and the discolouration of the skin.

Would you mind taking off your gloves, my dear?

-This is outrageous!

-You have nothing to be ashamed of.

OK.

A definite sign of arsenic poisoning.

Angela, can you tell me the ingredients in my tonic?

Yeah, how could I forget?

Glycerine, ascorbic acid, hawthorn extract, honey.

Well, Anthony told me you'd forgotten.

Angela must have been in the clinic in Melbourne recovering from the transfusion.

You drove back here and phoned me early in the morning.

And it must have seemed rather a good alibi at the time,

reminding me that you were somewhere else,

and you probably made the call after you murdered Professor Ormond,

and perhaps you were eating a piece of cake.

What?

Oh...

It's all right.

I wanna speak to a lawyer.

You get a lawyer when I say you can.

They're charging him now.

Anthony Farmer, you're charged with the murder

of Professor Kenneth Ormond.

You're also charged with the attempted murder

of Angela Waterston.

Yeah? Good luck proving any of it.

I couldn't work out why you were going downhill so rapidly.

I should have asked you to remove those gloves.

None of my specialists did.

Still, no excuse.

He told the truth about one thing, though.

He did spend some time in Perth, but he was known as Samuel Bower.

This was on the other side of Ormond's article.

Accused of murdering an wealthy young woman he'd just married,

cause of death, arsenic poisoning.

The case was thrown out.

-He was married?

-Yes, at least once that we know of.

You see? The professor loved his clippings.

Fate had them both in the same newspaper,

and eventually in the same town.

Ormond must have recognised Anthony

when we were helping you at the pavilion.

That's why he wanted to see me. I was in danger.

Anthony realised, left you at the clinic,

drove back and killed the professor.

He phoned me asking about the ingredients of your tonic

just to cover himself.

We dusted the place for prints. I guess you were wearing gloves.

Except you took them off to eat that piece of cake.

And to pick up that plate.

Cuff him.

-Why would he do this to me?

-Because he wanted your inheritance.

Why poison me? I'm dying already.

He just couldn't wait, could he?

Come here.

-Hi.

-G'day.

-I heard.

-Here we go.

Mattie, look, I don't want to talk...

No, no, no. I'm sorry. Really.

Cup of tea?

And if you're not really interested in a person,

it hurts when they turn out to be interested in someone else,

especially when it's very, very public.

She used me to put her father off the scent.

The night the professor died, they borrowed their dad's cars,

and that's when he proposed.

She seems so blissfully happy.

I'm sure she is.

-So how is she?

-Devastated.

I suppose her health will improve for a while,

now she doesn't have all those poisons in her system.

It most certainly will. Here we are.

And congratulations, eh? Honourable mention.

I don't deserve it. I tried to bribe the professor with my cake.

Oh, come on. The others used cash.

Your cake played a very big part in Anthony Farmer's downfall.

-That's true.

-Mmm. Come on.

RECORD PLAYS

Sorry.

Goodness... it's been ages since I, um...

May I?

You know, there's a special someone for all of us.

You just remember that.

-Really?

-Oh, yes.

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