King of the Lake The Doctor Blake Mysteries

HE GRUNTS

Ah!

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

Ah!

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

Come on!

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

Come on. Come on!

Step up now. Now!

Ah! Step it up!

Step it up!

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

NOW!

Ah! Sorry, mate.

SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT

CHEERING

Yes!

HE EXHALES

Yes! Yeah!

Come here, come here.

What about a kiss for the camera?

Oh, go on. On the lips?

WHISTLING

SHOCKED GASPS

APPLAUSE

I told you, 200 yards out!

-I-I'm sorry, Dad.

-You nearly lost it for us, yeah?

All right?

Good race. You almost had us.

-What's that all about?

-Don't give me that. You're bloody cheats, OK?

ANIMATED SHOUTS

-You got a problem, Bates?

-Lads!

Right.

College! College! College! College!

THEY CHANT

HUBBUB

Rachel!

-Thought you might be thirsty.

-Thanks.

-Does this look all right to you?

-What do you mean?

I don't know. Does it look a little weak, like, not yellow enough?

-It's fine.

-Come on, photo time.

John? Now, where's Arnie?

Arnie!

Arnie, come on.

-Here you go, boys.

-Thanks, Dad.

APPLAUSE AND CHEERING

College! College! College! College!

THEY CHANT

CHEERING

APPLAUSE

Quickly, someone! Quickly!

BIRDSONG

Lucien?

Lucien?

You can't hide, you know. Lucien?

-Mattie.

-You asked him to move in, so go and sort it out.

Oh, they'll be fine.

Oh, honestly!

-Mrs Beazley, I promise, I'm being extremely careful.

-I know.

-It's just...

-These boxes belonged to the doctor's father. Wait!

This one is extremely fragile. Only the doctor is allowed to move them.

-It's just down the hall.

-Yes, I know, but that's not the point.

-Charlie!

-Give this to me! Ah!

-Oh!

-What's the problem here?

-Your boxes.

-Well, just shift them.

-You said no-one was allowed to move them!

Pop them in the surgery.

He's got to be able to get in and out of the room somehow.

Yesterday, you said no-one was allowed to touch them.

And today I've changed my mind.

You're angry because I offered him the room without consulting you.

It's your house, you can do what you like.

I thought you didn't trust him.

Well, I didn't. Not entirely.

But I felt for the boy.

But you're quite right. I should have discussed it with you first.

PHONE RINGS

Could I get a hand?

You seem to be doing fine.

Dr Blake's surgery.

Yes, one moment.

Charlie? It's for you.

Thanks for the room, Doc.

Is Mrs Beazley all right about me being there?

Oh, Mrs Beazley's ecstatic.

Monica?

Monica Parker, is that you?

-Lucien.

-Well, goodness me, what are you doing here?

That's my son.

Doctor.

I am so sorry. I-I had no idea.

If there's anything I can do, anything at all, you let me know.

That went well(!)

What have we got?

Dennis Goodman.

17, Ballarat College.

State schoolboy, rowing champion two years running.

Father told me he was going to be selected for Rome next year.

State swimming champion, freestyle and butterfly.

State team for cricket.

District for football.

Witnesses said two boys went into the water, only one surfaced.

They also said he was only under the water for 25 seconds.

Any attempt at resuscitation?

Three trained lifesavers in the crowd.

They took turns until the ambos got here.

Something's not right here.

What are we dealing with, Lucien?

At this moment, I have absolutely no idea.

He's quite the platonic ideal, isn't he?

He was an athlete. And a very good one, too.

That explains the muscle definition.

Must have taken some work.

See the shape of the pectorals?

And the abdominal oblique?

It's perfect.

Quite a student of the male form, Doctor.

-I studied classics at university.

-Mm.

Ahem! Slight acne on the shoulders.

Well, not surprising in a teenager.

There's no sign of any trauma, apart from a likely contusion on the jaw.

Yes.

Might need to let the blood settle on that overnight, see what forms, eh?

You didn't find anything he could have struck under the water?

No. No, not yet.

Doug Ashby's got a police diver coming in tomorrow.

-How about the upper airways?

-As you suspected.

Contained an unusually large amount of water,

despite the resuscitation attempt.

LUCIEN SIGHS

Not quite adding up, is it?

No.

But he can't have drowned.

We don't know for sure, Rachel, but it's still our best guess.

He was so strong.

You were with him just before he went in.

Did he...did he say anything, do anything unusual?

No.

Anything at all?

Well...he asked about his drink.

He said it didn't look yellow enough.

But he seemed fine.

He seemed...

Here you are, my dear.

-Oh, thank you, Doctor.

-Of course.

Charlie?

They took our photograph, then a few of the other students picked us up

and carried us to the water.

Go on.

-Don't tell them a drowning, not yet.

-What?! Why not?

It's tradition. You win your race, they throw you in the lake.

You've both swum in the lake before?

We've won a lot of races.

Excuse me.

What is that?

The contents of Dennis Goodman's lungs

after 25 seconds in Lake Wendouree.

-Well, the boy drowned.

-Not from water in his lungs.

When you're drowning, typically, the larynx clamps shut.

It's a protective measure. Prevents more water coming in.

You continue to struggle, but the lungs are sealed.

Basically, you asphyxiate. It can take quite some time.

That's what we call a dry drowning.

Now, alternatively, the larynx shuts

and then briefly releases

after an individual has fallen unconscious,

allowing a small amount of water into the lungs.

That's what we call a wet drowning.

And in this case?

Well, that's far too much water.

-So this is neither a wet drowning, or a dry drowning?

-Exactly.

The larynx failed to close, water rushed into the lungs.

Dennis Goodman was dead either just before,

or just after he hit the water.

-How?

-I don't know, but he didn't drown, as such.

-All because of the boy's larynx?

-Yes.

I mean, try breathing in next time you're sipping a cup of tea.

Are you suggesting foul play?

CHARLIE COUGHS

Sorry.

I'm not suggesting anything.

Well, the father is demanding answers.

Accident, manslaughter, murder, I have to put a name to it!

At present, causes unknown.

Acting Sergeant, make a note.

Until the doctor signs off on cause of death,

the body will remain in the Ballarat Morgue.

You feel like explaining that to the parents?

You don't know?

The autopsy was inconclusive.

But I have to organise the funeral.

And I understand that, but until we know...

They're doing what they can.

Our boy is in the morgue.

Now, we want him back so we can say goodbye. Is that so hard?!

-Darling!

-Is it?!

At the moment?

Yes, it is.

Mr Goodman, until we know how your son died,

we can't officially release his body.

MR GOODMAN SIGHS

Can you think of any reason why someone might want to hurt Dennis?

Did he have any enemies? Rivals, perhaps?

To your knowledge, did anyone ever threaten him?

-I'm sorry, Monica, I have to ask.

-I'd like you to leave.

-Now!

-Mr...Mr Goodman, please!

Mr Goodman, I have to ask the...!

My son had viral meningitis when he was six.

The doctors said he wouldn't live.

But he ended up inspiring more people in 17 years

than you'll do in a lifetime,

and you ask me if he had enemies?!

Mr Goodman, as Monica said...

That's Mrs Goodman to you!

Mr and Mrs Goodman, thank you for your time. (Go.)

Foxglove, from the garden.

-Foxglove.

-Mm.

-Very medicinal, you know.

-Really?

-Mm.

And I just thought they were pretty flowers.

I put your father's belongings in the surgery.

I don't know what you want to do with them.

That makes two of us.

-Oh, Charlie told me about the Goodman boy down at the lake.

-Yes.

I knew his mother years ago, before I left to study in Scotland.

She was the first woman I ever...

..courted.

Oh.

The night before I was leaving, we had a...

Oh, we had a silly argument about something.

Believe it or not...

..I was thinking about proposing to her.

Instead, I left the next day and never saw her again.

Joined the army, eventually got posted to Singapore.

It's funny, isn't it?

How your life can turn on a single moment, on a single decision.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

Well, good night, Lucien.

Good night, Jean.

Did I leave you with enough hot water this morning?

Ah, nearly. It was better than yesterday, at least.

-Morning, Mattie.

-Good morning.

-Charlie.

-Mrs Beazley.

-Oh!

There's a patient to see you.

It's a bit early for that, isn't it?

You'll want to see this one.

Why would anyone want to hurt Dennis?

I was hoping you could tell me that.

Everybody looked up to him.

I...was so proud of him.

Even Patrick Tyneman sponsored him.

Sponsoring? I thought Dennis was amateur.

There was some way around it. I don't understand.

-I'm sorry Herbert was rough with you yesterday.

-Oh!

-He was a sportsman, too, wasn't he?

-An Olympian.

He could be very tough on Dennis, said he had to be.

SHE KNOCKS

-Thank you, Jean.

-Not at all.

-If there's anything else you need...

-Yes.

Now, you have another boy, don't you?

-Yes. Lucas.

-An athlete, too?

Oh, he tries.

-He's more of an academic than Dennis ever was.

-Ah!

Well, I do approve of scholars.

Herbert didn't.

Lucien?

-If you have any regard for me...

-Monica?

Monica, this is my job.

And I promise you, I'll find out what happened to Dennis.

Thank you.

I loved my son, Lucien.

His memory is all I have left.

Well, look at that.

Absolutely right.

You can just see the beginnings of a circular imprint

just above the carotid artery.

Meaning if the artery was damaged, it could have caused him to drown?

May well have done, Charlie.

Might leave it a while longer to settle, eh?

Do you have the stomach contents?

-You can see the redness, can't you?

-Yeah.

Ah!

HE SNIFFS Oh!

Well, that is interesting. Charlie?

-Oh! What am I meant to be smelling?

-Alcohol.

You can definitely smell it.

Mm. And I presume alcohol wasn't available after the race?

It wasn't. I know that for a fact.

Dennis didn't drink. Never has done.

I understand that, Mr Goodman. I only ask because...

Well, on occasion, boys will be boys.

I know my own son, Blake.

And I'm telling you, there must be some mistake.

He was a good boy.

He trained hard.

I'm sorry.

Dad?

I can't find Dennis' sports bag.

For God's sake, Lucas, it doesn't matter. Come on, we're going.

I've just spoken to the boy's father, AGAIN!

He's furious.

I mean, the boy drowned in front of 40 witnesses.

You know, the family's actually more worried about the boy's funeral

than if he had a quiet ale on the side.

Only they say he never touched the stuff.

And I still can't work out why his body reacted the way it did.

-Charlie?

-Yeah.

This bruise.

-You said there was a scuffle.

-Mm-hm.

Talk to the boys involved.

And some other argument he might have had,

according to the girlfriend.

-Find out who it was with.

-Yes, boss.

And before you do any of that... better check that lake.

Will do.

You really think this is murder?

Yes.

You've got 24 hours.

That's it.

-In the water?

-Yes.

-IN the water?

-Yes.

Blake, you could have told me you wanted me to go in the water.

You heard the superintendent. I wanted divers, we don't have time.

Now, Charlie, 10, 15 minutes, tops,

then hop out, rug up. It's bloody cold.

Thanks for that. Any chance of a swig from that flask before I do?

No, I wouldn't, Charlie. It increases the risk of hypothermia.

Quite right.

Deep breath, Charlie!

Heh-heh! Welcome to the Ritz.

Bit different to what the College toffs have, eh?

Oh, it doesn't seem to have slowed you down. Not too much, anyway.

Yeah. We almost did them the other day, and in last week's qualifiers.

Only I got stuffed towards the finish.

-We just kept going out too fast, too early, that's all.

-Right.

Now, you and Dennis had something of a to-do after the race, I gather?

Oh, just stirring. Then he broke it up.

No-one landed nothing.

Pity. Bloke had a face you'd never get tired of punching.

So tell me, if you win at the State Titles next week,

you might be selected for the Olympic squad, yes?

He might, I won't. Timmy's the gun, I'm just the grunt.

He ought to, at least, after all the yakka he's put in.

He's going for some scholarship overseas.

-Ah!

-It's a Rhodes Scholarship.

It's pretty competitive, though.

Ah, he'll get it.

Just a shame he's a rubbish bloke.

Oh! Is that right?

Here you are, boys. Just something to keep you going.

-Smashing, Mrs Webb.

-Thanks, Mum.

You'd better pack up soon, love.

Dr King's got some deliveries needing to be made.

Yes, Mum.

I remember making the same deliveries for my father's surgery

from time to time when I was your age.

Dr Blake, this is Beth Webb. I trained under her.

Pleased to meet you.

Absolute pleasure.

Now, Mattie, we'd best be going.

Boys, good luck at the State Titles, eh?

Anything from the other students?

It sounds like the girlfriend, Rachel,

-and Arnie Ross were a bit of an item before Dennis came along.

-Ah!

It's probably just teenage gossip.

-What about you? Anything useful?

-Not a lot.

Let's see if Charlie's managed to find anything, eh?

Thanks for your help, Arnie.

Hey, Doc, turns out there was something down there.

So I see.

Arnie, those shoes of yours,

were you wearing them yesterday when you were thrown in?

Yes, sir.

Looks like you didn't have to go swimming after all, Charlie.

I knew I must have kicked him.

I felt something after we hit the water.

And you didn't think you should tell us?

It's all right, Arnie. You gave Dennis a bruise,

it isn't what killed him.

Then why are we here?

Tell us about Dennis.

Great sportsman, very dedicated, trained real hard.

Glad we were on the same team.

Yes.

You know, I noticed in the newspaper,

it mentioned he'd won the Wendouree Classic.

It didn't mention you.

Did that happen often?

Yes.

Gosh, that must have been difficult.

Well, he was the successful one, I was just there to help out.

Oh. And did you always think that way?

Son?

I used to think I could make it professional.

That was before Dennis and his dad came along.

-His dad coached you both?

-Dennis mostly.

And how did that make you feel?

Dennis always got whatever he wanted.

The best of everything.

Took all the glory, took my girl.

Then he starts cheating on her with someone behind her back!

Honestly?

I won't miss him.

It's a good thing young Dennis was winning races,

because he certainly wasn't winning many friends.

We had a phone call while you were out, some joker in a phone box,

saying, above all things... You're going to love this.

..Tyneman tried to fix the Wendouree Classic

so that Dennis Goodman could win it.

Of course he did.

I shouldn't be surprised.

They were anonymous, they just phoned in.

You used to be involved with Monica Goodman. Weren't you?

I've been around this town for a lot longer than you have, Lucien.

That has absolutely no bearing on this case, Doug, and you know it.

But you have to admit, it complicates matters.

-Excuse me, sir.

-What?

It seems one of the college teachers has found

a half-empty bottle of spirits in a visitor's locker at the boathouse.

Spirits?

Whose locker, do we know?

Les Bates.

Who was also seen outside, just before the presentation.

All right, bring him in.

And this time, Dr Blake, Charlie and I will ask the questions. OK?

Vodka? You're kidding, aren't you?

What would I be doing with that top-shelf stuff?

You were seen around the time of the refreshments.

So? I went to pick up my pocket knife.

I thought I might have dropped it back there, or in the change rooms,

but I couldn't find it.

And you didn't see the bottle then?

I reckon I'd remember.

Did you see anybody there at the time?

No, nobody, except Arnie.

Arnie Ross?

He was dropping his bag off as I was leaving.

Do you know Patrick Tyneman?

Who?

Patrick Tyneman.

He's a local businessman.

Did he ever talk to you before the race about deliberately losing?

If we'd tried any harder, we'd be in a bloody box ourselves.

If you're dead-set on finding someone who had it in for Dennis,

maybe you should talk to his old man.

We already have, Les.

Well, then, you know Dennis' dad used to rough him up before a race.

-Just to get him angry.

-How do you know that?

I saw him do it plenty of times.

Is that right?

Show me, Les.

It's all right.

-Oh.

-Like this.

How hard? Like...like that?

Show me.

Then he'd shake him and sometimes he'd hit him.

It's all right. Go on.

Yes. Pretend I'm Dennis for a moment.

Bates! Bates! Bates!

-Sorry about that, Doc.

-No, not at all, Les.

Bit more conviction there than I expected.

Oh, well spotted, Charlie(!)

I was tempted to let him keep going.

Did you know anything about this before he started?

No, not really.

Certainly puts him in the frame now, though, doesn't it?

You'll be wanting to talk to the father, then.

Charlie can do that, without you.

I haven't finished!

I don't like surprises, and I don't like being kept in the dark.

I want to know what you're doing, and why, every step. Understood?

-Understood.

-You want my advice?

I instinctively know you don't, but if you did, I would tell you,

stay away from the Goodmans!

I still haven't found Dennis' sports bag.

I gather there was some petty theft at the college.

A stopwatch went missing.

Maybe someone took his bag, too.

He rows well for a scholar.

Yes. It's his first year on the rowing team.

He tries very hard for his father.

When did you meet Herbert?

During the war.

We met at a dance.

Hm! He was a great dancer.

He made me feel safe.

He was going to take me away from all this.

It's funny how life turns out, isn't it?

Yes.

I remember I wrote to you from Edinburgh. I, um...

I didn't think it was fair to ask you to wait for me.

Ah, here's Lucas.

So, tomorrow morning, we can start making the arrangements?

Yes. Providing the lab reports are as expected.

I'm just sorry I...

I can't tell you anything more right now about how he died.

-Have you met Dr Blake?

-Lucas.

I'll go get the car.

Well, looking good out there.

Quite a rower, from what I can see.

I'll never be as good as Dennis.

I am ever so sorry for the loss of your brother.

Don't be.

LOW CHATTER

Patrick.

Lovely morning. Please, don't let me stop you.

I'll be in touch.

And...don't trust this one.

Thank you, Mr Tyneman.

So, you're sponsoring Tim Webb now?

All strictly non-professional.

What happened to, um... sponsoring Dennis Goodman?

Sadly, the boy's dead.

So now I'm sponsoring Tim Webb.

I gather there are still questions about Dennis Goodman's death.

You wouldn't be sniffing around if it was accidental.

Personally...

..I couldn't stand the boy.

No principles.

But he was the ideal type to promote.

And that's what matters(!)

This is a young country, Blake.

For the next few hundred years,

all our heroes are going to be sportsmen or clowns.

Takes a long time to develop anything else.

Patrick, tell me...how's your boy?

Still in jail.

But thanks for asking.

Alice has verified the contusion

on Dennis' throat and jaw was only superficial.

The lab estimates his blood alcohol at one part in a thousand,

to be confirmed tomorrow with their final report.

Including test results for poisoning of any kind.

So, the fact is that neither the bruise, nor the vodka,

nor the shaking, nor anything else we're aware of

caused the boy's death?

-I'm afraid not.

-So now you know.

Given the pressure I'm facing from Melbourne

and subject to the lab's confirmation,

unless you release the body, I will have no option

but to review your position as police surgeon.

Understood?

Understood.

-Alice.

-Doctor.

I did as you asked, ran further bloods on him.

There's no presence of any medication.

No detectable presence of SGOT.

But elevated levels of testosterone.

Yes. Elevated beyond reasonable fluctuations.

Also, levels of haemoglobin far above what you'd expect.

And I found evidence of injection marks on the gluteus medius muscle.

See? Here and here.

You can just see them.

-He was doping himself.

-Yes.

-No wonder he was so...

-Physically perfect?

-I was going to say impressive.

-Mm.

I asked the family doctor to release his medical records.

He refused. At the father's request, apparently.

-The father again.

-Yes.

-Are you any closer to finding out how he died?

-No.

But I do have a long list of people who would've wanted him dead.

You shouldn't be here. Herbert will be furious.

Did you know Dennis was taking testosterone?

-What?

-An anabolic steroid.

Enhances performance and recuperation.

Well, possibly. I...I wouldn't know.

Herbert looked after all of Dennis' medical issues.

It's potentially very dangerous.

Herbert would never do anything to hurt our son.

-How would he know?

-Monica, where are you?

-Look, I have to go.

Some of the boys from the other team called Dennis a cheat.

My son was never a cheat.

He was an inspiration.

-A special boy.

-He was doping.

You again! I thought I made myself clear?!

Mr Goodman, please.

I know Dennis was using some kind of steroid or testosterone,

and I think you know that, too.

Now, we need to find that missing sports bag.

Do we?

Lucas, get your brother's bag.

There is no missing sports bag, Dr Blake.

We found it at the school this afternoon.

Here. Take a good look.

You happy now?

Herbert, I am so sorry...

I say this one final time.

Leave me and my family alone.

Testosterone?

-Male sex hormone, Jean.

-I know what it is, Mattie.

It's cheating.

Well, is it? I mean, they take vitamin supplements

and some of them are on special diets. That's not cheating.

Actually, steroids are frowned upon in most sports,

but you do have a point.

-Finished?

-Yes, thank you.

What about the teams that aren't taking it,

or can't afford it? Is it fair on them?

And I don't think his fans in the town would be impressed

that he's taking male sex hormones to improve his stroke.

Oh, for heaven's sake! It's like living with a pair of children.

LUCIEN CHUCKLES

Well, if you ask me, I'd put my money on the rowing partner.

What about the brother? Hm?

Permanently overlooked, sibling rivalry.

Let's not forget about the father in all of this.

Oh? Why?

Because he married the girl you were fond of as a boy?

I think he knew about the doping

-and I don't think he could tolerate failure.

-Mm.

Well, I feel sorry for him, actually.

You know, he went to Berlin for the Olympics,

but he had to drop out because of some injury.

-Maybe he's reliving the glory days through Dennis.

-Mm.

But what the rival on the other team?

-I mean, doesn't he benefit now that Dennis is out of the way?

-Mm.

And if Dennis was on testosterone, where did he get it from?

On the father's instructions, the family doctor,

you know, Dr King from down the road,

-won't release his medical records.

-Mm.

And I felt certain everything would be in that bloody sports bag.

Charlie! Your dinner should still be warm.

I have got some studying to do.

Thank you.

KNOCK AT DOOR

I thought you might need this.

Lovely.

This boy had seemingly so many enemies.

The problem isn't so much why, it's how.

How did someone do this to a lad in such supreme physical condition?

I'm sure you'll work it out, Lucien.

One way or another.

Thank you, Jean.

-Morning!

-Morning.

Er...your friend Patrick's put himself on the front page.

Hm. A roast tonight, if that's agreeable.

Oh, sounds great.

PHONE RINGS

Blake's residence.

He said it didn't look yellow enough.

Yes, sir, I'll tell him.

Doc, boss wants to see you.

Immediately.

So yesterday was strangulation and alcohol, today it's bodybuilding?!

Huh! I take it you're no closer to a conclusion?

-No.

-All right.

I have a regional command meeting later this afternoon.

And I have to tell you,

you're apparently now on the official agenda.

So if you've neither released the body

or provided grounds for criminal charges by the time I return,

four o'clock, you leave me no choice.

I have to submit this...

..seeking your formal suspension.

So go!

-Foxglove.

-Hm?

Foxglove.

What are you doing?

Yellow.

Foxglove.

Foxglove! Yellow!

You're sure about this, Doc?

We missed something more important than we realised.

Now, when's Ashby due back?

About four. Why?

Do you think you could get someone to go and search

in and around the boathouse for Dennis' bag?

The sports bag? I thought the Goodmans already found it.

Charlie, they showed me a bag.

I'm not so sure it was Dennis'.

So his bag might still be out there?

Sergeant? They're here.

Thanks.

And you can't recall anything else he said,

either just before, or just after the presentation?

No.

I was really angry with him.

He was going behind my back with another girl.

Any idea who that was, Rachel?

No! We were in love!

He was going to get me out of this town!

Sorry, that must sound really stupid to you.

No, not at all, Rachel.

That's why I put the vodka in his drink.

After the race.

Drinking's against college rules,

but I wanted him to be punished for what he'd done.

Rachel, on the day Dennis died,

you mentioned he asked you about his drink, about the colour.

Yes, I think that's what he said.

Had he ever spoken before of things looking...

unusual, or...or a bit odd?

No.

Had he ever mentioned anything about dizzy spells?

No.

Is it my fault?

Please tell me that I didn't kill him!

You did not.

The alcohol had absolutely nothing to do with Dennis' death.

There you are, confirmation that Rachel was responsible for the vodka.

-We're going to have to release them, Doc.

-Yes.

Is Rachel still here?

Arnie, yes. We just needed to ask her a few more questions.

Well, what sort of questions?

I mean, I know I may still be in strife,

but if I can help, I will.

Yes. You've helped her before, haven't you?

You helped Rachel spike that drink

and plant the bottle in the boys' change rooms, yes?

Arnie, did Dennis ever talk to you about things looking strange,

or what about feeling dizzy, perhaps after a race?

You mean the yellow thing?

Yes, the yellow thing.

For the last two or three weeks.

The bloke was obsessed! "Is this yellow? Is that yellow?"

Anything else, Arnie? Anything at all?

No, I don't think so.

You mentioned he was seeing someone else.

Do you think he could have told her?

I said I didn't know who that was.

Yes, but you have a pretty good idea, don't you?

Does Rachel know?

No. Nor should she.

We'd had a row.

Rachel was with her dad in Melbourne that weekend.

Dennis didn't know and dropped by.

By then, I'd already had a few glasses of wine.

It's not until the men stop looking

that you realise you've become...invisible.

It's not an excuse, just an explanation.

Dennis had left well by morning.

I should have known he'd tell his pals.

No. No, no, no. I...

I think Arnie was the only one who suspected it was you.

And he didn't know for certain

until he saw you arguing outside after the race.

After the first time, Dennis thought he was on to a good thing

and threatened to tell Rachel if I didn't keep seeing him.

I begged him to let it end

and he just laughed at me.

In the time you...knew Dennis,

did he ever talk of things looking yellow?

Did he ever mention having fainting spells?

He was dizzy once.

But he took something from that sports bag he always had with him

and later, he was fine.

Dear God!

Dear God!

SHE SOBS

Watch it, mate.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah. I found it at the college boathouse, hidden up on the roof.

Well, if that is, in fact, Dennis' bag,

inside, I'd expect to find, amongst other things, a syringe,

a file labelled testosterone or anabolic steroids,

and some digoxin tablets.

They're derived from the foxglove plant.

And if taken regularly, they make things appear yellow.

Used to treat diabetes, epilepsy.

Ah!

And in Dennis' case, I suspect it was used to treat heart arrhythmia.

-Arrhythmia?

-Yes.

Bit young for heart problems, wasn't he?

Oh, it can happen at any age.

In fact, it's a condition that's often inherited.

But the question is this -

why did the digoxin fail to protect him?

If, in fact, this is digoxin.

Why did you lie about finding your son's bag, Mr Goodman?

Why? Because I was sick and tired

of my family being harassed by this lunatic!

Of course. And the fact that no-one would connect you

to the missing drugs had nothing to do with it, I suppose.

Let me ask you this, Mr Goodman. How's your heart?

Lucas? The car.

It was my bag we showed you.

He WAS taking something.

Dennis.

I'm not sure what. We never talked about it.

But I remember Dad reminding him once he needed to take it.

But you don't know what, exactly?

No. I was afraid Dad would make me take it, too.

I don't even like rowing.

Dad doesn't want to hear that.

Lucas, what have you done? You can tell me.

I told one of those other boys.

Last month, at the school trials.

Right. Which other boy?

Oi! Boys!

Oi! Stop!

All right! They can have it back if they want it that bad!

-Get up.

-Argh!

It's only a bloody stopwatch!

You'd reckon I'd robbed a bloody bank!

Where's he reckon he's going?

Move. Move!

SIREN WAILS

You know, I used to come here as a boy, to this very spot.

To watch the rowing. I loved it. Really loved it.

I would just marvel at the freedom of it all.

You've lost all that now.

One decision.

One decision has the power to change everything.

Come on, son.

When his brother told me he was on something, I didn't believe him.

Not until last month's trials when I saw him trying to hide his bag.

I waited till he went out on the water and then I had a quick look.

That's when I found the testosterone and the digoxin.

Did you know what they were?

Not at first.

But I did my homework.

Found out all about them.

The heart pills were one thing.

I could understand that, not wanting anyone to know.

But the testosterone?

The steroids?

I mean, it actually makes me feel sick,

thinking about all the years and all the effort

taken from me by a cheat!

So you swapped the pills.

Yeah.

For slimming tablets that looked much the same.

I knew that when he won the race, he was going to get thrown in.

And without the digoxin, his heart couldn't take it.

Cold water would do the rest, causing his heart to stop.

I wasn't wrong, was I?

How'd you know they'd win?

Because I let them.

Les never even knew.

What's this?

That's the stopwatch used for your practice run.

And looking at the time there...

..I'd say you would have won easily next week.

Maybe.

But why leave that to chance?

You've got some explaining to do, Mr Goodman.

It's all my fault.

If it wasn't for this... condition of mine...

..Dennis wouldn't have died.

I think there may be other reasons

for you to take responsibility, don't you?

Your son left a trail of damage, I'm afraid to say.

Winning was the only thing that mattered, nothing else.

Not the team-mates he pushed aside, not the opposition he cheated.

Not the girlfriend he was unfaithful to.

I'm sorry, Monica, but that's the truth of it.

The young man who did this...

..what's going to happen to him?

He'll be charged as a youth.

I hope they hang him.

-Monica!

-Jealous.

Couldn't cope with the fact that my boy was better than him.

It's not about being better than anyone.

What kind of a memory am I supposed to have of him now?

I should have expected this from you.

I asked you for help.

What made me think you could help me?

You'll just walk away now, never mind the consequences.

You have another boy.

You be kind to him.

A word, Doctor?

Melbourne's been on the phone,

asking why my police surgeon appears to have been involved

in the pursuit and apprehension of an underage suspect.

I told them it was on my orders and, of course,

the boy was not the suspect, but the perpetrator.

You've got a lot of enemies, Lucien.

I'm not one of them.

Thank you, Doug.

My wife and daughter are gone.

Before I was called back here, I was...

..sitting in my empty house...

..watching time disappear.

You keep finding answers, maybe I can keep this job a little longer.

So, for my sake...

..try not to stuff up.

Your father was a good man.

But we all loved your mother.

Lucien, you all right?

Did you know my mother was friends with Doug Ashby?

Your father talked about it.

She had a miscarriage when I was two.

Was diabetic.

I had absolutely no idea.

So much I don't know.

Well, you seem to be managing very well.

Thank you, Jean. One thing I didn't manage well, Monica Goodman.

I treated her so badly.

That's not really any of my business.

I knew she wasn't the one.

And I raced off halfway around the world before I told her.

-In a letter.

-Yes.

I should have told her in person, of course.

I wouldn't like to be treated like that.

Well, somehow, I can't imagine you'd ever be treated like that, Jean.

That medicine that boy was supposed to be on, the digoxin.

-Yes, you mentioned it.

-Foxglove.

-Derived from digitalis.

-Hm!

It was right under my nose.

It often is.

I'd best put the roast on.

Charlie! What on earth are you doing?

You said we were having a roast.

I thought I'd get it ready for you.

And what do you know about roasts?

I used to help Mum.

I've got brothers.

-Oh!

-Is that all right, Mrs Beazley?

Yes. For now.

Sorry. I just find it hard watching you do everything.

Well, it's my job, Charlie, but thank you.

Here you go.

Off the table, Mattie.