Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

Saul?

Try not to resist. Shh.

£120. £120. Do I see £121?

Thank you, sir. £121 to the gentlemen in the back row.

Where's Saul? He should be back by now.

£123.

£150.

Uh, £150 going once...

going twice...

and sold.

Shame!

Shame on you all to use the Kadimah

to raise money for your selfish propaganda.

Around the world, our people are being persecuted.

And you would have us do nothing?

You talk to me of persecution, Yossi Stein?

You, who were born to a good family in Carlton?

Simon! Come.

Run, little lamb. Papa calls you.

I warned you to stay away from Yossi Stein.

The funds were for the Kadimah.

Excuse me, but that's my painting.

Simon, explain the situation.

I took the painting without my father's permission.

I didn't know its value, and you never liked it.

Margaret Preston is a talent to watch.

So now I like it.

If you ever tire of the painting, please give me a call.

Mr Abrahams, come quickly. It's Saul Michaels.

Saul? Saul? He was fitting.

I made sure he couldn't hurt himself.

Saul? Can you hear me, Saul?

What is happening? It looks like epilepsy.

I'm sorry. Your friend is dead.

Dear boy! No!

- I don't understand. - Saul was an epileptic.

He was never even ill.

Perhaps we should call the police. Of course.

Try City South Police Station, Inspector Jack Robinson.

Well, I dare say I should close the shop.

Do you have a personal interest in this case, Miss Fisher?

Not at all,

although I briefly owned that Margaret Preston painting over there,

until it proved to be stolen property.

It's always complicated with you.

The deceased's name is Saul Michaels.

He worked as an apprentice cobbler for Chaim Abrahams.

Ben Abrahams is Chaim's brother, and also the landlord.

He owns the entire building.

It was poison.

I'll be my hat on it.

I'm not sure it'd suit me.

A man has just dropped dead in her shop

and she's pretending to go about her business

as though it was of little consequence.

I'll be interviewing Miss Lee thoroughly...

in private.

Come on, Jack. I called you, remember?

If you call the Fire Brigade,

you don't get to stick around and put out the fire.

A warm teapot in the cupboard, a broken cup in the bin,

and a fragment of handle under the body.

I'll continue questioning Miss Lee here

while Miss Fisher maintains complete radio silence.

What's your relationship to the deceased?

He's a customer.

Do you make cups of tea for your customers?

Not usually, no.

Did you make a cup of tea for anyone today? Yourself, perhaps?

I don't recall.

This teapot is still warm. I must have made tea after all.

I'm confused. When, during the whole affair, did you have time?

While I was waiting for him to come to.

You chose to put away your tea things

rather than seek medical attention for a dying man?

I thought he was fitting.

I'd like you to accompany me down to the station for further questioning.

Miss Fisher, that offer does not extend to you.

Saul was a good boy. No-one wished him ill.

Listen to him. So sentimental.

You think this incident might be the result

of something the deceased was involved in?

I have my suspicions. You didn't know him at all.

I knew he was a Zionist.

Saul Michaels thought that all life's problems would be solved

by the return of the Jewish people to the Land of Israel.

We will need the body for burial as soon as possible.

I'm afraid there'll have to be an autopsy.

If there's anything we can do to expedite the process,

for religious purposes.

I'll let the coroner know.

When's the wedding? You have to let me make your dress.

Uh, no rush.

We have to find the money for a deposit on our own place first.

Yeah, it's still early days. Plenty of time to work all that out.

My uncle has offered us a concessional ten-acre allotment

off his farm in Echuca, though...

but we're not sure.

Oh, there you go.

Cec has always dreamed of becoming a farmer. Haven't you, Cec?

Cec, you should have said!

What Cec doesn't know about the land isn't worth knowing.

Well, we can't afford it anyway, so...

If it's only about finances, I wouldn't worry.

You can sell your share in the cab to Joe McPherson.

Really? Yep.

Joe's been trying to cut into the partnership for a while now.

I'll go and see him today. Oh, Bert. Thank you.

Don't mention it. I just want to see that everyone's happy.

Oh, that was nice.

Excuse me, I'm looking for a Miss Fisher.

You found her. Filthy-rich house on the corner.

Thank you. Where you going?

I'm going to see Joe McPherson to get you a cheque.

Do I get a say in any of this? I'm only trying to help.

It's what you want, isn't it?

Nice respectable little place in the country?

Appreciate the congratulations, Bert. Thanks.

I appreciate you telling me you'd rather be a bloody farmer

than drive a cab with me.

Miss Lee has been charged with Saul's murder.

We would like to hire you to prove her innocence.

How intriguing. What makes you think she is?

I have known Miss Lee for over ten years

and in that time she has proved herself

to be a person of the utmost integrity.

The evidence suggests otherwise.

The evidence is purely circumstantial.

There's no motive.

And your interest in helping her is because...

I have done well since arriving as a migrant

in your wonderful country...

And?

And when I see the opportunity to give back to the community, I do so.

How very neighbourly of you.

Miss Lee is also a very good tenant,

and good tenants are hard to come by.

As my son has pointed out to me more than once.

So, will you take on the case?

I'm not sure you'll like my rates.

The Margaret Preston.

You know the way to an art lover's heart.

Such fearful drawings.

We found them on the shelves in Miss Lee's bookshop. Oh, dear.

And it seems Saul Michaels was quite the radical young Zionist.

Perhaps he and Miss Lee had a row over the texts.

Do you have the autopsy results?

We're waiting on a report, but the Coroner's convinced it's poisoning,

probably strychnine.

We found rat poison in her cupboard.

Could someone else have put it there?

Well, apart from the landlord,

there was only one other customer in the shop that morning.

An old soldier looking for somewhere warm.

Boer War. I see.

And Yossi Stein was the auctioneer at the Kadimah.

Why is he written down?

He arrived at the bookshop with Saul Michaels,

but he didn't even set foot inside,

which puts more suspicion on Miss Lee.

Hmm... It's all feeling rather neat.

You should be pleased with yourself. You called it in a shot.

May I have a word with her?

Is it a personal or professional visit?

Miss Lee.

Hardly the visitor I expected, Miss Fisher.

I've been hired by Saul Abrahams to investigate his friend's death

and your innocence.

I thought you'd already made your mind up about my guilt.

I'm hoping you'll convince me otherwise.

Tell me about Saul Michaels.

He was an intellectual and a scholar. He liked books.

He was also a Zionist. So? I sympathise.

How can anyone not understand the yearning for a Jewish homeland

after the pogroms in Russia?

And yet you keep anti-Semitic texts in your shop?

I also keep books on golf, Miss Fisher.

It doesn't mean I follow the sport.

I believe in freedom of speech, even for idiots.

You said Saul Michaels was returning a British Hansard to the shelf

when he collapsed.

Yes.

I'm not sure of the exact volume,

but the details will be on my lending file.

Tell me about the rat poison. I keep it in my cupboard.

For what purpose? To kill rats.

If you don't mind my saying, you didn't seem very distressed.

Because I didn't break down in tears and bear my soul?

How could you begin to know how I'm feeling?

Put the book down.

Damn! My gun!

I think you take unnecessary risks, miss.

On this occasion, you might be right, Dot.

I've been searching through this book from cover to cover

and for the life of me,

I can't work out why people are prepared to kill for it.

Well, I had some luck with that old digger in the bookshop, miss.

According to the Military Museum,

there aren't many Boer War veterans living in the Melbourne area,

and only one with the kind of medals Miss Lee described...