Top of the Lake

So I think I know the identity of your China girl.

She was my GFE. It's kind of a girlfriend.

What are you... judging me, huh? Staring.

I don't like the way this conversation is...

Ah!

Alex!

Nosy bitch!

You can work beside your sisters, breast to breast, legs wide open.

Can you help me?

Love you.

I have your shoes.

Hi.

Mary still sleeping?

She's gone.

Really?

With him?

Did she call him or did he call her?

She was calling him.

Off and on all night.

And she's given him your address.

That's worrying.

I'm not worried.

You're not?

How can Mary look at what Puss did to you and still love him?

I need to tell you something.

Last night I picked her up from the underpass.

Yeah?

Hang on, you mean...

You mean the hookers' strip?

Yes.

He's prostituting her?

I should do these dishes.

Are you breathing?

Just breathe.

Oh.

How can he want to hurt Mary?

I don't know.

He's made a bad move there.

Mary won't tolerate it.

Prostituting her, it won't compute.

I've thought about arresting him but I can't hold him.

Or I'll kill him.

I'll get him fucked up, I've got contacts.

Yeah. OK.

- Got your body map? - Yup.

Get him a seat, please.

This is your body map?

Describe the hair length, say what's on your drawing.

Er, black,

fine, one or two inches past the waist.

Check.

Erm...

Two dark, almost black,

even moles under the left breast one centimeter apart.

The furthest left is lower.

Check.

Jesus.

Anything else?

Er...

She always wore a small gold cross,

which she removed before our sessions.

Not here, mate.

Guess she died fucking.

She shave her muff?

Yup.

Close-shaven, one to two millimeters.

Check.

Approach the body, please.

Can you positively identify the body?

Yes.

I'd like to

have a moment to say goodbye.

Yeah, you just had it, buddy.

No.

Cover her. It's inappropriate. You're a customer,

not a family member.

Hey, no phones here.

Turn it off.

Stop right there.

Hey! You just disobeyed a direct order. That's an offense.

- Take that. - I can delete it.

- We'll keep that as evidence. - I can delete it.

- Not now you can't. - It's evidence,

and even if you trash it, it's retrievable.

What did you want? A souvenir?

Get your bag, Brett. We'll take you home.

See you, buddy.

Hey, so what do you think?

Shall I keep his phone or...?

You decide.

- Do you like him? - Like?

Well...

What?

He knows her body by heart,

he paid attention to her.

He cared.

So you think he cared. I want to know if

- he killed her. - Well, someone did.

I want to be with you.

And I'm finding this quite upsetting cos I think you've got someone.

Just fucking tell me if you've got someone.

Hey, get the car.

You get the car.

Come on, mate.

This is... bullshit.

Look, just so you know, Stall can get a little fixated on women,

so you might want to keep your distance.

You're overseeing our case.

See, there are noes that mean yes.

All of us guys get plenty of yes-noes.

Stally doesn't know a real no from a yes-no.

Here.

Call me if he comes around.

Thanks, mate.

Brett...

Brett...

I'll have dinner at the table tonight. We've got company.

- Oh. - Oh, er, sorry, introductions.

Cinnamon, this is my good mother.

Who is it, dear?

Yeah, well, you're calling it overtime but I call it

effective police work. I need Thommo out there.

China girl before her face was smashed.

Her name?

Cinnamon. Shop name.

So...

Suspects?

Either of you?

Brett Iles, he's intense.

I'd also look at the shop itself.

There's rumours of a guy who rents a room above it.

Where are you going?

- I'm leaving you two alone. - Sit back down.

Just wait. Will you?

You know, you're taking a moment to see your partner's...

Do you see she's upset?

Look, I got your messages.

So what is it?

I can't stop worrying that something's wrong

and the baby's dead.

Why? Are you bleeding?

When you miscarry, you bleed.

Ask for an ultrasound.

It's hard to organise.

Hey, but if it's...

... if it stops you from worrying. Mm?

Is she being a bitch?

Yes!

I'm sorry.

I don't see you enough.

I need you.

I get scared, really scared.

I know, I know.

Sylvie!

Oh, God.

That's what I've heard on the grapevine.

Housewives, stuff.

Hi. Robin.

Hey, yeah, I remember. You're back from New Zealand, are you?

- Hi, how are you? - OK. How's Patrick?

- Did he like his panda? - Panda?

- Yeah, the stuffed bear. - No, I think you might be thinking

about another kid.

- Patrick doesn't have a panda. - Hey.

- Hey! Where are you going? - Oh, hi.

- You left your lunch. - Right, OK.

Hey.

Are you blaming me for his wife?

I didn't know she was coming.

No, I blame you for enjoying it.

And attacking me every day relentlessly.

Not today, every day.

Do you recognise her?

Hmm... I don't know who she is.

Pixie, we've got to stop this bullshit.

Look at her.

Let me help. She is not a student,

she's a sex worker, Pixie, and she's dead.

Oh, God.

I don't know how I can help.

Are you sure she's a sex worker?

Yes.

Get me

a fucking ultrasound. Pick up the phone,

- call Dr Chatterjee... - I can't do that, he's away.

- He's away? - Yes.

Fuck you, Pixie! Get someone else to do it!

Hey!

That is enough. She has heard you, she will do it.

- I want to see you fucking phone! - You do it!

- Do something. - You'll do it, you'll

- text the appointment time. - Get off me!

Constable Hilmarson, you have to leave.

No. It's my baby.

It's my baby!

It's OK, you've told her, she'll do it. Leave.

Constable...

Leave. Leave.

Erm, can we meet up and talk?

Call me one night after seven.