Deadloch

Sam O'Dwyer is our first victim.

Photos of your injuries:

cracked pelvis, fractured wrist, broken elbow.

Someone knew what Sam did to Victoria,

and they murdered him because of it.

I don't want Margaret's money, Aleyna, I want her to give us our land back.

I know this is Miranda's earring,

which means she's been trespassing on my land.

Last night, six bodies were recovered from Deadloch Lake.

They just pulled a car out of the lake.

The bobbing bodies car belongs to William Carruthers.

Margaret's brother?

I found this under the seat.

It's Victoria O'Dwyer's missing shoe.

This town is full of man-hating lesbians.

I'm bringing those psycho bitches in.

it's amazing what you find when you actually look.

Tongues, in all your mates' freezers.

They're taking every remaining Deadloch man over the age of 17

to some secure, undisclosed location.

The killer is targeting cunts, James.

You're the biggest cunt I've ever met!

You should get on the bus!

Female killers don't kill for notoriety.

It's a fucking man.

OK. Yes... Yes...

Can everybody just quieten down, please?

I've already confessed to the murder, Dulcie.

God, it's a fucking aviary in here.

I know that this is not ideal,

but there's not enough room for you all in the cells at the station.

I uninvite you to Mardi Gras, Dulcie.

Fern and Angela will be starving.

Her children are starving!

Oh, they're not children, they're dogs.

See, Nadiyah's worried sick.

Darling, my lawyer is going to fix this.

I'm sick because I'm pregnant, Cath.

I don't want your gubba lawyer.

Wait, what? You're pregnant?

- Mm-hm. - Oh, my God!

Can everyone just shut up?

Thank you. Thanks.

- Dulcie. - Yes.

What is going on?

Hastings thinks that you are killing the men together,

like a netball team of serial killers.

- What? Us? - That's ridiculous.

Yeah, yeah. No, come on, relax your tits.

We know none of you did it, OK?

Vic, Abby found the shoe that you lost the night of Sam's death.

It was in the same car the killer used to store the lake bodies.

We think the killer picked you up when you were walking into town.

They drove you to Aleyna's.

And then they went back and murdered Sam.

Do you remember who drove you?

Anything at all? Clothing, smell, their voice?

No.

The last thing I remember was

Sam falling into the water at the shack,

and then, suddenly, it was the next day

and the nurse was trying to feed me a sandwich.

Dulcie, darling, I mean, surely you can work out the identity of the person

who drive Victoria from the car's registration.

The car was registered to your brother.

William?

When was the last time you saw your brother, Margaret?

Yeah. Or his schmicko four-wheel drive?

It has to be, oh, five, six...

Yes. Six years ago.

We had a row about Carruthers Island and he moved to Ubud.

Ugh.

I assumed he'd sold the car before he left.

There's been no contact since then?

No.

He is in Ubud, isn't he?

Oh, Sven's checking that with the Indonesian embassy now.

OK, darling, thank you.

Hang on, where's Skye?

If she's been bailed, I'll be fucking furious.

- She's gone. - What?

Yeah, after she was released, she decided that Tom, Vic and I

should leave Deadloch and never come back.

And when we said maybe not, she cracked it and drove of without us.

It was the best night ever.

- Oh, fuck. Real smart move. - I saw her drive off in her Subaru.

Fucking Hastings has probably got a sniper trained on her as we speak.

- Abby, see if you can get in contact with Skye. - Yes, ma'am.

What about you, Doctor Mayor?

Remember who dropped Vic off the night Sam died?

I told you, I thought she'd walked.

Also, I'm night-blind, so I need to see with my ears, like a bat.

OK. Margaret, do you remember anything?

I wasn't there for long.

Sharelle, what about you?

Fuck the cops.

- OK. Alright, yep. - Fair.

There was a song.

What was that, Vic?

I do remember being in the car...

...and there was a song playing.

Apa kabar?

Baik, baik.

Bisa tanya...

apakah ada pria yang bernama William Carruthers yang tinggal di Ubud?

No, no, no, no...

Ya, ya. Saya bisa tunggu.

Saya bisa tunggu.

Shit, shit, shit, shit...

OK, was it that Robbie Williams and Kylie Minogue song?

- What's that called? - "Kids"!

- "Kids"! "Kids", yes. Was it "Kids"? - No, no, it wasn't that song.

OK, OK... Another Kylie one.

Was it, um, "Locomotion"? "I Should Be So Lucky"?

Uh, uh... "Can't Get You Out Of My Head"?

Um... Uh, "Step Back In Time"?

Ooh, ooh! "Confide In Me"? That's an underrated banger.

Can you stop? Stop. Stop shouting songs at her.

She is not a DJ at a wedding.

Yeah, I've lost it now.

- Ugh... - Radcliffe! Connell!

Get the fuck out!

- Sir, we just wanted to talk to... - Out!

Before I arrest you for improper relationship with criminals.

Excuse me, that's homophobic!

There's nothing improper about Dulcie and I.

I mean, we are in the process of breaking up, but...

Cath, shush it! This is not helping!

- Get out! Now! - Yes, we're going, Shane.

Uh, Commissioner, I'm Margaret Carruthers.

How long do you think this is going to take?

Commissioner, we reckon Sam O'Dwyer was assaulting his wife

and that the killer knew about it and...

Yeah, of course she did. 'Cause the killer is Skye fucking O'Dwyer,

and now she's done a fucking runner.

Connell, did you tip her off about the raids?

What? No, of course I didn't, sir.

You've probably got O'Dwyer on speed-dial.

Ugh. Mate, her phone barely works.

Look, she's got one fucking bar!

- Sir, I didn't... - Nah!

I should have done this fucking weeks ago.

You've got your head so far up these women

you can't see the puss for the bush.

Uh...

Connell, I'm suspending you from duties.

- You fucking what? - Sir...

- Sir, no. You cannot do this. - End of discussion.

Get out of here. Go home!

Go colour-code your Birkenstocks or some shit.

Alright...

Which one of you's the killer?

They're gonna want to put me away for this,

and I am not taking the rap for you lot.

I've got a kid at home.

- We've all got kids, Sharelle. - I don't.

Well, I don't have kids either,

but the bond I have with my dogs is maternal.

I mean, I didn't birth them, physically...

Fuck's sake! Cath, stop inserting yourself into everything,

you emotional truffle-pig!

I'm sorry... Excuse me?

The whole time these murders have been happening,

you have only been concerned with how they affect you.

Well, that's not true. I love Deadloch.

Really? Because all Dulcie has been trying to do is stop people from dying,

and you broke up with her because of it.

Darlings, come on.

Women have to support other women.

Oh, fuck up, cunt.

My mum is in jail because you made up some bullshit story

about her stealing an antique gun.

Now my kid is growing up without her nanna because of you.

Oh, my God, is that true, Margaret?

Sharelle, what can I do to help?

Well, you can move.

Thanks to all you tree-changers

that I have to work five jobs just to afford to live here.

Mm-hm. Deadloch's gone to the dogs since all you lesbians arrived.

Fuck, Nessa! Shut up! You can't say that shit.

- What if your son hears? - So?

So he's gay.

Dolphie's not... gay.

What? Of course he is.

Oh, did none of you know?

See, this is what I'm talking about.

All that civility and no actual community amongst you cunts.

Like you, dog-mum. You're a cunt.

Yes-mayor, you're a cunt.

Morning-sickness, you're borderline.

And you, Margaret fucking Carruthers,

I hate you the most, you supercharged fucking cunt.

I'll just say it.

If we're looking for a killer,

Sharelle's the only one with a criminal record.

I don't have a record, I'm just black.

And when would I have the time to murder?

If I had free time, I would take my kid to the pool,

not kill her fucking dad.

Exactly.