City Homicide

You see, that was the first time.

Fell off my skateboard when I was 14.

Can you feel it? I do.

I'll just go and fix that. OK.

Don't you ever stop?

She asked for my number. What could I do?

Yeah. Right. We're landing in half an hour.

You want to, ah... clean up? Yeah. What about him?

No, he's flying into a shit storm. Just let him sleep while he can.

Alright.

As a matter of fact, I wasn't sleeping.

But thanks anyway, Matt.

Told you not to use my first name. Sorry.

Detective.

I was wondering if I could ask you a favour.

You seem like a decent enough sort of bloke.

What favour?

Inside pocket of my jacket.

I'm hardly in a position to do anything, am I?

That's Mum.

If you could see she gets that I'd appreciate it.

She can come and see you, Conway. You can give it to her yourself.

No, she can't get around. She's got MS.

And you guys aren't going to take me to see her, are you?

Ring her from remand. I mean, she'll be glad to hear your voice.

Yeah. You can keep a letter, Detective.

You can take it out and you can hold it. You can't cherish a phone call.

It's my mother.

It's just a favour.

Ah, Sleeping Beauty's awake. Good morning.

Yeah. Good for me maybe.

Definitely not so good for you, mate.

Here we go.

What? No pressies?

Saving the T-shirts for later.

Did Waverley organise the back door?

Yeah. To stop the media vultures from having a feeding frenzy.

Mr Conway. Detective Mapplethorpe and Freeman.

Pleased to meet you. I bet you are.

Nice holiday? I wish.

Thought I was going straight to remand.

You're here until the press get tired and go home.

No spa bath, I'm afraid. You'll have to cope.

Sorry, mate, no press.

I'm not press. I'm in the job.

Mike Davies. Used to be in Homicide.

What can we do for you, Mike?

Heard your redirection on the band.

I was the one who handled this scumbag's case.

Just thought I might renew the acquaintance.

Bet you never thought this day'd come, Conway.

Four walls now, mate. For life.

Your parole officer hasn't even been born yet.

Just as vindictive a bastard as ever, eh, Davies?

Don't play that game! OK, Mike, you had your look.

Now back off.

Fair enough.

Hate to hold you up.

Sooner this arsehole's inside the better.

We've got company. Let's go.

Hey, Conway, I'll be in court when they send you down, son.

See if you're still smiling then, you arsehole.

Don't forget.

Arggh! Move!

James Lionel Conw ay.

Who fled this country after being charged

with the 1999 murder of photographic model...

What a monumental cock-up.

... w as killed whilst trying to escape custody

on his return to Australia this morning.

Conw ay had been extradited from Britain for over six years.

Your crew given their statements? Yeah.

Ethical standards are reviewing the tapes.

Mmm. Oh, the dead girl's father.

AKA the Inner Spring King.

You know, I can't help wondering

why Conway didn't fight extradition proceedings.

That's been exercising my mind too.

He didn't say anything of significance

when your team picked him up in London?

Not as far as I know.

According to them, he was polite, respectful, basically said nothing.

... from the balcony of her inner-city apartment block

during an argument with Conw ay. A government driver

and her secret lover.

Oh, well, maybe they've done us a favour this time.

Well, assuming he was trying to escape.

If what your boys are saying is true, that wasn't the case, was it?

He killed himself.

The press is stupid.

Why would he do that?

To piss us off, if you ask me.

Sure, Duncan, he killed himself just to piss you off.

I suggest you all get home. You've given your statements.

So what now, Sarge? Nothing, as far as I can see.

It wasn't anybody's fault.

Unless there's something that I don't know about.

OK. Well, I'll let you know if they need anything further.

Do not talk to the press.

That goes without saying.

And Simon and Matt, put together the extradition report tomorrow

and go through the original case notes.

See if there's anything there

that might explain what was in his head at the time.

And Jennifer, the Superintendent wants to see you before you go.

What for? Didn't say.

Oh, Detective Mapplethorpe.

Ah, sorry, I have to be somewhere.

Um, are you doing alright now? Yes, I'm fine. Thanks.

You're back on duty sooner than expected. What's it been - two weeks?

Ah, three. Just over. Mmm.

Unfortunate business. Are the media leaving you alone?

Ah, yes, they are now. It's old business.

Hmm. Well, you were wise to keep your head down.

Only way to deal with those buggers.

Was there anything else? Oh.

The mother of the boy you shot. Victoria Semple.

She wants a meeting with you. A meeting?

At this stage it's an informal request.

One of the partners in her law firm rang me.

He's of the opinion that a face to face with you

might help her find some closure over her son's death.

So, um... think about it.

Let me know what you decide. No pressure.

You said at this stage it's an informal request.

What does that mean?

Well, it's possible Ms Semple could make a fuss.

Nothing was said but it is important

to read between the lines with these things.

Are you ordering me to do this? Not at all.

It's entirely your decision. Let me know.

Goodnight, Detective.

What have you done?!

I mean, she probably wants you to apologise for her son's death.

It's usually what they mean by closure.

I've got nothing to apologise for.

Brett Semple was off his nut. We're lucky we're not dead.

Good morning, Jennifer. Morning.

You OK?

Something up?

Oh. Conway.

It's a long way to come to kill yourself.

Maybe he didn't want to face his last day in court.

Maybe.

"Hilda Conway".

Jim Conway's mother. He gave it to me.

He asked me to pass it on to her. And you agreed?

Well, given what's happened, this could be a suicide note.

Gee, he had you picked, didn't he? It's his mother.

So? Give it to Wolfie. With an apology.

I think he's had his breakfast. It's a bit late for that.

I mean, I accepted responsibility the moment I let Conway give it to me.

And a mother deserves the last letter from her son.

Matt, come on. She does.

I'll make it clear she has to tell us if it's relevant.

If it isn't, well, it's none of our business.

Oh. So I'll be coming with you?

Yeah.

Maybe she isn't here. She's sick.

Conway said that she's sick.

Mrs Conway?

Yes. What do you want? I'm Detective Ryan.

And this is Detective Mapplethorpe.

I already know about Jim.

Yes. We're sorry for your loss.

We came to give you a letter from your son.

Oh, yes. Jim said someone might come.

He said that to you? Mmm.

Mrs Conway, if this has any bearing on your son's death

or on the death of Suzanne Fendleton,

we may need to take it in as evidence.

Hilda. You should call me Hilda. That's my name.

OK. Hilda.

What did you mean, Jim said someone might come?

With this letter.

He phoned me from Spain.

That was just before he went to England and was arrested.

And he said if somebody should come with this letter

I was to give them something in return.

Come inside.

Jim said I could open it.

I can tell you what's inside,

but you'll want to read it yourself, I suppose.

Now, that explains exactly what happened

the night Suzanne Fendleton died.

You mean, this is your son's confession?

No, dear, it's not a confession.

My son didn't kill anyone.

Hilda, may I?

Oh, well, there's nothing really to interest you there.

It's just he loves me, he's sorry for everything he put me through.

You know, that sort of thing.

And you believe this, that he didn't kill Suzanne Fendleton?

Throwing a young woman off a balcony, no.

He was not capable of murder.

So you're saying someone else killed Suzanne Fendleton.

Well, Jim says so.

It's in there. It's on page 10. You look.

They tempted him with the sort of life he always dreamed about.

And he couldn't resist, you see.