(LIGHT FUNK MUSIC)
- Oh, 'scuse me. Hi. Can you take a photo of me, please? - Yeah.
- Thanks. - Sure.
OK.
- (CHUCKLES SHORTLY) (CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS) - Work it.
Workin' it. Yeeees.
- Do a candid one. - Candid?
- Like I don't know you're there.
- Right. (CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
- Say something funny. Make me laugh.
- I was just going for a peaceful walk― - (LAUGHS)
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS) Did you get that? - Sure did.
- All right. - There you go.
- Yeah, OK, these are cute. I just feel like you're not quite getting it.
Yeah, we'll go again. Sorry, my boyfriend used to do these, but, um― - He left you?
- Yeah. How did you know?
OK, we'll just do a little cute one. What about that? Three, two, one.
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS) Got it?
- Sure, I did. - Thanks. - Enjoy.
(LAID-BACK, RHYTHMIC MUSIC)
(WAVES CRASH IN DISTANCE)
- HARRY: Hello. You're looking very pleased with yourself.
- Yes, well, walking, Harold ― it's good for the soul.
Wow, 8000 steps ― it's not even lunchtime. - Well, good for you.
- What you got? - Lulu van der Vorn ― rich, socialite, divorcee ―
was found dead on the beach at Johnson's Bay.
Lulu was on her way to a perfume launch party but never showed up.
A couple of early-morning swimmers found her ―
blood alcohol was through the roof, but official cause of death was dry drowning ― champagne onthe lungs.
- Anything else in her system? - Nope. The coroner's ruled it death by misadventure,
but several hours before she died have never been accounted for.
Early morning Pilates class and lunch and a walk with her friend, Bridget Sandler ― works inPR.
As of a couple of months ago, lived with Lulu as a flatmate.
Around 2, Bridget left to set up the perfume launch ― said she'd meet Lulu there at 7.
We're assuming Lulu went home and got changed, but then no sign of her until the beach.
- Nothing on camera? - Vandalising cameras at Johnson's Bay is somewhat of a sport.
- Oh! Nudie-rudie Johnson's Bay.
Got it. - The victim was fully clothed, by the way.
- I don't know, Harry. If it looks like a duck, tastes like a duck... - Yeah, yeah.
The party girl partied too hard, right?
- I'm afraid I agree with the coroner.
(LIGHT PERCUSSIVE MUSIC)
How come you don't? - Cos sure it looks, walks and quacks like a duck,
but maybe... it's a cat.
- That's a very handsome cat. Who's this?
- His name's Cruz. He's Lulu's fur child,
and he just inherited her entire fortune.
- Lucky floof. - Cruz's appointed guardian ―
Lulu's newish friend, Bridget Sandler.
- Well, somebody landed on their feet.
- Or paws.
- I doubt the cat killed his mama.
Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air.
www.able.co.nz Copyright Able 2024
- The whole fortune ― house, money, everything left to the cat?
- It's not so strange. Chowder's the best person I know.
- Yeah, but you wouldn't do that.
Would you? - Oh, you better get sucking up.
- COOS: Oh, good boy. Aren't you just the cutest little button...?
So, what is dry drowning, exactly?
- It's drinking so enthusiastically
that she inhaled champagne into her lungs. - Oh.
- Vocal cords spasmed, cut off her airways.
- And she has no history of issues? - No.
She went straight from Pilates and power walking to this.
- The coroner thinks she died between 6pm and 7pm,
and she was last seen around 2 that afternoon?
- So that gives us four hours unaccounted for given that she left her phone at home that day.
- But bank statements and receipts show her last transaction was...
two coffees at Compulsion Cafe at 2.44pm.
- So that's three hours to fill. (CLICKS TONGUE)
You head to the cafe, see what you can find.
- Wait. What will you do? - I'm gonna see a lady about a cat.
(LIGHT FUNK MUSIC)
- ON PHONE: Is it amazing? - Uh...
Yeah.
- It looked amazing online.
- Oh, I love what Cruz has done with the place.
- So, the cafe staff didn't recognise Lulu from the photo, so she wasn't a regular,
which is backed up by her bank records ― she only ever made that one transaction here.
- It'd be good to know who she was with.
- The one CCTV camera is facing a carpark around the corner.
There's nothing on the strip of shops.
- See you at home. - See ya.
(DOOR CLUNKS OPEN)
- Can I help you? - I'm here to see the landlord.
You know ― the cat.
Bridget, what is PR, anyway? I've never really figured it out.
- Ugh, it's a moveable feast, doll.
For me, general comms, social marketing, events, damage control...
- Damage control? - For high profile people who need negative attention to go away.
- Oh, like Lulu? - Oh, God, no.
No, she was squeaky clean ―
all about helping people.
My husband left me six months ago, took everything.
I never saw it coming.
Then Lulu picked me up, took me in and put me back together again.
- Well, it's quite a reversal of fortune.
- For the record, I had no idea that she would leave me to look after Cruz and his inheritance.
(CAT MIAOWS) (SCOFFS)
There he is.
- (MIAOWS) - He doesn't like me.
- So what happens to the estate after Cruz uses up his ninth life?
- Lulu's favourite animal protection charity ― mm, yeah, the house and everything.
- How much did Lulu drink at lunch the afternoon she died?
- Nothing. We were more interested in water after Pilates and walking.
- So you had lunch, you said goodbye about 2, and that was the last you ever saw of her.
- I'm sorry.
It was just a really great day before, um...
I miss her. - Oh, that's a nice photo.
Can you send that to me? - Yeah.
(LAID-BACK MUSIC)
No.
(GASPS) Ooh! That one.
- Are you gonna share what's going on in your brain at some point? - Zoom in.
Oh, I knew it.
- Which translated into normal, colleague-to-colleague, non-control-freak language means...?
- This photo was taken the same day she died.
Spot the difference? - Her hair. She's had her hair done.
- Her roots have been retouched. - Well, three hours is more than enough.
- And I don't think Lulu's the 'do it at home' kind of gal.
- But we already know there's no bank transaction with a hairdresser on the day she died.
She could've paid cash. - Could've, but I'm assuming that Lulu had a regular salon,
so keep looking back.
- There it is. Beaumont ― $660 in August, $680 the month before.
- For a haircut?! - At Beaumont, yes... if they'll accept you as a client.
Look ― there's a waitlist.
- (SCOFFS) My mum used to give me that exact same haircut with a pair of scissors and a mixing bowl.
600 bucks? Get out of here.
- There's the owner ― Lawrence Beaumont.
- Hm... Ah, waitlist, you say.
- Good luck, Alexa.
(LIGHT FUNK MUSIC)
- We don't do walk-ins.
- Well, surely you can make an exception.
This place comes highly recommended by my friend Lulu van der Vorn.
- Oh. I'm sorry for your loss. - Thank you.
- Can I help you? - She's a friend of Lulu's.
- Alexa Crowe.
- Lawrence Beaumont. - I know.
- I don't recall seeing you at the funeral.
- No, unfortunately, I've been working in Australia, so...
- Lulu was my friend and client for over 20 years, and I don't remember her mentioning an Alexa.
- You know, um... a long time ago,
Lulu helped me turn my life around. - Ohh.
- Without her, I would not be standing here.
VOICE CRACKS: And I feel guilty that I never spent my money here like she always recommended.
- There's a four-month wait for appointments.
- Although I do recall there was a cancellation this afternoon.
Lulu must be working her magic.
I'll see you at 3pm, Alexa. - See you then. Thank you.
Uh... Where's the loo, please?
- The restroom for clients is through there.
- (EXHALES)
(CURIOUS MUSIC)
(DISTANT LAUGHTER)
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
(GASPS, EXHALES) Well, I guess this isn't the client bathroom. - No. That way.
- You know what, it doesn't suck to work here, by the looks of it.
- Work hard, play hard... you know how it goes.
- I'm Alexa. I'm a friend of Lulu van der Vorn's.
You knew her.
- She was my favourite client.
- Ah, so you're the one responsible.
- What? - For her lustrous locks.
- Uh, uh...
Look, I'd love to hang, but I'm actually on my break.
I need some food.
- READS: 'Sustainability and technology are two of Jett's passions,
'but at heart, he's an artist.
'Jett's revolutionary balayage technique is an industry game changer.'
- Belly what? - Balayage.
They sort of paint on highlights to make it look super natural.
- Isn't the point of paying all that money to make it look like you've actually had your hair done?
- So, Jett was Lulu's stylist or Lawrence?
- Maybe they both were. Maybe they were in a throuple. It's very trendy right now.
- We're still talking about the hairdressers, right?
- Or a love triangle gone wrong? - Well, whatever it is, Jett is a bundle of nerves.
Oh, hey... run this through forensics.
I think you'll find it's the same brand and vintage that was found in Lulu's lungs.
- Where did you pinch this from? - The salon, of course.
Cos one of these two guys was the last person to see Lulu alive.
I bet 680 bucks on it.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
(LIGHT FUNK MUSIC)
- Have you ever thought of going dark with a blunt fringe?
- So, you and Lulu went way back, huh?
- Clubbing days to start with, then she became a client and then a friend.
- Thanks. - Thank you.
- And then she cheats on you with Jett.
- What do you mean? - Well...
you were her stylist, but I happen to know that Jett did her balayage, which, incidentally, wassublime.
- Marketing 101.
Lulu's Insta ―
check the tag.
- Hashtag best balayage in the biz, mm.
- There were 9000 likes.
I hired a balayage king, matched him with Lulu... Everybody wants it.
Worth his weight in gold that boy.
I was always her favourite, though. - (CHUCKLES)
I guess the police spoke to both of you when she died.
- Why would they? - Because one of you must have done her hair for the party that night.
- No, not to my knowledge.
- She wouldn't have gone to another salon, would she? - She wouldn't dare.
- You know, it just seems so out of character ― Lulu drinking herself to death on a beach.
- Definitely not her style.
I don't know what was going on for her, to be honest.
Perhaps that Bridget creature could shed more light.
- Oh, you don't like Bridget?
- To be honest, I think your current look is working for you.
See Trinity on the way out.
- Steven, the computer has been freaking out all day.
Yes, yes, I have turned it off and on again.
- Holy― He didn't cut my hair― - No, no, no. No, no, tomorrow's not gonna work for me, Steven.
I need the system back up today.
Is there an issue with the invoice?
(EFTPOS MACHINE CHIMES) Now, would you like to make another appointment?
- Don't hold your breath, Trinity.
- One day when you're rich, don't forget I'm the one who gives you extra treats.
Oh. Your hair doesn't look any different.
- No, but on the bright side, the computer system at the salon is down.
- Oh, want me to take a look? - Yeah. Tell them that Steven sent you.
- And what would you like? - Client lists, any comms between Lawrence and Lulu,
Jett and Lulu or all three.
- Hi. - We don't take walk-ins.
- Uh, here for the computer ― Steven sent me.
- Oh, thank God. He said he couldn't get here until tomorrow. - Yeah, he can't ― hence me.
- Don't talk to the clients. Don't talk to the stylists. And don't make a mess.
- Now, my next appointment is locked, but the one after I'm on vacay.
- No problem. - I don't want anyone to muscle in on my spot.
Can I whisk you away to the Islands with me? - I'll have to check with my boss.
- OK. - All right.
See ya. - See ya!
- Have you ever considered hair modelling?
I'm Jett. I have my competition portfolio in the staff room, if you'd like to see it.
- OK.
Wow, you've won a lot of prizes.
- Your milk ― oat, almond, coconut...?
- Oh, cow?
- OK.
- What's it like working with famous people? - It's hard work.
- Who's your favourite? - Um, our list is very, very private.
- Have you ever dated a client? - Are you coming on to me? - No, I'm just nosy.
- Clients are strictly off limits. My boss would kill me.
- Yeah, I feel you. My boss ― she's great, and we're definitely a team ― but she can sometimesgo rogue.
- Isn't Steven your boss? - Oh, I moonlight. Don't tell him.
Thanks for showing me your work, but, to be honest, this place is kind of out of my price range.
- Oh, uh, there are ways around that.
See you soon, I hope.
(LIGHT FUNK MUSIC)
(COMPUTER BEEPS) - OK.
Come on.
- Why are you still here? - Look, this machine is in terrible shape.
- Really? - Yeah. I'll do my best, OK?
(FUNKY MUSIC)
Tell me how amazing I am.
Not only did I download the 'By Beaumont' client list
and some other ridiculously enormous files,
I had coffee with Jett Hwang.
- Oh, Mr Bag-of-Nerves. - Mm-hm.
He wants me to be his hair model and gave me his private number.
- You ask him about Lulu? - Well, I asked about clients in general.
He wasn't giving anything away. Maybe he'll gossip once I'm in the chair.
Oh, that's interesting ― following the password history,
there was a whole lot of access to the client list, and then the passwords changed.
- So someone was having a sly nosy and got busted.
When was it changed? - About a week before Lulu died.
- Is there any reason that Lulu would be snooping around in Lawrence's database?
- Well, didn't she bring half the clients to him in the first place?
What would she stand to gain from that?
- What kind of milk did he have?
- Who? - Your boyfriend, Jett.
Was it oat? - Yes. Why? - I'm just curious.
- OK, I've figured out why you do that, by the way.
- Do what? - Keep secrets. You're terrified of being wrong.
- (SCOFFS) As if.
- Well, luckily, I'm a sharer.
- JETT ON COMPUTER: 'Sup, bro. - MALE CLIENT: Oh, I'm exhausted, mate.
Remember that chick I was telling you about?
- Did you go there? - (CHUCKLES)
- What did the missus and the boy on the side think of it?
- You think Jett was recording his clients?
- Wait, I've heard that story before.
- Wait, she's back with her husband? - FEMALE CLIENT: Well, he's sick now, so what could she do?
Bye-bye a bit of rough. - The tile guy, right?
- No! He came to the house to fix a leaky roof... and the rest.
- And that one too. It's...
Delphine Digs. - Who?
- It's this gossip column I read ― don't judge me ―
but the story about the missus and the side boy
and all the cash it was taking to keep everybody separate ― that's in here.
And the married woman who dumped the tradie lover because her husband got sick.
Yes. Read it. It's right there. - What is this rubbish?
- And I knew that my guilty pleasure trash gossip habit was gonna come in handy someday.
- You think Jett is Delphine Digs? Or maybe Lulu was, and that's why she had to die.
- You know what this means, Alexa? - Why are you excited?
- Our next mission is to unmask Delphine Digs. (CHUCKLES)
(SEAGULL SQUAWKS, WAVES CRASH IN DISTANCE)
(CAT MIAOWS) - Do you hear that?
(LOUD MIAOWING) - (GASPS) Heeey.
Cruz... Hi, pussycat.
Hi.
(CAT YELPS) Cruz ― the man of the house.
Look, I know it's a bit of an intrusion,
but we have to figure out whether your mama was selling out her friends, OK?
Do you mind if we look around? (CAT PURRS)
He doesn't mind. - SIGHS: Cat people.
- So you start here, and I'll start upstairs.
- First one to find Delphine wins. - Deal.
(LOW, CURIOUS MUSIC)
(CAT MIAOWS)
Bridget sure moved your mama's stuff down here pretty quick, didn't she?
What's that?
(GASPS) Ahhh.
(CHUCKLES)
All right, pussycat.
(LAPTOP CHIMES)
Right, how do you spell your name?
Are you 'Cruise' as in Tom?
Are you 'Cruz'... with a Z?
(LAPTOP CHIMES) (GASPS) Cat people.
(FUNKY MUSIC)
I couldn't find anything on my Delphine Digs search on Lulu's computer.
I love it when you get that little frowny thing when you're concentrating.
- I'm not concentrating. I'm trying to block out an annoying voice.
- In your head? - In my face.
- That hurts. - (CHUCKLES)
Look, there's no Delphine on Bridget's computer either.
- Really? - Oh, it's just a bunch of old work emails.
Ooh, and remember that politician with the inappropriate texting?
- You'll have to narrow it down. - Well, Bridget saved his butt.
Look. - Oh, damage control.
- Mm. It must be so interesting working in PR, but Bridget can't be the gossip columnist.
She doesn't need anyone to leak her the scandals.
- The scandals come to her. - Mm.
Now what?
- Someone in that house was doing something bad, and it wasn't the cat.
- Cruz?
Puss, puss, puss, puss.
- Miaow. - (GASPS) What the hell? You scared me.
- OK ― crazy story.
Someone at Hair By Beaumont has been sending juicy files full of gossip to an IP address based atyour house.
And ― now, don't ask me how I know this ―
but that same gossip is showing up
in some online dross called Daphne, Delcie...
- Delphine. Delphine Digs.
- So the famous clients are recorded without their knowledge,
the file gets sent to you, and you publish it. - I know it sounds terrible.
- Oh, it's a horrible breach of trust.
- It's just a bit of fun. - Or a brilliant new way to generate business.
So Delphine publishes something nasty, and Bridget Sandler, the PR genius, saves the day.
- Look, it's dog eat dog out there.
Everyone's a bloody influencer these days.
It's messing with my bottom line.
- Did Lulu find out about your nasty little side hustle? - No way.
She would've been mortified. - So who sends you the files?
Come on, don't grow a conscience on my account.
- We have a code, OK? Harmless people are off limits.
Cheaters, swindlers, abusers ― all fair game.
- Did Lulu meet with Jett on the afternoon that she died?
- No. She said she was going home to get changed.
- Bridget...
I know that Jett Hwang has been here,
in this house,
in her bedroom, even.
Were they lovers?
- I don't... I don't know.
- So you don't know the gossip unless somebody feeds it to you.
- (EXHALES)
I'm not getting rich, you know.
Look at me. My landlord is a cat who I can't find.
And if he's squashed out on a road somewhere, I'm out on my arse.
- Have you ever seen this guy? - Mm-hm.
- Came in only once ― oat milk latte.
You rock.
Mads, are you on your way to see your boyfriend?
- Which one? Oh, you mean Jett. - Ask him if he and Lulu were getting it on.
- Oh, sure. I'll just drop that into the conversation. - Good.
- Want me to ask if he waterboarded her with champagne as well?
- Oh, that's just going too far.
(CURIOUS MUSIC)
- (KNOCKS ON GLASS)
- What are you doing here? - Oh, you invited me.
I haven't caught you at a bad time, have I? (CHUCKLES)
Oh, it's, uh, shabby chic meets minimal. It's very hot right now. - It's temporary.
- So where do you want me?
- There.
Um, I do charge slightly less in the salon, and it's cash only.
- I thought you wanted a hair model. - I do, but I'm a platinum stylist.
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
(SLY MUSIC)
(LOCK CLUNKS)
(ALARM BEEPS)
(ALARM BEEPS RAPIDLY)
- So I'm thinking like a noughties kind of vibe.
- Didn't that lady who died go to Beaumont's?
- Uh, we have a few elderly clients, so quite possibly.
- But the gorgeous one with the balayage.
She and your boss were always together in the social pages.
- Lulu.
Yeah. She and Lawrence were old friends.
- You must really miss her.
- We all do. I was her stylist.
- Oh, she didn't go to Lawrence?
- Lawrence is like the big picture guy now, but they were tight.
She was just a really great person.
- I thought you said you didn't sleep with your clients. (CHUCKLES)
Sorry. You just seem very, um, enamoured.
- Do you want a drink before you start ― a cup of tea?
- Oh, that'd be amazing. Thank you.
- Uh, I don't have any animal milk, sorry.
- Oh, yeah, oat milk's fine.
- Do you want a biscuit too? - A biscuit would be amazing, thank you.
Um, hey, where's your bathroom? - Uh, down the hall, first on the left.
- OK, great, thanks.
(LIGHT PERCUSSIVE MUSIC)
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
Ooh, guess what.
- It looks just the same. - Huh?
- Your hair. - Oh, yeah. I made an excuse and got out of there.
But get this ― Jett is broke.
Doing cash jobs in a tiny flat ― it's not very platinum stylist. - No.
- But I looked into his spare room, and he's recently had a shopping spree.
- Uh-huh. - So, on the way home, I looked at his bank statements.
And the day before Lulu died, he transferred his entire savings―
- ...to a commercial property company.
- Well, yes, because the stuff in his spare room ― it looked like he was about to―
- ...start his own salon. - Oh my God, you're so annoying.
But, yes, Jett was going out on his own.
- But he didn't. And you know why? - I'm certain you're about to tell me.
- Because he was going into business with Lulu.
Now, who would have a problem...
with that?
- Hello.
It's a nice evening for a ride.
- It's been a long day. I'd like to get home, if you don't mind.
- Did you know that Lulu and Jett were starting their own salon?
Yeah? No?
- If this is a wind-up, it's extremely distasteful.
- The day she died, they co-signed on new premises.
- No. Lulu was my best friend. She would never betray me.
- 'Betray' ― it's an interesting choice of words.
- And Jett wouldn't do that either. He's too grateful for the break I've given him.
- Well, a grateful mentee is a wonderful thing to have.
I have a mentee ― Madison ― and I'm not gonna lie, if she was to ditch me, then that would hurta lot.
- Like I said, it's been a long day,
so unless there's something else...
- No.
(OMINOUS MUSIC)
(DOOR SHUTS) - My eyeballs hurt. - Oh?
- It's phone footage from the salon front desk computer.
No wonder it keeps crashing ― Trinity backs up all her crap.
- Well, at least we know that Trinity was definitely at the party. - And so was Lawrence.
There he is, hogging many a camera.
- Hmm.
Just when I was beginning to wonder.
Any sign of Jett? - Not yet.
- Keep looking.
Oh, there. Stop! - I see it ― there in the background.
- Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom.
- Lawrence. Well, who's he talking to?
- (GASPS)
Delphine Digs.
(LIGHT FUNK MUSIC)
(TELEPHONE RINGS) - By Beaumont ― please hold.
- For pity's sake. Trinity, this woman doesn't have an appointment.
- Lawrence Beaumont, man of many secrets ― other people's, mostly ―
recording private conversations on the work premises,
then selling them to a gossip blogger.
Classy (!)
- So what are you gonna do about it ― tell everyone?
Fill your boots. I've never had any complaints. And you know why? Because it gives them status.
- That's why they pay Bridget Sandler megabucks to make the gossip go away, right?
So much for valuing customer privacy.
- The door's that way. (TELEPHONE RINGS)
- By Beaumont ― please hold.
Thank you for holding. Hi.
No. I'm sorry, Jett no longer works with us.
No, he didn't leave any forwarding details, and even if he did, I'm not allowed to tell.
- Jett got the boot? - Yeah. We should go find him and see what happened.
- Uh, it doesn't take a super hotshot ex-detective to work it out.
Somebody told Lawrence that Jett was going to jump ship. - I think you might be right.
- And who might that someone be, Alexa? - Come on.
- Where are we g―? We're not going to Jett's place.
- Oh, no. He wouldn't be there anyway. - (SIGHS)
(FUNKY MUSIC)
- Hi, Jett. Sorry you lost your job.
- Jett, this is Alexa.
- Sorry. I don't know what this is about, but I want to be alone.
- Today's the day you hand the keys to this place back, isn't it?
I checked with the leasing agent.
That's got to be tough.
Jett, can I ask you ― why did Lulu want to go into business with you?
- H-How do you know all that?
Lulu wouldn't have told you. She agreed to not―
- Madison and I help the police out sometimes
when there's a question about a death.
- You're not in IT?
- I don't work for Steven, no.
- Why did Lulu betray Lawrence, her oldest friend?
- Business is business.
She saw an opportunity.
I had enough money in my savings to cover the deposit,
and Lulu was gonna cover the rent, the marketing, the fit out ― all that.
- And then she died.
- I lost... my deposit,
my life savings,
and a good friend.
- Is there any way that Lawrence could've found out what you two were planning?
Like, might Lulu have told him for some reason?
- Do you really think I would've kept my job for as long if that was the case?
- I'm so sorry.
That is one upset hairdresser.
- Reckon you can get on to the police CCTV database and find out what that camera captures?
- I told you ― the car park. - That'll do.
- Will I have to sit and watch it?
- It's not gonna watch itself, Madison.
- I don't get why there has to be collateral damage. Poor Jett.
- Walking on eggshells with potential killers? Yeah, nah.
- 'Potential' killers, Harry. Innocent until proven guilty.
- She'll have her reasons. - Not that she'll tell anyone.
- You know, you better keep your voice down.
- She won't hear. She's totally engrossed in private conversations from the hair salon,
which, incidentally, she secretly enjoys. (CAT PURRS)
- Who wants to go to the beach?
- I'm feeling a bit overdressed.
- You know, after careful study, we can conclude that Lulu did not actually die here.
- Oh, we can? - I got a theory.
Ask me how the body got here. - I'm not playing your little game, Alexa.
- Well, it can't have been by boat because the rocks preclude boats.
That's what makes it the perfect nudie beach.
- So she was brought here by car, but we have no evidence of that because there's no CCTV footage.
- Or maybe that's what the killer wants you to think.
- No, not more footage. I am losing the will to live watching footage. (CELL PHONE RINGS)
- Oh, come on. You're so good at it. - Oh...
- Oh, it's Bridget.
Hello.
OK.
She wants to meet to tell me something.
- Hey.
- So have you found Cruz?
- He still hates me.
- Well, he's grieving.
He's lost his person, so he doesn't know where he fits in any more.
OK, well, you got me here.
- Heads up ― Lawrence is on the warpath.
- (EXHALES) READS: 'Which former detective needs to look for crims closer to home?
'Is her "Crowe's" nest...' (LAUGHS SCORNFULLY)
'...$2 million prettier courtesy of embezzlement by the police detective's jailbird brother Will?'
- He wants Delphine to publish it.
- Well, he's a bit late to the party on this one.
- Well, that won't stop him beating it up and spreading it around town, though.
- It doesn't worry me, but my brother has nothing to do with this.
- I'm not gonna publish it.
You're trying to do right by Lulu,
and I want that too.
But I wanted to warn you in person ―
Lawrence is a bitch when it gets his back up.
- Noted.
And hang in there with Cruz.
He needs you more than he's letting on.
- Thank you.
- OK, so on this side, we have the footage from the Beach Rd camera
that's to the left of the vandalised camera.
And on this side, we have the footage from the Beach Rd camera
that's to the right of the vandalised camera.
We sync up the time codes, et voila.
The ute leaves at 4.03am.
Fast forward both...
And arrives in the second frame at 4:03.22, which means it takes 22 seconds to get from A toB.
- Oh, rewind to see that car again.
Fast forward.
- And 22 seconds ― no car.
- And still no car. - Well, maybe it was a nudie swimmer ―
parked the car and went in for an early morning dip.
- No, I've seen that car before. - And?
- And now I see it again a full 17 minutes later.
- Enough time to drag a body to the beach. - (CHUCKLES)
Oh, more than enough. - Wait, why is that amusing?
Oh, you know who it is, don't you?
(KNOCKING AT WINDOW)
- We're closed.
Whatever now? - SINGS: # Da-da-da-da, da-da, da-da. #
I hope you don't mind, but I thought that maybe we should celebrate a little.
You see, I think I've figured a few things out.
- The stage is yours, Alexa, but you might need to up your game.
You're pretty rubbish at pretending to be Lulu's friend.
- Well, I guess that makes two of us.
Hey, maybe we could have some champagne laybacks.
You know, like the tequila ones in the party photos in your staffroom.
- Yeah, my, um, industry has been known...
to have wild times, but most of us grew out of it.
After all, there's nothing more undignified than a person of advanced years overindulging,
especially if they end up dead on a beach
with too much alcohol in your system.
- Except Lulu wasn't actually like that, was she?
She was more into Pilates and power walks.
- Who knows what happens behind closed doors?
- Well, actually, I kind of think I do.
You see, about six months ago, Lulu, your favourite client,
started having secret meetings with your star stylist.
They shared secrets ― secrets you couldn't hear despite your habit of recording your clients ―
because they held their meetings offsite away from here.
You started to get worried, paranoid.
Somebody had been looking at your database, so you changed the password, but was it too late?
You had your suspicions, so you asked Jett one day to come in
and do a little bit of extra colour consulting, and he couldn't.
He was too busy. So you followed him.
You saw Jett and Lulu going into their new premises,
and your fears were confirmed ― he was leaving you; they both were.
CCTV caught you watching.
Now, granted, the picture's not great, but, ooh, you should see the body language.
Well, it's a little bit like right now.
You were fuming, weren't you?
You were ready to explode.
Just hold a minute. I'm just getting to the good stuff.
There's no record of Lulu organising to do her hair before the party she never made it to.
So I'm guessing she just showed up.
Lulu walked right into your little salon of horrors, didn't she?
Does that sound about right? - I don't know.
You're telling a fairy tale.
- Lulu wanted her roots done, and you were more than happy to oblige.
You offered her a... a wee drink.
Poor Lulu. She'd signed the lease for Jett's salon,
and she wanted to come clean with you.
Big mistake.
She had no idea how badly her friend was going to take it.
You were taking the colour off, and she was lying there, vulnerable.
You saw your chance, and you took it ―
held her down, emptied the bottle down her throat until she choked.
- I was at the perfume launch. Dozens of people saw me.
I even made the social pages, for God's sake.
- Yeah, you managed to get your face in front of quite a lot of cameras that night, didn'tyou?
Except for one ― one very special camera about which you had some insider knowledge.
- CLIENT THROUGH HEADPHONES: Honestly, Lawrence, Johnson's Bay has been a nightmare. (SIGHS)
People complaining about the nudists...
now we have the nudists complaining every time we fix the CCTV cameras. I mean, we've just had to give up.
- Now, that was very handy, wasn't it?
And Trinity left her car here overnight so she could party,
which meant that you could take it, get to the Johnson's Bay blind spot,
and no one would ever know it was you.
So you dumped Lulu's body at the beach.
You came back here, you tidied up, and you went on with your day.
- So I killed her and then finished her hair?
It's laughable.
No one's gonna believe that. - Oh, I think that the cops will believe it
after they get the results back from the forensic sweep of Trinity's car.
I mean, you know...
Lulu in the boot,
you in the front...
You do the math.
Now, I don't really like the way that you're holding those scissors, Lazza.
Didn't anybody teach you the safe way?
- Those cameras still haven't been fixed. (BREATHES SHAKILY)
And Trinity's wee car is still outside.
- This is the first time you've held scissors in ages, isn't it? After all, Jett did all the work.
- Don't poke the bear, Alexa...
especially when he's holding this.
(POP! CHAMPAGNE FIZZES) (YELLS)
- (LAUGHS) OK, whoa! What a shot.
I was aiming for your head, but that'll do, Larry. That'll do.
- Oh, you're a madwoman! - With excellent aim.
- (INHALES SHARPLY)
- Harry, don't slip on the floor. Someone spilled champagne. - Thanks, Alexa.
Gidday, Lawrence.
- What are we doing this for? - It's team building.
- It feels more like punishment. - It's an opportunity to practise being vulnerable
and less control freak.
You first.
(LIGHT MUSIC)
- (SQUEALS, LAUGHS) - (CHUCKLES)
- Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! (LAUGHS)
Madison, come on!
- Not if you're looking.
- Whatever.
(LAUGHS)
So Cruz the cat is investing in Jett's salon.
I call that a great result.
Madison.
Madison? - (LAUGHS)
See ya later! (LAUGHS) - Madison, you come back here!
(FUNKY MUSIC)
If you have to hire a PI to spy on your partner...
- Christine has sworn to find the person who killed Griff.
- I'm sorry. Christine's spying on us? - It seems like it.
- Do you mind? - First rule of surveillance, Christine ―
never leave the doors unlocked.
- I think our days of being in a buddy movie are over, don't you?
- You know, there are easier ways to solve a crime
than turning the murder weapon on yourself.
- He made me a winner. It's called tough love.
- Game, set and match.