(FUNK MUSIC)
Final round, team. - (GRUNTING)
- Time to push. Pick up the pace. Let's go!
We're here for a reason ― to train hard this morning. Come on. What do you call that?
Let's go! Let's push! Let's go.
Are you gonna actually hit or what?
Get stuck in. Let's go. Show me what you got.
Let's do it. Hit me!
Come on ― hit me. Hit me!
Argh!
- ALL: Yeah! - (CHEERING)
- Whoa! - Whoo! - Yeah!
- How was the workout? - Let's just say I don't think that
group exercise is for me. - You can't give up after one class.
- I'm not giving up, Harry; I'm not allowed back.
- Oh. - Anyway, what you got?
- You got any interest in real estate?
- You mean those agents who think my no-junk-mail sign
doesn't apply to their cheesy flyers? - Like Payton Green?
- (LAUGHS) Yeah. OK ― before I speak ill,
is Payton dead? - As of seven weeks ago, yes.
He was discovered in a swimming pool at a busy open home
in a leafy suburb.
One of the potential buyers wanted a closer look at the pool,
and there he was. - Drowned?
- Autopsy showed a broken neck,
and some bruises consistent with a fall.
We also found some weird paper,
under his fingernails of his left hand.
Couldn't find a match anywhere in the house where he died
or his own place or his office.
Payton was due to get married in a few months.
His fiancee, Greta, wants answers, obviously.
- Mm-hm. - And we do have a prime suspect ―
Baxter Wells. - READS: Sells.
- He was running the open home that day. It wasn't his listing,
but the real estate office got a call to say that no agent had shown up.
- OK, why is Baxter Wells Sells your favourite?
- Rivalry between him and Payton?
Greta's pretty adamant that he was Payton's only enemy.
It's pretty hard to pin anything on Baxter, though.
The house was full of DNA from agents, buyers.
You gonna take a look, aren't you? - What makes you say that?
- Because you hate Baxter Wells already.
And the house where Payton died has been sold 17 times
in the past 20 years.
WHISPERS: The current owner thinks it's cursed.
- OK, so now you're trying too hard. - (CHUCKLES)
- Why don't we just stick with 'Baxter Well Sells is a dick'?
- Works for me. - OK.
Laters.
(SOUL MUSIC)
Captions by Faith Hamblyn.
Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air.
www.able.co.nz Copyright Able 2024.
Now, Baxter was mail-dropping these
beauties the night of.
Harry said that the police door-knocked
and confirmed that he did deliver flyers to about a hundred homes,
even if they had 'no junk mail' signs on them.
- Well, it's a decent enough alibi, I suppose,
but even without one, the house has cameras front and back.
Payton arrives at 6 minutes past 5 and never leaves.
Nobody else enters or exits the house before or after.
- No one who was caught on camera, anyway.
- Unless they came down the chimney, Payton is the only person in that house.
Look, there he is. And there's nothing, nothing, nothing.
- Until he opened home the next afternoon.
- Digital forensics already went through this footage ―
there's no sign of doctoring, no fake news here.
- Mm. - Nothing from the back door, either.
See, it'd be good if this angle was the other way ― like, a pool cam.
- Mm. Hey, on the bright side,
Baxter worked with Payton.
- Well, they seem happy enough.
- But we both know there's...
- Baxter's never met a cliche he doesn't love.
(CELL PHONE DINGS) - Ooh, hey. Whoa. Here he is.
Very prompt response to my inquiry.
Ooh, he can open up the house for us in 15.
- Nice. - (GASPS) Must be true that he's...
- (CHUCKLES)
- What do you reckon the sales commission is on a place like this?
- With the market the way it is, you're looking at a sales price of $6.2 million.
Oh, come on, you know I love real estate shows,
but the agent's commission is around 2%.
- Well, the office takes half of that. That would leave Baxter Wells $62,000.
Worth killing for? - Maybe it's about more than money for a guy like this.
- According to the website,
Baxter Wells was in the finals for the top sales SATs for years,
but never came first.
- That'd be Payton Green? - Two years in a row.
- Uh, Excuse me.
You know that this street is residents-only parking?
- Well, we're hoping to be residents. This house is great.
- Oh. Word to the wise ―
You need a parking permit.
The wardens around here are ruthless.
- Ooh. Should I move it? - Oh, I'll keep an eye out for you.
- Thank you. - Only because you've got a sensible car.
These old streets aren't designed for the gas guzzlers
that people buy nowadays.
I mean, what do you want a ruddy Jeep for in the city?
- My feelings exactly.
Oh, I'm Alexa Crowe, and this is my friend Madison.
- Oh. Leslie Roache.
- We're, uh... We're just here to meet the real-estate agent.
- Baxter Wells. Mm.
I'll call the parking warden myself.
- (CHUCKLES)
Hi, Baxter.
- Now, this home has everything, Alexa.
All it needs is a classy owner,
and I think I just found her.
- I bet you say that toallthe buyers.
- Entertainer's kitchen,
all the bells and whistles,
butler's pantry. - I wish I had a butler.
- (CHUCKLES) Don't we all, Madison.
And there are LEDs...
in the scotia.
It even has a disco mode. - Bit of a boogie before breakfast.
- (LAUGHS) You said it.
- How's the outdoor living?
- Oh, Alexa, now, that ―
that is the icing on the cake.
- WHISPERS: Go through to the bedrooms. Look for any access point
not covered by security cameras.
(FOOTSTEPS RETREAT)
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
- Resort feel, like you're on holiday year-round.
- I saw the sales history ― how come this place changed hands so many times?
- It's the price bracket ― you know, people are always upgrading.
They want a bigger garage or a tennis court.
- Maybe there's something a bit off about the house. - (CHUCKLES) That's heated,
of course. - Didn't some guy die in this pool a couple of months back?
- Uh... - Well, you meant to disclose that, you know.
- If a buyer is serious, then yes ― yeah, of course. But you know what?
It's the thing about these heritage homes ― you know, they have a history.
People live in them, people die in them ― old age or...
- His neck was broken, and he was tossed in the pool;
it's not like Auntie Mavis slipped off in her sleep, now, is it?
- (CHUCKLES) OK, so, uh, what's going on here?
You, um... You looking for a bargain?
WHISPERS: Because I happen to know,
the vendor ― very motivated.
- You're incredible. - Thank you.
- How well did you know Payton? - Well, uh, he was, uh,
a colleague, and, um...
and I think he would want me to finish the work that he started.
- Would he, now? - OK. Yeah.
I don't think this is the house for you, Alexa.
- I just can't figure out if he believes his own crap or not.
- And I couldn't find any other entry or exit points.
The windows are all deadbolted, and there's no side door.
- Hey, just a sec?
Hello, Leslie. Can I ask you a quick question?
The night that that young man died in the house, did you hear or see anything?
- Why is that? - Well, sometimes I work for the police.
- Ooh! You're a police officer.
I've been calling you lot about the graffiti.
Oh! I could show you the fence at number 3.
- That's not really my department, Les.
So you didn't hear anything the night young Payton died?
- It's noisy around here.
Cars zooming through like it's a speedway.
I've called about that too. - Don't talk to her, Leslie.
She's a death tourist. - If you say so, Mr Sells.
- Wells. - But your junk mail
says your name is Sells,
middle name Wells. - We've had this conversation, Leslie.
- Have we? - OK.
- I'm as sharp as a tack ― believe me.
I just like to mess with him. - Mm. - Smarmy git.
He's always coming over here and asking me if I want an appraisal.
- You're not interested in selling? - If I were,
I wouldn't have him near the place. - Really?
- You'd have heard the story. - Story?
- About why there's bad blood between him and the lad that died.
- Won't believe it. OK. - What are you looking at?
- At Sage, the homeowner. She's got her own YouTube channel.
- Mm-hm. - Apparently, this was the last morning she spent in the house,
before she put it on the market and never went back. - So, last night when I went tobed,
the washing machine door was closed. OK? Closed.
Now, look ― everything's on the floor.
The whole thing's spilled out. I didn't do this.
- Oh, the ghost came and did her laundry for her.
- I'm more concerned that she can be that young and afford to own a house in this city.
Like, that hurts. - You don't wanna buy a house, do you?
- Well, I can't live with you and Chowder forever, can I?
- I never really thought about it. - Hey, what are you doing?
- I'm just giving it all a quick spruce-up before the real-estate agent gets here.
- What real-estate agent? - Baxter.
I messaged him and apologised for my behaviour.
- Uh, you never apologise for your behaviour.
- Well, I told him I was thinking of selling the house, so all is forgiven.
- (KNOCK AT DOOR) - # Ah. #
- What? Why?
Why would you invite a murder suspect to our home?
- So I can ask him something. - Ah, you ever heard of a phone?
- WHISPERS: And so you can get some intel while I give him a tour.
Baxter Well Sells. Hello again.
- Great place, Alexa. Ah.
How about the postcode, huh? (CHUCKLES)
- Yeah. Please come in. Uh, you know Madison, right?
- Yeah. Hey. - Yeah. Just, um,
put your stuff anywhere.
Uh, I'd like to show you through the bedrooms.
- Sure.
The luxurious master suite ―
tick. Or, uh,
should I say mistress suite?
- (CHUCKLES)
I'm nobody's mistress. And don't you get any ideas.
- Oh, I won't say another word.
- Wouldn't wanna be unprofessional. - Me? Never.
- Or maybe sometimes just a little bit.
Yeah, I've heard you're a player ―
that you like to play in other people's bedrooms.
- I, uh...
Is that an invitation?
- I've heard that you would take your girlfriends to the houses you were selling
and that Payton caught you. - Ah. OK.
Stuff this.
- The vendors were away, but you had a key,
and Payton bought some buyers there.
Boy, did they get an eyeful when they came upstairs to see the view!
Payton had called your bosses before you got your clothes back on.
- The incident was dealt with at the time.
We all moved on. Payton and I, we didn't have a problem.
Now, do you want an appraisal or not?
- Revenge, rivalry ―
the motives are stacking up.
- (CHUCKLES) See, once a cop, always a cop.
I can Google too. And you don't want a sale ―
you want a snoop.
- Why'd you come here? - Hey?
- You suspected that I lured you here under false pretences,
but you still came.
What, on the off chance that I was genuine?
Oh, anything for the sale, right ―
anything at all.
(DOOR CREAKS)
(PAPER RUSTLES)
- Um, hey, don't forget your phone.
- (DOOR OPENS) - Yeah? Got it?
- Clone being emailed to your laptop as we speak.
Ooh, and look at what I found in his briefcase.
- Relevance? - Maybe I should take a look.
- Because? - I might be able to afford it.
- (SCOFFS) You'd live on your own? - Oh, sure,
I'd miss having a housemate who invites every murder suspect she meets to our home (!)
- One time― two times.
- Mm.
- You want your room back, Chowder? He says yes!
Thanks for seeing me, Greta.
I'm so sorry to hear about your fiance.
So, are you headed away?
- Oh, just got back ― Wellington for work.
I used to love coming home from my trips, but, um...
- Yeah, I'm really sorry.
- I'm assuming you're looking into Baxter Wells. - Payton worked with him a lot, yeah?
- Baxter was his mentor when he first got his real-estate licence.
But honestly, half of it was what not to do.
- Tell me about that. - Baxter would rip him off, use him.
He'd get Payton to do mail drops,
promise that if they landed a listing, they'd share it.
Except when they did, he'd say the vendors only wanted him.
- And if his name wasn't on the listing, he didn't get a share of the commission.
- Exactly. All that work for nothing.
- OK, but recently, Payton had his own listings, right?
- Yeah, once he finally got a foot in the door.
People loved him ― he was honest, he went the extra mile.
- So why do you think that Baxter would wanna hurt Payton?
- He couldn't handle that he was more successful.
Or he was after Payton's listings ― he literally got them after he died.
- And what about the scandal?
The old woman next door said that Payton caught Baxter
entertaining a lady friend in the house.
- He... He didn't say anything to me.
- Well, he told his bosses ― Baxter was disciplined over it.
Why do you think he never mentioned it to you?
- Because he knew how I'd react.
I kept telling him to change agencies to get away from Baxter.
- Why? - Because Baxter hated Payton's guts.
- So, the night off, Baxter Wells did a mail drop of all his cheesy flyers, right?
- On this very street. - And your team door-knocked,
to make sure that all the residents received them, yes?
- You know they did. - But there's one thing your team didn't check ―
Baxter Wells' step count. - And I suppose you did. - Yeah.
I had Madison do a phone clone when he was in my bedroom this afternoon.
- Sorry. What? - (CHUCKLES)
Baxter's step count was 6243 for the day.
But look at this ― we're nearly at 6000,
and we've only done half the route that Baxter claimed he did.
So unless he laid down the rest of the day...
- Baxter gave a false alibi.
- Boom!
(GUITAR MUSIC)
- Oh. Bless you. - Mm-hm.
Hey, did you happen to check out Baxter's iCal?
Every Wednesday night, three hours blocked out.
- Including the night Payton died? - Uh-huh.
No note, no information, 5 o'clock until 8.
- Well, could he have blocked it out deliberately ― like, made it seem like he had a regular appointment?
- What, an even lamer attempt at an alibi than doing a mail drop?
- Speaking of lame, have you read his online customer reviews?
- Yeah. Five stars. - But I checked Baxter's browsing history, and guess what?
About six months ago, he hired a digital removal company.
- You're not talking about moving house?
- Mm-mm. There are businesses who can bury negative online reviews,
never to be seen again. - Unless some very clever person,
like my friend Madison, goes looking for them?
- Baxter's one-star reviews are coming to your inbox right now.
- (CELL PHONE BUZZES) - Mm. Uh, ooh. 'Untrustworthy.'
'Sleazy. Do not list your house with this man.'
It kind of seems like a targeted campaign.
- Agreed. The reviews are logged from Hamilton, Cambridge, Taupo.
- READS: Shark in a knockoff designer suit oozes sleaze.
Ooh. 'You can smell his aftershave from the South Island.'
No wonder he wanted to bury these. - Mm-hm.
- Oh, Baxter.
What else are you hiding?
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
- (SCOFFS) - Hey. - Oh, no, no. We're not interested.
- Oh, but these five-star reviews say you care. Are they not accurate?
- Can you please go away? - Perhaps these ones are closer to the mark.
Do you recognise them? You should do,
cos you paid a pretty penny to have them scrubbed off the interwebs.
- Well, I guess I'll be asking for a refund, then.
- Where were you the night that Payton died?
- I was delivering flyers.
- Now, you usually have a minion do that for you.
So where were you? - You know those reviews are fake, right?
Payton wrote them. - Payton didn't write these.
His girlfriend did.
- How do you know that? - Because they were posted from places all over the North Island,
and I know that Greta travels for work and she hates you.
- Bloody hell. - Baxter, you seem shaken.
Kill the wrong person ― is that it? - I didn't kill anyone.
- So, the Wednesday night when Payton died.
- I was delivering flyers. The police checked.
- And I checked and found that you
paid a kid $5 an hour to deliver them for you.
And $10 not to say anything about it.
- Ah, you're wrong. I didn't do that.
- Argh. What part was wrong? No, no, wait.
Uh, ah, you didn't pay anybody anything,
cos, let's face it, you're tight and you use people.
- Now you're mean, you're rude and you're wrong.
- No, no, not wrong. Because I had you going there for a minute, didn't I?
And your alibi is as flimsy as a '90s townhouse,
and we both know it.
- I wish I'd never bought this house. It's been a nightmare from day one.
Actually, do you mind if we don't go inside?
- Sure. Hey, can I ask you something?
How does somebody so youthful afford to buy a house like this?
What do you do? - Content creator.
- You must be nailing it. - Well, I mean, I had a bit of help ― the Bank of Mum and Dad.
- Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. So,
tell me about this place ― like, why is it such a nightmare?
- You mean, apart from the real-estate agent turning up dead in my pool?
- Apart from that.
- Well, there's also the ghost.
- Oh yeah. I've seen some of your footage online.
- Wait. You have? Did you, like? Did you subscribe?
- Uh, tell me more about this ghost.
- Haunted me every day and every night I was in that place.
It's back. I can hear the footsteps.
(DOOR SLAMS) Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh no!
- What do you think?
- Why am I still looking at this? - She's got other footage too ―
some weird scraping noises. - So she has rats.
- Ah, but she had an exterminator come out and check the ceiling space.
- You seriously want us to investigate a ghost?
- All I'm saying is, it could be fun. - Ooh. Gotta go.
- Go where? - It's Wednesday.
(FUNK MUSIC)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
(MUSIC FADES)
- OK. This ― this is too much.
- So, what are we here for? 12-step programme, is that it?
- Kia ora, everyone. Welcome. Oh, new face.
You're here for sensitivity training, yes?
- Sensitivity training, yes, I am.
- I'm sorry, Prue, um, I don't think she's supposed to be here.
- Oh. - Ah, I was kicked out of boxing class yesterday,
so I was born for sensitivity training.
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
- Well, hello.
- Take one of these and pass it on. Now,
this exercise is to improve our
awareness of our actions
and the emotions associated with them.
Because we're all emotional humans, right?
- Prue, I don't think that Alexa is aware of her emotions.
- Oh. - Did you know that every action is driven by an emotion?
For example, uh,
following someone to a peer support
group might be driven by desire.
- Desire to change. - Mm.
- More like unrequited lust.
- I don't think lust is an emotion. - Oh―
- Well, uh, then infatuation ― feelings you can't control.
- Is Baxter flirting with me? Cos is that a sensitive thing to do, Bax?
- OK, no. Get this ― she calls me, up all sweet and nice.
She invites me over to her place, and in her bedroom, she slam dunks me.
- Well, not in the biblical sense.
And he was only there to take a look, not do anything else.
By the way, Baxter, this is called 'consequences of your actions'.
- Oh, I know about consequences.
Why do you think I'm in this god-awful course with these crushingly dull do-gooders?
Because my bosses made me. I hate every second of it.
And by the way, Prue, I wasn't paying attention,
and, no, I haven't learned anything.
Unbelievable. - So, we get kicked out of sensitivity training.
It'll make a good story one day. - I had three more sessions.
100% attendance for the last three months―
- If you were here the night that Payton died,
then why not just be honest with the police? Why make up all this stuff about the mail drop?
- Like, doing this sort of course, it's not a good look.
- No, lying to the police is not a good look. - Well, now you know the truth.
- So you would rather be accused of murder than admit to― - OK! I didn't like Payton, OK?
I begged him not to tell my bosses about me and my girlfriend,
but he was just such a little suck-up. He just kept banging on about the code of ethics.
- Yeah, the pesky code of ethics.
- He just wanted to take me down. But I didn't kill him.
(DOOR SHUTS)
(CELL PHONE RINGS)
- Hiya. - Hey. Where are you?
- Are you checking up on me?
- Of course not. Hey, how was the house?
- Oh, you mean the cute little Art Deco place?
- Yeah, the one that's probably got toxic mould in the ceiling ― that one.
- Alexa, you don't want me moving out, do you?
- Why do you say a thing like that?
- You like having me around. Just admit it.
- Well, if I hated it, I would have gotten rid of you two years ago.
- I'm at the library.
I looked up the council records and found something out about the murder house.
- Hmm? - It was a house of ill repute.
There was a very famous madam who lived there for 45 years.
- She's still alive? - No, she died in 1983.
The house was sold, and then sold again.
And again and again.
- You're not gonna tell me that this madam is haunting the house, are you?
- Look, I am aware that there is no
universally accepted definition for a ghost,
but, I mean, it's interesting, right? - Well,
we'll argue about it when you get home.
- (BEEP!) - You know, I don't know how I've
managed to live with her all this time.
- Here we go. Madam Lorelle herself.
- Hmm. OK, she never married,
didn't have any children. Oh, died penniless,
and the house was repossessed by the bank.
- Gotta admit, if there was evidence of the existence of ghosts,
this woman would definitely be the type to walk the rooms of her former parlour.
- A human being killed Payton. - All right. You wanna know something else?
The original plans show a whole other wing that isn't there any more,
because it was destroyed by fire in 1910.
- No one died. - That we know of.
Oh, please. That place has super-haunty vibes.
(CELL-PHONE DINGS) Oh, you're such a buzzkill.
Ooh, Sage just posted new content.
- Hey, guys. Welcome to my new channel, Haunted AF.
This week ― my own lived experience.
- A ghost-hunting channel?
- So, it all started the very first night I moved in.
Before I even had a chance to plan my housewarming,
a malicious ghost started hounding me out of my new home.
Let me bring you in.
- Is it too Gen-X of me to say, 'Get a real job'?
- Uh, Sage, I don't think she needs a real job ―
she's a trust-fund kid. - This is about as close as I get,
because inside, there are evil secrets.
And, you know, I feel so lucky to be standing where I am today,
because one person wasn't so lucky.
My real-estate agent, Payton Green,
walked into this house one dark night and never left.
Payton's murder is still unsolved. And why?
Because you cannot catch what you cannot see.
- Someone's making money out of murder.
- Did she kill him for content? Is that a motive?
- Look, I'm the wrong generation to put a valuation on clicks,
but it's not entirely implausible, is it?
- I guess it makes more sense than a ghost.
- No, don't make me go in there. - You are exploiting a young guy's death.
- I am trying to solve a genuine horror story.
- Yeah, or add value to the house ― six bedrooms, three bathrooms and one ghost.
- No. No way. This place is definitely haunted.
- Well, prove it. We're going in.
- Hey, are we going in? - Oh my God. Fine.
- Excuse me! Excuse me. - Hi, Leslie.
- Excuse me, Officer. I need to report something.
- Detective ― retired. - WHISPERS: Oh.
I think the chap across the street
is receiving stolen goods.
- Hey, Leslie. - Mm-hm. - You've lived here a long time.
- Mm. Since I was a girl.
- Do you remember Lorelle who lived here?
- Remember her? Oh,
she was like another mother to me.
- Well, you know, she ran kind of a colourful business.
- (GIGGLES)
A brothel.
The street was very different back then.
- See, I've been reading some police reports,
and apparently Madam Lorelle went to court five times,
charged with brothel keeping.
But she was only ever done for black-market booze and cigarettes.
- Oh, look, the police were raiding her place all the time.
The blokes used to scatter off into the night.
Ma'am and I hid the girls in our sitting room.
That was my childhood ― making cups of tea and playing cards
with Lorelle's ladies of the night.
- Really? - I loved it.
Never a dull moment.
- Leslie, do you mind if I visit you sometime?
- Oh. Please do. I'll put the kettle on,
and you and I can chat about how the police are gonna tackle this problem
of the ram-raiders. - (CHUCKLES)
Sage, I see you installed security cameras at the frontandthe back.
- Yeah, I lived alone. I wanted to feel safe.
- Yet those cameras were running 24-7,
and they never captured anybody coming or going the night Payton died.
- (SCOFFS) Apparitions don't get caught on camera, Alexa.
- Yet, you did capture one being extremely noisy on your ghost-hunting channel.
- Yes, but not the physical embodiment.
- So, do you do all the editing and camerawork yourself?
- Well, of course.
- Maybe you doctored the security camera footage yourself.
- Are you trying to say that I covered something up?
- I'm just going down every road and seeing what happens at the end of it.
- Huh? Oh wait. I cannot believe this. I am actually the victim here.
- How do you figure that? - I've been haunted, I've been traumatised,
and my new home is a crime scene that I can't even sell.
- (DOOR SLAMS) - (GASPS)
- Alexa?
- (DOOR CREAKS) - (GASPS) WHISPERS: Oh my God! No. Stuff this.
I'm out! - Sage!
- Cooee! - Well, you scared the vendor off.
(DOOR CREAKS)
(FUNK MUSIC)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
- Yeah. OK, let's get this show on the road.
- Alexa, why would you do that?
- Well, ghosts only haunt in the dark, don't they?
- Sage reckons this one worked 24-7.
One time, she heard a crash, came into the kitchen,
and everything was out of the food cupboard ― in broad daylight.
- (GASPS) She get a photo of that? - I'd say she probably ran.
Alexa!
(EERIE MUSIC)
(THUNDER RUMBLES)
- (CELL PHONE KEYPAD CLICKS) - (HUMS)
WHISPERS: Oh!
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
(DOOR SLAMS)
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
- You are meant to go away from the freaking noise, not towards it.
- WHISPERS: That's not a very efficient way to catch a killer.
- Oh crap.
(FOOTSTEPS RETREAT)
- WHISPERS: No way. Come back here, ghostie.
(DOOR CREAKS)
(CLATTERING)
- What? You found something?
- WHISPERS: This place is haunted, all right,
but not by a ghost.
(FUNK MUSIC)
- I won't do the ghost-hunting channel any more, OK?
- Blood orange for you. - (GASPS) - Sorry about that.
- WHISPERS: It's OK. - And a latte. - Thanks, Reuben.
- (FOOTSTEPS RETREAT) - I can't even sleep any more.
I see shadows around every corner.
- When you disappeared the other night, where'd you go?
- To Mum and Dad's. - Did you?
- Yes. - Hmm.
- Why? Why are you staring like that?
- Well, you took off, and then the noises started.
- What noises?
- Were your mum and dad home when you got there?
- No. - Handy.
- OK. How would I have even got back inside the house
without you or Madison seeing me, or the cameras?
- I'm working on it.
- It's all changed, of course, these days.
There was a plum tree right where the swimming pool is.
Ooh, I remember when the previous owners put it in.
They craned it right over the top of the house.
(CHUCKLES) What a sight!
- Would Madam Lorelle be turning in her grave with all the changes to her house?
- She'd love it. - Yeah?
- She'd be throwing legendary pool parties.
- Gosh, this is a nice piece, isn't it?
- It's not very practical,
but it's got great sentimental value.
- Now all it needs a couple of classy owners.
I think I just found them.
(CHUCKLES) You're not allowed to be here.
I have a trespass order.
- Oh, yes, but a trespass order is voided if the person who lodged it
invites the person who received it. - Yeah, I didn't invite you, so...
- WHISPERS: Oh, I beg to differ.
- Please, Alexa, I...
WHISPERS: I have buyers here. - WHISPERS: I can see that.
WHISPERS: So either we can make a scene, or you can leave me alone,
so that nobody knows. I'm looking into the very recent
and very unsolved murder, which happened in this beautiful character villa―
- WHISPERS: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- WHISPERS: Thank you.
OK. I'm entering the bedroom wing and the middle bedroom.
Measurements?
- 4m by 4m.
- You know, somewhere along the line,
this room went from being a square to a rectangle.
It's missing half the room. - A built-in wardrobe?
- No, just a wall.
Ooh. Thanks, Mads.
(KICK ECHOES)
Ah. (CHUCKLES, SIGHS)
Sturdy as ever, these old villas.
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)
Now we're getting somewhere.
No. Oh God.
Oh! Oh.
(SIGHS)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
(STEPS CREAK)
- And obviously a built-in wine fridge.
(CLATTERING)
- Narnia was not at all what I expected.
Over to you.
- Oh my God. I bought the creepiest house in Auckland.
- Hey, just wanna to zip it, cos I've got buyers inside.
- Leslie, you said that Madam Lorelle got raided all the time.
Is it possible that she had secret passages built to hide the girls,
the customers? - Wouldn't put it past her.
She was a smart lady, a clever businesswoman.
- What if this Lorelle is still hanging around, haunting people?
- Keeping her eye on things?
She was a woman of many secrets. - Not any more.
The police will be crawling through those tunnels and rooms tomorrow,
probably throw up a lot of forensic evidence.
- Ew. Really? Like what?
- Fingerprints and so on.
- So I'm guessing that we're gonna cancel the open home for tomorrow,
or...
- Argh! Why couldn'tIhave been there when you found the secret basement?
And also, why would you go into a secret basement alone? Like, who does that?
Someone that hasn't watched enough horror movies ― that's who.
- I had a phone torch.
- Oh, you have such a casual attitude. - Yeah, well, that casual attitude
just found us the way that the killer got into the house unseen and the place that Paytondied.
- See, Payton shouldn't have gone in there either.
Wait. Why did he? - Catch a ghost?
- Oh, so now thereisa ghost? - Ah, therewasa ghost.
And I'm very much looking forward to meeting him.
- How are you going...? You're going into the basement alone again, aren't you?
- I'm fairly confident, Madison, that I will not be alone,
and if I've done my job right, the killer will be right there with me.
(FUNK MUSIC)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
Hello, Les.
- Ah, so it's true ―
the tunnels.
I thought I'd come and see for myself.
- Madam Lorelle was a genius.
But, of course, you've always known that.
You've spent quite a lot of time down there, haven't you?
Well, of course, you've got your own entrance.
- No, I've only just―
- You know, this place was twice the size,
before a fire burnt down an entire wing.
Your house was built in 1950,
where the rest of this house once stood.
It was built on the basement ―
a basement that both houses then shared.
- Really? A fire?
Oh, I'd no idea.
- Come, now.
How do you think those ladies of the night escaped your house for cups of tea
when the police raided without being seen?
- I'm not a young woman any more, Alexa ―
my memory isn't what it used to be.
- Sharp as a tack ― said it yourself.
- Why would I want to come in here and scare people? Huh?
- Yeah, I wondered myself. At first I thought,
'Maybe she just doesn't like the neighbours.'
I mean, fair ― I don't like most people myself.
But then I realised it's not about the people living here now ―
It's about the person who lived here long ago ―
Madam Lorelle.
- What about her? - I mean,
the records say that Madam Lorelle died without a penny to her name,
but that doesn't make any sense. I mean, look at the images here ―
the clothes, the furniture. This woman had style and money,
didn't she, Les ? - I wouldn't know.
- Come on. You were close.
And she gave you that beautiful bureau desk.
I saw it here in the book, and I saw it at your house.
- Mm. I'd always admired it.
It was a very kind gesture.
- What did she do with the rest of the money?
Did she hide it? Did she tell you where to find it?
What did she tell you ― that she'd hidden it behind a fake wall,
something like that? - WHISPERS: How...
How could you know that?
- WHISPERS: Oh.
Oh bless.
No wonder Sage thought her house was haunted ―
there was a selfish old woman creeping around inside the walls,
looking for buried treasure.
You know, owner after owner felt this place gave them a bad vibe.
You made them feel unsafe in their own home!
- I never bothered anybody.
- WHISPERS: If you'd only been quieter,
then Payton Green wouldn't have heard you.
(DOOR SLAMS)
He wouldn't have gone to investigate the weird noise.
(EERIE MUSIC)
He wouldn't have found the stairs down to the secret basement.
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
- (GASPS)
I never pushed the lad.
SOBS: I never pushed him.
- It was an accident, was it? - Mm.
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
- Whatever happened, Payton ended up broken at the bottom of the stairs.
But it's what you did next that matters.
You knew where the blind spot was and that the back camera wouldn't catch you.
Somehow, you dragged him and dumped him in the pool.
You hoped people would think that he'd fallen and hit his head on the way down.
Pulling the cover over him was a mistake.
Was it the guilt,
what you'd done to an innocent young man,
you couldn't bear to look?
Here's your ghost, Harry.
- Hello. - Oh, one more thing,
Leslie. Maybe you should have tried the back of that tiny cupboard
in the bureau she gave you.
I think maybe it was under your nose the entire time.
- Oh.
If only I'd known.
- You would have been out of here?
- No. I've never lived anywhere else.
- Well, that might be about to change.
(FUNK MUSIC)
- I used to work at this hotel restaurant back in my hospo days,
and they say it was haunted by an angry maitre d' from back in the 1920s.
- Ooh, I would go to that restaurant 100%.
- And if you're lucky, Sage can review it for her new channel.
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
- (KNOCKING) - Expecting someone?
- Everybody I like in Auckland's already here.
- (CHUCKLES)
- Here's your appraisal.
- Thank you, Baxter. - And, uh, a little gift from me.
You know, when you do decide to sell this place, you should call me.
I'm your guy. - All is forgiven, huh?
- Not really a grudge holder. And, um, so,
I was thinking maybe I could take you out for a drink one night?
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
- You want an answer? Tyler Wicks belongs in prison.
He put that poisonous plant in Louie's food.
- Death by stir-fry. It's kind of in your wheelhouse, Alexa.
- Maybe you just don't wanna be the only one that Reuben blames when you arrest his mate.
Reuben, you're not going in that house.
- I'm already there. - All right, then she's going with you.
- Louie was an entitled snot stain.
- Sometimes people get what they deserve.
- I need you to get me something.
- Hello. - Consider this a first warning.
- You actually made a murder suspect cry.
- Did I? Jury's out.
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