(FUNK MUSIC)
- Hey, you. Yes, you. No, you―
No, you don't. No feeding the swans. There are signs everywhere.
- I wasn't feeding the swans. I'm just admiring them.
- It's bad for them. Malnutrition, obesity, disease;
not to mention the pollution in the lake. - I'm well aware of that.
- Are you? Are you aware of what I have to pull out of this lake every single week?
I've got a shed full of it ― plastic bottles, car tyres.
I found an ironing board in there last week. An ironing board.
- Now, I don't like ironing either, but that's going too far.
- An Exercycle, several mattresses ― you name it, it's been dumped in the lake.
- Then I commend you on doing a very difficult,
but very necessary, job. - Well, I appreciate that.
Now hand over the bread.
- Oh, no. - I'm not having you feed the swans the second I turn my back.
- I wasn't going to. - No, you're not, because I'm gonna take that bread.
- I don't think so.
Sorry I'm late, guys. Someone fell in the duck pond.
- What, and you had to rescue them? - Yeah, let's go with that version.
- See ya, bro. - See ya.
- You might have heard of this one.
One pretty ballerina, Isabel Fray.
- Oh, looks like she's dancing Swan Lake. Oh, that's uncanny.
- You know about ballet?
- Don't look so surprised, Harry. I've got many strings to my bow.
- Strange you should mention bows.
- Why? - Isabel was found with two arrows in her back,
at Pilkington Dance Academy, six weeks ago.
- It's really poetic. - I don't get it. Why is it poetic?
- Because in Swan Lake, the handsome prince nearly shoots the swan,
who is really the beautiful Princess Odette.
And only true love can save her from the bad spell.
Wasn't there some other dancer in the frame? - There was ―
Damon Kennedy. - Oh, our handsome prince.
Yeah, definitely got good form. - Oh, keep your mind on the job.
- Ballet form, you grub. why is he main suspect?
- Because the night Isabel was killed,
Damon sent her a text to meet up for an unscheduled rehearsal.
- Rehearsal for what? - Some sort of big audition she had.
Around 7.30, Isabel was at the Academy.
She posted some selfies around the same time.
- So, obviously, you checked the recently deleted photos.
- Yeah, we did ― nothing there.
We think that she was busy posting when whoever it was arrived.
- And a swan will never turn back into a princess.
- No. - OK, why haven't you arrested Damon?
- Because he denies sending the texts.
He's got a solid-ish alibi.
He was with another dancer at a hotel.
- Oh. The plot thickens.
- The lovely Penelope. She's also a lead dancer at Pilkington.
She and Damon were seen arriving at the hotel around 6pm.
And then they didn't check out till the next morning, so...
- So you're stuck? - Mm.
- Give me that file. - Really? That was easy.
- Well, it's ballet, Harry. And a man in tights.
- (CHUCKLES)
Captions by Faith Hamblyn.
Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air.
www.able.co.nz Copyright Able 2024.
- The victim, Isabel, didn't have a job.
She lived with her dad in the family mansion.
- Look, she was too busy to have a job. I mean, look at this ―
she's skiing, surfing, pottery classes.
- Oh, and don't forget ballet.
Did you know she was preparing for a really big audition for a London dance company at the time she died?
- Yeah, just reading about that now.
- You know, in terms of premeditation, this case is a big one.
Poor old Odette didn't stand a chance.
- You mean Isabel?
- No. Odette is the princess in Swan Lake.
- Oh, and I was supposed to know that ― how? - You're as bad as Harry.
Anyway, the point is, the police never found the bow.
The arrows are traced to an archery club back west, where Damon and Isabel both took lessons.
- Oh, come on, tell me why Harry hasn't arrested this guy, again.
- Little thing called an alibi.
Plus, Damon was injured at the time ―
these two fingers were all bunged up. - Yeah, confirmed via medical report.
It's convenient timing, though. - Yes, it is,
but do you think it would be possible to shoot a bow well,
or at all, with these two fingers missing?
- I'll find out. I always wanted to give archery a go,
ever since I watched The Hunger Games.
Ooh, actually, do you wanna come with me? It could be fun. - No. You go.
I need to find out if this ballerina has any other enemies.
- I'm, uh... I'm Caitlin, Isabel's sister.
- I'm very sorry for your loss. - Thanks. Yeah.
It's, uh... It's been a bit much.
- No doubt. I thought that Isabel lived here alone with her father.
- Well, she did, but he, uh... he has dementia.
Izzy used to take care of him,
and now, here I am.
But, uh, he keeps asking for her,
and I've told him, but he...
he can't retain that kind of information.
You know. - It must be so hard.
- Yeah. The first few times, I reminded him,
but it was like he was...
hearing it for the first time.
And now I just say, um... just say she's out ―
can't bear to break his heart over and over again.
So, please, tell me you're here to make my day ― you've...
you've made an arrest? - Well, we're working on it.
I'm a fresh pair of eyes, in case the police missed anything.
- Well, they appear to have missed the fact that Damon Kennedy messaged my sister,
lured her to the studio late at night and put two arrows in her back.
- Right.
Can you tell me why Damon would want to hurt Isabel?
- I mean, I wouldn't have a clue ― I never met him.
- Was there anyone else in Isabel's life who was giving her trouble?
- Everyone loved Izzy.
Uh, to be honest, I haven't been around much.
- Because? - I, uh, have my own business.
You know, it's been a real juggle. And, yes,
I probably should have checked in on Izzy and Dad more, but I...
I didn't realise how hard it was for her here with Dad.
- Isabel! Izzy! - (SIGHS) Oh my God.
- Hey, uh, I'm gonna try to get closure for you and for Isabel.
- Thank you. I'd like that.
WHISPERS: Excuse me. - WHISPERS: Mm-hm. Yeah.
(FUNK MUSIC)
(USB CLICKS)
- Hello? - Oh, hi.
I was just looking to see if there was a bell or anything to let you know I'm here, but...
Ding-dong. (GIGGLES)
- How can I help you? - Oh, look, I'm keen to do some archery.
- Hmm. Any experience? - None, but tons of enthusiasm.
I wanna embrace my inner― - ...Katniss.
- Well, who doesn't love the Hunger Games?
- So, we focus mostly on target archery,
but we encourage our athletes to try field archery too.
- Great. - We shoot compound and recurve bows,
and we cater for juniors, seniors,
beginners and advanced athletes.
- What kind of bow would shoot these arrows?
- Probably more of a recurve bow. Why?
- I just like the look of them. - Well, you're not gonna to start on a recurve.
Sure, beginners are drawn to them, because they wanna be Robin Hood or...
Katniss, but no.
- OK, recurve equals harder.
But could I have a go anyway?
I promise I'm not just a Hunger Games stan. Who knows ―
you could be looking at your next Olympic archer.
- OK, so, you wanna get your upper body, there, into position. - BOTH: Hey.
- Ooh! I didn't actually mean to do that, but it was good, right?
I mean, I almost hit it. - No.
No, that was not good.
(STRING CREAKS) What are you doing?
- Would someone like you be able to shoot without using these two fingers?
- Why would I want to? - For fun.
- Is this about the old story,
about the English taunting their enemies in the Hundred Years' War?
If we catch you, we will cut off your fingers,
so you will no longer be able to draw your bow.
- That's where that gesture came from?
- No, it's a myth. - Oh.
So you can't properly shoot without using your two...?
- Hey, stop! Stop, stop! - Ooh!
Oops.
So the bad news is I'm not allowed back at the archery club
unless I take a basic health and safety course.
But the good news is I didn't hit anything sentient.
- So Damon would have to be a really skilled archer,
to shoot Isabel with only three working fingers?
- Yeah, it's harder than it looks to shoot with all five.
Plus, I found out the shooter would have used a traditional bow, which is more difficult.
- But we know he took lessons. - A beginner's course, yeah, with Isabel.
But that's only six lessons. - All right, we've gotta get in
and take a good look at that club booking system.
- Easy ― once I'm allowed back. - Here we are ― Pilkington Dance Academy.
- Bad flashbacks? - No, my ballet mistress was warm and fuzzy.
- Aw. - Yeah, not at all like the cliche of a nasty old spinster,
with a tight bun, yelling at everyone. - Hmm.
- What is wrong with you today, Damon? Focus, please.
And again. Encore.
Damon, focus.
Lift. What is that?
(SCOFFS) Oh. Where are you today? That will do. Go on.
You've embarrassed yourself enough. - WHISPERS: Our prime suspect is a bit stressed.
- What have you done to your bun, Grace? No, not you ― the other Grace.
Grace P or... F.
Dismissed. Mia, lead them out.
Tippy toes. Tippy toes. Shoulders down.
- Cynthia Pilkington? Hi. I'm, uh, Alexa Crowe.
- This is a private rehearsal. - Oh, we're here to enrol in a class.
- We don't have recreational classes for adults, only for children.
- Yeah, but no, for my kid. - I have one vacancy in my under-6 class.
- Perfect. Because Grace is 5.
- Oh, please. Not another Grace.
- It's a very popular name.
- There were three Madisons in my class in high school.
- So can we take a look around? - No. You can't;
you can enrol online. And just so you know,
my academy is not the place for dabblers who just want to have fun.
- No. Heaven help the kid who just wants to have fun.
My Grace ― serious as a heart attack.
- Online. Goodbye.
Goodbye.
- Really? You gonna put Chowder in a tutu and hope nobody notices the whiskers?
- Hey, if anyone can pull off having a fake kid, it's me.
- (GIGGLES) I can't wait to see that.
(FUNK MUSIC)
(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)
- Loving the props. - WHISPERS: Oh, yes, I fit right in.
Whereas you look like the weirdo in the ballet class with no kid.
- How can you say that to Grace's favourite auntie?
Fair. - Enough chat. Time for work.
Come to position, please.
First position. Bras bas.
Tendu. Arms at second.
No, no, no, no, no! Vanessa.
Everyone turn around. Vanessa.
Have a look at what she's doing. Parfait, me petite.
Uh, Delilah.
(THUD!) Is that tomato sauce I see on your leotard?
Mothers, what have I said about junk food ―
no, no, no.
Read the newsletter.
- In this day and age? Really? - First position.
Bras bas. Tendu.
Arms at second. Ah! Parfait, mes cheries!
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
(CLICK!)
(CELL PHONES BEEP RHYTHMICALLY)
(PAGES RUSTLE)
(DOOR SQUEAKS)
- Oh, hi. Something tells me I'm in the wrong room.
- You are. - I saw you dancing yesterday.
You're so talented. Have you and your partner been together long?
- Uh, since we were pre-schoolers.
Girls' bathroom ― down the hall.
- Thanks.
- Oh, sorry. Bathroom? - Uh, it's my dressing room.
- Actually, while I'm here. My name's Alexa,
and I'm helping the police with their enquiries into Isabel Fray's death.
Can I ask you a few questions? - No, sorry.
- I'm sure you're just as keen as I am to find out who really killed her.
- Apparently, you people think my friend Damon did it.
- Well, it was quite a lot of evidence against him, you know?
Text messages on his phone; a couple of arrows in her back,
and he had taken an archery course.
- He was doing that for a dance piece with Isabel. It was her idea.
- Oh, so they spent quite a lot of time together?
- Not really. She gave up after two lessons ― said it ruined her nails,
and then Damon broke his fingers.
- Medical report said he slammed them in a car door.
- If you already know, why are you asking me?
- Yeah, you volunteered it ― I didn't ask.
- Damon didn't do anything, OK?
He didn't message her or come here that night ―
he was with me. - In a hotel.
- Teaching at 6 ― stayed there all night.
- What was the occasion ― you know, fancy hotel?
Or do you and Damon do that all the time?
- It was... our anniversary.
- Which one? - Four.
Are we done now?
- Nice talking to you, Penelope.
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
(FUNK MUSIC)
- What's with the lunchbox? I don't remember saying
this place was a BYO.
- Oh, it's Grace's. - Yeah, don't ask.
- Just be grateful that I didn't send an actual child to that school of horrors.
- I don't wanna know. - Fair call. - Hey, Harry.
- Hi. All right.
So, this Damon Kennedy ― are we barking up the right tree?
- Well, we know that he and Penelope were not telling the truth about why they were at the hotel.
- Oh, you noticed that too? They're not sleeping together. - Totally not.
- Childhood friends. No bang, bang. - They told you that?
- No. Didn't have to. It's just a vibe.
So Damon and Penelope were definitely lying about why they went to the hotel,
but they did check in at 6pm.
- So if they weren't there for bang, bang, what were they there for?
- An alibi. Two, actually. - Ah.
So you think Damon― - BOTH: ...didn't do it alone.
(FUNK MUSIC)
- OK. Room 402.
- Every time I'm in a hotel, I keep thinking about the killers
who might be lurking in the corridors.
- It's a dark and musty place, your mind, isn't it?
- You have no idea.
- Oh, here they are. 6.03pm.
- OK. And Damon sent a text at...
6.17, 'Do you want another rehearsal tonight?'
She replies she can't. He says,...
'Come on, we really need it.' And she gives in and says, 'I'll meet you at 7.'
- Yeah, see, but check this out. They're ordering room service,
at 6.21pm, according to the receipt.
Side salad, pina colada, sparkling water, chicken wrap,
cheeseburger. - Why are they ordering food when they're heading out to kill Isabel?
- Yeah. And also, how did they get out?
I mean, I'm assuming that Room 402 is on the fourth floor.
And look, nobody goes in or out of that hotel room,
until 10 o'clock the next morning.
- There's no mention of any other way down from the fourth floor ―
there's no open windows, there's no fire escape.
But, by jingoes, they look guilty.
(CRUNCHES)
WHISPERS: Oh, perfect. - Can we take the little soaps? I love the little soaps.
- No, the environment doesn't. Cover for me,
would you?
(DOOR BEEPS)
Uh-huh. - You know, we could have just asked reception to let us in.
- See how long that line was? - Non-opening windows,
and quite the drop.
Interconnecting rooms, so they rented both rooms,
went out and back in again through the one next door?
- I'm leaning towards not having left at all. - Hmm.
- Would you look at that? Cheeseburger comes with fries and gravy.
- Yum. - Yeah, but not when you're one of Cynthia's dancers ―
I mean, fries are a punishable offence, even if you're 5 years old.
- Body-shaming bag. - And you add a pina colada, what have you got?
- A room-service receipt that doesn't make much sense.
- Unless Penelope and Damon had a visitor from next door.
Question is, who?
And I want a room with a sweeping view.
- We have city-view rooms or harbour-view rooms.
- Well, I wanna see the Opera House. - Which Opera House is that?
- Theopera house ― iconic,
down by the water? - Sydney Opera House?
You can't see that from New Zealand.
We have a Harbour Bridge.
- I prefer a mountain range. - Sometimes,
you can see dolphins in the harbour ―
they're quite far away, but if you squint.
- I quite like dolphins, actually. - So you'll take the harbour-view room?
- I'm gonna think about it, but I wanna commend you on being excellent at your job.
- You're welcome.
- Again, we could have just asked to see their bookings,
but it wouldn't have been anywhere near as much fun. - (CHUCKLES)
So, who was staying in the room next to our dancers?
- Mr B von Rothbart stayed one night, paid in cash, didn't order any room―
- Baron Von Rothbart?
- What, who's the Baron? Oh, it's a fake name, isn't it?
Some character from a book I haven't read or a movie I haven't seen.
- Baron Von Rothbart is the evil magician in Swan Lake,
otherwise known as Mr Cheeseburger and Pina Colada.
- No luck yet? - I'm going right back now,
because apparently the Baron had an early check-in.
Oh, OK. Here comes someone.
- What's with the costume? - Either someone's pranking us or...
- Wait. Pause.
Just zoom in by the boot.
Is that a cane? - It could be.
- Cynthia.
Why would Cynthia wanna get rid of Isabel?
And if all three of them were in it together,
why go to the trouble of meeting in a hotel?
- Hold the bus ― leaving at 8 o'clock.
Gotcha. - If he left the hotel room at 8 o'clock,
Isabel was killed half an hour earlier.
- Unless Harry's team got the timing wrong. - How long was he out for?
- Stand by.
Do you think that Damon and Penelope hired a hitman?
- Well, maybe, but first time I've heard of a hitman in a cape.
- Well, he used a bow and arrow ― maybe being theatrical is his thing.
All right, here he comes. 20 past midnight.
- Where were you all those hours, Mr Baron Von Mystery Man?
- Hmm. We know that he was connected to Damon and Penelope.
- Send me a picture of his face ―
I love a good game of join the dots.
- Five, six, seven, eight.
Plie and straight. No, no, no, no!
Do you want to be in this class or not? Everyone, look at Vanessa.
Vanessa. Perfect.
That's what I want.
- WHISPERS: Way to turn Vanessa into a little monster.
WHISPERS: Know what I'm saying?
WHISPERS: Are you Vanessa's mum? Yeah.
WHISPERS: Good work (!)
WHISPERS: Oh, hey. Hey, Penelope.
WHISPERS: Hi. Where's Damon?
- Not here. And he doesn't need anyone else bothering him, and neither do I.
- Oh, well, hang on. I was just gonna take a sec.
Who's this? - I've never seen him before.
- Cos he was staying in the hotel room next to yours
the night that Isabel was murdered ―
you know, the one with the interconnecting door?
-I don't know him. OK?
- WHISPERS: Oh, I think you do.
- Find anything out about the Baron? - No,
but I'm guessing you did. - Oh, babe, I only created a
whole little dossier on Mr Augustus Burns.
- Is that even a real name? - Yeah, it is.
I ran our image through a facial-recognition programme, and even though it was a little rough,
I got a match confirmed via a tiny dip into immigration and border control.
- So I guess Mr Burns is not from around here.
- Nope. He's American.
Arrived in New Zealand on the morning of the murder,
Checked into the hotel early, as we know,
and probably had a little nap.
- And then a burger with some dancers?
- Mm-hm. And guess what Augustus does for a living.
- Hitman.
Oh.
Dance Academy. So the meeting was ballet-related. Why all the secrecy?
- I'm gathering CCTV footage from the network,
as we speak.
And what about you? - Penelope lied to me today,
so I'm gonna be on her tail.
And I don't think it'd be very nice to have me on your tail.
(JAZZ MUSIC)
Hey. - No, I'm on my way somewhere.
- And I'll let you go as soon as you tell me ―
who is Augustus Burns to you and Damon?
I know you know him. - WHISPERS: We had a meeting with him,
but I can't talk about it here.
- Where did he go for 3.5 hours on the night that you guys met?
- A karaoke bar. - By himself?
- WHISPERS: It's his thing ― I don't know. Can I go now?
- Are you bailing on Cynthia, Penelope ―
moving to the US to start dancing―?
- Oh, my God, can you stop?
- You're so frightened of cane-tapping old Cynthia
finding out that you're leaving?
WHISPERS: What do you think she's gonna do?
WHISPERS: What do you think? Look at Isabel.
She was auditioning for London, and Cynthia was oh, so supportive.
- WHISPERS: Wait. You think Cynthia killed Isabel?
- WHISPERS: And I really don't want to be next,
so, please, don't talk to me again.
- What Penelope says checks out ―
Augustus Burns is living his best life,
at Bar of the Stars Karaoke Club.
- For 3.5 hours straight? - He's having a good time in a city where no one knows him.
I just wish there were sound. - I don't get it.
If Penelope and Damon were moving to Philadelphia, why go to the trouble of killing Isabel?
Why not just leave?
Any update on the mystery text from Damon's phone?
- Not yet. (SIGHS) - I guess it doesn't matter ―
it's not like he sent them. But whoever did,
what kind of technical skills would they have to have? - Well, SIM jacking is a thing.
Somebody sends a spyware programme via SMS,
the user opens it, and suddenly, they've got a little parasite living in their phone,
looking at messages, listening to calls.
- I guess the moral of the story is don't open every text.
- Well, even simpler, the attacker can just call up your mobile provider
and have your number transferred to their SIM. - What?
- Yeah. - Without answering security questions, that'd be hard.
- Well, not if your social media's an open book.
- All right. Trawl through Damon's.
Make sure he hasn't been bandying his mother's maiden name around.
- OK. Poor Isabel.
She was so graceful. - Meh, not really ― very average.
- Mean. - Seriously. Check it out. Bad posture.
Poor head placement, not listening to the music ― goes on.
- To a layperson, she's good. - Well, Cynthia's not a layperson.
So why would she think that Isabel would stand a chance
of getting into a London ballet company?
(DRAMATIC CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
- WHISPERS: I've asked and asked if you want to talk anywhere but here.
- Just relax. Cynthia's taking the junior class.
Plus, she thinks I'm a dance mum, so you're safe.
- It's OK, Damon. Alexa is leaving.
- Would you say that Cynthia was particularly tech savvy?
- She runs the Academy's website,
social-media accounts ― she knows her way around the computer.
- That's good. - Is that it? - So, if Cynthia killed Isabel,
why would she frame you, Damon? - I have no idea.
- She didn't have suspicions about the move to Philadelphia?
- No. We've been too careful.
- Just one more thing. I've seen videos of Isabel dancing ―
not very good. And come on, you can be honest with me ―
saying she was an average dancer is being kind.
How come she got a chance at London and you didn't?
- One of life's great mysteries.
- Pennie's a hundred times the dancer Isabel was.
- Yeah, agreed. Anyone can see it.
Why couldn't Cynthia?
- Cynthia's taught us since we were kids.
She was scary then ― she's scarier now.
But with Isabel, she was different ―
she let her get away with...
(SIGHS) I was gonna say murder.
- Almost like Isabel had something over Cynthia.
- So you believe me now? She had something to do with what happened.
- I'll get back to you on that.
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
(TINKLY MUSIC)
- Ruby, who did your ballet bun? Your fatheragain?
Did he watch a YouTube tutorial?
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
(PAPERS RUSTLE)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
- (SIGHS)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
Vanessa.
- (DOOR SHUTS) - News just in ―
Damon's phone was definitely hijacked by a third-party app;
he didn't send those text messages. - Can you tell who did?
- Not without the hijacker's device.
Cynthia's phone? - Grace took it. She's very naughty.
- Aw, when I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend to blame things on too.
I'll check it out when I get back. - From?
- The archery club has finally let me go back.
- Ooh, hey. Take a look at the booking system ―
see if Cynthia ever took lessons there.
- You sure you know all the safety rules?
- Did I not get every single question right, Curtis?
I'm ready.
- OK. Looking good.
- Did you ever have a Cynthia Pilkington come and practice here?
- Who? - A mean-looking woman with a tight bun.
She runs a ballet academy, possibly had a cane.
- No, I never met her. There was a woman here from a ballet school,
though. She was about to do Swan Lake. Yeah. - Yeah, that'd be Isabel Fray.
- Yeah, that was her. She was really good. Hey. Down. Oi.
- Sorry. I was told that Isabel didn't finish the course.
- Oh, the guy didn't finish ― he'd bailed before I started here,
but Isabel carried on. She even did a couple of extra lessons.
Then she just stopped coming.
- Well, because she died. You must have heard about it. - No.
- Someone is killed with a bow and arrow, and the archery guy doesn't hear about it?
- Will you please watch where you are pointing that thing?
- Sorry.
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)
(THUD!)
It was all right.
- So, Isabel did finish the archery course?
- According to my new best friend, Curtis.
Well, I say best friend, but he is slightly scared of me.
- Why would Damon and Penelope say that she dropped out?
- Well, maybe they didn't know that she carried on.
I don't get the feeling that they were especially close.
- Right. - (KNOCK AT THE DOOR)
- Who the heck's that?
Why, Cynthia. To what do we owe this pleasure?
- I want my phone back, now.
- Yeah, I guess I did accidentally pick it up, huh?
- Just like youaccidentally found yourself in my office.
Little Vanessa saw you coming out of there.
- Ah, so, teacher's pet and a nark, huh? - Sorry about the misunderstanding.
- Thank you. Oh,...
is Grace home?
- Yeah. - No.
- I thought so. I cross-referenced the enrolments. There is no Grace.
- Oh, there are at least three Graces.
- (CHUCKLES) But no Grace Crowe.
What sort of twisted game are you playing? What is wrong with you?
- Look, I just don't like bullies, all right? And those kids are little.
- If they don't like it, they don't have to be there.
And if I see you at my academy ever again,
I will call the police.
(SCOFFS) You're a thief and a liar. Stay away.
- Well, I've been called worse. - Yeah, that was relatively tame, considering.
- And one has to ask, why didn't she go to the police in the first place?
- Hmm.
- So, you enrolled a fake child and turned up to a ballet class?
- She even had props.
- I think I'm finally lost for words.
- Took Cynthia three lessons to figure it out, so... - Wow. You're a genius.
- And it got me into Cynthia and the school's statement,
so I'm with you ― genius.
- That's why I married her. - Ooh, this is interesting.
- Please tell me you found that third-party SIM-jacking app.
- No, but looking at the academy's accounts,
here are Isabel's class fees.
See here and here?
- $2000, $2000...
and another $2000 from...
Ian Fray. - Hmm. - That's Isabel's dad.
- With advanced dementia. - What, do you think she'd steal from her own father?
- Or Cynthia is and Isabel found out.
- I think it's time we cast a wider net.
(TINKLY PIANO MUSIC PLAYS)
(MUSIC CONTINUES PLAYING)
- Thank you, girls. That was excellent.
- BALLERINAS: Thank you, Mrs Pilkington.
- Did I not make myself absolutely clear yesterday?
Iwillcall the police. - Cynthia, I'm with the police.
I'm helping them with their inquiries into the murder of Isabel Fray.
- (LAUGHS) Rubbish.
What sort of police officer would invent a child, and then steal from the tutor?
- One who retired a few years ago and does things a little differently.
Now, why were you letting a very average dancer like Isabel Fray
audition for a big London dance company?
Now, either you can't spot talent,
or it has something to do with the huge amounts of money that Isabel's father,
Ian, was giving your academy.
- There is nothing illegal, or even immoral,
about receiving generous donations.
- Donations or bribes?
- Excuse me? - We both know that you have an excellent reputation,
despite the bullying of small children.
And we both know that Isabel Fray couldn't dance.
- All right, all right.
Things haven't been easy.
My academy has been in financial trouble for quite some time ―
rising overheads, falling enrolments.
Isabel... offered a way out.
- Well, things must have been tough,
if you'd put your name on the line for a dancer who's nowhere near international level.
- I never imagined it would go that far. I thought she'd give up ― move on to the next thing.
- Well, what gave you that idea? - Her sister said so.
She found out about the father's gifts.
She came to see me.
- And she was angry about the money?
- No, not at all. She agreed it was harmless enough,
to humour Isabel's dream until she tired of it.
- Harmless?
Isabel ended up dead.
- I may not have been happy going along with that ridiculous farce,
but I had nothing to do with that poor deluded girl's death.
Isabel didn't deserve what happened to her.
And I don't deserve to lose my academy.
- Now things are still difficult? - It's improving.
Isabel's family is donating a generous scholarship,
in honour of her memory.
- It's good of them.
This is your dad?
- On one of his good days. See, he's even smiling.
- You're doing a marvellous job.
- Thanks. (SIGHS)
Isabel always had him wrapped around her little finger.
- Mm. - So, yes, it concerned me,
that Cynthia was taking advantage of her desperation to be a star.
- And Isabel was taking advantage of your dad's illness?
- Oh, even if he wasn't ill,
he still would have given that money to the school.
Izzy would have asked, he would have said yes ― that's the way it always was.
- Right.
Is this, uh, Queenstown? - Uh, Ruapehu.
Actually, we have a ski chalet there.
- Looks like skiing was a passion you both shared.
- Ever since we were kids.
Shall we?
- So, I hear you're donating a scholarship to the ballet academy.
- The Isabel Fray Memorial. I'm presenting it tonight. - Aw. That's nice.
So you don't hold anything against Cynthia, huh? - Why ― should I?
You don't think Cynthia had something to do with my sister dying?
- No, no, no, she... she wouldn't have any reason to get rid of a cash cow, right?
- So then we're back to Damon, who sent her those messages that night.
I mean, how hard can it be, Alexa? - Well, actually,
the messages weren't sent from his phone.
- The police got that wrong?
- His phone was hijacked by a third-party app.
But digital forensics are working to track the app,
so that should point us in the right direction. - Well, good.
- Yeah. Really good. - (CELL PHONE RINGS) - Oh, sorry.
Oh, I should get this. Um, still looking for a caregiver for Dad.
- Yeah, sure. Of course. I'll see myself out.
- BOTH WHISPER: OK.
(SNEAKY MUSIC)
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
- Izzy? Is that you?
- Oh. Ian. No. I'm, uh... I'm Alexa Crowe.
- It's time for our walk.
- Well, I'll get, uh, Caitlin for―
- I want Isabel. Where is the girl?
Izzy! - Is everything. OK, Dad?
- Isabel was gonna take me for a walk.
- I can do that. - To the lake.
- Wherever you wanna go.
Thanks, Alexa. - Sure. Nice to meet you, Ian.
See you again, eh?
- You're the older one.
- That's right. It's Caitlin, Dad.
- Can we feed the swans?
- How's the deep dive going into Ian's accounts?
Any other big fantasies he's financing?
- Well, the family trust owns their home, a house on Waiheke,
a large yacht. Oh, and they just purchased a ski chalet at the mountain.
- Just purchased ― haven't they always had one?
Caitlin said they went skiing, even as kids, religiously.
- Well, maybe they stayed in lodges.
Oh, this is interesting. When Ian was diagnosed,
she got power of attorney. - Caitlin?
- No, Isabel.
- Not Caitlin, the more responsible, older one? - No, it's definitely Isabel.
And look at how much cash went in just after she took over. She must have sold off somethingmassive.
- Could they have another property that she could have flicked off?
- I'll see what I can find out. - (GASPS) Oh.
I think I might know what it was.
- Are you gonna share? Where are you off to now?
- I'm going for a walk.
(RELAXED MUSIC)
- Excuse me. Excuse me. No feeding the...
Itisyou.
- Hi. Um, I brought this for you.
You know, I wanted to make up for that unfortunate accident last week,
and to thank you for all the hard work you do,
hauling trash out of the lake.
Thank you.
- There was a mannequin in there the other day. - No!
- Full size. Gave me a hell of a fright when I grabbed that thing by the hand.
- I bet.
What do you do with all this stuff afterwards? Do you, like, stash it someplace?
- Not the mannequin ― gave me the heebie-jeebies, you know,
just staring at me.
But everything else, yes ― until I can get the powers that be to come and take it away.
- Can I take a look?
- Sure.
(JAZZ MUSIC)
Madison. - I showed the archery instructor the pictures of Isabel.
I may have traumatised him. We forget that normal people aren't used to autopsy pics.
- And? - He'd never seen Isabel Fray before in his life.
But you knew that already, didn't you?
- Thanks, Mads.
Caitlin, you off to the family ski chalet?
- I, uh, finally found a caregiver for Dad.
I think I deserve a little break after everything.
- Well, it's a lovely ski chalet. - It is. We're lucky to have it.
- Lucky? I dunno ― you paid a good whack for it, didn't you?
To get it back after Isabel sold it.
- It was a silly decision she made.
I told you what she was like ― an adorable flake. (CHUCKLES)
- An adorable flake with power of attorney over your father's affairs ―
gosh, that had to hurt.
- Isabel was dad's main caregiver.
It made sense.
- But she sold the family ski chalet ―
I mean, your happy place.
You only got her back after she died.
- My sister had just...
I saw that the chalet was back on the market, and I, um...
and I bought it. - Now, that's a lie.
You see, I talked to the people who bought it.
And they said that you actively sought them out,
offered them a lot of money to, uh,
buy it privately.
- What is this about, Alexa? What are you doing, wasting your time here,
when you haven't even caught the person that killed my sister?
- Oh, I think I have.
And we both know it.
- (SCOFFS)
I'mmeant to have shot my sister,
with a bow and arrow, of all things?
- I know.
See, Isabel did lessons, but Damon said she never finished the course.
- Sounds about right. - And the archery instructor, Curtis,
he was new to the club.
Which was handy for you.
You took over your sister's abandoned classes,
and no one knew that you'd ever been there.
Curtis says you're quite talented at archery.
Isabel was blowing all this money on
her endless fantasies, even bribing a ballet company for a fancy audition
when she wasn't that good.
- I don't care about money.
In case you haven't noticed, we have plenty of it.
- Yeah, it's not about money.
It's about resentment.
Deep resentment.
Years of watching your father indulge every silly dream your sister had,
while you worked hard, held things together after your mother died,
when he got sick.
And then Isabel, that flighty fantasist,
convinced your father to hand over the reins to her
and not to you.
- Really, Alexa, this is the best you can do?
- Almost. Stay with me,...
because this...
really helps.
Bet you never thought you'd see this again.
Unfortunately for you, the park ranger's really,
really precious about what goes into his pond.
So that night, you used the third-party app you'd researched
to hijack Damon's phone
and get Isabel to the studio.
You said you'd watch your dad, but you also knew he wouldn't notice if you slipped out for a bit.
And he certainly wouldn't remember.
You must have really hated her, your own sister.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
You shot her in the back ― twice.
And left her there to die.
You went to Swan Lake.
You dropped this into the pond,
and you went home to Daddy.
- She was selfish.
She took and took and took.
She sold our ski chalet. I don't even know why.
She did ridiculous things over and over again,
and everybody loved her for it.
I ― I was the boring one ―
everyone said so. What about my success?
I started a business. I actually achieved something,
and all they could talk about was her ― cute little Lizzie, with her...
her ballet and her deejaying...
and her marathon running and her surfing.
God, you have no idea what it was like.
- Well, something tells me you're not gonna be the boring one any more,
Caitlin.
(POIGNANT MUSIC)
(MUSIC FADES)
Let's see what you got, Katniss.
- The bull's-eye. Here we go.
Argh! - Ooh. Do you have something in your eye or...?
- It's actually really hard, Harry. - Is it? - Yeah.
- Giz a go. - All right. - (CHUCKLES)
- You made it look really hard. - (GIGGLES)
OK. It's all about your stance and making sure that you...
You're kidding me, right?
- She's totally done this before. - Yeah.
- No, not for decades.
- BOTH: Oh! - OK. - Oh I really hate you.
- But I return hate with love. - Oh, did you hear that? She said she loves me.
- That was the L-word. She says she loves me.
My turn, my turn, my turn. - All right. - Do it.
- See what this guy's got. - OK. Talk me through this, Madison. Stance, right?
- Stance. - (CHUCKLES)
What?! (LAUGHS) - Whoo! And it hits the bullseye too! That was really quite good.
- Not bad. - (BOTH LAUGH)
- There's a certain joy in delivering parcels and letters that people really want.
The moment when the recipient receives it, the expression on their face.
I mean, it makes all the road rage worth...
- Your mum's getting married? - Got married two weeks ago.
- Wait. You didn't go. - Good noticing.
- Come on. What, are you gonna make me guess what your problem is?
(GUNSHOT)
- I'm a businesswoman ― I kill the competition, not people.
- No, no, that's not good. That's rude. - No!
- Translated? (WHISPERS)
- No!