Previously on Harrow...
And what's this about trouble?
I made them. The pay's really good.
Oh, man, that's bad.
I'm not here.
Delivery for James Reed.
No-one called that here.
His sister's there. Couldn't tell if he is.
We'll come back.
My protege was annoying and thorough.
How are you, Jack?
Jack Twine took me under his wing.
Taught me everything I know.
The dead deserve respect.
- Who looked after you both? - Me.
I learnt to do a lot of stuff while Mum was sick.
Did you know the dead boy?
I made that false passport for him.
She's never going to do anything for me.
I'd like to talk to your son.
I've told the police I don't know why Max was in that shipyard.
Is that Max Zoric?
- What are you doing here? - This is Dr Bramson.
He used to work here.
Is there anything to explain why he fell?
- A fight? Drugs? Anything? - No signs of struggle.
Well, it might not be misadventure if there were two people involved.
If he's done nothing wrong, I can help him.
Good morning, Gold Coast.
Hope you're having a great day so far.
Here are the news headlines you need to know about this morning.
Motorists are being warned to expect delays in Mudgeeraba this morning,
after a car rolled on the Pacific Motorway
near Merrimac overnight.
And new data has revealed Australia has the second...
Oh, shit!
*CREDITS*
Early start.
Well, sleep and I have never really been on the best of terms.
You're second-guessing my work too.
- No. - Then why are you looking at him?
Bramson is paid to find fault.
Even if there isn't any.
I'm just trying to see what he might pick on.
Why are you interested?
I mean, this doesn't have anything to do with you anymore, does it?
No.
So, you're telling me that you're pre-empting Bramson's findings
out of concern for my reputation?
Is that so hard to believe?
Yes.
I don't want you to be wrong.
I want this boy's death to be misadventure...
...'cause he has my name in his passport.
And I want to believe that I do have a son somewhere out there
and that he's a long, long way from all of this.
So, do you like it?
Yeah, it's cool
but I don't know why you're showing me this.
We already have a house.
Yeah, in 'burbsville.
Here we're in staggering distance of four clubs, three pubs
and a very, very sweet deli
that will make you THE best Reuben you've ever had.
So, you show me all this
after you hid from a courier that came for you at Mum's house.
I love how smart you are.
Are you worried?
A little, yeah.
So, you've gotta move out.
And I think you should too.
What sort of shit have you got me into?
You're not in any. I just... I don't want you to be.
You know, this is all... stuff that I'm trying to clear up.
But if we're here...
...if you're here, then at least I'll know you're OK.
None of this matters anyway.
Cannot afford this place.
Really?
Come with me.
Hi. Can I help you?
To collect.
Christian.
I'll be right back, Mr Grey.
I didn't order three.
Uh, ordered three and paid for three.
Uh... So, you just need one?
I can refund the other two.
Have you got your card on you?
Uh...
Oh, I didn't bring it with me.
Fern...
...you can pay me back, right?
Cheers.
So, $1,900.
I can't believe you just did that!
What?
What, the... those phones cost a pittance for them to make.
I don't care! You just made me complicit in fraud.
Oh, come on - it's not like you didn't do some dodgy shit
when you lived out of home.
Yeah. And I almost went to jail not that long ago.
- You won't get caught. - How do you know that?
That was on my card!
You want to see me get arrested?
I shouldn't have used you.
That sucked.
No more.
I won't.
Where the hell...?
Looking for this?
Oh. Yes.
Sidamo arabica.
Imported from Ethiopia.
- Expensive? - I'm... not sure.
You want special coffee, you pay for it.
Fine.
Oh!
Motor vehicle accidents, of, uh, different sorts.
Kaara Oberg, 17. High-school student.
Cyclist down the coast found her in a car, in a ditch,
seen after dawn.
It's looking like she was drinking
at an end-of-year school beach party.
Drove off, went down the embankment.
SOCOs took her temp...
they seem to think it happened some time between 1:00am and 3:00am.
Uh, photos coming.
Now, this one...
...Mitchell Vanderhaust, also 17.
Also Gold Coast.
Run over by a tractor on a beach just after sunrise.
- Run over by a tractor? - You want this one?
It's unusual.
Dr Fairley, can you please attend to this one?
Dr Molyneux, have you done a vehicle crash?
- No. - You can work with Dr Fairley.
Dr Harrow, you can look after the young woman.
Ms Warrington? Sergeant?
You'd better come to the foyer.
...pathetic, and your daughter was nothing but a drunk!
How bloody dare you?!
Hey! Police! Hey, hey!
Leave it. Just move apart, please.
Calm down.
Mr Oberg?
- Yeah. - Mr Vanderhaust.
OK, gentlemen. Now, I need to speak to you separately.
- I just want to know what happened. - I'll tell you what happened!
Alright? My boy is dead and I know it's your daughter's fault!
- She was in that car by herself! - We don't know what happened yet.
Well, my son never touched a drop
until he started hanging around with his daughter.
- Kaara didn't drink. - Whole school knew she was a drunk!
- She wasn't! - And now my son is dead!
All because of your pissy little... - You...
Hey! OK! OK.
Enough! Enough. Mr Vanderhaust, you come with me, please.
Mr Vanderhaust!
- Can we use a room? - Please. Please.
Alright, alright. Alright.
Alright. I'm OK.
I'm OK, mate.
I'm OK.
Mr Oberg?
Do you want to sit down?
Your daughter, Kaara, is in there.
- Have you come to see her? - Oh, I don't know.
The police showed me enough to identify her.
What happens?
Well, with any unnatural death,
we conduct an autopsy to confirm how she died.
She crashed.
It's my job to find out why.
She wasn't drinking.
Pardon?
Don't listen to anything that he said. He's wrong.
Kaara wasn't drinking.
Well, how did... Kaara know Mitchell?
Oh, he and Kaz were boyfriend, girlfriend.
But she's...
She was a good kid.
She looked after herself. Not like me.
She... she ate well, she never drank.
No.
Mr Oberg,
why don't you come inside too and, uh...
...we'll take care of you?
There's no point.
Everything good's gone.
I... didn't know when you were coming, so...
I was outside, talking to her father.
According to the police report,
it was her father's car she crashed.
And she was barefoot in the accident pics,
so it does look like she drove straight from the beach.
So, drink-driving, huh?
Father said that she wasn't drinking.
Oh, come on! 17, end of school?
He seemed very convincing.
You weren't invited to many beach parties, were you?
I was invited to heaps of beach parties,
thank you very much.
But when I say 'parties',
I mean Dungeons & Dragons bouts
and when I say 'beach',
I mean the chess club at school if Mrs Yuen was in a good mood.
But I will have you know
that Valnos Fenleaper was a formidable half-elf fighter.
But... it does look like she lost control of the car
soon after leaving the beach.
- Do we have her medical records? - There's not much.
Just a basic summary from her bulk-billing medical centre.
Repeat visits querying whether
she had irritable bowel syndrome.
She was on a waiting list to see a specialist and...
...doctor's note concerned that
she might have an eating disorder,
which she denied.
Her father said that she looked after herself.
And you believe that too?
It didn't seem that he had a reason to lie.
But parents don't always know what their kids are actually like.
How about her hands? Anything under her nails?
- Any sign of violence? - No.
But there is this.
- Paint. - Mm.
Is the CT ready?
What do you see?
Uh, a clear break between C2 and C3.
A lateral shear?
Hmm.
Looks like, on impact,
her head slammed into the hard window
and the weight of her body snapped this fragile joint.
Mm.
Here are more photos.
She wasn't wearing a seatbelt.
Why?
There's your answer.
Ended school,
celebrated with her friends and boyfriend at the beach party,
drank too much.
Well, let's prepare fluids for a full tox.
- Where's her boyfriend? - His PM's still going.
- Nope. No way within an hour. - We don't know that.
- Yeah, well, we can guess. - We're not here to guess!
Can we help you?
- Haven't started internals yet? - We've been arguing.
- Discussing. - Don't let me interrupt.
Family disputes can get very ugly between you hillbilly types.
- Maybe you can help settle it. - You... Oh!
Heat loss in sand.
OK.
Mitchell Vanderhaust was run over by a sand-grooming tractor.
The Scenes of Crime arrived an hour after the tractor driver phoned 000
but in that time, his body temperature had dropped to ambient.
- In an hour? - It's possible.
And was the sand wet or dry?
I mean, was there rain, was there wind?
- Had his clothes been damp? - All of which I said.
And there's also evidence to support that consumption of alcohol
can cause a drop in the set point
of the brain's thermoregulatory centre.
We've sent off bloods and urine.
And there you are.
What do you think?
You think he was already dead?
I don't know.
Do you dispute that vehicle-crush is what killed him?
- I still think it's fishy. - Oh, beachside puns.
Fantastic.
I'm starting internals.
Fairley, stop.
So, here is the sand we found on Mitchell's body...
...and here is the sand we found on Kaara's body.
- Different sands. - Different beaches.
But supposedly, they were at the same party.
You don't fancy a trip to the seaside, do you?
So, where do you think it happened?
Uh, somewhere between here and the tideline.
So on dry sand?
It looks like it.
See, dry sand is more of an insulator than wick for heat loss.
Yes, which makes him losing all his heat within an hour seem very odd.
And this isn't the sand we found on Kaara Oberg.
I don't see any evidence of a beach party, do you?
Let's see if Nichols knows where that party was.
I hate the beach.
Do I leave my shoes on and get sand in them,
or do I take them off
and still get those annoying little bits in between your toes
once I put my socks back on?
It's all the big issues, isn't it?
Well, here's where it was.
We talked to the kids who went to the school
that Kaara and Mitchell Vanderhaust attended.
Apparently, they were both here.
This is the sand I found on Kaara.
But not on Mitchell.
So, how did he get there?
Well, I imagine his girlfriend drove him.
Well, party, party, party - boyfriend, girlfriend here.
They want alone time.
They drive to the other beach. He falls asleep.
She leaves him there. She sadly goes off the road...
Look, what I want to know is what are your problems?
Well, Mitchell Vanderhaust was run over by a tractor driver at dawn
but his body temperature suggests he might have been dead before that.
Alcohol poisoning? Drug overdose?
What's the fly in your ointment?
Well, I know that Kaara died in the car crash.
But her father said she didn't drink.
- Her alcoholic father. - Yeah.
And on the strength of that,
you're not convinced she drunk-drove.
Yeah.
Possible overdose, possible not drinking...
both of which should be answered by a toxicology report.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Then why am I here?
I got sand in my shoes for nothing!
Hey, we should get going too.
I've gotta help my uncle write up the PM.
I'm gonna, uh, poke around a little bit longer.
Of course you are.
Bryan, do you mind giving me a lift?
No, wait!
Wait a sec!
No, no, wait! Wait a sec!
- Please... God! - Wait! Please.
Oh, shit.
Flooded it.
- You don't look like a cop. - I'm with the Coroner.
You knew Mitchell Vanderhaust and Kaara Oberg?
Yeah. Why does it matter now?
They were here. They left.
And they died.
But I'm not sure I understand exactly what happened.
Did they leave to be alone together?
What?
They had a fight.
About what?
I don't know.
- Maybe... - Maybe what?
Look, Mitchell was this golden boy.
And Kaara...
Kaara wasn't academic. She wasn't sporty.
She was always wagging school, so... maybe they broke up.
And, yet, they left together.
Did you see them leaving?
It was a party. We had other things to do.
You've never been to a beach party before?
Heaps.
Did Kaara drink?
Why?
Her father said she didn't.
Mitchell's father said she did.
Like I said, what does it matter now?
Can I go?
Yep?
Mitchell Vanderhaust was clear of all drugs, except for alcohol.
His BAC was 0.11,
high enough for him to fall asleep on the beach
but not fatal.
So, it was the tyre crush that killed him?
- Yep. - And Kaara?
Her blood alcohol was 0.26.
She was well drunk.
I'm sorry. Her dad was wrong.
OK. Thanks.
Mr Oberg.
How can I help you?
They...
...they said you'd done the autopsy.
Can I take her home now?
Not yet. I'm sorry, no.
But, Charlie, I...
I've got some bad news.
I know you said that Kaara didn't drink but...
It's... it's OK.
Mitchell's father sent me this.
Leave me alone!
Bit tipsy, Skinny, huh?
- Into your dad's rum a bit, eh? - Shut up! Shut up!
Oi, shut up, you dicks!
What the shit are you doing, Zags?
Your girlfriend's drunk again. Turn it off! Now!
Sorry, Mitch...
I thought I knew her.
I thought she looked after herself.
She was always so picky about what she ate and drank.
But they were right.
She was a drunk, like me.
Just, uh... uh...
...someone'll...let us know when she's...ready to go, yeah?
- Hey. - Nice stitching.
I'm ready to put her away.
- You OK? - Yeah.
Yeah. Just, uh...
Just wanted things to be different.
She was young.
She drank, she drove.
That's how bad things happen.
I guess so.
If you're looking for a heart,
I think there's a snake one here somewhere.
You do realise this is an alcohol-free workplace.
It's just there to balance the desk.
- May I sit? - Please.
You were upset this morning,
when I didn't give you the tractor-crush case.
A little.
I assigned you the PM you didn't want
because I just needed to see you could do your job.
And instead, you spent the whole day
trying to project a mystery into it.
Did you solve it?
Her father swears she didn't drink.
No. Not yet.
Your work performance, dating back to 1998.
Now, on average, you perform just as many,
if not more, PMs
as any other pathologist here.
But you don't do them in order.
You don't do them on time.
You might spend two days on one
and then a week of all-nighters making up for it.
You are hardly in your office.
No-one knows where you are or when your work will be done.
And that one?
QIFM's running costs.
Slightly more than half a million dollars...
...over budget.
People have to go.
So, should I start with Rosamie in Histology?
She does her job on time and
she is a single mum with two young kids.
Jerome in Maintenance? He's 54 years old.
How do you think he'll fare getting a job if I let him go?
Or...
...do I look closely at the employee
who does his job in his own way,
regardless of its impact on everyone else?
Who would you pick?
Look over these, if it helps.
Damn it!
Well, if you want to do some light housekeeping, my office needs some.
Look at this.
Jack.
What a teacher!
What a pathologist.
What would Jack do?
About what?
Fairley...
...what are you doing with your old files?
I'm looking for mistakes.
Remember that... private thing that we discussed on our camping trip?
The leech on your testicle?
My retirement.
Well, Warrington just came to see me and...
You were right. Bramson has got me spooked.
You know, I spent half the afternoon going over my notes
on the Max Zoric post-mortem and...
And...?
...and I don't know whether...
...I might have got something wrong.
When we were doing it, we thought he was your son
and I thought I'd be fine with that
but I wasn't.
I was so afraid of messing up your son's autopsy
that I fear I was blinkered.
I fear I... I might have missed something.
Look, I'm sure you did a very good job...
I can't quit while Bramson is going through this review.
If this turns into a crime, it could take months
and if he finds that I did miss something,
then, well, I'm not leaving with that as my swan song.
I understand.
Look, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about.
You're an excellent pathologist, Fairley.
Jack would have been proud.
We were so very upset for you.
I'm glad he wasn't your son.
- Here we go! - Uh...
- What are we celebrating? - Us!
Me, finally getting to meet my long-lost sister!
- Cheers. - Cheers.
What about telling your long-lost sister the truth?
About what?
The dead boy who everyone thought was you,
who had Dad's name in his passport.
Is this really the right time?
Alright.
Wait. Wait!
His name was Max.
I worked for his mother at a pretty big software company.
Anyway, Max was a bit of a lad. You know?
He liked the fast cars and the pretty people
and the marching powder.
And he wanted to leave the country.
I didn't ask why but he needed a passport.
And you made it, 'cause you don't care if things are legal or not.
I've developed some... bad habits.
But a £6,000 medical bill
is a lot for a 14-year-old kid trying to look after his sick mum.
So, yeah,
I've taught myself some dodgy shit.
But I had nothing to do with Max's death.
Then how did he die?
I don't know! That's why I need my phone.
You see, I never trusted Max.
That's why I diverted the security cameras at the shipyard to my phone,
'cause he stabbed me in the back.
As it turned out, when I got there and gave him his passport,
he said he didn't have any cash.
So, I went back to the car, where my phone was,
and it was being towed by the cops!
I went back to tell Max...
...and he was dead.
Then tell the cops!
What... and go to jail for 15 years for forging passports?
_
- Hi. - Hi!
- Are you OK? - Yeah, yeah. I'm just out.
Uh... are you with your brother?
Am I with James?
No. Why?
Well... just wondering, that's all.
OK. Well, I will let him know if I see him.
OK.
Love you.
Oh, not that one. I never liked that one.
Still fussy, then, Jack?
You've got Johnnie Bassett there, haven't you?
Mm.
Oh, please, help yourself.
I'm fine.
But I don't appreciate the dead coming back to my boat, Jack.
I don't think you've got a choice where they turn up anymore.
Good to see you up and about again.
- Mm. - And you've got both your legs back.
Also got my old teeth.
You're not looking too hot, though.
Hmm.
What a fine Eton mess.
Yeah.
Fairley asked it today.
"What would Jack do?"
How do I love a boy who seems determined to avoid me?
Is that what this is all about?
Being loved in return?
That's not why we do this.
We love them
because they need loving.
We do the job we do because it needs doing.
And we believe...
...even though no-one else does.
And that's the only way we get through
this shitty, beautiful life.
? Lord, I just can't help... ?
I'm not sure I believe anything James says.
You're his father, Daniel.
You have to believe.
Mr Oberg?
Mr...
Mr Oberg!
Shit!
Charlie! Charlie!
Charlie? Charlie?
Shit.
You've dialled emergency services.
Ambulance! Come on, Charlie!
_
Bread, crackers, cereal, rice.
All carbohydrates. Kaara was trying to watch her diet?
She was absolutely trying to watch it,
avoiding carbohydrates.
You see, her GP thought she might have had an eating disorder.
She thought she might have had IBS.
I don't think it was either.
Hey.
Some olive...
...capers...
...pepperoni.
Pizza.
There were pizza boxes at the party beach.
Yet she was trying to avoid carbohydrates.
Sure but it was end of year, she was celebrating,
she was letting her hair down, she was drinking...
But if she was drinking,
then this undigested food should have traces of alcohol in it.
But...
It doesn't.
No alcohol.
She wasn't drinking?
No.
- Just like her father said. - But how?
Her blood alcohol was through the roof.
I think Kaara had auto-brewery syndrome.
Her digestive system would convert carbohydrates into ethanol.
That would explain why she had
such a reputation for drinking at school.
Any time she ate carbohydrates,
her body would convert them to alcohol.
And at the beach party, she let her guard down, ate pizza,
and became intoxicated again.
So, got dumped by her boyfriend,
drunk, angry, hurt...
She drove over him and to hide it, took him to another beach?
What?
You see, by her blood alcohol, Kaara was so intoxicated,
she could hardly stand up,
let alone lift Mitchell's body into a car.
Well, someone did.
Madison?
It is Madison, isn't it?
May I come in?
Mm-hm.
Is there sand in that vacuum?
From when you moved Mitchell's body?
Wouldn't clean out his blood, though.
I saw your note to Kaara.
You were her friend.
You were the one who encouraged her to apply for art college.
She was so clever.
No-one else seemed to notice.
He'd broken up with her.
He'd broken her.
Don't touch me anymore!
No! I don't want to hear it!
Just leave me alone!
She was so upset.
He didn't know what to do. He just sat down behind the car.
He was pretty drunk too.
I wanted to go to her.
But Mitchell was still there.
You said that you thought he left the beach after the fight
but he hadn't, had he?
Well, I thought he had.
So, I went to console her.
He'd fallen asleep behind the car...
...and she started it.
She accidentally put it in reverse and...
She didn't even know.
You knew... if she was charged with manslaughter,
that she would never go to art college.
And I knew that in the morning,
the tractor would be going across the main beach.
So, you moved his body to the other beach,
buried him in the sand and left him.
All to save Kaara.
I thought I could.
She was so good.
It's beautiful. You should put it in your folio.
Yeah, well, even if I get in...
...how can I go?
What do you mean?
Who's gonna look after Dad?
If you've come to give me another 50 lashes,
can it wait till tomorrow?
- It's been a big day. - You've been out again.
Most of the day.
Inspector Crowley rang me.
Apparently, a young woman named Madison Wheeler
presented herself to police,
admitting that she moved the body of Mitchell Vanderhaust
and the bottles in Kaara's car were her father's.
Speaking of bottles...
Not quite appropriate.
Probably not.
But well earned.
And now I'm confiscating it.
Like I said,
alcohol-free workplace.
- Hey. - Hey.
Nice work.
Are you OK?
Warrington stole my whisky.
Oh.
So, I was thinking of going to buy one.
- Are you...? - Oh!
Yeah, I could do... a wine, maybe.
- Grace. - Ben.
Daniel.
Are you here to see me?
Benjamin, Benjamin, Benjamin!
Lyle!
Here you are, as long as you need it.
Your uncle's letting me store some things in his garage,
till I get settled.
Anyway, Grace and I were just off for a drink.
- So, uh... - Great! We'll join you.
So much to talk about.
Can I suggest a cheeky little sake bar I've discovered...
Dr Fairley. Dr Molyneux. I'm glad I caught you.
There's a meeting now at the Department of Justice.
I think it'd be good if you both came.
You too, Dr Harrow.
Why exactly am I here?
You were asked for.
Ah, doctors. Just in time.
Please, sit.
We were just going through the results
of my review post-mortem examination of Ms Zoric's son, Max.
Ms Zoric, are you OK if we continue?
I... I understand completely if it's too difficult.
Please.
I think we all want to know what you've found.
Uh, well, firstly, I'd like to commend Doctors Fairley and Molyneux
on their initial post-mortem.
They demonstrated a commitment to detail
that admirably reflects the State's determination
to reach an impartial understanding of the facts.
And I, uh... I concur with their finding
that the cause of Mr Zoric's death
was a fall of some 6.5 metres,
his head striking the ground,
breaking the spine between the 3rd and 4th cervical vertebrae.
If I may respectfully ask,
if Dr Bramson concurs with our findings,
then why are we here?
Well...
...you rightly identified damage to Mr Zoric's right hand,
a fracture of the dorsal metacarpophalangeal joint,
or knuckle.
Yes, obviously from his impact with the ground.
Well, that's where we disagree.
As you can see from our reconstruction of Mr Zoric's fall,
were there any finger injuries,
it would have been hyperextension fractures,
with the impact marks on the tips.
That knuckle injury couldn't have been caused by the fall.
Well...
I believe the injury is what is also known as a...
...boxer's fracture,
and happened not when Mr Zoric hit the ground
but when he hit someone else.
It's possible, but that could have
happened any time in the evening.
Except the minimal swelling says it occurred very shortly before death.
Also, the angle of the head wound on Mr Zoric
suggests that he was carried over the rail
by as significant forward momentum.
Yeah. What are you saying, Doctor?
I am saying that either Mr Zoric ran deliberately at the rail
or as the knuckle injury suggests,
he was fighting someone up there when he fell.
Harrow? Harrow!
What do you think?
About Bramson's theory
that there might have been someone else on the boat?
It's possible.
Yeah, and it's possible that person
also could have written your name on the back of Max's passport
and that person left a letter intended for you.
Look, you said at the shipyard that the security cameras were off
in the hour when Max Zoric died.
Do you think that phone might have anything to do with that?
Cybercrime tried to unlock it. Couldn't.
Dan, have you heard from your son?
No.
I have to go.
I want you to get in touch with the Fingerprint Bureau.
They found a partial print on the ship rail here...
...and they also found a smudged thumbprint here,
on the glove box of the Mercedes.
Mm.
And a solid index print on the phone they found in the glove box
that matches a print that they lifted off that letter.
And... and these prints...
definitely not Max Zoric's?
These belong to someone else.
The second autopsy's theory holds water.
Right.
So, someone else was with Max Zoric when he died.
Yeah. Good work.
Don't want her treading on it.
Right.
*CREDITS*