(fast-paced jazz music) - (man): Look, there's the car!

- (woman): There she is!

- (man): Here she comes!

- (woman): Oh, she's so beautiful!

- I can't believe it's really her!

- (French accent): I'll admit I'm pleasantly surprised.

- (English accent): As am I.

What a turnout!

- (French accent): Did you expect anything less?

- Like I always say, style knows no boundaries.

Still, it's nice to be reminded how much I'm adored.

- Indeed.

- Mademoiselle.

- (man): Coco!

Over here!

(ominous music) Coco!

Over here!

(gunshot) - (man): Get down!

Get down!

(screaming) - Are you all right?!

- Mon dieu, Edmund!

Phillippe, dépêche-toi!

- What do you mean you still have no lead?!

If this was Paris, the Garde would already have caught the madman who dared to shoot at Coco Chanel.

I cannot waste another second.

I've got a fashion show to prepare for!

- Um, excuse me?

Uh... - Oui?

- Um... Miss Chanel.

I beg your pardon.

Um, I couldn't help but overhear your squabble just now, and...

I was wondering that if by any chance, uh, you might be interested in an alternative means of investigation...

I might know someone who can help you.

- Go on.

- "A bullet was some greeting for France's famed designer.

"The entire fashion world is on tenterhooks.

What will be next?"

Well, leave it to Lipstick to sensationalize the story.

- Perhaps now you understand my predicament?

- I do, but... a high profile figure like yourself?

I would have thought the coppers would be all over this... - I'll be six feet under before your "coppers" find this madman.

- I take it they're not making much progress.

- Zero.

Perhaps if they loosened their belts, more oxygen would reach their brains.

- I fear some would need to lose their pants entirely before we saw any improvement.

- I have no confidence in them.

So, will you take the case?

- Of course.

- Merci.

- Just one question.

Why do you have more confidence in me?

- If there's one thing I've learned over the years, Miss Drake, it's that I can always trust a woman in pants.

(theme music) - So, you came to Toronto at Mr. Eaton's request?

- Precisely, to put on a fashion show of my latest line: a collection of petites robes, little dresses for all purposes that every modern woman should own.

- They're beautiful.

Do they breed enemies?

- One doesn't become queen of Paris couture without amassing a few enemies.

- Even in Toronto?

- Fashion travels the world, Miss Drake.

- Fair enough.

Now, before the shooting, did you notice anything unusual?

- Only a crowd of adoring fans.

- Not all adoring, I'm afraid.

In the photograph in the paper, you were being escorted out of the car by two gentlemen.

I'd like to talk to them, if possible.

- If you think it will help.

Phillippe LeDuc, Frankie Drake.

Notre propre détective privée.

- Enchanté.

- Oh!

You are Coco's... - Business associate.

- Phillippe was a procurement officer in the French army.

He sources fabrics for me of the highest quality.

He has excellent taste.

- Coco's key to success is the quality of her designs, not her fabrics.

Edmund Robinson.

- My generous supporter and other war hero.

- 23rd Division.

Of course, we all served our country in the Great War.

Some, however, were leaders of men.

- Come now, gentleman.

Miss Drake is here to investigate the shooting.

- Did either of you notice anything unusual?

- Unfortunately, I was too busy trying to avoid a bullet.

- I was completely focused on getting Coco to safety.

- I don't understand.

How will talking to Edmund and Phillippe help you find this madman?

- Well, you do your job, and I'll do mine.

- Excellent idea.

- I'll start by looking at the scene of the shooting, but I'd like to plant someone in here to keep an eye on things.

- And who might that be?

- I have just the person.

(fast-paced music) - This is so exciting!

I finally get to see you work a case first-hand!

- Just don't let it get out, Dot.

- How long have we been friends?

You know I'm a vault.

One question though... where do you keep your gun?

- SH!

(giggling) So, who are these seamstresses?

Any of them arrive here from Paris with Coco?

- Oh, no.

Everyone here works for Mr. Eaton.

Coco's line was mostly finished when we arrived.

We're all here on hand for mostly alterations and fittings.

- Who's the new girl?

- Um, Ruth, this is my... - Apprentice.

Trudy.

- She'll be assisting with the show.

- I'm very excited to be here!

- Someone dressed for the occasion.

How very voguish for a lowly seamstress.

- Oh, this!

Well, it's a Dot original.

She's made my dresses for years.

She's got a great talent.

- You don't say.

Well, now.

Best get back to work.

- Why don't I help you get you started?

- It's a tad grainy, but based on this photograph, when the shot was fired, Coco was standing right about here.

- Actually, I would say it would be more like... here.

- And what makes you think Coco was standing here?

- It would have to be.

Let's look around.

- Right.

Right.

Because of the proximity of that lamp post.

I don't know how I missed that!

- Looks like the bullet landed here, which means that the shot would have been fired from the fifth or sixth floor of that building.

- Are you sure?

The police seem fairly certain that the shooter was on the roof.

- Well... agree to disagree.

- Uh, yeah.

Oh, watch out!

- I'll admit I pictured it differently.

Are all fashion show preparations this intense?

- You're confusing intensity with fear.

- Oh?

- Since you're working for her, you should probably know Coco doesn't handle disappointment very well.

Or at all.

- Wow.

- It's positively sinful!

Do you know the models have all been instructed to wear these?!

If you ask me, she's trying to turn women into boys!

- You're living in a different era, Ruth.

- I simply think a woman should design for a woman's body.

- You know, I don't exactly disagree.

There's something undeniably feminine about the Victorian silhouette.

- I couldn't agree more.

Perhaps we have more in common than I thought.

- Wow.

That's commitment to the cause.

- Someone has to take a stand before things get too dire.

Besides, what's so awful about a good solid corset?

- Oh!

Pardon me, miss.

- Excuse me!

So sorry.

You know, it's awfully nervy coming into a bustling building during prime business hours and firing a rifle.

(soft music) So you think the shooter holed himself up in here?

- It's a possibility.

Mary, take a look at this.

- All I see is this little groove... - It's the perfect spot to brace the barrel of a rifle.

Now, we just need to find the casing.

- So, are you saying the shooter was positioned like this?

- More like... - Right, because of that sign post.

- That's a pretty steep incline, which means... - Uh!

Uh!

Do you think you should be doing that?

- Probably not.

Ah!

Bingo.

- The shell casing!

- Mary... look at that.

- Hey, what do you know about Ruth?

- I've known her for years.

I'll admit she's a bit of a curmudgeon.

- I noticed.

- Didn't start out that way.

- How so?

- She was a corset maker.

One of the best in the city.

Even had one of her own shops.

- Really?

- Mm-hmm!

Well, it's because she can pass.

- Oh... - Then, overnight, she became obsolete, even lost her shop, all because of a peasant girl from Paris.

- So, Chanel loosened the waistline and put Ruth out of business.

- And now, she's sewing hems for Coco Chanel.

Just imagine.

- Well, why do it?

- Girl's gotta make a living.

Haven't you ever worked for somebody you didn't like?

- Never long enough to let it fester.

You let something stew long enough, something's bound to boil over.

- You're not saying that Ruth-- - I'm not saying anything.

- It seems this board has been pried up before.

Look at the space down there.

It's just right.

Perfect fit for a rifle.

So after the shooting, they stashed the rifle in here.

- Why?

- So they could walk out of here clean.

- But the rifle's gone now.

- Right.

They came back to pick it up once the heat died down.

- Oh... - What kind of flower delivery guy delivers flowers and keeps the box?

- Frankie!

(fast-paced music) - Damn it!

- He strolled right out of here with the rifle in that flower box, didn't he?

- Did you get a good look at him?

- I got a look at him.

- OK. Well, chances are someone like that has had a brush with the law before.

So, maybe you'll find his face in the mug book.

- OK.

I'll take a look.

- I'm gonna check in with Trudy.

- Did you see this?

- What?

"More Coco Controversy: "Toronto coppers deemed inadequate.

Fashion designer hires PI."

- These Lipstick articles aren't getting any local fans.

- Mary and I saw the gunman.

- Really?

- He used a Lee-Enfield rifle.

One of the most common Allied weapons used during the war.

- Doesn't really narrow things down.

Anything else?

- He posed as a flower delivery man.

- Sounds like a professional.

- So, who's the client?

- Well, it could be anyone.

Her own seamstresses seem to fear her at best.

- And at worst?

- Well, one of them, Ruth, she disapproves of just about everything Coco represents.

- Enough to want her dead?

- I wouldn't rule her out.

(screaming) (fast-paced music) - Seigneur... Mes créations!

(gasping) Ah!

♪♪ - For God's sake, read the tea leaves!

- Il a raison, Coco.

It's time to go back to Paris!

- Ca suffit!

It takes more than a badly-aimed bullet and a few flames to stop Coco Chanel!

Whether it takes all day and all night to make new dresses... the fashion show will go on!

- Coco, do you not... - Whoever tried to kill Coco seems bent on ruining her.

- And had access to the atelier.

- Someone from her inner circle.

Did you see anyone in here alone?

- Ruth and Dot were the last to leave before lunch, apart from Edmund and Phillippe.

- Everything is destroyed!

You will never finish in time.

- Faster!

Faster!

- You keep an eye on Dot and Ruth.

I'm gonna look into Coco's supposed business associates.

There's something else going on there.

(tense music) - Is it too unreasonable to expect that a garment bearing the Chanel name be crafted professionally?

Throw that away and start over.

- She's merciless.

- Coco has exacting standards.

She specifically requested 10 identical stitches per inch.

See?

- It's hard to believe you do that by hand.

It's perfect.

- Perfection is a Coco requirement.

- Haven't you ever thought about getting your own line into stores?

Mr. Eaton might even help you out.

- I didn't just think about it, I actually approached Mr. Eaton.

- You did?

- I told him I wanted to design elegant dresses for regular gals who couldn't afford haute couture.

Mr. Eaton said it was a terrific idea.

But then... - What?

- The deal fell through.

- Just like that?

- It wasn't meant to be.

- Well, if you ask me, Mr. Eaton doesn't know what he's missing out on.

♪♪ (phone ringing) - Yes, Sergeant?

OK. OK, wait.

I'll be right there.

- Here we go!

(phone ringing) (gasping) - Yes, Sergeant?

Fine.

- C'est affreux.

None of these.

Only white!

I want the stage bathed in white silk.

How will my dresses stand out if the audience can barely distinguish them from the busy stage dressing?

Simplicité est la clé de l'élégance.

- Moins c'est mieux.

- You speak French.

- I spent a little time in Paris.

I made some very good friends.

- I have a feeling you and I are cut from the same clothing.

- I think you mean cloth.

- Peu importe.

I admire a woman who can pave the way for her own destiny.

- Well, we have to make our own way.

Of course, even a self-made woman could use a little assistance from time to time.

I've noticed that Phillippe and Edmund are very attentive associates.

- Very.

- What led to their interest in haute couture?

- They are businessmen.

They understand the benefits of a good investment.

- You're sleeping with both of them, aren't you?

- But of course.

- Well, that is an important detail that you failed to mention.

- Is it of any consequence?

- Well, in my experience, love triangles breed jealousy.

And jealousy can be very dangerous.

- I think you misunderstand the nature of this triangle.

- Do I?

- Oh, the arrangement's quite simple.

When I met Coco, she was still Gabrielle Chanel, and soon after, I invited her to live with me.

- It was my good friend Edmund who introduced me to Coco.

- Not to boast, but a great deal of her success is in fact owed to me.

- Edmund was very generous, but nobody recognized her genius the way I did.

- What is genius, after all, without the funds to nurture it?

- More than any money, Coco needed someone to believe in her.

- What Coco needed was freedom to let her creative contemplations run wild.

My château proved the ideal location.

- The château started to feel a tad... restrictive for Coco.

- She's no prisoner.

Coco does as Coco pleases.

After all, the only thing I want... - The only thing I've ever wanted... - (both): Is for Coco to be happy.

- Of course Edmund and Phillippe make me happy, but they have little to do with my professional success.

- That's interesting.

They told a very different story.

- You know men, they can't help themselves.

They take credit for absolutely everything.

I would tell a different story.

- And what would that be?

- After my mother died, my dear aunts took me under their wings.

It was they who taught me the art of sewing.

- But I thought you were raised by nuns.

- Why would you think that?

- After I took the case, I did some research on you.

- Is that so?

- Your mother died when you were 11 years old.

Your father placed you in an orphanage in Aubazine.

You were raised by the sisters of the Congregation of the Sacred Heart of Mary.

- That's far too sad.

I prefer my version of the story.

- Your aunts taught you to sew.

- But I took it from there.

My success rests on the strength of my imagination.

- And what about Edmund and Phillippe?

- Mere passengers on my journey.

Nobody but myself paved the way for Coco Chanel.

But the men amuse me greatly, so I am happy for them to come along for the ride.

- You should have heard them!

Their pretense was spectacular.

- Hard to believe they run the most successful fashion house in the world and still have the energy for affairs.

- I don't think they view it as an affair.

- So it's basically one big happy threesome?

- That's what they're saying.

- But?

- I don't buy it.

Someone in Coco's inner circle is out to get her.

We need to find a way in.

(door closing) - Listen to this!

"Coco's Dresses as Inflammatory as her Conduct.

"For all her haughtiness, Coco is still the one getting justifiably burned."

- Boy, these Lipstick articles have not been kind to Coco.

- It's a compelling read, though.

I quite like the fire motif in this one.

- That's fair.

She does have a way with words.

- And gossip.

These dresses were only burned a few hours ago.

- Oh, Lipstick gets around.

Gossip finds a way of reaching her quickly.

- Too quickly.

Somebody on the inside is tipping Lipstick off.

- To what end?

- Well, they've taken a shot at Coco; they've burned her dresses and now, they're planting malicious gossip.

- You know what it is, gals?

It's character assassination on top of a real assassination attempt!

- So, Flo... how does one reach Lipstick?

- Oh!

You see, Frankie, she's got this box.

(chuckling) (rhythmic music) - Drake.

- Detective Greyson.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

- Are you behind this?

- What are you talking about?

- Hmm.

"Apparently, Coco doesn't think that Toronto's police force is up to snuff."

It goes on at length.

And then... "Is Miss Drake making progress where our inadequate coppers fell short?"

That's quite a way of drumming up business, isn't it?

- Are you suggesting that, on top of to solving cases for my clients, I'm also ghostwriting a gossip column?

- No, that would be hard to believe.

But you could be passing her tips.

- Well, if that's what you really think, perhaps there's some truth to what Lipstick said about "our inadequate coppers".

- Cute.

- I don't know who Lipstick is any more than you do.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.

- Yeah, I bet you do.

(streetcar bell ringing) (enigmatic music) ♪♪ (both gasping) - Nora?!

- Frankie?

- I should have known.

- Why are you always popping up where no one wants you?

- You're Lipstick?

- Sh!

A little discretion for your mother, if you don't mind.

Listen, I got a hot tip on a high profile clandestine rendezvous that's about to go down and I want to make sure I capture every juicy detail...

Wait a minute.

There is no clandestine rendezvous, is there?

- Not unless you count this as one.

- I knew it was too good to be true.

All right.

Congratulations, you've lured me here.

What do you want?

- Well, you wrote about me in your last two articles.

And not particularly kindly, I might add.

- What?

Oh.

Blame your father for that.

He should've taught you to have thicker skin.

- Well, I guess he was busy being a single parent!

- He wasn't a saint!

He was a grifter, like me.

Really?

Is this why you tricked me into coming here?

- Who's feeding you the dirt on Coco Chanel?

- A journalist never reveals her sources.

- Good thing you're not a journalist.

You're a gossip columnist.

- That is elitist!

I'm giving the people what they want.

By the way, is Coco really as tyrannical as she seems?

- Shouldn't you already know the answer to that before writing these damning articles about her?

- Frankie, why be such a stick in the mud?

Nobody likes this.

Nobody takes my stuff seriously.

It's a bunch of tittle-tattle.

- Somebody has it out for Coco and I think it's your source.

- I so wish I could help.

- Fine.

- Fine.

- I thought you would want in on the action.

- I'm getting my notes from a seamstress.

- So, it's one of the seamstresses who has been feeding Lipstick the dirt.

- Then it's Ruth.

It has to be.

- Some tips that were left in her drop box.

What is it?

- This handwriting...

I recognize it.

- You do?

- It's Dot's.

- Don't be ridiculous.

I do not have the time nor the energy to be spreading petty gossip.

- Are you sure?

Maybe you wanted to knock her down a few pegs?

- That's preposterous.

- I've known you long enough to know your own handwriting, Dot.

What's going on, Dot?

(sighing) - That magazine makes her out to be some kind of grand saviour.

The fashion world's Joan of Arc!

- So, you wanted everyone to know the real Coco.

- You fed Lipstick the inside scoop.

But why?

What's in it for you?

- Does it have something to do with your clothing line pitched with Mr. Eaton?

- Of course not.

- Dot... - I had a line of ready-to-wear dresses all set to go.

Mr. Eaton was gonna co-sign a loan for me.

But nothing happened.

- You blame Coco?

- Negotiations mysteriously fell through the moment she showed up.

That woman came from nothing.

You'd think she'd sympathize with the little people.

- And what about the shooting?

The fire?

- You think I had something to do with that?

- Well, you were one of the last people in here before the fire started.

And you could have just as easily hired the shooter as anyone else.

- You know me, Trudy.

You know I'm a God-fearing woman.

Frankly, I'm offended by the accusation.

If you'll excuse me.

(sighing) - I don't know, Frankie.

It doesn't make sense.

Dot's line is ready-to-wear and Coco's haute couture.

Technically, they're not in any competition.

- So why would Coco have her line cancelled?

- I have no idea what you're talking about.

- Dot is convinced that you sabotaged her deal with Mr. Eaton.

- Respectfully, why would I care?

- Well, that is a good question.

- For what it's worth, I believe you.

Look, I have to consider all possibilities.

It's my job!

- And this is my job, which I'm not doing particularly well.

Look at this mess!

Coco will have my head.

- Not if she never knows about it.

I'll dispose of the evidence.

(enigmatic music) - Gently!

That chiffon is pure silk!

(sighing) I have barely even spoken to Mr. Eaton.

That's Phillippe's job.

If anyone cancelled anything, it was him.

- Non!

Non!

Non, non, non, non, non!

C'est pas vrai!

- Frankie.

You might want to see this.

- (Frankie): So, this is what's left of Coco's burnt dresses?

- What's left of something, anyway.

The rule to Coco's dresses is 10 identical stitches per inch.

But look at this.

- It looks pretty close to me.

- I've seen this woman in action.

"Pretty close" doesn't cut it.

I don't think these are Coco's dresses.

I think they're imitations.

- OK. Why don't you take these swatches to Flo, see if she can confirm that they're fake.

- OK. - What did she find?

If something's going on in my atelier, I demand to know about it!

- There's nothing to report.

At least not yet.

- Then why was your partner rushing out so quickly?

- Well, she's following up on a lead, but as soon as we have anything concrete, you will be the first to know.

- I hate feeling like this.

- I get it.

You're used to being in control.

This is unsettling.

- It's not just the loss of control, Frankie.

Would it shock you terribly to hear me say...

I'm a little bit afraid?

- It would shock me more to hear if you weren't.

- Everybody thinks I'm fearless, but don't be fooled.

Fear can easily be disguised.

All it takes is a pretty dress and a simple hat.

- Perhaps it doesn't always need to be disguised.

- Never show weakness.

It's always been my survival technique.

- And are you starting to question its effectiveness?

- Possibly.

- I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, Coco.

You have my word.

- I expect no less.

- (Flo): Yep, there's no doubt about it.

I'm definitely seeing both flat twisted ribbons and scaly corkscrew patterns on this swatch.

- It's a blended fabric.

- Did the dress flare up quickly?

- Well, one minute, it's hanging neatly, and then the next, the entire row went ablaze.

- As I suspected.

It's a wool-cotton blend.

Wool burns slowly, but it's quite difficult to ignite.

So, if there were real flames, it was from the cotton.

- OK. Well, one thing's for sure, Coco Chanel's real dresses were not made of blended fabric.

She's a 100% wool jersey type of lady.

- That's a type now?

- Mm-hmm.

- So, why would someone burn fake dresses and steal Coco's originals?

- To sell them?

- That seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for whatever a handful of dresses might be worth.

- Yeah, well, there's a real market for high fashion at low prices... - So, someone stole them to copy the pattern to make cheap Chanel knock-offs?

- Well, I know a lot of gals who would kill for a Chanel dress, even if it was a knock-off.

- Wouldn't those dresses fall in the ready-to-wear category?

- Yeah.

Dot's line would have stood in direct competition to that.

- So, maybe Phillippe had it cancelled to knock-off Coco's dresses so he could sell them to Eaton's.

- It's a theory.

But how do we prove it?

- I have an idea.

Gin.

- Cheater.

You're a cheater.

(scoffing) - The poor sap bought into the story hook, line and sinker, contacted "Ambrosia" for a meeting almost as soon as the paper hit the stands.

- I will admit this Lipstick gig of yours is proving useful.

- What, your mother's good for something after all?

- Don't let it go to your head.

- With you around, how could I possibly?

All right.

I'm going in.

It's show time!

- Nora.

About your accent... - What?

- Moins c'est mieux.

- No comprendo.

- Less is more.

- Oh, aren't you the expert.

Thanks for the tip, Gloria Swanson.

- Thank you, Sergeant.

- Come with me.

There's something that I would like your opinion on.

It happened last week, a little perplexing to me.

(tense music) - Oh, Detective Greyson.

What are you doing here?

- That's my desk.

What are you doing here?

- Well, I just received a rather troubling call from one of my fellow morality officers.

- Really?

- How troubling, you might ask?

- You're gonna tell me.

- Well, it seems that she was approaching a rather questionable individual when the reprobate ran off at full speed!

- So, are you saying to me-- - That someone who runs from a morality officer is someone with something to hide?

Well, yes, that's exactly what I'm saying.

- Officer Shaw-- - So, I offered to see if I could match her visual description with one of our mug shot photos.

- That book is reserved for-- - Because I, for one, will not stand to see one of my sisters so callously disrespected!

(sighing) - Take the book.

Just make sure that it lands back on my desk.

- Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Madame Rose.

- Please, call me Ambrosia.

May I?

- Ah, oui!

This prohibition business is absolutely barbaric.

- I couldn't agree more.

- When I read about you in this paper, I was struck.

Your ideas about the future of fashion were spot on.

- Well, I stand by every word!

In the old days, only the elite were worried about fashion, but times are changing!

- It's no different in Paris.

- Yeah!

All these new women, they want to dress like Coco Chanel, but without breaking the bank, and who can blame them?

- Yes.

It is a time for a change in the world of fashion.

- Oh, I couldn't agree more, Phillippe.

There's a wave coming, and I intend to catch it.

In fact, two designers have just requested meetings with me after being equally "struck" by my words.

- Is that so?

- Yeah, a couple of Montrealers.

I mean, I was hoping to keep the trip brief, but it might just be worth the detour.

- Unless... - Unless?

- Meet me at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning.

- Au revoir, monsieur.

- Mademoiselle.

- Like taking candy from a baby.

Didn't bat an eye at my accent either.

He wants to show us some merchandise first thing in the morning.

- I'm not waiting 'til morning.

- Hey, wait!

You owe me!

These performances don't come cheap.

You know, I'm exhausted.

(sighing) ♪♪ (sighing) - Ready?

Go.

(door unlocking) - Five and half seconds!

- Still got it.

(chuckling) (tense music) (exhaling heavily) - This look familiar?

- Almost as familiar as these.

These are Coco's originals.

It's unmistakable.

You were right.

- So, Phillippe was on to something.

I mean, these knockoffs are practically identical to the originals.

- The devil's in the details.

What are you doing?

- I owe someone a payment.

A finder's fee for Ambrosia Rose.

- So, Phillippe stole Coco's patterns to create a line of knock-offs.

Doesn't he know what that would do to her?

Strange way to treat your lover.

- Even more strange to try and kill her.

- Phillippe?

I don't understand.

He loves me.

- Well, love can make people do crazy things.

- Frankie...

I've looked everywhere.

Phillippe's gone.

- Le salaud!

I'll deal with Phillippe later.

I've got a fashion show to prepare for!

With my original dresses, thanks to you.

- That is a bad idea.

Coco!

- Bad idea or not, it's happening!

Will it never end?

"Leave town.

Final warning."

- Are you sure about going on with the show?

- I never caved to pressure before, and I'm not about to start now.

(sighing) - Well, there's only one way that I'm letting you go out onto that stage.

- Stop twitching.

I need to take the shoulders in.

- Keep your eyes peeled for Phillippe or the shooter.

The flower delivery man was tall, lanky.

He had mousy-brown hair.

- Your posture, Frankie, is absolutely abysmal!

Pour l'amour de Dieu, have some self-respect.

Shoulders back!

Chin up!

- OW!

- Oh, uh, sorry.

- Are you sure this is a good idea?

- If anything happens to Coco, I'll be right there.

- Raise that hemline!

It's not a parade of nuns!

- Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

- No.

Hmm... no.

No.

Hmm... - You still at it, Shaw?

- Oh.

- I have to say that I admire your dedication.

- Thank you.

- We can't have anyone getting away with any morally questionable pursuits, can we?

- No, sir, we cannot.

- No, we cannot.

What do you say, boys?

Who's up for a quick trip to Chinatown?

I'm parched!

- (man): Come on, let's go.

See you tomorrow.

- Hmm... no.

Hello, Mr.

Flower Delivery Man.

♪♪ ♪♪ - The moment you step onto that stage, Frankie, you're in my world.

- No, I understand, but there's still-- - The hair.

Tame it.

Never forget, you're modelling an original Chanel.

♪♪ ♪♪ (applause) (fast-paced music) - (man): Marvellous!

(exclamations of approval) (gasping) (screaming) - Are you OK?

- It's just paint.

- What?!

- We have to get Coco out of here!

- Jersey!

A flexible and unrestrictive fabric for modern women on the move... - Could it have been Ruth all along?

- You don't follow up a bullet with paint.

- Frankie!

Oh...

There you are!

I've... Oh.

Oh, Coco, you really have done some revolutionary things with fashion.

- Mary, you were saying.

- Uh, our flower man!

Unsurprisingly, he does have several misdemeanors on his record.

His name is Silas Baker.

He came here from England after the war, where he served in the 23rd Division which I thought was interesting because my lucky number is 20-- - Wait.

23rd?

Are you sure?

- Yes, I'm sure I'm sure.

- The 23rd Division was Edmund's.

Edmund hired the shooter!

- Where is Edmund?

- Where's Coco?

Go!

- Well, go!

- (Edmund): He pulled a gun on me first!

I was simply defending myself!

- Like I've been defending myself against your little mind games for years!

- Have you gone crazy?

- Gentlemen.

I'm sure we can resolve this without guns.

- A little late for that, wouldn't you say?

Coco... time to choose.

- Please, Edmund!

Phillippe, fait quelque chose!

- Il a raison.

It's enough!

- Look, you're both angry, but this isn't what you want.

- Stay out of this!

- Phillippe, you thought Coco was gonna leave you, so you stole her dresses to try and ruin her.

- Non!

Not Coco!

It was Edmund's investment I was trying to ruin!

- So it was you?

You bastard!

- Edmund, you hired Silas Baker to take a shot at Coco.

- That bullet was never meant for Coco!

It was intended for Phillippe!

- Well, take your shot!

I dare you!

- Stop it!

- You two have been after each other this whole time.

- We were all having so much fun!

Why has it come to this?

- Like I told you, jealousy can be dangerous.

But you said yourselves, all you want is to make Coco happy.

And for that, it seems she needs both of you.

- For now, perhaps.

But how much longer?

- Your insecurities are complicating something so simple.

You don't see that the only person you're hurting is the one person you both claim to love... Coco.

- (whispering): You take Edmund.

- What have I become?

- Coco, everything I did, I did to win your affection.

- What do you want to do with the two of them?

- Keep them both.

Coco Chanel has work to do.

- Is it coming out at all?

- Believe me, you're making it worse.

- That dress is the real victim in all of this.

- Thanks to you, Frankie, I've made a life-changing decision.

- And what's that?

- I never again want to weigh more heavily on a man than a bird.

- Miss Chanel, I have to come clean.

I was the one feeding Lipstick all that filthy gossip.

I'm so ashamed.

- So, it was you?

Best free publicity I've had in years.

How can I possibly thank you?

- Oh!

Well, how about you talk to Mr. Eaton regarding Dot's line of dresses?

I'm wearing one of hers right now.

- The waistband is half an inch too high but I suppose that's a simple fix.

Consider my word put in.

- Really?

I couldn't possibly-- - Let's go, Dot, before you say something you'll regret.

(Dot and Trudy giggling) - I'm afraid you're gonna go back to Paris one dress short.

I tried to save it, but it looks like I've turned your little dress into a little black dress.

I'm afraid it's ruined.

- Au contraire.

You've given me quite a fabulous idea.

A bientôt, Frankie Drake.

- All right, Frankie, you've kept us in the dark long enough.

- What are you talking about?

- Spill the beans.

Who's Lipstick?

- Didn't I tell you?

She didn't show up.

- "She didn't show up"?

- At least, I didn't see her.

- Really?

Boy, she is good.

- Hey, Nora.

Going someplace nice?

- Just thought I'd pop by, say hello.

- Wow, you sure dress nice for a cup of hooch and a bowl of chop suey.

- What, this little thing?

No, you're right, it's a one of a kind!

A Coco Chanel original, practically.

- OK, well, careful with the soy sauce!

- Hello, ladies.

- (Flo): Hi... - So, a double.

- Nora, that dress!

You look stunning!

- Looks familiar.

- Thank you, Mary.

I feel stunning!

- I mean, it's so elegant and it really suits you!

It's much more understated than what you normally wear.

(Flo giggling) - Thank you, dear.

- Tell me something, Frankie.

If you couldn't find Lipstick, how did you get her to write that column about Ambrosia Rose?

- I put a request in her tip box.

- Oh, is that how you do it?

- That's the only way to reach Lipstick.

- Right, of course.

Silly me.

Nora, what do you think about Lipstick?

- Me?

Oh, well.

I mean, I only just skim the column, but, uh...

I understand she's something of a living legend.

- Really?

- A savant, you might say.

- Savant?

- I really get a kick out of Lipstick, but "savant" is a bit much.

It's mostly just silly gossip.

- Oh, well, isn't everyone a critic.

But I think if she brings a glimmer of joy into her readers' lives, then Lipstick is performing a civic duty.

- It's admittedly a bit of guilty pleasure for me and the gals on the squad.

- Oh, yeah?

- And the fact that her identity's a mystery, that's the juiciest part!

- Oh, I wonder who she could be.

- Gee, I wonder... - Guess we'll never know.

♪♪ Closed Captioning by SETTE inc (theme music) ♪♪