One episode of series three to go - and that makes for another treat in store. How can something which an Australian studio has sold to some 180 countries - including a Chinese remake - not have become more of a relishable talking point?
Word is that television showings of it have been on obscure channels - and likely to disappear as soon as they have been shown. All the more reason to celebrate a tangible box of discs. Based on a popular series of novels, the screenplays exist in their own right as each separate episode turns a startling murder-driven variant on life in 1920s Melbourne - which does not shy from some flirting which often traverses first base. Here are dresses beyond number, well-chassied cars, magnificent buildings - and even more spectacular hats worn by Essie Davis who, in the eponymous rôle, frequently doffs them, and much more, as she brings her life as an heiress to bear upon solving the unfortunate end with which each episode begins.
Such departures can be as gruesome as a decapitation during a fairground show gone wrong (it seems) but all is carried aloft more breezily than disturbingly. Here are characters and pasts in abundance (the Great War is a factor), but central figures emerge as the series develop: her seemingly prudish assistant Dot whose boyfriend is a policeman Hugh in the team run by Inspector Jack Robinson, a stiff-suited figure with whom Miss Fisher is frequently at odds while drawn in by something else about him. Not forgetting appearances by an aunt with a past - played by Miriam Margolyes. As redoubtable is a butler who displays not so much the wisdom of Solomon but that of Jeeves.
For some reason, series three is shorter than the others. One could wish for more of them - but can settle for the film made a few years later.