I hear you got a certain commodity to sell.
Number four Chinese white heroin.
95% pure. BOB: I can help.
Oh, no point in importing a product if you can't get it to market.
Want me advice, son? Go back to New Zealand.
TERRY: I plan to bring in 50, 100 kilos a year.
Don't ever stiff me, Terry. I'll bury you under an orange tree.
DON: How come certain families around here
are building jazzy new homes for cash?
Can you answer that, Bob Trimbole?
You ever mention my family again, I'll fucking kill you.
There's an Italian going round town looking for a hit man.
Who's the target? He doesn't know.
That's what I call useless information.
Who was that loudmouth back there?
Just a pest. I'm dealing with him.
(SILENCED GUNSHOT)
Where is he now? FRANK: Pet food.
Fred put him through a meat grinder.
(THEME MUSIC)
SONG: ♪ It's a jungle out there
♪ It's a jungle out there.
♪ It's a jungle out there. ♪
(BIRDS SQUAWK)
Here you go.
Do you know how much trouble you've caused? You fat fucking dago!
No call for language, Malcolm.
Fuck me! You could have not picked a worse guy if you tried. Don Mackay?
I don't know nothing about it!
And setting me up as your alibi.
How about a nice cappuccino?
I don't want a cappu-fucking-cino! I want an explanation!
So do the boys in town. They're not happy, mate.
Now, worst comes to worst, I arrest you and I deny everything.
Six months time, no-one will even remember his name!
(PHONE RINGS)
Yeah?
Hey, Franco!
What news?
Paesan!
You tell Ray Chuck I'd be thrilled to meet him.
LIZ: "The wife of Griffith businessman
"and anti-drug campaigner Mr Don Mackay
"believes her husband is dead.
"But she said yesterday she did not know
"who would have wanted to kill him.
"Mr Mackay has been missing since Friday night."
Could this be our man?
The mystery Italian's mystery Aussie hit man?
It's stretching the logic a bit, isn't it, sir?
How many contract killings occur in Australia in any one year?
MAN: Sir, I've got the chief of Sydney detectives on the line.
Inspector Bill Allen.
Joe Messina, Victorian Major Crimes, Bill. Thanks for taking my call.
What can I do for you, Joe?
The Mackay case in Griffith - we have information
Italian interests were scouting for a shooter in Melbourne.
I was wondering if there's any connection.
Talking hard evidence, are we? More rumour, to be honest.
No names, certainly.
Yeah, thanks for your interest, Joe,
but, uh, we've got that well in hand.
I've sent a hand-picked Homicide team down to Griffith.
Cheerio.
(SIGHS) (CHUCKLES WRYLY)
(REPLACES PHONE RECEIVER)
JACQUl: Detective Sergeant Phil De La Salle was absolutely thrilled
when they handed him the Mackay case.
He'd never headed up a murder inquiry before.
72 hours after the shots were fired,
he drove into Griffith bright-eyed, bushy-tailed,
bursting with confidence.
Those look like drag marks. Looks like murder, boss.
Murder requires a body, Warwick.
Until such time as we have a body, or the coroner tells us otherwise,
this is a disappearance.
Don't we have to assume foul play?
Let's not make reckless accusations. Whole world's watching, Warwick.
Phil, is it? Malcolm Paris.
Mobbs.
What's your reading, Malcolm?
We reckon it's all a bit suss, you know? Something doesn't smell right.
What, because there's no body? Oh, there's no body, you know.
Take a look at the blood spray, the strategically placed shells.
You know, I'm no forensics expert, but I reckon it all looks a bit staged,
like someone's trying to convince us that Mackay's dead,
if you know what I mean.
So, why would he disappear? Did he have money worries?
Did he have marital problems? Oh, who doesn't, mate?
Eh? (SNIGGERS)
Was he a friend of yours, Malcolm?
Oh, me and Don had a lot of respect for each other, yeah.
Don have any enemies?
Lot of people hate politicians. You're not wrong, Warwick.
A few weeks ago, a bloke called Bob Trimbole
actually threatened to kill him, you know?
Yes, no problem. Gentlemen.
Ray Bennett.
Also go by the name of Ray Chuck.
I thought you were supposed to be in stir in Pommyland.
I was. Now I'm back.
Ray Chuck. The armed robber's armed robber.
He'd learned his trade at the feet of the masters -
London's notorious Wembley Gang.
I got a job on.
Need to move a large amount of cash overseas.
Now, Frank here says you got ways and means.
How large?
Could be huge. Millions.
Where do you want to shift it to?
The Philippines. Manila.
Oh, shouldn't be a problem.
The place is awash with Aussie dollars.
We could, uh, use a legit route
and use a shopfront bank like the Bank of Cyprus
or we could move it through a solicitor's trust fund.
That's tried and true.
But I reckon simple's the best.
Why don't we just walk the money in suitcases onto a cargo boat?
Boat docks in Manila, cases are walked off again,
Ray Chuck's there to collect and Bob's your uncle.
No, fuck that.
The wharves are controlled
by Brian and Les fucking Kane and their mates.
Now, I got no intention - none whatsoever -
of cutting those greedy bastards in.
Huh? Understand?
Fair enough, but I'm talking ANL Sydney, not Melbourne.
The boats in there do the Philippines run regular.
Our fee is 8% of the takings.
Gentlemen.
What's the job?
Bob. Manners.
Where the bloody hell have you been?
This thing in Griffith - any chance the cops will trace it back to you?
What do you think I am, an amateur like you?
Bob!
Why'd you have to kill him?
Ah, it's an example to any other clam
who thinks about giving us any grief.
If they do look into it, Bob, what they gonna find?
Relax, kid. Nobody knows. They're gonna find me.
I said relax!
Here. Buy yourself a lolly.
(HORN HONKS)
Girls.
Hair of the dog?
Any news on the bush telegraph, Brian? Re: Donald Bruce Mackay?
Well, I'm told the brass aren't too keen on making an arrest.
That's why they've sent Supercop to Griffith.
That is, if he can find the joint.
By the way, your, uh, your Kiwi buddy, Greg OIlard,
he's moonlighting.
(SCOFFS) Mate. He wouldn't dare stiff me.
BRIAN: A narcotic agent on the payroll's been tailing him.
He's setting up his own supply line.
He just got off a flight from Bangkok.
What do you think he was doing up there, Philip?
Ping-pong championships?
See ya, ladies.
He said he was on holiday in Bali.
Yeah, well, he's got to be planning to undercut us.
Otherwise he wouldn't have kept it a secret.
I'll handle Greg.
Terry's old prison buddy, Greg OIlard,
was his key heroin distributor in Sydney.
Everyone was making big money.
But greedy Greg wanted more.
Greedy, stupid Greg.
Only a stupid man cheated Terry Clark.
TERRY: Greg.
Uh-oh.
What's up, chief?
How long have we been mates?
Oh, I don't know.
Back in stir. '74.
What have I done, Greg?
Why don't you love me anymore?
What do you mean? I know about Bangkok.
Setting up your own supply.
Look, Terry... Why would you do that?
Go behind my back? Betray me?
I just thought that... I know what you thought.
You thought you'd steal my customers.
Undercut me. Send me broke.
That's what you thought. Mate, no, no, no, no, don't.
It was just a spur-of-the-moment...
...just stupid piece of insanity, OK?
I mean, where am I gonna find Chinese white, huh?
You're the only guy that customers want to deal with.
(LAUGHS) I've got nothing to worry about?
Mate, not a thing.
Not a thing.
I can count on your loyalty?
Cross my heart.
And hope to die.
Gaw! (LAUGHS) You scared me.
Make me a drink.
It was the drug people.
Had to be.
That's not what you said to the press, though, Barbara.
Because I'm terrified of them.
That's why.
If they come after me, what happens to my family?
Don spoke out against them every chance he got.
And that's the way to make enemies around here.
Is it possible he walked out on you and he made it look like a murder?
No.
But is it impossible that he was involved with another woman?
I knew my husband.
He was the most decent man I've ever met.
PHIL: "lf you make accusations against my family,
"I will effing kill you."
Did you say that to him?
Something like that. Strong words.
Did you mean it? Course I didn't!
I was het-up.
You threatened to kill a man who's now missing.
Possibly dead.
OK.
Where were you Friday night from 6:00 onwards?
I was having a business dinner with associates at La Scala.
It's an Italian restaurant here in town.
OK, can you give me some names?
Sure.
Malcolm Paris was there.
Country town, Warwick. Everybody knows everybody.
PHIL: Do you grow pot, Mr Trimbole?
Now, you wouldn't be asking me that if I was Mr Jones, would you?
You're welcome to search my place.
I got nothing to hide.
I've never been in trouble with the law in me life.
Are we finished?
'Cause I'm rooted.
Pizza night at the Coronation Club, mate.
Malcolm will give you the gen.
Got a bit worked up there, matey?
PHIL: Talk to Mackay's bank first thing.
If we take Malcolm with us, I doubt we'll need a warrant.
What do you make of him?
Malcolm?
Well, he and Trimbole are a little too close with each other for mine.
Yeah, so, what's the population, hmm? 12,000, 15,000?
Course they know each other.
What's the first thing a good copper does
when he moves to a new town, Warwick?
Shakes everybody's hand. Yeah, this is Griffith, Phil.
Bloody heartland of the cannabis industry.
Coppers take money to look the other way. You know that.
So, what are you saying? Malcolm's involved in Mackay's disappearance?
Or murder, maybe.
But I know I don't bloody trust him.
Who was it that pointed us to Trimbole?
Since he's Trimbole's alibi, maybe he thought it was worth the risk.
Listen, mate.
We weren't sent here to take on the coppers.
Got it?
G'day, Ray.
Long time, no see.
Ooh.
Hey. You put your roots down, mate.
Call yourself a Pommy bastard.
What brings you boys all the way out to Keilor, huh?
Jungle drums are beating, mate.
Ooga-booga. Ooga-booga.
Ray Chuck's got a job on.
It's a good thing you haven't lost your work ethic, Ray.
Sorry, boys, I got nothing on. In fact, I'm going back to the wharves.
We don't need to know what the job is.
In fact, we don't care, mate. We don't.
But what you gotta remember, Ray,
is nothing's changed.
So if you want our tick of approval...
Ray, you want our tick of approval, mate.
...we get a big drink out of it.
I didn't do hard time over there
to come home and get butt... fucked.
Yeah?
(SIGHS)
OK, Ray.
Pit bulls. Born and bred to fight.
Alright, mate.
To sink their teeth in and hang on like grim death
until the last drop of blood was spilt.
And pretty soon, the blood would start flowing.
MAN: Miss.
Chris Flannery and Laurie Prendergast.
Identical twins.
Except they weren't blood-related.
Anyway, they loved each other like brothers,
which means they fought like cat and dog
and never missed a chance to hang shit on each other.
Listen, getting a few heads together for a job coming up.
I'll put your name forward if youse interested.
Who? Ray Chuck.
Ray Chuck? Yeah.
You're pulling my leg. No. I'm deadly serious, mate.
See ya.
(CHUCKLES)
Vinnie Mikkelsen, wasn't it?
What'd he want? Nothing.
He's got a job on, hasn't he?
Ray Chuck.
Talk to me, Laurie, you devious little fucker!
RAY: 27.
28.
29.
Come on, ladies.
Now, down. 10 push-ups.
One, two, three, four. Come on.
Five, six, seven, eight.
Nine, ten.
Take a break, ladies. Well done.
Fuck!
Hey, hey.
No smoking.
We need fitness if we're gonna get this job done.
OK? LAURIE: Give us a hint, Ray.
Bank? Payroll? Armoured car? What?
You'll know when you need to know.
(SNIFFS)
CHRIS: Hey, fellas. Ray.
Flannery, what are you doing here?
Thought I could lend a hand.
Wheel man, second gun.
Whatever. I'll do anything, mate.
Look, I don't know what you're talking about.
We're just... getting ourselves fit. Yeah?
Yeah? I'm already fit, mate.
Everyone says you're a psycho. (LAUGHS)
I'll let Mother know when I get home, then, will I?
Come on, eh?
You can't have too many psychos on the team, now, can you?
Right, come on.
Hey, mate. Chris Flannery. How are ya?
Hey.
Chris Flannery. How you doing?
G'day, mate. How are you? Chris Flannery.
RAY: Now, job day. So three of you fat bastards won't make it.
Which three?
Who's up to it? Who's not?
Four.
BRUCE: Don was supposed to go to Jerilderie to see a Mr Adams
about furnishing a house.
Except, um, a family friend died suddenly
and he had to help with the funeral.
I took my father-in-law along for the drive. We went in Don's Fairlane.
Very comfortable touring car, the Fairlane.
(CLEARS THROAT) Anyway...
We did see a bloke in a white Ford sedan parked nearby.
I reckon there never was a Mr Adams. I think it was the murderer.
That's who the bloke in the white Ford was.
We don't know it's a murder. It was a murder, believe me.
I know Don Mackay. You don't. OK. Are you sure it was a Ford?
Yeah, it had the 4.1 badges on the front mudguard.
Registration number?
Um...
Sorry.
But I'd recognise the bloke that drove it.
WARWICK: Description?
BRUCE: I reckon the bloke was... mid-40s.
Um, he was wearing a suit.
A suit? Yeah, a suit.
He was clean-shaven, around 5'7", dark hair. That's it.
Ever heard of a hit man walking into a country town
wearing a bag of fruit?
I think we should shoot over there,
see if we can find ourselves a witness.
Jerilderie's a 3-hour drive, mate. You'd have to overnight it.
I'm game. Boss?
Any time you like.
MALCOLM: I'll go along, Phil. Keep the lad on the straight and narrow.
Why not? That's the way to investigate a homicide.
Ruling out suspects, Warwick.
MAN: Skip, a Mr Forrester on the phone for you.
He's got some information on Friday night.
I'm driving into town this way, right?
Yep.
As I approach the bend, I notice a car coming the other way.
White Ford Fairmont.
What, coming from Griffith? Yeah.
And just as I get to it, this other car comes screaming up behind it.
Pulls out right in front of me and overtakes.
Did you get the make and the model? EJ Holden.
Green with a white roof.
Constable, I want you to place an alert
on a green EJ Holden with a white roof.
OK, car leaving Griffith on Hillston Road at high speed
between 6:30 and 7:00 Friday night.
No worries, skipper.
And I want you to place an advert in every local paper within 100 miles.
Appealing for information. You write it, I'll place it.
Detective Inspector Messina, Victoria Police. Bill Allen, please.
He's expecting you, is he, sir?
No, but he'll get over the shock.
BILL: Assuming this mystery Italian is connected to Mackay,
how is that a Victoria Police matter?
The conspiracy to murder may have occurred in Victoria.
At this stage, we are just talking disappearance,
perhaps engineered by Mackay himself - no-one's talking murder.
Crooks knocking off crooks is one thing.
Killing politicians, we can't allow that, can we, Bill?
Police across the country have to draw a line in the sand.
I'm late for a meeting.
We've canvassed dozens of people who live and work
around the Jerilderie post office and motel,
and we couldn't find a soul who remembers seeing the killer's Ford.
Now we're convinced he's the killer, are we?
I'm talking about Bruce Pursehouse. Dozens!
Jerilderie's a red bloody herring.
We barely interviewed anyone. He had it all worked out.
He does not want to find the guy in the white Ford.
('WIDOW WOMAN' BY CWT PLAYS)
(SPEAKS INAUDIBLY)
(SONG CONTINUES)
Terry Clark was making money hand over fist.
He bought himself a posh Sydney waterfront property for $150,000,
paid in cash.
But it was small beer. He wanted the world.
Which meant taking on more couriers -
reckless fools like Harry Lewis, known as Pommy.
Ha-ha! Get it right! Harry. Let's step outside.
Andy.
Little boy's willy, Bob? A lovely spread, Maria.
Grouse place, Terry.
Yeah, very classy, Tel. What, did you buy it for cash?
You ready for tomorrow? Absolutely, mate.
They're right to go, Tel. Yeah. We know what to do.
Buy yourself another one next week.
Don't ever do a run when you're drunk.
Or stoned. Or hungover.
Now go home, get some sleep.
OK.
How are things in Singapore?
They're good.
Marty behaving himself?
Sure. Keep an eye on him for me.
OK.
(GLASS SMASHES)
Can you go look after my shit? Yeah.
Surprised to see your pal Greg here.
He's undercutting us,
using our bloody network to sell his bloody gear.
Me...
...I'd set an example.
Prove to me you're not just another Kiwi wanker.
TERRY: How you doing?
Fine.
What's with you?
Greg.
Greg? You know what he calls you?
A poser.
How can you be mates with him?
TERRY: It's obvious you're not happy.
GREG: Mate, I'm as happy as a pig in shit.
No, let's be honest. It's not working.
You're better off trying to run your own outfit, Greg.
Rather a 2IC that was 100% happy, not just 90%.
You know?
This is what I'm thinking.
Pay you what I owe you.
Plus a few extras.
We'll shake hands, part as friends.
What do you say?
What extras?
How's a brand-new car sound?
Plus a bag of your favourite scag as a bonus.
I could live with that.
Lennie McPherson?
I am he.
Phil Scott.
I rang you.
A lot of people ring me.
About buying a gun.
Now, what do you want a gun for, Scotty?
There's this bloke...
Don't go around telling everybody, you nitwit!
Just give me the cash.
Sweetheart, you happy?
Lennie.
Show me how to use it? Point and shoot, Scotty.
Point and shoot.
Terrence John Clark felt the weight of the cold steel in his hand,
knowing that it would soon grow hot.
Today a man must die.
Whenever Terry Clark brought merchandise into the country,
he did what lots of other businessmen do - he warehoused it.
Except Terry's warehouse was Ku-ring-gai Chase -
an entire national park north of Sydney.
See, the problem with the 280Z, it's heavier than the 260
and much, much heavier than the 240Z.
That's why I want to get the 240. Better power-to-weight ratio.
Japanese crap. What?
Datsuns. Be a man.
Get a Jag.
This is it.
Yeah?
Dig right here.
There?
How deep is it, mate?
Come on, Greg. Yeah, I'll get there.
(BLOWS)
(LAUGHS)
Help yourself to as many as you think you deserve.
You're the best, Tel.
I mean that.
You really are a greedy bastard, aren't you?
('YOU'VE GOT TROUBLES (I'VE GOT MINE)' PLAYS)
♪ I see that worried look upon your face
♪ You've got your troubles
♪ I've got mine
♪ You've found somebody else to take my place
♪ You've got your troubles and I've got mine
♪ I too have lost my love today
♪ All of my dreams have blown away
♪ Now, just like you, I sit and wonder why
♪ You've got your troubles and I've got mine. ♪
You don't like it?
No, it's... Iovely.
Did I overcook it?
No.
Thanks.
What exactly were you doing today?
I was helping Greg pack up his things.
He's gonna hitchhike to London or... some hippie bullshit.
Good riddance.
(GUNSHOT ECHOES)
Can't we afford wine in bottles?
A cold beer, or...
...is that not allowed?
Not allowed and not required, Mr Trimbole.
You a collector?
Oh, me and a mate supply pinball machines all through the Riverina.
It's a good lurk.
Did you organise, facilitate or participate
in the murder of Donald Bruce Mackay?
On my mother's eyes, I did not.
Well, your alibi for Friday night's a bit too good to be true, isn't it?
What do you mean?
Well, you even organised for a local copper to be there.
I often entertain businesspeople from the district.
Right. Malcolm Paris is not a businessman.
Well, I like to maintain good relationships
with the local constabulary.
I mean, I'd be mad if I didn't.
Do you mind if I imbibe?
Sure.
(BOTTLES CLINK)
Sandwich wouldn't be breaking the rules, surely?
Help yourself.
I will learn the truth.
Know that, Mr Trimbole.
Enjoy your lunch.
PHIL: When's that?
Um, yeah, that'd be fine.
OK. Hey, listen, get Amy to call back.
Alright. See ya.
Hey, um...
...do you take money, Malcolm?
Like, if I got a warrant to access your bank accounts,
what would I find?
Come on, mate, it's no accident.
The cannabis industry round here's out of control.
You've been looking the other way for a long time now.
It's not just you, I know that.
Even this bloody building's got a smell about it, hasn't it?
Dry rot.
And garlic.
Listen, mate, if you tell me the whole story,
I will move heaven and earth to protect you.
If you're thinking of turning this into some kind of witch-hunt,
I wouldn't recommend it, Phil.
The boys up in Sydney would not be happy.
(CRUNCHES CONE)
I want to thank you gentlemen for putting your hands up for this job.
As you know, we only need six men.
As a show of my appreciation for your efforts,
the unlucky ones get a 10 grand sweetener when it's done.
OK? Spud.
Champ. You're not required.
Stanley. Sorry, mate.
Chris. Same goes for you.
I'll see you round, boys. Now, listen.
If you want that 10 grand, keep your mouth shut.
OK.
Oi.
You out of your fucking head, Chuck?
I'm the fittest of the bunch.
You said it yourself, Chris. You're a psycho.
I can't afford a psycho.
MAN: Hey, hey! Get into him, Ray!
Ray, come on, you filthy fucking...
You fucking prick!
Ray, you didn't tell me there was gonna be a floor show.
Want to see a floor show? Be at the Victorian Club on Tuesday.
(SPEAKS ITALIAN) That's huge.
A plum just waiting to be picked.
(FANFARE PLAYS)
After every major race meeting, the bookies get together for drinks
to settle up with the major punters,
here in the Victorian Club settling room.
Just before noon, the Armaguard van arrives
with a stack of steel crates full of bookies' cash bags.
Now, those cash bags are taken upstairs under guard
to this security room here.
It takes approximately 60 seconds for the guards to get from the lifts
to the door of the security room - now, that's when we hit 'em.
(MEN SHOUT)
Down! On the ground! Get down!
SONG: ♪ Tomorrow night
♪ Going to the casino
♪ Tomorrow night... ♪
Shut up!
♪ What could possibly go wrong? ♪
Shut the fuck up! Get on the ground!
♪ What could possibly go wrong? ♪
Quick!
(SHOUTS)
(WOMAN SCREAMS)
Shut up! Stay down!
How much cash are we talking about, you reckon?
Could be up to a couple of million.
♪ What could possibly go wrong?
♪ See, see, see, see, see, yeah What could possibly... ♪
Fucking get down!
Well?
Estimates start at 1.5, sir.
Where do they stop?
Oh, could go as high as 12.
(LAUGHS)
$12 million.
All over in 11 minutes, not a shot fired.
(LAUGHS) Talk about military precision.
Who do we know that's smart enough to pull off a job like this?
Who was it? Who was it?
Ray Chuck. Course it wasn't Ray Chuck.
He wouldn't fucking dare. Read it.
CHRIS: It was Chuck.
I know for a fact.
Fucking what?
Ray Chuck.
Fuck you!
Fucking Chuck!
He's a fucking dead man.
Fucking dead man walking.
♪ Going to the casino. ♪
Morning.
Seen the papers?
"Police investigating the disappearance
"of Griffith businessman... "
"... Donald Bruce Mackay are inquiring into a suggestion
"that he received a hoax... " "... telephone call
"to meet a customer... " "... at Jerilderie... "
"... at 10:30pm... "
"... at 10:30pm... " (LAUGHS)
"... on Tuesday 12 July."
How did they mix up am and pm? Yeah, look.
I don't think anyone will be put off with a simple typo, Warwick.
MALCOLM: I don't think you've got too much to worry about. Do you?
When there's good news, I always like...
...to share it around.
(LAUGHS)
(TRAIN RATTLES PAST)
(SIGHS)
G'day, Mal.
What news from the bush?
Relax, Baz. Everything's sweet.
(PAPER RUSTLES)
Bonus for you and the boys.
('BAD HABITS' PLAYS)
♪ I can't help myself Bad habits... ♪
G'day, buddy. G'day, Barry.
How's it going? Good.
♪ I'm running wild Lost control
♪ And it's a shame to think... ♪
Gary? Cheese and tomato.
♪ That a boy like me
♪ Has got so many bad habits... ♪
Jim.
Jimmy. Ham and salad.
Thank you, Baz.
Dennis in?
♪ My resistance fails... ♪
Excuse me, Dennis. Lunchtime. Yeah, why not?
You know the team. Barry.
Trevor. G'day, Trevor.
Have a sandwich.
Ta. Bill in?
Talk later.
DENNIS: We'll do more than that.
♪ Bad habits
♪ Well, it just ain't right
♪ That it's something I can't fight
♪ I can't stop going out and having fun
♪ Well, I tried to be good
♪ But I knew I never could
♪ 'Cause I've got more bad habits than anyone
♪ When I get the urge
♪ I just got to splurge
♪ I'm a slave to all my desires
♪ Well, I'm in a mess
♪ Because I can't repress... ♪
(KNOCK ON DOOR)
MAN: Come in. Sandwich, Bill.
With all the trimmings?
Please.
No-one will ever know how much the great bookie robbery netted,
but it was enough to grease a whole lot of palms.
FRANK: "Mrs Barbara Mackay said her husband had no enemies.
"She said he had a lot of friends.
"The things he did were things to help people."
You're going straight to hell, Bob.
Oh.
I wonder if they do room service in this dump.
Listen to this - "The only persons who had reasons to fear him
"were those who were threatened by his efforts to do something
"about the growing of marijuana."
Get rid of one pest, another pest sticks her head up.
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
(CLOSES CASES)
You right?
G'day. Come in.
Bob Jones.
So I can trust these babies to your keeping?
Sweet.
Big drink in it for you and your mates if they get to Manila safely.
FRANK: Ray Chuck will be there to meet you, OK?
(DOOR CLOSES)
Horrie?
Both dogs died in agony.
Someone had fed them poison baits.
You bloody bastards!
(SOBS)
It was them.
The Coleambally people.
Same ones who killed Don.
Punishing me for talking to the press.
All the Coleambally men had alibis on the night that he was...
...he was killed.
We checked every last one of them, Barb.
You're never gonna solve this, are you?
I'll get you a cup of tea.
I won't stop till I get them.
I don't care how long it takes.
(SOBS)
Even if Phil De La Salle had been competent, it wouldn't have mattered.
The police investigation was doomed from the start.
After all, this was New South Wales.
You were right.
The fix was in all along.
Used to think being hand-picked was a good thing.
(CLOSES DOOR)
We're not gonna do this forever, are we?
What?
The business.
You're not going to jail?
I'm never going back to jail.
Good.
'Cause I missed my period.
I never miss my period.
You're gonna be a good dad, Terry.
BOB: French plonk again? What's wrong with the local drop?
We're toasting fatherhood.
How much did you make from the bookie robbery?
Why?
I don't like you branching out.
I want you to concentrate on our business.
You're not my boss, son.
You're my partner.
Junior partner.
The junior partner...
...is you.
I got a prezzie for you too.
Filipino porn.
We send 'em cash, they send back porno.
Something in there for everyone.
Even a sheep-shagging wanker like you.
Bob, I'll have you know, I'm a family man.
(LAUGHS)
The Age of Aquarius was dead.
The age of hard drugs was dawning.
Aussie Bob and Kiwi Terry were on their way.
Each had killed to protect his business.
Both would kill again.