('SHAKIN' ALL OVER' BY NORMIE ROWE)
SONG: # Well, when you move in right up close to me
# Well, that's when I get the shakes all over me
# Quivers down my backbone
# I got the shakes in my knee bones
# I get a tremor in my thigh bones
# Shakin' all over
# Well, just the way that you say goodnight to me
# Brings a feeling of... #
(THEME SONG)
SONG: # It's a jungle out there
# It's a jungle out there
# It's a jungle out there. #
(OVERLAPPING VOICES)
('THIS TIME' BY DRAGON PLAYS)
JACQUl: Terry Clark arrived in Sydney from Auckland in the mid-'70s.
Like Carl Williams, he started out as a small-time crim,
a nobody who wanted to be somebody.
And just like Carl,
he knew that soon the big money was gonna be in drugs - hard drugs.
Good to see you, man.
Hey, you need a place to crash? Hey? Pick a room, any room.
Mind sharing a bed with a couple of naked birds?
# This time... # It's Dragon, man. Where it's at.
Fuck Split Enz. Fucking posers.
Greg's their manager.
Aka roadie, eh? (WHISTLING)
# In the right direction
# In the right direction. #
Robert Trimbole.
Thanks for coming.
How old are you, kid? 15?
What's on your mind?
You know who I am? I asked around.
I hear you got a certain commodity to sell. I can help.
Yeah? How?
Well, no point in importing a product if you can't get it to market.
You trying to muscle in on me?
This ain't a sheep farm, kid.
It's a big territory, Australia.
How are you going to reach your customers, carrier pigeon?
I've got networks in Sydney and Melbourne.
No offence, mate, but I'm not looking for another partner.
Come on, relax. Let's have a feed, talk it over.
You... you like Chinese?
JACQUl: Aussie Bob had built a career
on knowing everyone who mattered,
and knowing exactly how to call in a favour when he needed one.
George. Mate! Bob.
Mate, I've been doing the form for tomorrow.
Eagle Farm's the go, I can fuckin' feel it.
Robert, it's me day off, mate.
Come on, mate. Be a pal.
That horse is a cat.
Because it's been ridden upside down by camel jockeys.
BOB: Give me eights?
Sevens, Robert.
I'll give you sevens.
10 grand. On the nose.
Mate, you're into me for 40-odd Gs already, aren't ya, huh?
When are we gonna see that?
Hey, mate, do you hear anything about a bloke called Terry Clark?
Never heard of him, mate. Never heard of him.
Kiwi. Junior partner in that big deal in NZ. 'Brigadoon'?
Briga-what, mate?
Boat called the 'Brigadoon' brought a load of pot into New Zealand.
Now he's operating out of Sydney.
Drugs aren't my scene, mate.
Been telling folks he's going to be bigger than George Freeman.
What do you want, Robert? Why are you bugging me?
Mate, I just don't like cheeky little shitheads taking your name in vain.
Man of your high repute.
JACQUl: George Freeman. The original colourful racing identity.
Freeman never heard of him. That means he's small time.
But why do you want to get into heroin, anyway, huh?
That stuff is dangerous shit.
It's where the big money is, mate. Come on, Bob!
Come on. We've got to get these machines out.
That's got to go to Jerilderie, that to Leeton.
And, uh, hey, don't mention that, huh?
You're not thinking of stiffing the Padrini?
They'll cut you up, Bob.
Feed you to the pigs. Ehh!
Some of my best friends are pigs.
('FREAK YA LONELINESS' BY BUMBLEBEEZ)
JACQUl: George Freeman knew a thing or two
about dealing with cheeky little shitheads.
Invite him to a meet-and-greet and give him a big kiss.
SONG: # Come on, baby
# It's time I let you know
# Your scented lips
# Oh, I love you so
# So come on, girl
# I think we should take a chance
# I think this just might be the world's greatest romance... #
(GROANS)
# I wanna freak your Ioneliness
# I wanna freak your Ioneliness... #
Do you want my advice, son?
Go back to New Zealand and shag some sheep. Stay safe.
Have a fuckin' lovely day.
('TAKE MY LOVE WITH YOU' BY ELI 'PAPERBO Y' REED & TRUE LOVES)
SONG: # You know sometimes
# I'm so far away from you, darling
# You ought to take my love with you
# Everywhere you go, oh!
# You ought to take my love, baby... #
JACQUl: Griffith was the cannabis capital of Australia - Calabrian mafia country.
Aussie Bob's heartland.
# My love, baby
# Everywhere you go
# In the street
# In a crowd
# When you're home all alone
# You ought to take my love with you
# Everywhere you go. #
Jesus, what happened to you, kid? What brings you here?
Delivering an olive branch.
What, you drove 300 miles to give me a bottle of French plonk?
Picked you as a connoisseur.
(LAUGHS)
Well, now you're here, we might as well rip the cork out.
JACQUl: You can't tell the story of Aussie Bob and Kiwi Terry
without telling the story of a furniture salesman from Griffith.
Hello, mate.
Ah.
I'm here to see Detective Sergeant Paris. Don Mackay.
He's down the corridor. Go through. Thanks.
Coleambally, you said? Let's take a look at the map.
Five miles out of Coleambally. Just off the Waddy Road.
And you've seen this alleged Indian hemp with your own eyes, Don?
Locals who have are in no doubt.
Well, which locals? I have to interview 'em, get statements.
Well, we both know that's not gonna happen. It's right there.
People are frightened to talk in public. That's why they come to me.
With all due respect to these good citizens,
isn't it more likely to be, you know, a tomato crop?
Inside a national park? Protected under lock and key?
Guarded by men with guns? Mate, all I'm saying...
I don't know where you've been hiding.
They're calling us the pot capital of Australia.
OK, look, can you leave this with me?
No, I can't.
I'm just telling you as a courtesy.
I've already contacted the Premier,
the Police Minister and the Leader of the Opposition.
You don't act on this, mate, it's gonna look pretty bloody bad.
JACQUl: There's always been good cops and bad cops,
but in the '70s, we had a hell of a lot of bad cops.
Where's a Mack truck when you need one?
BOB: Tell me about this... stock.
Number four Chinese white heroin.
95% pure. Best in the world.
Nobody gets their hands on shit that pure.
You got a sample? Not yet.
We got a word for blokes like you over here. Wanker.
I will have. I plan to bring in 50, 100 kilos a year.
That'd make you Mr Big, mate. The biggest Mr Big.
Big target too.
That's why I need your protection.
I can see that now.
How does a little fink like you get his hands on that much white?
Got an associate in Singapore.
Plugged directly into the Golden Triangle.
He can deliver as much as I can move.
Come on, let's take a stroll.
Have a look at the oranges.
How're you going to bring it into the country? By boat?
Maybe. Mostly by courier.
My folks came out here in the '30s. Nearly worked themselves to death.
Typical bloody wogs.
You got false IDs for these couriers?
Not yet.
I'll lend you a towel and you can dry behind your ears.
I can get my hands on any number of blank birth certificates
so you can get genuine passports.
So we've got a deal, then?
Yeah, sure.
Uh, my cut's 25 points of your profit.
(LAUGHS)
Maybe you don't know exactly who I am.
I know, Bob.
(COCKS GUN) Stop right there.
You turn around and kneel down.
Turn around, kneel down.
You see that tree on your left?
Look under it. Go on, do it.
Go on, grab it. It won't bite.
Open it.
Dope.
(SNIFFS)
For me?
Think of it as a bottle of French plonk.
What's with the fucking gun?
Don't ever stiff me, Terry. I'll bury you under an orange tree.
Now you prove to me you're not just another Kiwi wanker
and bring me a kilo of 95% pure.
WOMAN ON P. A: Cathay Pacific Flight 100...
G'day, mate. How're you going?
First time out of the country, Mr Perkins?
To tell you the truth, mate, I'm a bit nervous.
Flying's safer than catching a bus.
(CACOPHONY OF VOICES, TRAFFIC HUBBUB)
('BEAUTIFUL OKINAWA' BY SONOTON PLAYS)
(SCOTTISH ACCENT) Terry!
Hell, it's good to see you, pal.
It's really good. You're looking good.
Are you hungry? They do a terrific seafood barbecue here.
You got the gear? Sure we have, yeah.
Two kilos? It's a wee bit under, actually.
I said two. Marty promised two.
Oh, it's beautiful stuff, man.
It's 90% pure. It's fucking gorgeous.
I promised Trimbole 95%.
Well, this is the best there is.
Have you got the cash? Marty asked me to ask you.
He'll have it when I'm ready.
Well, he's got people to pay now.
When he delivers what he promises, I'll pay.
Bring the gear to my hotel.
(COCKNEY ACCENT) Hello, darling. Hello, darlin'. Phil Perkins.
(REFINED ACCENT) Hello. I'm Dr Philip Perkins.
Philip Perkins, British Petroleum. Do you accept US dollars?
Get your dirty stinking hands off my luggage.
Next?
Hello.
Good, thank you. How are you?
Staying long? A few weeks.
Enjoy your stay. Thank you, sir.
Excuse me, sir.
Would you mind opening your suitcase? Of course.
I'm sorry.
How long have they had girls working in Customs?
Maybe I should travel more. Is that the wrong thing to say?
I... I didn't mean to embarrass you.
I just believe in acting on my instinct.
You're a very beautiful woman.
I'm Phil, by the way.
Thank you. Move along.
Sorry if I offended you.
JACQUl: Terry Clark loved women. Women loved Terry Clark.
Maria Muhary loved Terry Clark.
She dropped everything and crossed the Tasman to be with him,
because Terry had a special something.
What was it Ava Gardner said about Sinatra?
There's only 10 pounds of Frank but a 110 pounds of cock.
Naughty boy.
Fuck, Terry.
Oh!
Where do you get your energy?
It's seeing you again.
Clearing Customs gave you a wee bit of a charge too. Admit it.
Maybe a bit. Right.
Mmm.
You been screwing anyone?
Don't ruin it.
Guess what. What?
I've stopped taking the pill.
Give me a good strong boy.
DON: Can someone tell me why growing pot is not a crime in New South Wales?
Every other state has a law
specifically outlawing the growing and cultivation of marijuana.
But not here. Not in New South Wales, no.
Here, to get a conviction,
you have to nab the buggers in the act of selling the stuff.
Now, do we really want to be known as the pot capital of Australia?
Is that what we want for our town? I say no. What do you say?
CROWD: No!
If we're serious about stamping out illegal drugs in our community,
then we've gotta make the growing of the stuff illegal, don't we?
I mean, how come... how come certain families around here
are driving around in jazzy new cars,
building jazzy new homes for cash?
Get up there and stop him! You've gotta let a man talk, Bob.
DON: Living like kings in grass castles
while the rest of us are doing it tough, yeah.
Can you answer that, Bob Trimbole?
Excuse me, excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.
I'd like...
Waiting for an answer, Mr Trimbole.
You don't mind, Don, thank you very much.
Now, ladies and gentlemen, calm down, calm down.
You know who I am, Al Grassby,
Federal Commissioner for Community Relations,
and I would like to second Don Mackay's remarks here today.
Now, come on, come on.
I'm as anti-drugs as anyone, but I would say this...
I would say... I would say,
let's not tar every Italian family in the district
with the same brush!
I personally do not know anybody in Griffith growing marijuana...
Come on! You just have to go down the main street...
Thank you, Mr Grassby.
What I have here is a petition signed by 2,000 concerned local residents,
asking the state government to look at three proposals.
One, specify that the growing of marijuana is illegal.
MAN: Yeah! MAN 2: Fair enough.
Two, station drug squad detectives here in Griffith permanently.
And three...
You ever mention my family again, I'll fucking kill you.
MAN: That's enough, thank you.
Come on, Bob. You know what's going on around here as well as I do.
You can't hide from the truth, Mr Trimbole. Open your eyes.
Everybody around here has.
One K Chinese white, 95% pure. 100 bags, 10 grams each.
A thousand bucks on the street as is.
Cut it, multiply it, be smart, anything up to 20 grand.
You done well.
Ever use it yourself?
You think I'm dumb, Bob?
I control it. It doesn't control me.
I think we said 25 points.
20, and you got a deal.
Strictly between us, yeah?
Your wog mates don't know?
I won't lie to you, Terry. I need the bread.
I'll let 'em know when the time's right.
They're happy to stay in the dope business.
Who was that loudmouth back there?
(SCOFFS) Mackay? Just a pest.
I'm dealing with him.
Guy like that could cause trouble for us.
I said, I'm dealing with him.
I hope so, Bob.
Prove to me you're not just another Aussie wanker.
Good girl. Good girl.
Here, Chels.
Don't you eat it, Horrie.
Manners, please. Here, Horrie. Catch. (DOG BARKS)
'Bye, Dad. Don!
Mmm, see you, love.
We made the front page.
"50-Acre Marihuana Crop Biggest Ever".
What, biggest... biggest in Australia?
The biggest crop of marijuana to be found growing anywhere in Australia.
Approximately $42 million worth.
All credit to you, darl.
Wow, Dad.
DON: Certain people around here are gonna wanna tan my hide.
How is anyone going to know it was you
who went to the police about Coleambally?
Donald Bruce Mackay. Yeah, that's the bugger's name.
('TENNESSEE BIRD WALK' BY JACK BLANCHARD AND MISTY MORGAN)
SONG: # Take away the trees
# And the birds all have to sit upon the ground
# Hum
# And take away their wings
# And the birds all have to walk to get around
# And take away the birdbaths
# And dirty birds will soon be everywhere... #
G'day. Don.
Haven't I seen your picture in the newspapers?
Yeah, for my sins.
Can I help you with something?
Yeah, I was hoping you could help me find a real comfortable bed.
Queen-sized.
Sure.
# Chirp, chirp
# Then take away their common sense
# And they'll be headed southward in the spring
# Oh, remember me, my darling
# When spring is in the air
# And the bald-headed birds are whispering everywhere
# When you see them walking southward
# In their dirty underwear... #
As long as it's comfortable.
And there's room for two.
Would you leave, please?
(MUSIC STOPS)
Now.
(SIGHS) Bloke's a saint or a poof.
Well, maybe you didn't try hard enough.
He's not interested.
Shit. It's just not my day.
Look, go back in there and get him interested.
Just give me my frickin' money and take me back to the bus stop.
And the fare?
('MOONCHILD BLUES' BY WOLF & CUB PLAYS)
Where is he?
There you go. One Aussie Bob, jumbo fries.
Good onya, Minnehaha.
Would you like another beer, Bobby? Yeah, yeah.
MINNEHAHA: And you?
BOB: You sure you won't, Tezza?
Robert.
Brian Alexander.
Phil Perkins.
Glad to greet you, Brian.
You're the sheep shagger. You're the pox doctor's clerk.
Law clerk. John Aston's chambers. I run the joint.
You, I'm told,
are just a pissy little drug runner.
Gentlemen, gentlemen, let's keep it nice.
Now, I'm gonna suggest payment of 20,000 a year.
How does that sound? Fucking expensive.
Oh, but I'm worth it, Philip. Believe me.
I'm a man of many contacts.
Does that mean you've got a lot of boyfriends, Brian?
Federal Narcotics Bureau, Customs, drug squad, Coroner's Office -
we deal with them all.
See? What did I say, eh?
You run into any problems conducting your business,
and I'll know about it as soon as you do,
maybe even before,
and I'll know what to do about it.
20 for the first 12 months. See how useful you are.
Plus bonuses on a case-by-case basis.
Determined by me and me alone.
Rip me off, I'll shoot you in the head,
cut your ears off, post 'em to your mother.
God!
Oh, shit!
Wouldn't I love to see her face.
"Ooh, what's in this envelope?
"What's in here? Aghh! "
Shit! (BOB LAUGHS)
Shit.
MAN: Oh, no, it's getting so we're scared of driving down our own road.
DON: There's no law against carrying a rifle, and you do so yourself.
Not a bloody machine-gun, I don't.
And they make sure we know.
WOMAN: Yeah, to put the wind up us, Don.
I reckon they got a ton of that weed on the go.
Well, any chance you can, you know, jot down their numberplates
so I can take them to the police, give them something concrete?
Yeah, sure. OK.
Uh, look I'll keep it for 14 days.
Call when you've made up your mind.
Nice to see you, Margaret. MAN: Yes, thanks, Don.
Do you always have to be such a hero?
Live for it. What's that?
Bank statement. You didn't tell me you deposited 10,000.
What?
What's this?
It's them.
Trying to compromise me.
Get down to the bank, Barbara.
Take it out. Get rid of it. Give it to charity, anything.
I don't care. Just do it now, Barbara.
Shit.
Shit!
We can't. We have to.
We can't knock a skip, Roberto.
We have no choice.
Italians are bad enough, but not an Anglo, an Anglo like Mackay.
This guy's face is in the newspaper
every fuckin' day.
If we don't stop him now, everything's up in smoke.
Cazzo! He's just one man.
They change the law because of him.
They post drug squad cops here, we might as well plant fucking beans!
Make him an offer. Don't worry about it!
He doesn't want money, doesn't want girls. He's a saint.
Take him out, the whole anti-drug thing - whoop!
It has to look like an Anglo job. Well, you know anyone?
I can find someone. A cleanskin.
Not an amateur. Better we use a professional.
Cleanskin. No record, please.
I'll try Melbourne.
Lot of killers down there.
Let me get a blessing first.
(MEN CHEER)
JACQUl: The Calabrian mafia is known as N'Dranghita,
'the honoured society'.
In Australia, it amounts to an informal coalition of families,
but they're still capable of ordering a murder.
(MEN CHEER)
('THOUSAND CUTS' BY WOLF & CUB)
Meet the Kane brothers, Brian and Les,
the meanest men in Melbourne.
Members of the notorious Federated Painters and Dockers Union,
they ruled the criminal world with an iron fist,
helping themselves to a slice of everybody else's action.
Can't make strawberry jam out of shit!
(MAN LAUGHS)
Basta! Fuck off, Flannery.
SONG: # Gone to his head
# Never know How could you guess?
# Wanna take you down
# They wanna hit the ground... # (BELL RINGS)
Beautiful, thanks, Mick.
Now, listen, that left of yours is coming along nice, alright?
Yeah, cheers, mate. Just wish I could fucking hit something with it.
You will, mate, you will. Don't worry about...
Brian! How're they hanging?
JACQUl: They also earned a bob on the side
protecting Aussie Bob's drug distribution network
south of the border.
Oh, will you?
Bob's got other things to worry about.
Hey, Brian, you got a sec? Yeah.
Hey, haven't come to register a complaint, have you, Frankie?
No. Very satisfied with the standard of protection you provide.
We like to call it the Kane Brothers Insurance Scheme.
I'm looking for a shooter.
LES: Oh, what, to off someone, yeah?
You're asking me and Les to off a bloke?
BRIAN: Or recommend someone. No docket.
There's a drink in it.
LES: Hey, what about old Mick?
BRIAN: Nah.
Mick Gatto couldn't hit the back end of a bull with a handful of rice.
Gatto? Nuh. No Italians.
Frank, it's not really our bag.
Pot of VB, thanks, love.
Hey, mate!
Excuse me.
You looking for a shooter?
I'm available.
Yeah, we got our own guns. Oh, it doesn't have to be guns.
We can use knives, anything.
Bit of fuckin' 4-by-2, anything you want.
It's your call, mate. You're the boss.
How much it worth?
You ever offed a man before?
Sorry, boys. Maybe next time, huh?
Fuck!
Should've said a dozen. Two dozen, Laurie!
Fuck off, Chris.
One day they'd call Chris Flannery Mr Rent-A-Kill.
But not today.
GIRL: Mum, you forgot your lunch!
Oh, thank you, sweetheart.
Now you go back inside. Quickly!
Everyone has their heroes.
For me as a seven-year-old, my hero was my mum...
...Detective Liz Cruickshank.
I don't want you anywhere near my house, Les.
We clear on that?
You got something for me?
I do love it when you talk dirty to me, Lizzie.
Morning, sir. I've just had a... Duh, duh, duh, duh.
Sir, I just had a meeting with a fizz.
There's an Italian going around town looking for a hit man.
Who's the target? He doesn't know.
That's what I call useless information.
He also said that the shooter has to be an Aussie.
So, what are we talking about? A non-Italian target?
That would be my guess.
How reliable is this informer of yours, Cruickshank?
He did also say that he saw Ray Chuck at a petrol station last week.
The armed robber? He's in jail in England.
Told him that.
File an intelligence note and freshen the pot.
Lapsang Souchong. Yes, I know. Thank you.
Detective Inspector Joe Messina
was Victoria's most-admired police officer.
"It was an honour to work for him, " Mum said,
but that didn't mean she had to like him.
Franco! As I live and breathe! (BOTH CHUCKLE)
You don't look a day older.
I'd give you a big kiss, George,
but these good Richmond folks might get the wrong idea.
So, how's the gun shop business, huh?
Having copper mates never hurts.
A beer, or do you want a woggy wine?
Give me a beer. Sure.
What can I do for you, Franco?
You heard I'm looking for someone? Thought you might know the right man.
The way I heard it, you were looking for a virgin.
Bad idea. I sobered up.
What I need's a professional, so I thought of you.
Well, there better be a decent drink in it.
He calls himself Fred. Which one?
JACQUl: James Frederick Bazley bred poodles for fun.
Shooting people for money was strictly a job.
You know what this is about?
Who's the mark?
Furniture salesman. You don't need to know why.
Job's interstate.
I'll pay all your expenses - airfares, motel, hire car.
You just tell me the fee.
I thought you blokes took care of your own shit.
Eyeties, mafia, or whatever the fuck you are.
You want the job?
10,000. Six now, four on completion. I work alone.
(PHONE RINGS)
Good afternoon, Mackay's Furniture.
Probably dry-cleanable, actually.
Oh, well, I'll just get him for you.
Donald! A Mr Adams for you.
Would you excuse me for a minute, please?
(WHISPERS) Adams?
Do I know any Adams?
He says it's your lucky day.
Mr Adams, Don Mackay speaking.
G'day. Guess who just won the Golden Casket.
Well, I'm always happy to speak to a lottery winner.
Uh, congratulations. Thanks.
So I thought I'd splash out and buy my daughter-in-law some furniture.
Oh, that's very generous of you.
What sort of things does your daughter-in-law like?
The most expensive, what else?
I tell you what, why don't you drive to Jerilderie,
you can quote on the whole bloody house.
Well, that sounds like an offer I can't refuse.
Uh, where and when, Mr Adams?
Mm-hm.
Be my pleasure. No, thank you.
JACQUl: As it happened, Don couldn't make it.
He had a funeral to arrange for a family friend.
So he sent Bruce Pursehouse.
And Bruce took his father-in-law along for the ride.
Don Mackay didn't know it,
but he had bought himself three more days of life.
Jesus, how hard is it to shoot a bloke?
He said Friday night.
He said he'd do it yesterday.
Every hour that he puts it off
there are more things that can go wrong!
Mackay always goes to the pub on a Friday night. When he comes out...
(FRANK SPEAKS ITALIAN)... Bob.
Get an alibi for Friday night.
Can't it wait till tomorrow?
I told the customer she could have it tonight.
Alright. Well, it's cutting into good drinking time.
Yeah. Just watch the legs.
Oh, bugger it.
I'll call the lady, tell her we'll deliver it tomorrow.
That's why I like working for you, Don.
You're corruptible. (LAUGHS)
When it comes to beer, I am.
Me too, buddy. Me too.
It's just I promised the girls I'd be there.
Barb, I told you. It's not a problem.
Just go to the meeting. It's fine.
I don't want to be late.
Well, he'll be OK.
(RINGS BELL)
He will. (MOUTHS WORDS)
Look, I'll be home at 7:00, on the dot,
and that is a solid promise.
Will you give Horrie his tablet?
Yeah, leave it with me.
Yes, the last time you said that, you forgot.
Barb, I'm running for state parliament.
I reckon I can give a dog a pill.
(TENSE MUSIC)
DON: ...was still in the Lodge today.
We'd have to flog it to pay the national debt!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like Medibank. And what about no-fault divorce?
Bruce, Australia cannot afford to have a Labor government at any level.
Anyway, nice to meet you guys.
And I hope I can rely on your vote on polling day.
(MEN SPEAK ITALIAN)
Hey, Franco! (MEN CHEER)
(MEN SPEAK INDISTINCTLY)
(TENSE MUSIC)
(PHONE RINGS)
Yeah?
I got his driver's licence and a dentist's bill. You want 'em?
Burn 'em.
Where is he now?
Pet food.
Fred put him through a meat grinder.
Donald Bruce Mackay.
44 years old, loving husband, loving father, citizen.
His body has never been found.
(BELL TOLLS)