Original subtitles

TERRY: She is this close to cracking on us, mate.

I can feel it. Allison?

I can see you running the Singapore end. You could be Mr Asia.

I don't know what our Marty would say about that.

We'd have to kill him, of course.

Terry sent a man to the house to kill me.

You go get yourself a new life.

SONG: # It's a jungle out there

# It's a jungle out there

# It's a jungle out there. #

JACQUl: Two weeks after Andy Maher dumped Marty Johnstone's body

in the Dove,

a local diver found him on a ledge two metres below the surface.

(PANTS)

Oh!

The brutality of the murder and the mutilation of the body

made headlines throughout the country.

(MOANS AND PANTS)

"What sort of animals could do this?

"How could they live with themselves? "

(PANTS AND MOANS)

Oh!

(PANTS VIGOROUSLY)

(MUMBLES AND SWEARS) Fuckin'... (GUNSHOT RESOUNDS)

(GUNSHOT REPEATS)

PLEASE!

(STABS)

Fucking hell!

Fuck!

Fuck. (SOBS)

I could suck it if that'd help.

(SOBS AND PANTS)

His name's Martin Johnstone.

He's a Kiwi.

He flew in first class on British Airways from Singapore.

The stewardess remembered him most particularly.

You ever heard of the mile-high club?

Well, this chap fancied himself a member.

Suppose in the lav, though, you'd think it'd be a tad uncomfortable.

After their passion had subsided, she asks him about this medallion.

It means 'Iong life'.

I've called the New Zealand police

and they had a few thoughts on why Johnstone's not-so-Iong life

might have ended with a bullet in the head.

He was a drug dealer,

apparently in partnership with another Kiwi called Terry Clark.

So his murder was drug-related? Gordon, I do not know.

Maybe his hands were gnawed off by a hungry puma,

but this Clark is a chap I'd like to talk to.

Where is he?

Last known address, Neutral Bay, Sydney.

What time is it down under?

Warwick.

This Johnstone's worked out of Singapore for the past five years.

Now his teeth are smashed in and his hands are cut off.

And he's been associated with Clark since '74.

LIZ: Harry Lewis's hands were chopped off

and his teeth smashed in too.

Seems our Mr Clark

has only one way of dealing with his business problems.

(BIRDSONG)

Marty Johnstone's other sandal.

It was under the seat. Whose car is it?

A chap who never reported it stolen

and who, according to Customs records,

spends a lot of his time in sunny Singapore,

though his permanent address is on the Finchley Road.

(MUFFLED ANNOUNCEMENTS OVER P.A.)

Who needs work?

I'm not gonna go...

You do what you're fucking told, man!

Andrew Samuel Maher, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.

The blood in your car matches Marty Johnstone's

and his sandal was in the back seat.

Is there anything you'd like to tell us, lad?

JACQUl: For most people,

the nervous pressure of guilt is enormous.

Ah...

And confessing comes with an overwhelming sense of relief.

(SOBS)

I did it.

I killed him.

ANDY ON TAPE: He put a gun to my head.

And I pulled it off him and it went off.

So...

Jamie Smith's made a statement

that you killed Marty on a man called Terry Clark's orders.

No, no. Terry's just a friend. He had nothing to do with it.

We understand he lives in London.

Can you give us his address?

lf, as you say, Clark had nothing to do with Marty's murder,

what harm can giving us his address do?

Jamie also said Marty was killed over a drug deal gone bung.

I don't know anything about the drugs.

Well, you told him you had to kill Marty

or Clark would've had you killed next.

(SOBS) Talk to us, son.

We can protect you.

You're not big enough.

You can't protect me forever.

Oh, Andy, your forever's looking like 20 to life.

Now...

...we'll find this Clark's address.

But any little thing you can do that helps us, helps you.

(MUSIC BUILDS TO CRESCENDO)

Ah. What, just an address, yeah?

SONG: # Now, I've got the power

# In every way

# To give you all

# A better day

# To show you people

# And right away

# Listen to me Then you'll see

# I'll make you # Feel alright!

# I'm gonna make you # Feel alright!

# I got the power

# When I know

# All the bad vibes

# Start to go

# Then comes the feeling

# And it's starting to grow

# Lightin' my fire

# Gettin' me higher

# Making me # Feel alright!

# Making me # Feel alright

# Oh-oh!

# I've got power

# A power to excite

# I got power

# I feel like I'm flying

# I got power

# Whoa-oh-oh # I got power

# I got me # I got power... #

Terrence Clark, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder

and suspicion of supply of grade A narcotics.

# Feel alright!

# I'm gonna make you feel alright!

# Feel

# Make you feel

# Alright!

# Whoa! #

I want to ask you some questions

regarding your association with Martin Johnstone.

How would you describe your relationship with Mr Johnstone?

TERRY: I'd describe it as... no comment.

I've never met anyone called Martin Johnstone.

You never, ever met your boyfriend's business partner?

Terry never talked to me about his business.

Are you over here to help run his drugs ring?

Do the accounts? Help set up shelf companies?

I moved to London to be with Terry.

I helped him by cooking.

Gets pretty hot in your kitchen.

Now, think carefully, Mr Clark, before you...

Sinclair.

My name is Terrance James Sinclair.

Terrance James Sinclair, you're Terrence John Clark,

you're Phillip Perkins,

Philip James Scott,

Peter Simon Heffron,

Mr John Francis Pennington

and Mr Andrew James Gorrie.

No comment.

Let's just agree on, er, 'Terry' for now, shall we?

You need to think how you proceed.

Juries don't much admire 'no comment'.

Makes a defendant look guilty.

Fuck, these are all bullshit. These charges.

You don't have any real evidence.

We've got a diary full of names and addresses

including Martin Johnstone and Andy Maher's.

We've got £30,000, most of which you can't account for.

We've got details of payments in three of your aliases

into a company called Cross and Mercer,

a company whose director was Martin Johnstone.

We've got an unregistered .38 Magnum.

And we've got 10 pages

of what our experts tell us are accounts in code.

(CHUCKLES MIRTHLESSLY)

If you blokes give me your bank accounts,

I'll have 200,000 transferred by the close of business.

200 grand?

Each.

OK. OK. 250.

Just show me the front door, eh?

JACQUl: Terry was charged with murder.

And he and Karen were both charged

with conspiracy to import and distribute prohibited drugs.

But gathering evidence was painstaking.

And the trial was many long months away.

Still, with Terry now a guest of Her Majesty...

...and Allison Dine lost in America...

...Aussie Bob Trimbole

was left wondering exactly what it was he'd forked out $2 million for.

And how could he explain to his backers in Griffith

that the rivers of money he promised were looking more like trickles?

Shit!

Oh!

(GRUNTS)

Oh.

(SIGHS)

Bob. Bob, have you heard what's happened?

Terry got arrested in London.

Fucking murder charges, for fuck's sake.

He's facing fucking drug charges up to his fucking eyeballs.

Who'd he knock?

Marty someone.

What are we gonna do?

What if he talks? What if he cuts a deal and spills his guts?!

Keep your fucking voice down. But...

Look, I'm really exposed here, Bob.

If Terry starts talking... Terry won't talk.

He wouldn't betray us.

Oh, shit!

What's wrong? Where are you going?

Shit.

He's our point of attack.

He connects all the corruption -

the cops, the narcs, the lawyers, and Clark.

We get Brian Alexander and all of this begins to collapse.

The English police have agreed to let us interview Clark.

He'll have info on Alexander if we can get it out of him.

And there's also the small matter of getting evidence

Clark arranged the Wilson murders.

Find your passport, Liz.

You ought to go to London with Inspector Messina.

Pardon?

We gather Clark likes the ladies.

He might respond better to questions from you.

The flight's tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow?

Right.

Problem, Cruickshank?

No problem, sir. None.

Clark seems to assume you offer a copper a bribe, he'll take it.

I'm afraid a cohort of NSW State Police

considers supplementary forms of income as par for the course.

I see.

Mmm. We're from Victoria.

Bloke must have money to burn.

He was offering us close to a million quid each

by the time he realised we weren't going to oblige.

What's Clark like, sir?

Take a look for yourself.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

CLARK: I'm a professional gambler.

And an artist.

But if I were an international drug dealer,

I'd be a bloody successful one.

I'd be worth 50 million in land and investments.

Trade in five countries.

Control the lives of dozens of people.

If I were an international drug dealer.

(CHUCKLES) So you run a heroin business in Australia -

you'd need lots of connections.

Protection.

Yes, I would.

Lawyers. Narcotics agents.

Coppers. Judges.

(SCOFFS)

Yeah, I'd be very well connected.

Or pay someone who was.

If you help us, we... we might be able to help you.

We can talk to the English police,

let them know how cooperative you've been.

These Pommies don't strike fear in my heart, Detective Cruickshank.

Maybe it's years watching the All Blacks beat their rugby team,

but I don't think I'm gonna need your help beating any charges.

Talking of Pommies,

Doug Wilson names you as the murderer of Harry Lewis.

Mmm.

Is that your only evidence - the word of a dead junkie?

On those same tapes,

Doug also talks of his fear that you'll murder him and his wife.

Us Kiwis have done pretty well against you Aussies too.

I couldn't help notice your paintings when I came to your flat.

"What a thing a watercolour is to express atmosphere and distance."

"So the figure is surrounded by air and can breathe in it."

Smart man, van Gogh.

Too bad he topped himself.

Well, he was also mad.

Unlike me, Detective Cruickshank.

Unlike you, Terry.

A sane, smart man should know when to fight and when to talk.

(CHUCKLES)

This is bigger than a falling out between drug partners.

It's bigger even than international rugby results.

Now, if any of us is going to get this Clark,

we're going to have to find someone who knows a lot about him

and who has the guts to talk to us.

What about that young courier who took off to America?

She might know someone.

JACQUl: For 10 months, Allison had thought no-one could find her.

But Dave Priest only had to call the FBI

and they drove straight to where she worked.

Everything she'd done for the last three years

finally caught up with her.

She could no longer hide. She no longer wanted to hide.

They got her in a room and asked her one simple question.

Could she name anyone still alive who really knew the ins and outs

of Terry Clark's murderous empire?

Yeah.

Me.

Terry always said no-one got hurt in the heroin business.

Everyone I know has been hurt.

Well, you are doing the right thing now.

I just want to save what's left of my life.

JACQUl: She told them how Terry recruited her,

how many runs they'd made,

how big the profits were,

where the drugs came from,

how many couriers worked for them,

everything.

And she told them about Terry's dark side -

Wayne,

Greg,

Pommy.

And finally she told them one small, vital thing about the Wilson murders.

Terry got the tapes from a lawyer in Sydney.

Brian Alexander.

They had a business relationship?

Terry complained about how much he paid Brian as a retainer.

And I once drove Terry to Brian's office... for an appointment.

You can't give us a date, can you?

May 15.

The anniversary of my mother's death.

You're not free to leave the motel without permission and an escort.

There are plenty of people in this city who won't want you to testify,

so if you want to go out, you ask Hugh

and he'll contact us to OK it.

I also need to remind you

that if at any stage you choose to not give evidence,

you will be immediately charged with breaking bail and possession.

Yeah.

I understand.

I'll send a reminder, then.

Alright.

Goodbye.

They are not going to let us in without a warrant.

They're shitting themselves already. They won't know what hit 'em.

They're lawyers. They make a fuss, we're out of there.

We need evidence on the May 15 meeting -

diaries, appointment books, memos, whatever we can get.

Thanks, guys - files, accounts, every bit of paper.

Excuse me. What do you want, detectives? What do you want?!

JOE: You told us you'd never met Terry Clark.

We have information that that's not true.

What's going on?!

Morning, Mr Aston -

Joint Police Group sends its greetings.

I gave you a very clear last warning, which you've ignored.

You're a very stupid man.

Stay within cooee, won't you?

(DOOR SHUTS)

Oh, it's alright. I took care of it. They won't find anything.

They won't!

JACQUl: The page in Aston's diary for May 15 had been torn out.

But the imprint on the page for May 16

supported Allison's story.

There had been a meeting that day.

With Terry.

It meant they could charge Brian with conspiracy.

But the other link in the chain

was an altogether tougher proposition.

We've spoken to the Queensland police who interviewed Doug Wilson.

They said they gave the case file and the tapes to you.

Your point being?

JOE: Terry Clark got those tapes from Brian Alexander

and Brian got them from the Narcotics Bureau.

Right.

Since I was working on the Wilson case,

it must've been me that passed on the tapes that got them murdered?

I don't know how you Joint Police Group blokes work,

but we in the Bureau

believe in cooperation.

I wasn't the only one that had access to that case file.

In fact, I had cause to discuss the case with several of my colleagues.

How many?

Mmm. Five.

Six, maybe.

Let me see, there was, er,

lan, Stubbsie,

I think Bob and Des were at one meeting,

um, there was... Tim Marshall,

Ricky,

half the Bureau, practically.

(ALL LAUGH)

Ahoy, there!

JACK: Oh, here we go. (QUIETLY) No head, no hands...

(ALL LAUGH)

Permission to come on board?

How'd you escape the bastards, Jack?

What've you got I don't have, mate?

Looks, charm, brains.

(ALL LAUGH)

(SIGHS)

Well, they bloody served me.

Yeah, conspiracy to supply information.

JACK: You'll be right, Brian.

If you don't say anything, they got nothin'.

You know, I was hoping I'd...

...well, I was wondering if you... you could maybe appear for me.

Well, you know, as a character witness.

That'd confirm their suspicions of collusion, wouldn't it?

(MEN CHUCKLE)

You, Dennis?

You're the big detective.

Scratch my back like I scratched yours all these years.

Put in a good word.

Mate, so what if you know a crook?

You're a lawyer. You're all crooks.

(ALL LAUGH)

Mate, don't worry. I'll put a few feelers out.

Someone will tell us

where those clams have put that mouthy little bitch.

So we'll find her. And it's a deep, dark ocean out there, Brian.

Have a beer. She'll be right.

Yeah, alright. I'm busting for a slash.

Yeah, well, just don't get anything on the deck.

My mate's generous with his boat, but very fussy about his deck.

Yeah.

It's nice to have mates, eh?

Sure is.

(ALL LAUGH)

BRIAN: Which mouthy little bitch is it, Dennis?

(URINATES) Joyce? Or Kay?

I'll get you the list, alright?

Oh.

Oh, shit. Sorry, mate.

Pissed on your foot.

(PHONE RINGS)

The Grotto, how can I help you?

Love.

It's that Brian bloke.

I think he's been... (CLICKS TONGUE).

What?

I've got the witness list for my committal.

You know who the prosecution's star is?

Blondie.

Allison?! What am I gonna do, Bob?

Last I heard she was in America.

What if she actually says what she knows?

What if Terry names me?

You know, I've got fucking kids, for God's sake.

A lot of ifs there, mate.

If Terry goes to trial. If Allison says something.

What do I do?

The fucking narcs and cops

are behaving like I've trodden in dog shit.

Keep your head down and keep your bottle.

That last one shouldn't be too hard.

OK?

Yep. Great. Thanks for that.

Brian Alexander just hopped on a plane to London.

Terry!

How are you?

I got a

reminder of home.

I'm from New Zealand.

Don't suppose we could get a private room, could we?

Why? You wanna have sex with me?

Yeah.

You're my big Pommy poofter. Bonky-bonky, bend over...

Why are you in London, Brian?

I... I just wanted to make sure you were gonna keep us out of it.

You know?

The charges against me are bullshit.

I'm not worried.

Yeah. Yeah, me neither.

The girl they've got as a witness against me -

she might turn up in your trial too.

What girl? Kay Reynolds?

Not Kay.

Allison.

You've got it wrong.

No, I haven't.

I know Allison. She would never speak against me.

Yeah, well, what about me?

You'd better fuck off back to Sydney and find out. Guard!

JACQUl: Terry had always believed he could buy, kill

or charm his way out of anything.

Hearing that Allison was giving evidence against the syndicate hit him hard.

And what could he tell Karen,

this 23-year-old solicitor he'd seduced and brought to England?

She had everything to gain by washing her hands of him

and everything to lose by sticking by him.

And if Allison was talking,

what about Bob?

Now there was no more heroin coming from Asia,

he knew Bob had to be doing it tough.

What's up, teddy bear?

What did I do to deserve you, eh?

You've stuck by me through thick and thin.

Thicker and thicker, in my case.

I love you.

I love you too.

Will you do something for me, then?

Your prostate's the size of a tennis ball.

I take it in this case size does matter?

Yeah. I'm gonna do a blood test.

What, does that involve needles?

Don't be a fucking wimp.

Is it the big C, Nick?

Hey, I know what'll cheer you up.

Patient of mine, he's from Lebanon, right?

He just moved back.

You know what the main export of Lebanon is?

Body bags?

Cannabis resin. High-grade.

The best in the world.

Now, hold still.

Now, this bloke, he's got connections to some growers.

Serious growers.

And they're looking to expand their market into the Antipodes.

All they want is buyers at our end willing to put up the cash

and set up an import structure.

Press there.

How much?

I'll let you know the results.

I've done the maths, Bob.

Big enough load of hash, we're set to retire.

We could add some smack.

Source it in Turkey, bring it overland.

I know a bloke who works on the docks in Tripoli.

Let's do it. The more, the fucking merrier.

So how big is a big enough load?

Well, to make it worth our while

getting resin all the way from Lebanon, we gotta think really big.

Yeah, sure, sure. 70 kilos? 80?

Little bit more. Five tonnes.

We'll clear $10 million each, Bob.

JACQUl: Getting Brian Alexander in front of a judge

was the prime goal of the Joint Police Group.

But first a committal hearing had to determine

if the case against him was strong enough to proceed to trial.

It is accurate, is it not,

that you were never actually present when Clark spoke to Mr Alexander?

I had never been present, no.

You drove him to an office on the 15th of May.

Yes.

And you say Clark gave the address on Alexander's business card?

That's right.

Do you remember the card? Yes.

Did it have Alexander's name on it?

It had John Aston Associates, I think.

What we are asking for here are your recollections, not your guesses.

Yes.

When you came to Australia,

you were involved with Terry Clark?

A man you knew was deeply involved with crimes of violence,

carrying firearms, dealing in heroin?

Well, er, I'd fallen in love

with the wrong person.

You'd fallen in love with a person who murdered Pommy Harry, yes?

And who used you as a co-conspirator.

I didn't...

I am not suggesting that your hand carried the Magnum

that fired the bullets into Harry's head,

but you did wash out Clark's bloodstained jeans, did you not?

Some of the people whom you knew were consuming drugs?

I didn't know those people.

You just said, "I didn't know those people."

Yes.

LAWYER: But you did know Pommy Harry extremely well, didn't you?

I had met Pommy. It's not the same as knowing him.

LAWYER: So when you said, "I didn't know those people,"

you didn't mean for us to believe that.

Well, I... I should've explained better.

I said that I didn't know them well.

Because to say "I didn't know Pommy Harry"

would be a lie, wouldn't it?

I don't understand what you mean.

LAWYER: You don't know what it means to lie.

I know what that is.

JACQUl: After five hours of questioning,

the magistrate declared Allison was evil.

He called her a despicable opportunist

and transparently unreliable.

He deemed her evidence worthless.

And with Allison discredited,

the rest of the case had all sorts of problems.

What about the other evidence we've got against Alexander -

the diary?

The $100,000 in his bank he can't account for?

DAVE: Magistrate said it could've come from gambling winnings.

(LAUGHS MIRTHLESSLY) She's evil and he gets off.

Wouldn't happen in Victoria.

And it won't at the inquest into the Wilsons' deaths.

(MEN LAUGH AND CHEER RAUCOUSLY)

Whoo!

Yeah!

Whoo-hoo!

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

Yeah.

Looks like it's my turn to piss on your foot tonight, mate!

(VOICE ECHOES, SOUND REVERBERATES)

We will get these bastards.

Indeed we will. I'm calling the Vic Coroner.

I know he's happy for me to assist him.

And this time I'll be asking

why Doug Wilson had Brian Alexander's name

in his little black book.

I want to take this pisspot apart.

(PHONE RINGS)

Priest.

JACQUl: More good news came from an unlikely source.

MAN: Evening, Prime Minister.

Given the current hoo-ha in the press over these Wilson tapes,

we're planning to restructure the Commonwealth Police

into a new body - Federal one -

Federal Police, or some such.

Give you wider powers, greater scope,

including the responsibility for tracking narcotics smuggling.

What about the Federal Narcotics Bureau?

There won't be any need for it,

given this new allocation of responsibilities.

And the Bureau's staff?

I'm sure the heads of the new Australian Federal Police

will be able to re-employ some of them.

And, um, as for the others,

well, they'll still be customs officers, of course,

just no longer directly involved with narcotics, sadly.

JACQUl: From more than 200 officers in the Federal Narcotics Bureau,

less than half were invited to join the newly-formed Federal Police.

Good morning, John.

Beautiful day.

What's this then, eh? A bonus?

I'm afraid I'm letting you go.

You're giving us a bad name, Brian.

I'm sorry.

(RACE CALLER ON RADIO)

Should've listened to your tip, shouldn't I, Bob?

You'd never go wrong with me, Danny.

Yeah, that's what everyone says.

So, what about this Lebanon deal?

Paltos know what he's doing?

Oh, absolutely. Nick's a man I'd trust with my life.

Oh, here's the master criminal now.

(CHUCKLES)

Nick, this is Danny Chubb I was telling you about.

G'day. G'day.

Can I have a word? We're all friends here.

And I love you like a brother, but I need to talk to Bob alone.

Hey, listen,

you know that test we did?

Mmm.

I'm really sorry, Bob.

You've got cancer.

Full-blown prostate cancer.

Right. Where were we?

Er, Danny, we were thinking you might be our transport manager.

How would you be at rustling up a couple of semitrailers?

DANNY: Job's that big, huh?

(MURMUR OF CONVERSATION)

(LAUGHS) Oh, you must've won big-time, hey?

I got me, er, test results.

I'm clear.

What? No.

Not a spot of cancer in me.

Bobby, that's great.

Here. Soft-centre or nougat.

And Dr Paltos was sure? I mean, what did he say?

Well, he said we'd be doing it like bunnies for the next 100 years.

Here. Hold those. Gotta have a whiz.

(APPLAUSE ON TV)

Um, they often say that good things come in glass.

The question is how... Oh, is it... (IN ENGLISH ACCENT)... 'glass'?

'Glass'. I thought it was.

But how they get there is an art in itself.

(SHUTS TV OFF)

G'day, mate. I'm here to see Allison Dine.

Miss Dine,

do you want some fish and chips?

How are you going?

Better than a couple of days ago.

It's good, your evidence.

It's helpful.

It'll certainly be helpful in the Wilson inquest.

The Coroner's set a date.

Now, an inquest is different to a committal.

There'll be no-one out to destroy you this time

and Brian won't be there watching.

How well did you know him?

There's that question again.

Not well.

But he paid your bail.

No, no. That was Bob.

Bob? Bob Jones.

He's the organisation's... um, retail manager, I suppose.

In Australia?

Well, who is he? Just some shifty drunkard?

No, Bob's harmless.

Everyone's mate.

And he certainly knew a lot of people.

Did he go by any other names?

I don't think so.

We all just used to call him Aussie Bob.

DAVE: Bob Trimbole.

Initiated member of the N'Dranghita.

That means the Mafia.

Well, he always called himself Bob Jones when I knew him.

Allison, why didn't you mention him earlier?

Well, you asked me about couriers and importers.

Bob was more on the distribution side.

You say he put up $2 million for the Australian end of Terry's operation?

That makes him a major player.

You must have known that.

It's just Bob always seemed sort of harmless.

Bob Trimbole may well have been responsible

for the murder of Donald Mackay.

Did he ever mention the name Mackay to you?

No! Look, I'm sorry I didn't mention him sooner.

But I've told you everything I know about him now. I swear it!

The Wilson inquest is coming up in a few days.

And your evidence has to be credible, Allison.

You have to be clear and certain.

Can you stand up, under oath,

and identify this man as the bloke who introduced Terry Clark

to Brian Alexander?

That's Bob Trimbole.

He was the one.