All language subtitles for Underbelly.S02E01.Aussie.Bob.and.Kiwi.Terry.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

♪ 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 ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

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.

You don't mind sharing a bed

with a couple of naked birds, do you?

It's Dragon, man. Where it's at.

Fuck Split Enz. Fucking posers.

Greg's their manager.

Aka roadie, eh?

♪ 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 offense, mate, but I'm not
looking for another partner.

Come on, relax, look.

Let's have a feed, talk it over.

Y-you like Chinese?

Aussie Bob had built a career

on knowing everyone who mattered,

and knowing exactly how to call in a favor

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.

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 gonna 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.

George Freeman.

The original colorful 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.

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.

♪ 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 ♪

♪ I wanna freak your loneliness ♪

Do you want my advice, son?

Go back to New Zealand
and shag some sheep.

Stay safe.

Have a fuckin' lovely day.

♪ 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 ♪

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.

Well, now you're here, we
might as well rip the cork out.

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?

'Cause 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, mate.

They're calling us the
pot capital of Australia.

Okay, 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.

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?

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 gonna 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.

Maybe you don't know exactly who I am.

I know, Bob.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Hello, darling.

Hello, darlin'. Phil Perkins.

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.

- How are you?
- 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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

Yeah!

Two, station
drug squad detectives

here in Griffith permanently.

And three-

You ever mention my family
again, I'll fucking kill 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?

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.

- 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.

Certain people around here
are gonna wanna tan my hide.

How is anyone
gonna to know it was you

who went to the police about Coleambally?

Donald Bruce Mackay.

Yeah, that's the bugger's name.

♪ 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 ♪
- Who really cares?

As long as it's comfortable.

And there's room for two.

Would you leave, please?

Now.

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?

Where is he?

There you go, one
Aussie Bob, jumbo fries.

Good onya, Minnehaha.

Would you like another beer, Bobby?

Yeah, yeah.

And you?

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!

Shit.

Oh, no, it's
getting so we're scared

of driving down our own road.

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.

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.
- Okay.

Uh, look I'll keep it for 14 days.

You give me a bell when
you've made up your mind.

Nice to see you, Margaret.

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.

The Calabrian
mafia is known as Ndrangheta,

the honored society.

In Australia,

it amounts to an informal
coalition of families,

but they're still capable
of ordering a murder.

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!

Basta! Fuck off, Flannery.

♪ Gone to his head ♪

♪ Never know ♪

♪ How could you guess ♪

♪ Wanna take you down ♪

♪ They wanna hit the ground ♪

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?

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.

Oh, what, to off someone, yeah?

You're asking me and Les to off a bloke?

Or recommend someone.

No docket.

There's a drink in it.

Hey, what about old Mick?

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.

Mom, 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 mom.

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 honor to
work for him," Mom said,

but that didn't mean she had to like him.

Franco!

As I live and breathe!

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?

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.

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?

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-hmm.

Be my pleasure.

No, thank you.

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...

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.

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 okay.

He will.

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.

Was still in the Lodge today.

We'd have to flog it to
pay the national debt!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, like, 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.

Hey, Franco!

Yeah?

I got his driver's license
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.

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪