Original subtitles

I hear you got a certain commodity to sell.

Number four Chinese white heroin.

95% pure.

I can help.

Well, at that point you're importing a product

if you can't get it to market.

You want me me advise, son?

Go back to New Zealand.

I plan to bring in 1,500 kilos a year.

Don't ever stiff me, Terry.

I'll bury under an orange tree.

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 hit man.

Who's the target?

He doesn't know.

That's what I call useless information.

Who is that loud enough back there?

Just a pest.

I'm dealing with him.

Where is he now?

Bedford.

Fred put him through a meat grinder.

It's a jungle out there.

Here, love.

Do you know how much trouble you've caused?

You fat fucking daygo.

No call for language, Malcolm.

Fuck me! You could have not have picked a worst guy

if you tried, Don Mackay.

I don't know nothing about it.

And setting me up as your alibi.

How about an nice cappuccino?

I don't want a cappu-fucking-ccino!

I want an explanation!

So do the boys in town. And they're not happy, mate.

Now, worst comes the worse, I arrest you

and I deny everything.

Six months time no one will even remember his name.

Yeah?

Hey, Franco!

What news?

You tell Ray Chuck I'd be thrilled to meet him.

The wife of Griffith businessman, an anti-drug campaigner

and Mr. Don Mackay believed her husband is dead.

But she said yesterday she did not know who would've wanted

to kill him.

Mr. Mackay has been missing since Friday night.

Could this be our man?

The mystery Italian's mystery Aussie hitman.

Stretching the logic a bit, isn't it, sir?

How many contract killings occur in Australia

in any one year?

Sir, I've got the chief of city detectives

on the line.

Detective Bill Allen.

Joe Messina, Victoria Major Crimes.

Bill, thanks for taking my call.

What can I do for you, Joe?

The Mackay case in Griffith, we have information,

Italian interest.

We're scouting for a shooter in Melbourne.

I was wondering if there's any connection.

Talking hard evidence, are we?

More rumor to be honest.

No names, certainly.

Yeah, thanks for your interest, Joe, but we've got that

well in hand.

I've sent a handpicked homicide team down to Griffith.

Cheerio.

Cheerio.

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.

Then 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?

I reckon it's all a bit suss.

Something doesn't smell right.

Well, because there's no body.

Well, there's no body, take a look at the blood spray,

the strategically placed shells.

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 he doesn't, mate?

Was he a friend of yours, Malcolm?

Me and Don had a lot of respect for each other, yeah.

Don have any enemies?

A lot of people hate politicians.

You're not wrong, Warwick.

A few weeks ago, bloke called Bob Trimbole actually

threatened to kill him.

Jonah.

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.

We got a job on, Bob.

We need to move a large amount of cash overseas.

Now Frank here says you've got ways and means.

How large?

Could be huge.

Millions.

Where do you want to shift it to?

Philippines.

You know it?

Oh, shouldn't be a problem.

Place is a wash with Aussie dollars.

We could 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 is the best.

Why don't we just walk the money in suitcases

onto a cargo boat.

Boat docks and Manila, cases are walked off again,

road truck's there to collect and Bob's your uncle.

No. Fuck that.

The Wolves are controlled by Brian and Les fucking Cain

and their mates.

Now I've got no intention, none whatsoever,

of cutting those greedy bastards in.

Understand?

Fair enough, but I'm talking A&L Sydney, not Melbourne.

The boats from 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 going to find?

Relax, kid. Nobody knows.

They're going to find me.

I said relax.

Here.

Buy yourself a lolly.

Girls.

Hair of the dog.

And using the bush telegraph, Brian?

Read 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 you can find the joint.

By the way, your Kiwi buddy, Greg Ollard, he's moonlighting.

Mate, he wouldn't dare stuff me.

And I caught an agent on my 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 Barley.

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, Ollard 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.

Greg.

What's up, chief?

How long have we been mates?

Well, 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- - 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, no.

It was just a spur of the moment.

Just stupid piece of insanity.

I mean, where am I going to find Chinese white, huh?

You're the only guy that customers want to deal with.

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.

You scared me, man.

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.

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.

If you make accusations against my family,

I will F-ing kill you.

Did you say that to him?

Something like that.

Strong words.

Did you mean it?

Of course I didn't.

I was head up.

You threatened to kill a man who's now missing.

Possibly dead.

Okay.

Where were you Friday night from 6:00 onwards?

I was having a business dinner with associates

at La Scarla; it's an Italian restaurant here in town.

Okay, can you give me some names?

Sure.

Malcolm Paris was there.

Country town, Warwick.

Everybody knows everybody.

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've got nothing to hide.

I've never been in trouble with the law in me life.

Are we finished?

'Cause I'm rated.

Pizza night at the Coronation Club, mate.

Malcolm will give you the jig.

Got a bit worked up there, matey.

Talk to Mackay's bank first thing.

You 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 mind.

Okay, so what's the population?

12,000, 15,000?

Of 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.

What are you saying?

Malcolm's involved in Mackay's disappearance?

Or murder. Maybe.

I don't know, but I don't bloody trust him.

Who was it that pointed us to Trimbole?

Well, 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?

Hello, Ray.

Long time, no see.

Hey, thought I want you to put your roots down, mate.

Yourself a Pommy bastard.

What brings you boys all the way out to Kiwi?

Jungle drums are beaten, mate.

Booga-booga. Booga-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 Wolves.

We don't need to know what the job is.

In fact, we don't care, mate.

We don't.

But what you got to remember, Ray, is nothing's changed.

So, if you want our ticket of approval.

Ray, you want our ticket 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?

Okay, Ray.

Pit bulls. Born and bred to fight.

They sink their teeth in and hang on like grim death

until the last drop of blood was spilled.

And pretty soon, the blood would start flowing.

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 put your name forward and he's interested.

- Who? - Ray Chuck.

- Ray Chuck? - Yeah.

- You're pulling my leg. - No. Deadly serious, mate.

See you.

Vinnie Mickelson, wasn't it?

What did he want?

Nothing.

He's got a job on, hasn't he?

Ray Chuck.

Talk to me, Laurie you

27,

28,

29.

Come on, ladies.

Now down. 10 pushups.

One, two, three, four.

Come on! Five, six, seven, eight, nine, 10.

Take a break, ladies.

Well done.

Hey, hey!

No smoking.

We need fitness if we're going to get this job done.

Okay?

Give us a hint, Ray.

Bank payroll, armored car, what?

You'll know when you need to know.

Hey, fellas.

Ray.

Flannery, what are you doing here?

Thought I could lend the 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?

I'm already fit, mate.

Everyone says you're a psycho.

I'll let their mother know when I get home then, will I?

Come on, eh.

Can't have too many psychos on the team now, can you?

All right. Come on.

Hi, I'm Chris Flannery. How are you?

Hey. Chris Flannery.

How you doing? - Good, mate.

Now, job day.

So, three of you Fat fat bastards won't make it.

Which three?

Who's up to it? Who's not?

Four!

Don was supposed to go to Jerilderie to see

a Mr. Adams about furnishing a house,

except 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 and Don's Fairlane.

Very comfortable touring car, the Fairlane.

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?

Okay.

Are you sure it was a Ford?

Yeah, it had the 4.1 badges on the front mud guard.

Registration number?

Sorry.

But I'd recognize the bloke, the driver.

Description?

I reckon the bloke was mid 40s.

He was wearing a suit.

- 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 three hour drive, mate,

you'd have to overnight it.

I'm game. Boss?

Anytime you like.

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.

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.

As I approached the bend, I noticed 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.

Car leaving Griffith on Hillston Road at high speed

between 6:30 and 7:00 Friday night.

No worries, skip.

And I want you to place an advert in every local paper

within 100 miles

Pooling 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.

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.

With campus, 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 killers 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 find the guy in the white Ford.

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.

Harry, let's step outside.

Great place, dude.

Yeah, very classy, Till.

What, did you buy it for cash?

- Are you ready for tomorrow? - Absolutely, mate.

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 and get some sleep.

Okay.

How are things in Singapore?

They're good.

Monty behaving himself?

Sure.

Keep an on him for me.

Okay.

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.

- 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?

It's obvious you're not happy.

Mate, I'm as happy as the 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 too, I say there was 100% happy.

Not just 90%.

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 he say?

What extras?

How's a brand new car sound?

Plus a bag of your favorite scag is 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.

Lennie, can you 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?

Be a man. Get a Jag.

This is it.

Here?

Dig right here.

There?

Come on, Greg.

Yeah, I'm getting there.

Help yourself to as many as you think you deserve.

You're the best, Till.

I mean that.

You really are a greedy bastard, aren't you?

♪ I see that grin, love ♪

♪ Up on your face ♪

♪ You got your trouble, I got mine ♪

♪ You found somebody else to take my place ♪

♪ You got problems ♪

♪ And I've got mine ♪

♪ I too have lost my love today ♪

♪ All my dreams have gone away ♪

♪ I'm just like you, I sit and wonder why ♪

♪ You got your troubles, and I got mine ♪

You don't like it?

No, it's lovely.

Did I overcook it?

No. Thanks.

What exactly were you doing today?

I was helping Greg pack up his things.

He's going to hitchhike to London or some hubby bullshit.

Good riddance.

Can't we afford wine in bottles?

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 look.

Did you organize, 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 organized for a local copper to be there.

I often entertain business people from the district.

Right.

Malcolm Paris is not a businessman.

Well, I like to maintain good relationships

with the local constabulary.

I'd be mad if I didn't.

Do you mind if I imbibe?

Sure.

Sandwich wouldn't be breaking the rules, surely.

Help yourself.

I will learn the truth.

Know that, Mr. Trimbole.

Enjoy your lunch.

Hey listen, can I give you a call back?

All right. See you later.

Hey,

do you take money, Malcolm?

If I got a warrant to access your bank accounts,

what would I find?

Tell my mates it's no accident the cannabis industry

around here's is 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,

doesn't it?

Dry right.

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.

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.

Sput, 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.

Oy.

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.

Shit, Ray.

You didn't tell me there was going to be a floor show.

Want to see a floor show?

Be at the Victorian Club on Tuesday.

That's huge.

Plum just waiting to be picked.

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 armor guard van arrives

with a stack of steel crates full of bookie's 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

How much cash are we talking about, you reckon?

Could be up to a couple of million.

Well?

Estimates start at 1.5, sir.

Where do they stop?

Oh, could go as high as 12.

$12 million.

All over in 11 minutes. Not a shot fired.

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.

Of course it wasn't Ray Chuck, he wouldn't fucking dare.

Read it.

It was Chuck.

I know for a fact.

Fucking what?

Ray Chuck.

Fuck you!

Fuck Ray 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 10:30 PM.

On Tuesday, 12th of July.

On Tuesday, the 12th of 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.

I don't think you've got too much to worry about.

Do you?

And there's good news.

I always like to share it around.

G'day, Mal.

What news in the bush?

Relax, Baz.

Everything's sweet.

Bonus for you and the boys.

♪ Can't help myself ♪

♪ Bad habits ♪

♪ I'm running wild ♪

♪ Lost control ♪

♪ And it's a shame to think ♪

♪ That a boy like me ♪

♪ Has got so many bad habits ♪

♪ Well, I'm off the rails ♪

♪ My resistance fails ♪

♪ Temptation's got a hold on me ♪

He's new to the team

Barry, Trevor.

Trevor, have a sandwich.

I'll talk to you later.

Welcome on, mate.

♪ 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 ♪

♪ All of these bad habits ♪ - Come in.

Sandwich, Bill.

With all the trimmings?

Please.

No one will ever know how much the great

boogie rubbery netted.

But it was enough to grease a whole lot of palms.

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 a head up.

You alright?

G'day, teach. Come in.

Bob Jones

So, I can trust these babies that you're keeping?

Sweet.

Big drink in it for you and your mates if they get

to Manila safely.

Ray Chuck will be there to meet you, okay.

Horry?

Both dogs died in agony.

Someone had fed them poison bites.

You bloody bastards!

It was them.

The Kaliambli people.

Same ones who killed Don.

Punishing me for talking to the press.

All the Kaliambli men had alibis on the night

that he was killed.

We checked every last one of them, Barbara.

You're never going to solve this, are you?

I'll get you a cup of tea.

I won't stop 'til I get them.

I don't care how long it takes.

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.

Fix was in all along.

I used to think being handpicked was a good thing.

We're not going to 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 going to be a good dad, Terry.

French plonk again.

What's wrong with the local drop?

We're toasting fatherhood.

How much did you make from the boogie robbery?

Why?

I don't like you branching out.

I want you to concentrate in our business.

You're not my boss, son.

You're my partner.

Junior partner.

The junior partner is you.

I got a prezi for you too.

Filipino porn.

We send them cash, they send back porno.

There's something in there for everyone.

Even a sheep shaggin' wanker like you.

Bob, I'll have you know I'm a family man.

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.