Original subtitles

She's this close to cracking on us, mate.

I can feel it.

Alison?

I can see you running the Singapore end.

You can be Mr. Asia.

I don't know why Mark didn't see about that.

We'd have to kill him, of course.

Dewey sent a man to the house to kill me.

You gotta get yourself a new life.

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

Two weeks after Andy Maher

dumped Marty Johnston's body in the delve,

a local diver found him on a ledge,

two meters below the surface.

The brutality of the murder

and the mutilation of the body

made headlines throughout the country.

What sort of animals could do this?

How could they live with themselves?

Please!

Fucking hell. Fuck!

I could suck it if that'd help?

His name's Martin Johnston. 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.

Spoils 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 long life.

And I've called the New Zealand police

and they had a few thoughts on why

Johnston's not so long 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 we're gnawed off by an angry 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?

Work.

This Johnston'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.

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.

Marty Johnston's other sandal.

It was under the seat.

Who's car is it?

A chap who never reported it stolen

and according to customs records,

spends a lot of his time in sunny Singapore,

though his permanent address is on the Finchley Road.

We're only there to work.

I'm not gonna go (indistinct).

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 Johnston's

and a sandal was in the back seat.

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

For most people,

the nervous pressure of guilt is enormous

and confessing comes with an overwhelming sense of relief.

I did it.

I killed him.

He put a gun to my head and I pulled it off

and it went off.

Jeremy 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?

Well, if as you say, Clark had nothing to do

with Marty's murder, what harm can giving us his address do?

Jeremy also said Marty was killed

over a drug deal gone wrong.

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.

Talk to us, son.

We can protect you.

You're not big enough.

You can't protect me forever.

Oh, Andy, your forever is 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.

Well just an address, yeah?

♪ Now I got the power ♪

♪ In every way ♪

♪ To give you all ♪

♪ A better day ♪

♪ Show you people a brighter way ♪

♪ Listen to me and then you will see ♪

♪ I'll make you feel all right! ♪

♪ I'm gonna make you feel all right! ♪

♪ I got the power where I go ♪

♪ Oh baby, it's time to go ♪

♪ There comes a feeling starting to grow ♪

♪ Like my fire, get me higher ♪

♪ Making me feel all right! ♪

♪ I've got power, the power to excite ♪

♪ I've got power ♪

♪ Oh, if you like that ♪

♪ I've got power ♪

♪ I've got power, look at me! ♪

♪ I've got power ♪

Terrance Clark,

I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder

and suspicion of supply of grade A narcotics.

♪ Feel all right! ♪

♪ I'm gonna make you feel all right! ♪

♪ Feel ♪

♪ Make you feel ♪

♪ All right! ♪

♪ Oh! ♪

I want to ask you some questions

regarding your association with Martin Johnston.

How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Johnston?

I'd describe it as no comment.

I've never met anyone called Martin Johnston.

You never ever met your boyfriend's business partner?

Terry never talked to me about his business.

You're over here to help run his drugs ring

through 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 Terrance John Clark,

you're Phillip Perkins, Phillip James Scott,

Peter Simon Hefron, Mr. John Francis Pennington,

and Mr. Andrew James Gorrie.

No comment.

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

You need to think how you proceed.

Juries don't much admire no comment.

Makes the defendant look guilty.

Fact is they're all bullshit, these charges.

You don't have any real evidence.

We've got a diary full of names and addresses,

including Martin Johnston and Andy Maher's.

We've got 30,000 pounds,

most of which you can't account for.

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

into a company called Cross and Mercer.

A company who's director was Martin Johnston.

We've got an unregistered .38 Magnum

and we've got ten pages of what our experts tell us

are accounts in code.

If you blokes give me your bank accounts,

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

200 grand.

Each.

Okay, okay. 250.

Just show me the front door, eh?

Terry was charged with murder

and he and Karen were both charged

with conspiracy to import and distribute prohibited drugs.

But, gathering evidence was pain-staking

and the trial was many long months away.

Still, with Terry now a guest of her majesty

and Alison Dine lost in America,

Aussie Bob Trimbole was left wondering

exactly what it was he forked out 2 million dollars for

and how could he explain to his backers in Griffith

that the rivers of money he'd promised

we're looking more like trickles?

Shit!

Bob.

Bob, have you heard what's happened?

Terry got arrested in London.

Fuckin' murder charges for fuck's sake.

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

Who'd he knock?

Marty someone?

Well, what are we gonna do?

What if he talks?

What if he cuts a deal and spills his guts?

Keep your fucking voice down.

I'm really exposed here, Bob.

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

He wouldn't betray us.

Oh.

What's wrong? Where are you going?

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.

It'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.

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 New South Wales State Police

considers supplementary forms of income

as par for the course.

I see.

We're from Victoria.

Bloke must have money to burn.

It's often as close to a million quid each

by the time he realize we won't go to oblige.

- What's Clark like, sir? - Take a look for yourself.

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.

So you run a heroin business in Australia.

You need lots of connections, protection.

Yes, I would.

Lawyers, narcotics agents.

Coppers, judges.

Yeah, I'd be very well connected.

Or pay someone who was.

If you help us, 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 tears watching your blokes 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.

Mm.

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 watercolor is

to express atmosphere and distance.

So the figure 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.

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 gonna 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.

For two months, Alison 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.

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 him about Terry's dark side,

Wayne,

Greg, Pommie.

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 15th,

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'll ask Hugh

and he'll contact us to okay 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 you a reminder then.

All right, (indistinct).

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

Yeah, shitting themselves already,

they won't know what hit them.

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.

Hello, thanks, guys.

Files, accounts, every bit of paper.

Excuse me, what do you want?

Detectives, what do you want?

You told us you'd never met Terry Clark.

We have information 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 with him, cooee, won't you?

It's all right.

I took care of it, they won't find anything.

They won't!

The page in Aston's diary from May 15th

had been torn out.

But the imprint on the page from May 16th

supported Alison'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?

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?

Hmm.

Five, six maybe. Let me see.

There was Ian,

Stubsy,

I think Bob and Des were at one meeting.

Tim Marshall, Ricky.

Half the bureau, practically.

Oy there!

Here we go.

Permission to come on board?

Do you escape the bastards, Jack?

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

Looks, charm, brains.

They bloody serve me.

Conspiracy to supply information.

You'll be all right, Brian.

If you don't say anything, they got nothing.

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?

You, Dennis?

Another 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.

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 all right.

All right.

Asking for a slash.

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

Your mate's generous with his boat,

very fussy about his deck.

Yeah, it's nice to have mates, eh?

Sure is.

Which mouthy little bitch is it, Dennis?

Joyce or Kay?

I'll get you the list, all right?

Oh shit. Sorry, mate. Pissed on your foot.

The Grotto, how can I help you?

Love, it's that Brian bloke.

I think he's been...

What?

I've got the witness list from my committal.

You know who the prosecution's star is?

Blondie.

Alison?

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 Alison says something.

What do I do? There are fucking narcs and cops

about and I've trotted in dog shit!

Keep your head down and keep your bottle.

That last one shouldn't be too hard, okay?

Yep. Great. Thanks for that.

Brian Alexander just hopped on a plane to London.

Terry.

How are you?

Got a reminder of home.

I'm from New Zealand.

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

Why, you wanna have sex with me?

Yeah.

You know I'm a big pommie poofter. Bonky, bonky-

Why are you in London, Brian?

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

You know.

The charges against me are bullshit.

I'm not worried.

Yeah.

Yeah, me neither.

All they've got is a witness against me.

She might do up in your trial too.

What girl? Kay Reynolds?

Not Kay.

Alison.

You've got it wrong.

Why?

I know Alison. She would never speak against me.

Yeah, but what about me?

You better fuck off back to Sydney and find out.

Guard!

Terry had always believed he could buy,

kill, or charm his way out of anything.

Hearing that Alison 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 Alison 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.

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 on 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 tons.

We'll clear 10 million each, Bob.

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.

I'd fallen in love with the wrong person.

You'd fallen in love with a person

who murdered Pommie Harry, yes?

And who used you as a co-conspirator?

I didn't-

I'm 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.

But you did know Pommie Harry

extremely well, didn't you?

Well, I had met Pommie.

It's not the same as knowing him.

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

you didn't mean for us to believe that.

Well, I should've explained better.

Said that I didn't know them well.

Because to say, "I didn't know Pommie Harry,"

would be a lie, wouldn't it?

I don't understand what you mean.

You don't know what it means to lie.

I know what that is.

After five hours of questioning,

the magistrate declared Alison was evil.

He called her a despicable opportunist

and transparently unreliable.

He deemed her evidence worthless.

And with Alison 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 account unaccounted for.

Magistrate said it could've come from gambling winnings.

She's evil and he gets off.

Wouldn't happen in Victoria.

And it won't at the inquest into the Wilson's deaths.

Looks like it's my turn

to piss on your foot tonight, mate!

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 Brain Alexander's name

in his little black book.

I wanna take this piss pot apart.

Priest.

More good news came from an unlikely source.

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 as for the others,

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

just no longer directly involved with narcotics, sadly.

From more than 200 officers

in the Federal Narcotics Bureau,

less than half were invited to join

the newly formed federal police.

Morning, John.

Beautiful day.

What's this? Bonus?

I'm afraid I'm letting you go.

You're giving us a bad name, Brian.

I'm sorry.

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

You'll 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.

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

- G'day. - G'day.

Can I have a word?

Hey, we're all friends here, mate.

And I love you like a brother

but I need to talk to Bob alone.

Hey, listen.

You know that test we did?

Mm-hmm.

I'm really sorry, Bob. You got cancer.

Full blown prostate cancer.

Right, where were we?

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

How would you be at rustling up

a couple of semi trailers?

Job's that big, huh?

You must've won big time, eh?

I got me test results.

I'm clear.

What? No.

Not a spot of cancer in me.

Bobby, that's great.

Here. Soft center or nougat?

Dr. Paltos was sure? What did he say?

Well he said we'd be doing it like bunnies

for the next 100 years.

Here. Have those. I'm gonna have a whiz.

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

The question is... or is it gloss?

Gloss.

Gloss. I thought it was.

But how they get there is an art in itself, and the art of-

G'day, mate.

Here to see Alison Dine.

It stop?

Do you want some fish and chips?

How are you going?

Better than a couple of days ago.

It's good, your evidence.

Helpful.

Would certainly be helpful in the Wilson inquest.

The coroner set a date.

Now, an inquest is different to a committal.

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

and Brian might 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 Johns. He's the organization's

retail manager, I suppose.

In Australia?

Well, who is he? Just some shifty drunkard?

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.

Bob Trimbole, initiated member of the 'Ndrangheta.

That means the mafia.

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

Alison, why didn't you mention him earlier?

Well, you asked me about couriers and importers.

Bob was more on the distribution side.

You're saying he put out 2 million dollars

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 McKay.

Did he ever mention the name McKay 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, Alison.

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.

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Oh ♪

♪ Ah, ooh ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪