Original subtitles

Things will never change, will they?

Stick our bloody heads in the sand?

It's not about sticking our heads

in the sand, Deb, but making sure they don't get shot off.

They're going down.

What?

We'll go to internal affairs.

Ever thought of this line of work, Kim?

I'm happy doing what I'm doing.

Are you aware that escorting involves nudity

and it can involve sex?

What's the pay like?

If you're assisting with the inquiry,

then obviously it would be necessary

to discuss the details of the case.

Well, you have my full cooperation.

The IA investigation benefited did greatly.

Just doing my duty.

Was mentioned in the cabinet.

These guys, they're capable of anything.

What do you think you're gonna do, eh?

No one much likes whistleblowers,

particularly in an organization like the police.

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ That's how he works ♪

♪ That's how ♪

♪ How the Lord ♪

♪ He works ♪

♪ That's how the Lord works ♪

♪ That's how he works ♪

♪ That's how the Lord works ♪

♪ That's how he works ♪

♪ We must not question the good Lord ♪

♪ Have faith in God and trust his word ♪

♪ We must not question the good Lord ♪

♪ Have faith in God and trust his word ♪

♪ We don't know, we don't know when ♪

♪ To see his day, so we should stand ♪

♪ We don't know, we don't know when ♪

♪ To see his day, so we should stand ♪

♪ That's how prayer works ♪

♪ That's how ♪

Every woman has a uniform.

Waitress, cop. Hooker. - Thanks.

Uniforms protect us. Tell the world who we are.

Probationary Constable Wendy Jones

had been waiting to wear a uniform her whole life.

- Hey, Joe. - Hey, Wanda.

You know you're breaching

the Summary Offenses Act 1988?

Excuse me? Are you calling me a prostitute?

You're carrying a bag full of condoms and lubricants.

I am not.

Well, go on. Show me.

What do we have here?

You concealing any drugs about your person?

Why? Wanna buy some? N-O.

How about we take you down to the police station?

Do a body cavity search.

Oh, is that how you get your thrills?

Feeling up girls?

Don't be a smart-arse, mate.

Sorry. That's it. That's enough. She's harmless.

- Thanks, Joe. - All right.

Here we go. Your ID, son.

I see you every day.

Fergus, Kenny. 17. Show me what's in your pockets, Fergus.

Open your mouth. Spit it out.

Who's dealing in there, Fergus?

Found it on the floor.

Geez, you must be the luckiest junkie in town.

You're always finding a cap or three. Off you go.

Listen up, guy.

The idea is to keep tabs on who's dealing, any new players.

Watch, listen and learn. Keep your wits about you.

It's not like the academy out here.

A Fijian, Hawaiian and a Samoan going through the desert-

That was a Fijian, a Hawaiian, and a Tongan.

It wasn't Samoan.

Suddenly, bro, bang! The jib conks out.

Is this supposed to be a joke?

Yeah. Shut up, man.

Tell me when you get to the funny bit.

One macchiato, two cappuccino, and one apple rollover.

Turnover.

Pardon me?

It's an apple turnover. Only dogs roll over.

Hey, where are you from, Monica?

The Netherlands.

- Ah, Amsterdam. - Amsterdam.

Utrecht.

Do you have dykes there?

Johnny, they got lesbians everywhere, man.

Not lesbians.

You know, walls to hold up the water.

Are you knowing Holland?

No. No. I don't really know the North Shore, love.

Travel is good for the mind.

Me, I study two years, travel one year,

and then study two years more.

Oh, beautiful. Study what?

Aeronautical engineering, brother.

Hey, too smart for you, Johnny Boy. Sorry, man.

Hey, I don't remember inviting you and your two monkeys

into the conversation.

Hey, your boyfriend tell you he's a scumbag drug dealer?

Come on, bitch!

♪ She's a pain and she comes from the ♪

I said break it up!

What's your problem?

Sorry. You all right?

- All of you- - Yeah, I'm fine.

You sure?

Yeah, I'm okay.

After you.

- Cool it! - Back off!

Oi! - Johnny!

Yeah, yeah, brother.

So, the Fijian guy,

he chooses a basket of fruit.

Is this supposed to be funny?

Hey, licensing check.

You two know where we can find the licensee?

No idea.

Just come to take your drug money, huh?

Sweet. Go on. Take your money.

We don't take money, sir.

Of course you take money.

There's no shame in it. Go on, take your money.

We don't.

It's okay, baby.

I know you're too straight to take our money.

You people are on notice.

- Ooh. - Ooh, yeah.

Go on, get outta here. Run. Get outta here.

Wendy, how much was there?

Thousands.

Pay a few gas bills, eh?

- You set us up. - Glad to see you

pass the test.

And what would you have done if we hadn't?

You ready for your next lesson?

Any druggies upstairs?

How the fuck should I know? I just work here.

Whoa, whoa, whoa?

Give us a five cent piece.

Afternoon, porky.

What are you doing, sir?

Minding my own fucking business.

Do you have any ID?

You don't know who I am? DK.

Dickie?

DK. Danny Georgis Karam.

What's this? Heroin?

You want some heroin? You want some heroin?

Go and get your own.

Danny Karam, I am arresting you-

Just take it easy. Spread-

You fucking bitch! For you-

Right!

So Joe Dooley, you set us up again.

Do you want a piece of advice?

Don't make war on these guys.

He could have ODed and died.

He had heroin in one arm, cocaine in the other.

These guys don't give two shits about the law.

What they do respect is order, and that's what we got here.

It's a sort of negotiated peace

that gives us order on the streets.

Oh yeah. Oh. Oh, yeah.

I could take a lot of this.

Do you wanna extend us? I still got your credit card.

- Uh-huh. - Yeah?

Good boy.

Hey. Hey. Are you sure that I'm in?

Don't be silly.

I just wanna get some light on this.

No, no, no, no, no. Lie down, eh? Come on.

Don't you fucking bullshit me.

Whoa, whoa. Hey. I'm sorry, Donald, all right?

What's going on?

Okay, let's talk about food. Where the hell is this pizza?

I'm starving. We rang hours ago.

Hey, do you always do it for real?

What, eat pizza?

No, with clients. I haven't done a full service in weeks.

Bullshit. How do you?

Front door, back door.

Kim, that's like fraud.

No.

Better not let anyone catch you.

- Yes. - Woohoo!

God, you bloody took your time.

I don't think you're getting a tip either.

What's the matter, you never seen tits before?

Virgin Alert, Virgin Alert!

Yeah, the Hawaiian guy says,

"I'll take the water bottle.

When I get thirsty, I'll have something to drink."

You make this up yourself?

This sucks, man. Everyone carries a piece.

Even you.

Difference is we've got a license, and a good reason.

What happens now?

Send the gun to ballistics

in case it's been used in a crime,

charge you, hold you in custody overnight.

You'll appear in the bail court in the morning.

And if you've got bail money, you'll be released.

- I ain't got no money. - Tough cheese.

Well, can I make a phone call?

I have a friend who can post bail for me.

Who in his right mind would put up money

for a dickhead like you?

Johnny.

John Ibrahim?

Where do I sign?

Why put yourself on the line for this guy?

He's my brother.

I didn't know that.

No, not, you know, from the same mum.

How did you manage to buy a club so young?

Saved up. You know, work hard, save hard.

Hey, what's wrong?

Are you sure you wanna do this?

Do what?

This.

Yeah, I'm sure I wanna do this.

Why'd you join the cops?

I believe in order.

Yeah, me too.

Put your uniform back on.

Why?

So I can watch you take it off again.

Hey, why are you going?

I have to.

Please, stay.

Is it me, or the uniform?

Two Bondies and a Schooner chaser.

Is this supper or breakfast?

Supper. And a packet of bacon crisps.

You got any pies?

Debbie Webb's career as a copper

had run off the rails.

She didn't ask to be a whistleblower.

It happened by accident.

All because she had an acute sense of right and wrong,

and was silly enough to speak up, as she put it.

But it takes enormous guts to put your hand up

when everyone else is sitting on theirs.

Debbie and another whistleblower, Sergeant Mick Drury,

ran Operation Wave, an initiative to tackle car theft

dreamed up by the police minister himself.

Morning, comrade. Late one?

Technically, it hasn't finished yet,

so the answer's no.

What you doing here?

Thought you'd be at home working on your book.

We're expecting a visit from the police minister.

Today?

Fuck me, I better get cleaned up. Shit!

The police minister was in the wrong job.

What he really wanted was a uniform, a gun,

and a set of handcuffs.

Minister, allow me to present to you

the man that's actually running Operation Wave.

This is Detective Sergeant Michael Drury.

Pleasure, Minister.

Car thieves are the scourge of our society, in my view.

That's why I came up with the idea

of these special doctored cars.

Absolutely inspired, Minister.

Khalid, ready when you are, mate.

Watch this.

Gotcha.

We should have a sign pop up. "Stop. Police are on the way!"

You'll look into it, won't you, Mick?

Sir.

These doctored old bombs

became known as gotcha cars.

The operation ran for two years,

and didn't catch a single car thief.

Oh. Oh.

You're the girl from the cafe.

Before I started hooking.

You're that police officer, right?

I'm a whistleblower.

You know what they do with whistleblowers?

They bury them in a deep, dark hole.

Reminds me I'm running late. Hold these.

Here. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Here, let me do that.

Here. You've got it everywhere. Oh, yeah.

Duh.

Hey. Hey. What's it like, hooking?

It's pretty shitty.

Good money, but.

Ah, I like the last bit.

You wanna swap?

Yes, please.

Whoa. Oh.

Sorry.

I don't know why I keep doing that. Get a grip, Deb.

Life. Not what you expect, eh?

Most days, Debbie needed to fuel up

before she could face work.

Hey, do you wanna talk sometime?

But I guess some jobs do look better

through the bottom of a glass.

♪ I got some troubles, but they won't last ♪

♪ I'm gonna lay right down here in the grass ♪

♪ And pretty soon, all my troubles will pass ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm in shoo, shoo, shoo ♪

♪ Shoo, shoo, shoo ♪

♪ Shoo, shoo, shoo, shoo, shoo, shoo ♪

♪ Sugartown ♪

♪ I never had a ♪

Debbie?

Debbie, you're snoring, mate.

Fuck! Sorry. Any action?

Nah.

♪ I just lay back and laugh at the sun ♪

Dead end job. Too much grog.

Debbie knew she was losing the plot,

and it made her do increasingly stupid and dumb-arse things

like holding her gotcha cars briefing at a nudist beach.

Why don't you just go back to the normal cops?

I'm a whistleblower.

You're a bloody good cop.

- Watch, bum. - You are.

I'm an endangered species.

Hide yourself out in the squad.

I am in a squad. Sort of.

A useful one?

Squads are full of blokes with guns.

I'll get my head blown off.

Just quit.

Can't do that, Kim.

Gives me a reason to get up in the morning. What's yours?

Is this where we're supposed to meet?

Bloody nudist beach?

Meet the gotcha task force.

- Hi. - Tim. Deidre.

Now, get your gear off and follow me.

♪ If eggs had legs ♪

♪ And long hair to their knees ♪

Come on!

♪ They'd run through the flowers ♪

♪ Shinny up trees ♪

♪ They don't give a ♪

♪ They got nothing to lose ♪

♪ They're on their way ♪

Stop.

You're gonna have to turn around and go back.

Got a woman inside who's discharged a firearm.

She may have a hostage.

Point one, I'm a cop. Point two, that'll be my mom.

And point three, that's no hostage. That's my dad.

Get back. Back off. I'm a cop.

There she is.

Don't shoot, Irene, it's me.

What's their fucking problem? Eh?

What?

Irene. Irene.

That's my best gun.

In. In. Woman.

Ah, here she is, Johnny. The policewoman.

You load anyone up yet, today, love?

Who were you shooting at, Irene?

Not uncle fucking Tom again.

That low bastard.

He stole a 1930 penny off my dead daddy's body.

30 fucking years ago, Irene.

I'll bloody get it back. Don't you worry.

If it's the last thing I do.

Did you get me smoke stuff?

You made yourselves any dinner yet?

We could starve to death, for all you care.

No.

Couldn't be bothered to get off your fat arses.

Everything's all right.

Yeah, yeah. That's it.

What about you, Johnny? Cleaned your ulcers today?

Of course not.

Debbie had been

the Webb family's sole breadwinner since she was 14.

The day she left to join the police force,

it felt like all her Christmases had come at once.

♪ Well, I know where I'm going ♪

♪ And I know what I want ♪

♪ I just wanna spend some time with you, baby ♪

♪ I just wanna some time with you, baby ♪

♪ I just wanna play with you all day long ♪

♪ I just wanna do crazy things with you ♪

♪ I just wanna drink with you, all of my ♪

Kim Hollingsworth had figured out

the whole work life balance thing.

She charged absolute top dollar for hooking services,

and then spent it on stuff she loved.

Glossy magazines, Belgian chocolates, dance classes.

The New South Wales Police is an army,

16,000 strong.

14,000 of us are sworn officers.

And like the armies of the Lord,

we have sworn to uphold God's law.

We have also sworn to uphold the laws of New South Wales,

and that is what we do.

Our motto is, "Culpam poena premit comes."

"Punishment swiftly follows the crime."

These days, it's fashionable in some quarters

to accuse the police of every crime in the book.

Why? Because we're a big, slow-moving target.

There's an old Persian saying:

"Dogs may bark, but the caravan moves on."

Let me say this: I'm proud of the men and women

who serve in the New South Wales Police.

I can guarantee you

we have the healthiest, most honest, hardworking,

efficient police force in the Commonwealth.

And to that end, I get down on my knees every day

to thank God.

Sir. Well said.

Dennis Kelly, yes?

Mhmm.

Get lost, did you, Dennis?

You should be down the road at Our Lady's, surely.

We're all working for the same boss.

Now, I've been reading a lot about Freemasonry lately.

I find myself in furious agreement

with its principles and ideals.

Well, I suggest you pursue it.

Actually, that's where I was hoping you could help.

You want me to use my position in the lodge

to give you a leg up?

Well, I consider myself as part of your team, sir.

I've got news for you. I don't want you in my team.

I don't want you in my lodge,

and I certainly don't want you in my police force.

If I could, I'd kick you from here to kingdom come.

There's a smell about you, sport.

Gerry Lloyd, welcome to the National Crime Authority.

Dennis Kelly.

I'm just hoping I can bring something the mix, Gerry.

Man of your experience, I bet you you will, Dennis.

We've got a number of active references at the moment.

Some of the women in law enforcement

prefer a plain clothes uniform.

Gerry Lloyd had survived

where many other ambitious women had perished,

and male rivals put that down to the fact

that she was a ball-busting dyke.

This is what we call the East Coast Milieu.

Established targets like Abe Saffron, Lenny McPherson,

George Freeman, Stan Smith.

George is dead. Lenny's on his way to the clink.

No matter. You'll be working the Asian reference with me.

- Ah. - Chinese drug importations,

et cetera.

You've got a preference for women investigators?

Oh, it's not all about drinking yourself stupid

and playing pocket billiards, Dennis.

Women are lateral thinkers.

They pay attention to detail,

and they're bloody good at surveillance.

Most of our targets never spot us in a million years.

Yeah.

Okay, let's cut the bullshit.

Why are New South Wales Police

duck-shoving Dennis Kelly in our direction?

We've had some awful bloody duds from you lot.

Either dead from the neck up, or bent as safety pins.

Which one are you?

Come on, sweetheart. You'll give me a complex.

I fucking hope so, sport.

I'll be watching every move you make.

Likewise, sport.

You're a drug dealer, aren't you?

What?

There are a lot of guys out there like you,

and every one of them is dealing.

Oh, you think I'm just like them? Eh?

Just another drug dealer.

Hey, the day I turned 18,

I enrolled to get my liquor license.

One conviction, one mistake, I lose it.

I lose The Tunnel. I lose everything.

God, I must be insane.

Why?

Why? Being here, being with you.

I like you being here with me.

I'm a cop.

Oh, really?

I don't know what you are, John.

I don't even know who you are.

Well, what do you wanna know?

I grew up in the western suburbs.

Now I live in eastern suburbs.

Yeah, in a mansion.

Yeah.

Admit it, Sexy Johnny. You're a drug dealer.

Hey, come here.

I do not deal drugs. I hate that shit.

I spend 20 hours of the day, every day, right here,

looking after my club.

The only thing I do is this.

What the NCA has got

that you guys and the state coppers don't

is access to tax records.

Most of our frontline troops are financial advisors,

intelligence analysts, ex-AZO, ex-AFP, mostly.

What's your strike rate like?

Be a lot better if we weren't saddled

with a bunch of New South Wales deadheads.

Why'd you put your name forward?

Oh, jazz up my resume.

"'93, '94, served the National Crime Authority

Asian Reference."

Impress (indistinct).

What?

You got the nicest bum in the office.

See, I notice details too.

You're a bad boy, aren't you?

Can you make me a cup of tea?

What?

I always like a cup of tea after a big disappointment.

I thought you were supposed to be responsible

for your own orgasm.

Who says?

A modern woman looks after her own needs.

I read that in a magazine.

White, no sugar. Tea bag will do.

What's all this crap about you being a dyke?

Who says it's crap?

Oh, well, it's good for me.

Any left in the tank?

Gimme 10 minutes.

I'll be as (indistinct) as a teenager.

Actually, five should do it.

You're married.

You must be a detective.

So what? This is part of the resume thing, is it?

Another box to be ticked?

No, wait. Let me rephrase that.

Mate, I never shagged the commissioner. Trust me.

Such a bad boy, Dennis.

Dennis Kelly knew

a stint in the National Crime Authority would do his CV

no harm at all.

And while he was there, why not use the excellent facilities

to get an advantage of his great rival, Syd Hillier?

We're off to Macquarie Street. Attorney General wants us.

No need to switch off. Just log out.

Oh, now, no. What's the AG want?

We'll find out when we get there, won't we?

Is this some sort of teenage fantasy?

What, scuba diving?

Sleeping with a woman in uniform.

Maybe the first one was.

Hey.

Hi, Wendy.

Hey.

You remember Manfred.

G'day. Oh, this is my mate, John.

Hey, John.

Huh? How you going?

Good.

Hi, John.

So, what's your line of work, John?

Oh, I run a nightclub on the Cross.

Impressive scars, buddy.

Shark bites.

They're either bullet holes, scars,

or stab wounds.

No, mate, that's just my appendix scar.

Appendix?

He's not an undercover cop, is he?

Nah, mate. Not me. I play for the other team.

I'm a crook.

Beautiful day.

He's kidding. You just had to be a smart-arse.

Why'd you spring a bunch of bloody rednecks on me?

They're nice, decent people.

Decent? They wanted to string me up.

No, I wanted to string you up.

Hey, hey. Constable.

I love it when you're angry, eh?

Didn't bring your uniform, did you?

It was just a joke. That's it.

Who's Syd Hillier?

Chief Inspector with the Northwest Regional Crime Squad.

Are we interested in him?

We're interested

in why you were accessing his tax records

without authorization.

One of my fizzers told me

he might be doing business with the 5T gang,

the Cabra Mata.

A registered informer?

Of course. I know Syd Hillier's a decent bloke.

Don't buy it for a second.

But thought I'd do a background check before I bothered you.

I rang a mate of mine down at College Street.

She tells me you and Syd Hillier hate each other's guts.

Must be one of your lesbians.

I told you I'd be watching you, Dennis.

What is a policeman doing wearing a Zenier suit?

What are you accusing me of?

Prime Minister wears Zenier suits.

Did you find any discrepancies in his tax records?

Syd's, I mean.

Man's a saint, as expected.

No unexplained shares

in group one winning race horses?

We had a good look at you too.

You own a big slice of a race horse,

valued at over $500,000.

You're a major stakeholder in a motel down at the rule.

You generously sold your hard-up sister Glynnis

a charcoal chicken shop, lock, stock, and barrel,

for a single dollar.

All this on a policeman's salary.

I'm a lucky punter.

You really are a bad boy, Dennis.

Prove it.

I can't.

And you know it. You're far too smart to leave a trail.

But I can kick your arse out of the NCA.

Go back to the New South Wales Police, where you belong.

Least we'll have the memories. Hilton. Room 204.

What?

- Slow down. - How's work?

Slow down, John.

- What do you mean? - John, stop.

Don't worry, I'll lock the door. Okay?

Stop. Just-

What?

I can't see you anymore.

What?

It was wrong, and I never should have started it.

I was the one that made the moves, Wendy.

Remember?

You can't tell me to fuck off. I'm sexy Johnny. Hey?

I'm sorry.

You serious?

Okay, sweet. Cool.

I'll see you around.

Jesus, John. This doesn't have to be ugly.

Hey, you walk out on me,

you don't come back, Wendy.

Ever.

Screw A Copper Week. That's all it was to me, mate.

Whoa. Tell me you're not banging her.

Hey, fuck you.

Mate, I'll make her my bitch.

Hey, you keep your hands off her, right?

She's too good for you.

How many times do you have to wreck yourself

before you wake up?

Debbie knew she was drinking herself to death.

Life at the gotcha cars was killing her.

But what could she do? She only had two options.

Get back into the mainstream

and risk the hatred of her workmates,

or quit the coppers once and for all.

Where's my cup of tea in bed, eh?

What's the matter? You're not sick, are you?

Shit. Someone has to do the bread-winning round here.

What's up, bubby?

I don't wanna give it up.

What?

I don't wanna give it up.

What? Tell us.

The coppers.

Eh? What?

The coppers.

Jesus. Why couldn't I just have an abortion?

Listen, no bloody Webb

has ever let a copper get the better of them.

You hear me?

Comrade. What's up?

I'm shipping out.

Was it something I said?

I need to be a proper copper for a change, Mick.

Gotcha car locks give me the shits.

I've never even got to show you my etchings.

Where are you off to?

Got a transfer to a squad. Fraud.

Sticking your head above the parapet. Is that wise?

I'll take my chances. I reckon the heat's died off now.

What about your complaints? Are you gonna withdraw them?

Yeah.

No offense, Mick, but I'm not cut out to be a whistleblower.

See you.

Good luck, eh?

Debbie Webb. I'm new. The boss in?

Yeah.

If King's Cross Detectives

was a boys only club, the fraud squad was Jurassic Park.

Nothing but male dinosaurs.

Debbie Webb. G'day.

Andy Little. Bobby Flood.

Webb. That's what she said, didn't she, Andy?

We know that name, Bobby.

Look, if you've got any problems, you say it to my face.

We will. Don't worry.

Sir.

Detective Senior Constable Debbie Webb reporting for duty.

Welcome aboard, Debbie. I'm new here myself.

So, we'll have to look out for each other, won't we?

Eyes front.

Don't you ever wonder like, why we're here?

Not really.

The Samoan guy, he ripped the door off the Jeep,

and he said, "When it gets hot,

I just wind the window down."

Steve, you should be like in shows.

♪ I would dance for a dollar ♪

♪ I would swing on a pole ♪

♪ I would dance on your table ♪

♪ I'd bend over for you ♪

♪ If you want me to shake it ♪

♪ Better part with that money, honey ♪

♪ It's those dancing dollars ♪

♪ That speak volumes to me ♪

A uniform can only provide so much protection.

It can't dictate your destiny.

In the end, the only thing that really matters

is the strength of the woman inside.

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪