All language subtitles for Underbelly.S04E04.The.Damage.Done.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

I've never met anyone like you.

Same here.

Hello, miss.

You look beautiful tonight.

Thank you.

He's a lucky old coot.

You know he's married
with a couple of kids?

You're going to get me
into trouble, Little Gunman.

You need me to remind you

how well-known Kate and Tilly are?

How killing them would be the act

of a short-sighted galoot
who didn't value his neck?

You want someone to
tell you what's what.

Norman Bruhn. That's what.

Now go out and arrest him.

Now, your men, they're
prepared to stand in court,

swear it was Bruhn who cut them?

I know it's toilsome,

but we've got a common problem here.

Got an idea, do you, Jeffs?

Yeah, we scare him off,
shoot him in the knee.

Both knees.

Just kill him!

You wanna bring every
copper in Sydney down on us?

You want me
to shoot Norman Bruhn?

You the gunman or aren't you, Frankie?

Mrs. Bruhn, my condolences.

Did he say anything?

Did he tell you who shot him?

No, he didn't.

And I wouldn't tell you if he had.

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

The 1920s were
a pretty violent era.

Slashings, punch-ups, shootings, knifings,

but, strangely, not that many murders,

until Norman Bruhn came up from Melbourne

and upset the apple cart.

His brutal murder was a
signal event for the police,

for his gang and especially for
Kate Leigh and Tilly Devine.

Matilda Mary Devine,

you get out of the sack and get out here.

You open this door

or I'll come in there and
black your fucking eye!

What?

I want you to tell me why Frank Green,

a kid who wouldn't pull up his own socks

unless someone else told him to,

why he thought to put five rounds

into Norman Bruhn last night?

'Cause someone with guts told him to.

We agreed, you, me, Jeffs, your hubby.

We agreed that Bruhn was just
getting a bullet in the leg.

I'm not listening to you, Kathleen.

What do you think is gonna
happen now, you silly bitch?

Do you know what you've done?

You fucking bet I know what I done.

A bullet in the leg wasn't
gonna stop Norman Bruhn.

It would've just given him
a limp and pissed him off.

Well, you've left two kids fatherless.

His blood's on your hands.

Oh, you piss off, you smug, ugly slag.

You got no idea what I done for us.

You should be on your knees
kissing me fucking toes!

Rabbitoh!

- Left, right, left.
- Rabbitoh!

Rabbitoh!

Left, right...

- Morning.
- Morning.

We've lost a customer.

Yeah? Who?

You know that bolshie
bugger from Melbourne?

Bruhn? What about him?

Let's just say, since last night,

he ain't gonna be partaking
in fruit and flesh no more.

Watch me barrow for me.

Touch so much as a grape,
I'll chop your hand off!

Rabbitoh!

Rabbitoh! Rabbitoh!

Thank you for walking me home

and for being there.

You gonna be all right?

Yeah, yeah.

Could I, could I come in?

Uh. Oh, no.

Frankie, careful. The baby.

Okay, love!

If anyone asks, I was home all night.

Mm?

You know what happens to pups
who disobey orders, Frankie?

They get in stir.

Do something bad enough,

they face a firing squad or the nurse.

Now, granted my wife's
got a persuasive mouth,

but you still gotta do the right thing.

You follow my orders, not hers.

Do you understand me?

Yeah.

- So how's it feel?
- A bit sore.

No, no. I mean to have,
you know, popped the coot.

Told you I was the Gunman.

I knew you had it in you.

You watch yourself, mate.

The cops are crawling all
over this like bull ants.

Thanks, mate.

Keep it up
if you're good looking!

Oi!

Where's your mother?

Norman Bruhn's been shot.

You know anything about it?

It's a dangerous world.

Buggerise around with me, Kate.

This isn't a bashing or an
argy-bargy over a couple of quid.

A man has been murdered.

I told you that Norman
Bruhn was a problem.

I told you something needed
to be done about him.

So what were your whereabouts
on the night in question?

I can't remember nothing.

You don't recall the small matter

of five shots being
let off into your boss?

Don't have a boss.

You deny you're a
member of Norman Bruhn's gang?

Norman who?

Why did you go drinking
with him at Mack's?

Mack's on Charlotte Lane?

Never been there.

Is that the best you got?

You wouldn't wanna try my best.

Mr. Bruhn was dropped by taxi at Mack's

in the company of a man he called Snowy.

Moreover, the publican where
he'd been drinking earlier,

he's identified you as one of Mr. Bruhn's

most intimate and regular friends.

You know what I think, Mr. Snowy Cutmore?

I think you led your boss
into a trap that night.

I think you wanted Mr. Bruhn dead

so you could get a bigger slice
of his grubby standover pie.

- Oh, that Norman Bruhn.
- Aye.

I was his loyal fucking deputy.

So if it wasn't
you who pulled the trigger,

who was it?

Mr. Moffitt, you've been driving

a cab round here for years, right?

Well, you'd be aware that several

well-known underworld
identities frequent this area.

Jim and Tilly Devine,
Kate Leigh, Phil the Jew.

These men outside Mack's last night,

you recognize them as associates
of any of these people?

Oh, there's a lot of
likely lads about these days.

Wear their hats pulled low.

Fred, did any
of them say anything?

One of the ones
that come up the street,

he told me to get out of there.

Right, right, so he told you to leave?

"You best push off," he said.

Twice, like he knew something was up.

Could be a job
for Constable Blissett.

Ray Blissett was a
man you wanted on your side,

big, brave, incorruptible.

If he hit you, you stayed hit.

If he clobbered you, you stayed clobbered.

My bag! My bag!

Oh, my bag!

Stop! Police! Stop!

He was Bill
Mackay's one-man army

and he single-handedly
rounded up the usual suspects.

Whatever happened to "Mum"?

Or an anchor?

Need you to accompany me
down to the station, mate.

I'll come when I'm ready.

You're ready.

Over there.

Oh, so you're a tit man, hey?

Fuck off, Gaffney.

- Come on!
- Come here!

Hats.

Hats!

Now, which one of you little
birdies shot Norman Bruhn, hey?

We're set!

They're all very alike.

Just take a good look at each one.

It was very dark.

I'm a bit short-sighted.

What if they say something?

You!

Say, "You best push off."

You best push off.

You.

You best push off.

No.

You best push off?

Wife says I'm a bit hard
of hearing too, you know?

Murder in Darlinghurst!

Read it in the "Truth."

Murder in Darlinghurst!

- Thanks, mate.
- Murder in Darlinghurst!

In the "Truth"!

When was the last
time you saw Norman Bruhn?

The day he died.

I saw every single bit of him.

Did he seem worried?

Talk about his enemies?

Cover yourself, for God's sake.

Selling yourself is a
dangerous game, Nellie.

Who's gonna look after
you now Norman's gone?

I can look after myself.

Better off going back
to work for Tilly Devine.

Least you'd have some protection.

Better off still if you went home.

I'm having fun.

Constable Armfield, who shot Norman?

There's a range of suspects.

Anyone in particular?

You've probably had fun with them all.

So what have you heard?

Everyone's talking about it.

Hey, um, you haven't got
any snow, do you, Nell?

Tilly's making me work 12 hour shifts.

I'm a bit sleepy.

So are you gonna keep working here, then?

Nah, I'll be all right.

You're game.

So, Gwyn, what's the word?

Oh, who shot Norman Bruhn?

Well, Peg heard from Aggie

who was doing a special with Tom Kelly

that it was someone called the Gunman.

So Norman was shot by
someone called the Gunman?

That's Greg Gaffney, right?

Greg "The Gunman" Gaffney?

Yeah, yeah.

Oh, wait.

No, I got it wrong.

It weren't the Gunman.

It were the Little Gunman.

Thanks.

Okay, here's
this for your troubles.

Now, don't you take it!

All right, I know your mum.

I know where to find ya.

Off you go.

Run along!

Go on, run!

While Norman Bruhn

might have been problem solved,

there was still the ongoing
problem of his razor gang.

Tonight we're turning over the two-up,

get ourselves some boodle together,

get some shooters and fix
Devine and Leigh for good.

Norm used his dying breath
to anoint you boss, did he?

You got a problem with that?

Just admiring your democratic process.

Who was it, Snow?

Who knocked him?

I told you already. I didn't see.

Bull's wool! You was there.

From now on, there's
no more pussyfooting.

We're gonna get rid of the
bitches, get ourselves rich.

If you lads wanna get on,
you 'll stick with me.

I'm kicking the shit
out of this stupid city

and no one's gonna stop me.

Yeah, I don't know about that.

Hi, fellas.

Having a little wake, are we?

Don't mind me.

Keep chatting among yourselves.

Pretend I'm not here.

Bugger this.

You know the best time I ever had?

The war.

I mean, all the blood, the mud...

But I reckon I had a better time

with the Huns than I ever had here.

Mates stuck by mates.

Yeah.

Stick with me then, Jack.

I'm your ticket to the glorious future.

Hey, cheer up, will ya?

Norm's dead and we don't have to see

the gloomy bastard take the lion's share

of everything we graft no more.

Your abject grief for the
man's very moving, Snowy.

You wouldn't happened to have
a hand in the tragic events

of the other evening, now, would you?

What do you think?

Well, if he'd been shot in
the back, I'd know for sure.

I fought a war for the glorious
future of this country.

If you're the best it's got to offer,

I was wasting me bloody time.

Frank "Razor Jack" Hayes

was the first of Norman's
gang to break ranks.

He stowed away on a freighter
bound for the bright lights

and great future of the Weimar Republic

and was never heard from again.

Hey!

Play "Goodnight, Irene," you!

Mate, I've played it a
dozen times already tonight.

Go on. Play it. Play it!

♪ Irene, goodnight ♪

It was Norm's favorite.

Play it! Play it!

Play it! Play it!
- Please, get off me!

- George!
- Piss off!

I'll see you in my fucking dreams!

He felt me up every
time he come in here.

George Wallace left Sydney

to avoid a jail term for assault

and crossed the country
to fair Western Australia.

But after trying to pinch
one wallet too many,

the Midnight Raper was stabbed in the guts

and bled to death outside a public toilet.

And what of Norman Bruhn's best girl,

pretty Nellie Cameron?

All she knew was she was
fatally attracted to bad men.

She didn't know why.

How could she?

She was still only 16.

Evening, sir.

Doesn't know what he's
missing out on, hey?

How are you, Snowy?

Number one now, picking
up where Norm left off.

And what's his is mine now.

His push, his earn, his girl.

So how much will I make
outta you, pretty Nellie?

- I'm gonna go home now.
- Yeah? What did Norm take?

Eight bob out of every ten?
- Let me go!

Help! Please help me!

I bet you're worth every penny!

Don't you lot get it?

I'm the boss.

I am the boss!

I'm the-

Next time

I aim higher.

Come on.

Let's get you home.

That's him. That's Frank Green.

The Little Gunman.

You charge 15 bob a toss from now on.

You're the prettiest girl.

You should get something for it.

Frank, if I asked you where you were

the night Norman was
killed, what would you say?

None of your business.

And don't you ever
freaking question me again.

Well, mum's the word.

So now only one member

of Norman Bruhn's razor gang

was left to prey on Razorhurst.

See you, lads.

See you later, boys.

You gonna be in trouble
when you get home?

Give us your wallet, cripple.

Get in there! Come on.

Hey, hey, get out of me way!

Hey, enough!

Are you all right?

Snowy Cutmore
cut his losses in Sydney

and took himself back to the
city in the south, Melbourne,

where opportunity was knocking

because his old foe Squizzy Taylor

was already under threat

as Melbourne's number one gangster.

I'm making you your
favorite, roast lamb and peas.

But Snowy didn't
plan on a bout of the flu

or on Squizzy's first in,
best dressed attitude.

Gesundheit.

What the fuck do you want?

To teach you not to be
a scheming waste of space,

you traitorous fucking prick.

No, no, no! Squizz,
please, give me a chance.

A chance for what?

For what?

To fucking do you first, you little-

Joseph Leslie
Theodore "Squizzy" Taylor

died a few hours later in hospital

and John "Snowy" Cutmore never
got to eat his favorite tea.

The Inspector General of
Police wasn't too thrilled

with the rampant slashings
and unsolved shootings

on the streets of Darlinghurst.

He expected a result and that
Bill Mackay would deliver it.

Norman Bruhn's razor gang
has gone the way of all flesh.

We still have to solve his
murder, catch his killer

and show that Darlinghurst
is not a lawless town.

Bill, we've questioned
everyone associated with Jeffs,

the Devines and Leigh.

They've all got alibis.

Admittedly provided by themselves.

So what's the plan?

I think it's time we took a leaf

out of Norman Bruhn's book.

♪ To lie in sweat ♪

♪ On familiar sheets ♪

♪ In brick veneer on financed beds ♪

♪ In a room of silent Hardiflex ♪

♪ That certain texture,
that certain smell ♪

♪ Brings home the heavy days ♪

♪ Brings home the night-time swell ♪

♪ Oh, out on the patio we'd sit ♪

♪ And the humidity we'd breathe ♪

♪ We'd watch the lightning
crack over cane fields ♪

♪ Laugh and think ♪

♪ This is Australia, yeah ♪

Can't you tell a good
watch when you see one?

It's broken.

Oh, it's Swiss-made.

Have a look at the silver mark.

Raid! Kate, raid.

- Raid! Raid!
- Raid!

- Get outta here!
- Raid!

- Raid!
- Raid, raid!

Thank you for your kind introduction.

We're here investigating the
murder of Mr. Norman Bruhn.

We've got a few questions.

You're under arrest for supplying alcohol

during prohibited hours.

Bill needed to
break the code of silence

and his tactics to achieve it

were rather like Norman Bruhn's.

He was gonna disrupt Kate's business

until she turned informant.

Arrest wasn't a problem for Kate.

She could afford bail,
afford lawyers, afford fines.

The problem was that Bill
Mackay and his troops

turned up at one or other
of her sly grog joints

night after night

and always with the name
Norman Bruhn on their lips.

And Kate knew exactly
who she blamed for that.

Bloody Tilly bloody Devine.

Our takings were down 50% this week

thanks to the bonzer favor
she did us by knocking Bruhn.

Yeah, punters don't want coppers
breathing into their beers.

Funny that.

I'm gonna pay her back and some.

Here.

Let me.

If Mackay's gonna
make the grog hard work,

then we have to expand the snow.

Phil the Jew said he can supply me

with as much as I can shift.

How many blokes you got selling it?

Half a dozen.

I'll need some more.

I could rustle you up a few lads.

Huh, the lads you
know look like you, Wal.

Toffs from the suburbs
buying angie want to think

they're a cut above such undesirables.

Oh, only want good-lookers
working for you now, hey?

Yeah, I'm sick of your ugly mug.

What?

Oh.

Two birds, one stone.

Oh, look at them lightweight woolens.

Yeah, 12 and 6 a yard, but.

What about them chine frocks?

I love that green one.

What is it? 39 and 6?

Phew!

How many blokes would you have to service

before you could afford that?

You'd be working all day.

What does Tilly let you keep, huh?

Five bob of every twenty?

Four, three?

Oh, wouldn't it be nice
to work for someone

who doesn't take such a
big bite of your earn, hm?

We ain't discussing
our financial affairs

with you, Mrs. Leigh.

Come on, girls.

Wouldn't you love not having to worry

every month about getting
in the bumpy way, hm?

About some sweaty bloke
giving you the pox?

This ain't a good idea.

Don't be such a killjoy. Huh!

What's wrong with having
what the rich folk have?

Hmm?

I don't know, girls.

It's a nasty old world.

Best enjoy it while you can.

Come on, lover.

Don't.

Oh, come on!

- Stop it!
- Go on.

What's the matter? Can't you dance?

Don't!

Don't take that tone with me.

Hey, don't take that tone with her!

The lady wants a dance.

It's pretty stiff not to oblige her.

Crapetti, isn't it?

It's Calletti.

Right. Fuck off and keep
your dago nose to yourself.

Frank! Front and center.

Go home.

Are we still going to the dance?

Go home!

I'll meet you there.

Go home!

You belong to the
Little Gunman now, do ya?

He looks after me, yes.

Bruhn, Green...

When are you gonna find yourself

a man with a bit of real color?

Just a dance.

Looking for something
special to add to your night?

Lovely snowy white it is.

And only five shillings a snifter.

♪ Your smile, beyond compare ♪

♪ Your style, so debonair ♪

Oh, my gosh.

Where's Peg and Beth?

Well, it wasn't my fault.

♪ Somehow, you hold that magic power ♪

- Going good, yeah?
- Yeah, brilliant.

Blokes think we're selling one
thing and stay for the other.

Good girls.

And one for later?

You shut your mouth.

Shut your mouth.
- I don't believe it.

Poaching me girls, hey?

That's a new low even
for a slut from Dubbo.

Come here, you ungrateful moll!

Let them go, Devine!

They can work for Kate if they want.

And you fucking owe her
anyway, trouble you've caused!

Fuck-ugly! You all want trouble?

Well, here it is. Come here!
- Fuck off!

Oh fuck. Fuck you!

Go!

Peg! No!

Kate.

Oh, Jesus.

Constable Blissett, isn't it?

So what's a bloke who bashes
up people for a living

doing in here?

Same as you.

Just having a chat with the Almighty.

Listen to you, does he?

Answer your prayers?

Souths have won a few
premierships of late

so I'm not complaining.

What do you ask for?

Not gonna use it against you.

Don't worry.

I was brought up Methodist.

I just got engaged and me
fiancée, she's a staunch Mick.

So here I am, learning me new dogmas.

What do you pray for?

Guidance.

Mrs. Leigh.

The candle, who's that for?

Norman Bruhn.

Looking for some fun there?

Oh!

Two on one? Hardly fair, Wal.

You tell that to them poor tarts.

Why was Nugget on his own?

Why was he on his own?

Where was Frank?

I gave him the night off.

Oh, Jesus, Jim!

How fucking thick are you?

And so it went.

Tilly slashed Kate's people.

Kate slashed Tilly's.

And their personal feud
fed on the blood of others.

No one was safe.

Stood you up, has he?

Are you following me, Mr Calletti?

Yeah.

Wanna know why?

'Cause I wanna have you, Nellie.

I wanna own you.

I wanna have you and watch
other blokes have you

and take their money from them

and no matter how much they spend on you

or how much they fuck you,

I want them to know that they got nothing

because they don't own you.

I do.

15 schillings, thanks, mate.

You want her?

Fine.

15 bob.

What if I don't wanna pay?

Well, then you're pitching for my girl

and I'll drop you for it.

I could take you out like that.

What? A barrow boy and two-bit hood?

Come on.

You know who I am?

You know what I've done?

You know who I've fixed, hm?

Do you know what they call me?

They call me-

Frank!

Guido!

Frank Green
lost his spoils of war.

Nellie Cameron became Guido Calletti's

best girl and meal ticket.

But not to worry.

Frank would win back
pretty Nellie soon enough.

The hit on Norman Bruhn

changed everything for Kate and Tilly.

The fallout from his death

upped the ante on their rivalry.

Plus they knew they'd
got away with murder.

The stakes could only rise.

We have to obey the law, but they don't.

Look at them.

Up to their pits in no good.

And we know they're plotting and scheming.

We doing nothing about it.

We just have to sit here and wait

and then pick up the fucking pieces.

Six o'clock, gentlemen!

If you can't drink 'em, leave 'em.

If you can't leave 'em, drink 'em!

That fucking stupid law.

♪ This is Australia ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪

♪ It's a jungle out there ♪