Original subtitles

Instructions to police officers regarding the keeping of diaries.

General entries will not be accepted.

The object of visiting places must be recorded.

Movements must be arranged so that different inquiries may be combined.

Impressions may be usefully recorded and even matters not of a strictly official

character that may be of interest to the service.

The mere entry visiting or patrolling is insufficient, as it is almost impossible

that a vigilant officer, whilst in the performance of his ordinary duties, will

see nothing worthy of closer notice.

The police force always brought fear into our lives.

Dad at the scene of the crime, pointing to the evidence.

It's hardly the kind of thing most kids find in the family photo album.

Photography was the latest of Dad's many enthusiasms.

My brother phoned.

Dad had died.

His second heart attack.

A city in the desert.

Light's vision.

The first city in the world to be planned with a ring of parklands.

A greenbelt to act as a buffer between the worlds of home and work.

I thought it best that she go home.

At the wake, I pored over the photographs of my father, absorbing the

smallest detail, the most insignificant shadow.

I couldn't find any traces of myself in the photographic record of Dad's life.

I don't know why I bother putting the things on. They always come off.

Rosie?

I'd recognise that smile anywhere.

You must be Jean.

You know that your dad and I were going to get married.

I'm sorry.

Look, this is a bit of an odd time to ask, but I was wondering if you'd like

to stay with me while you're in Adelaide.

Cliff would have liked that.

Sorry, dear.

I had to come.

Des, my late husband, had a lot of time for your father.

He was worried something like this might happen.

Like what?

It's time now for Ernie Digley's Adelaide Tonight. On tonight's show,

you'll see Anne Will, James Pegler, Connie Lopez, Robin Gill,

Annette Scott, and John Crossing.

And now, here's your host, Ernie Digley.

Beautiful. I thought if we had a festival theatre show that we'd have

to... Put a bit of culture up the back and put a ballet in. So we decided we'd

do a ballet.

I'm sure your dad would have wanted you to have these.

You know, Dave Harrison mentioned something about wanting them, but I said

I thought I'd better keep them for you.

I mean, I don't know what you're going to make of them, though, love.

Clip wasn't much of a writer.

He was more of a list maker, really.

When I was a kid, I... used to find these little...

scraps of paper.

You know, plan to replace dining room table in two years.

Investigate washer on front tap.

Anyone else would just... buy the bloody table or the tap fitting.

Used to drive me crazy.

That'll be Cliff.

The Commodore patrols Adelaide.

Dad's at his most comfortable in the driver's seat.

Our itinerary is carefully considered.

At the wheel of a car, Dad never loses his sense of being on duty.

Double five, one, nine.

Speed on.

Two,

one, four, three.

Yeah, what?

Two, one, four, three.

Can't be right.

This is the only official record of the life of Clifford Thomas Davey, 1991.

51 years on the clock.

Health not the best.

Detective Sergeant, 23 years on the job.

Annual base salary, $36,344.

Two grown-up kids, house, a car, little money, pension for life.

September 4th, 1968.

Dedicated to the South Australian Police Force.

Part-time bandsman, part-time police officer.

Adelaide, capital of South Australia. On this sunny Saturday morning in November,

getting ready for Johnny's Christmas pageant, and a very well-fed Father

Christmas beams over it all from the pageant store, John Martin's, in Rundle

Street.

Police come from all states of Australia just to watch the pageant as an exercise

in crowd control.

Half a million people lining the streets, and not one barricade.

Just a blue honour line that runs on either side of the pageant roof.

Maybe right.

Christmas must be the busiest time, if I'm aside.

Families getting together.

Remember last year as the Wilkinson murder?

See that, Tiger?

We live in the driest state and the driest continent in the world.

You know that?

Yeah? You know that?

We have to build this soil up a bit so we can keep the water in.

We'll put some roses right along the fence there.

Yeah, because roses are good to have in vases.

Since you phoned, I had my secretary hunt up some photos of houses I thought

you might like.

Oh, this is attractive, Bob.

I like the porch idea.

Looks nice and light, too.

How about this one?

Mm-hmm.

Yes, I'd rather like that.

But I think this is perhaps more in my style.

They've all got nice big windows, haven't they?

Dad, I'm starving.

Might be long.

Are you going to buy it or not?

No.

Oh, Dad, if it gets you from A to B.

That's sacrilege.

Never thought I'd see you today.

February 10th, 1992.

Rosy visits from Sydney.

Botanic gardens followed by a meal at the Gooja Street Fish Cafe.

Never thought I'd say the day.

I've forgotten about these.

Dad used to talk about retiring to one of these towns.

So Renmark.

And managing a caravan park.

Did he still talk about that?

He always reckoned he was going to do what that other bloke did.

What was his name?

He was a sergeant in at Angus Street.

Crawford. His wife has always honoured him to take a bit of a holiday, you

know, spend more time with the grandkids.

So he took all the keys from the cells and the exhibit room and took them out

on the front steps of the police headquarters.

And he handed them out to whoever was going by.

I mean, shoppers, anyone.

Yes, I can see that might have appealed to them.

Have a nice day, sir. Good morning, madam, as he's handing out the keys.

It was a huge kerfuffle. All the bigwigs came down and got him out quick, bloody

smart.

Pensioned him out on full pay.

You know, Cliff reckoned he could easily pull a stunt like that.

I didn't know about Dad's accident.

What accident?

Oh, you mean when Clip had his first heart attack.

You were living in Adelaide then, weren't you?

When the Commodore got ridden off?

Clip got rid of the Commodore because he needed the cash.

Yes, he bought that old station wagon instead.

Now, I told you, he looked like a real hoon driving around in it.

But he said a set of wheels is just a set of wheels.

Staying with Jean, then?

Not just some friends.

If you do see Jean, you could ask her to give some of the photographs back.

Your father took every last photograph of himself out of the album when he

left.

It's just like he never lived here.

I'm sure Jean will let you have some photographs.

Lots of them were of your children when we first moved in here.

I get the feeling that Dad was planning on leaving the force.

I wouldn't know, love.

I hadn't really seen much of your father since he took up with that woman.

You know how secretive he was.

All those bushes he planted out the back.

Now no light gets in there at all.

Policemen. Start to feed trouble everywhere.

Cliff was a very naive man in many ways.

Dad wanted me to join the police force.

God knows why.

As far as I'm concerned, the police force killed Dad.

That's all there is to it.

Do you

think Dad

could have been in some sort of trouble?

Well, if he was, it's not worth worrying about now.

Haven't I got a right to know?

What have you found out?

I don't know if it's anything.

A couple of Dad's mates left the force in a hurry. Hmm?

Bought a stationary shot.

Another one, an inspector, went back in a uniform.

But you know what cops are like.

They're as thick as thieves.

Dad was involved in something.

It's just a possibility.

Well, he could have lost his job.

He didn't lose his job, did he?

Jean will be collecting nicely on the super, I suppose.

If it was money she was after, I dare say she could have done better than a

detective sergeant.

October 10th, 1968.

Jane Moffat of Walkerville took delivery of Triumph Model TR2.

Paid some of 20 pounds, parts only.

Investigate purchase of second-hand Holden sedan, custom credit repayment

scheme.

Substantial five-year financial commitment.

Hello. Haven't seen you for a long while.

Just driving by. Thought I'd drop in. Good. Come and say hello to Reg.

Thank you.

How are you, Ron?

Fine, thanks, Reg.

G'day, Alan.

Hello, Edmund.

My word, I like the way you've furnished this room. Yes, we're very comfortable

now. Had a bit of fun and games getting things straight, of course.

Fun, was it?

We've tried to get a nice bright look right throughout the house.

A toast to Cliffy, the old reprobate.

One thing Dad used to have a go at you about, Dave.

You know how he thought the only word fish up at the best fish and chips in

Adelaide. Oh, he could have love. I always preferred George's down at

Woodville.

Vastly inferior.

Dad used to say that the only time he got you down to the Unley Road fish

shop, you were called out on the job.

And by the time you got back to the West Parklands to eat the fish and chips,

they were barely warm.

They were a bit soggy.

That's right.

And I said, geez, I don't think much of your best fish and chips in Adelaide.

You nearly hit the bloody roof.

He wouldn't have thought it a fair comparison.

When we were kids, we had to go all the way from Northfield to Amelie, even

though there was a fish shop just around the corner.

He could be very particular about some things, Clifford.

So, how's Jean getting along?

As well as you'd expect.

Jean tells me you've got those diaries, Eclipse.

I wouldn't mind taking a look at them sometime.

I don't think they're interesting enough.

They are police property, you know.

Diaries are to be entered up daily, except under special circumstances.

When completed, they will carefully be recorded in the personal care of the

inspector, who will see that nothing therein is divulged to anyone without

good official reason in the furtherance of justice.

What's the house number?

It's a bit further down.

Just drop me here.

No, no, no.

Door-to-door service.

Nice to see you again, Dave. Thanks for dinner.

You know, even Clippy didn't have a permanent booking on Wings in her high

life.

August 10th, 1991.

Called in from annual leave, remissing drug exhibits.

September 16th, 1991.

Admitted to Queen Elizabeth Hospital.

Heart attack.

Cliff took those snaps at the barbecue we had for John and Val when they got

engaged.

Mind you, little Scott was a good 18 months old then.

It was high time they did something.

Cliff adored Scott.

Tell me he babysat.

Oh, too right. Changed nappies the lot.

Nothing was too much trouble.

I don't think I ever saw Dad as relaxed as this.

Is that actually a lei around his neck?

Oh, he could be the life of the party, Cliff.

He loved entertaining, having people round.

Well, it wasn't like that at home.

Well, he deserved a chance to let his hair down a bit.

Jean, I'm wondering what you'd make of some of the entries in his diaries.

Honestly, I don't want to know, dear.

I told Cliff there was no need to keep writing things down when he had me to

talk to.

Manual summary, 1992.

Drug squad, last posting now.

Plan for retirement.

What have I got from being a copper?

Educated me.

Gave me a regular paycheck.

Security.

A good education for the kids.

The chance to make something of myself.

Friends. The respect of the community.

Taught me to drink.

Here you go, kid.

Here you go.

Don't spill it.

Behave yourself.

Not much song to love. Just one more. Just one more?

Shall I make a cup of tea?

I've got a bottle here.

I've had enough for one night.

It's neat.

Right.

That's the way Clippy would have liked it.

When did Dad take up the trombone again?

He hadn't played it for years.

Well, Clippy kept saying he was going to take it up again, but he said he hadn't

got the time.

And then I said, make the bloody time.

He always had one hour on the clock.

He told me once that he'd charted his time and it came out 90% work, 10%

house and garden, friends and relatives.

Dad was a bit embarrassed.

The police force always brought fear into our lives.

Our family was never a place to feel safe.

That's what I mean, we're kitten tiger.

James' kids gave it to me.

I'll be impressed when he has me.

I don't even know where you live anymore.

It's just to be off the face of the earth and all you can tell me about is

your new camera and your kitten.

You can always contact me through the land of promises, Rosie. You know that?

John?

I can always get in touch through him. He's a good mate of mine.

I suppose I should call from the public phone box, let the phone ring six times

and speak in code.

I don't think I know anyone who has to contact their father through the local

publican.

Rosie, I'm not just a uniform, you know.

People walk out of marriages every day.

Look, things are different for kids your age.

Years ago, if you were a divorced man in the police force, it would be

practically the end of your career.

It's always okay to booze on all night as long as you're made at home by

morning.

When things settle down, I'll give you an address.

January 5, 1992.

Operation J implemented.

All proceeding according to plan.

I'll be holding you I'll be holding you

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Have you got any photographs of Jane?

No, you don't want to see those.

Come on, Jane.

This one.

That's a great dress.

I'd change that one myself.

Never thought I'd find myself in a John Martens lady's fashion.

Pretty you out there with me, right?

The attack on the frocks has improved, Dad.

You remember that dress?

The one you brought home after the break in at Leanne's frock salon?

Mm-hmm.

I must have been 13.

Oh, no, I was 14.

The dress was in wool.

It was hot pink and had these... They were striped.

Yellow and blue stripes. It was...

through neck to knee. That's right.

Nice.

Well, it was great. It was a day glow in nature. Well,

in any case, you couldn't resist the bargain. No.

We are, dear.

I'm sorry to have come at such short notice.

It's usually just me here of an evening.

That's Ted's wag. I remember that you mentioned your husband, uh, Des.

Des used to be the admin sergeant on the drug squad just before your father did.

He was never one of those coppers to spend half his time off down the pub.

He always came straight home, dead on time.

Knew there'd be a good dinner waiting.

And fit.

He walked to work every morning.

You could set your watch by him.

Local kids used to say, there goes the sergeant.

You must miss him very much.

After he joined the Drudge Squad, he became so quiet and withdrawn.

Before, he'd always tell me what was worrying him.

I knew something was wrong.

Did you know Dad's first posting was with the Anti-Larrikin Squad?

Gangs of... Teenage is loitering in Hindley Street, which is supposed to be

the biggest threat to Laura and Oda.

What do you think happened?

He became like a stranger to us.

Like a family.

Did he ever mention Dad?

Shadow Attorney General Mr. Andrews, who made the allegations under parliamentary

privilege, refused to name the police officers believed to be responsible for

dealing in illegal substances.

Your father gave this to Dad for safekeeping.

What's in it?

I don't know, dear.

I'd just rather have it out of the house.

What's that call, Lainey? Keep on singing.

Gene?

I hope they got what they came for.

I'd like to take this home with you.

You'll never regret knowing something about growing things, you know?

I'll always remember Dad saying, you can't just do what you like in this

life, you know?

And I thought, why not?

Dad seems to have been on the point of resigning from the police force.

But how do the rest of us resign from a world of shadows, secrets?

Bye.