All language subtitles for Episode 12 Tomato Can

Hey! No biting in the clinches.

Have a good one, kid.

Yeah, like he means it.
You've got 12 and 0.

All the money's on you.
You win, he loses.

I'll pick you up after?

Yeah.

Love you, Curtis.

Time to get taped up, Curtis.

Lara.

Not gonna stick around, Lara?
Why would I put myself through it?

It was bad enough
when he was amateur.

Take care of my husband.

Always do.

Move! Lift your feet!

Left-hander, go on!

Cover up, cover up, cover up!

Wanna see that left hand.

Work that left hand.
That's it!

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Come on, sit down!

You right? You know where you are, eh?

You start working that left hand!
You look like a pussy out there!

He's the tomato can, not you!
Get in there. Get in there, Curtis!

Left hand! Left hand!

Come on, cover up, cover up!

One...two...three...four...five...

..six...seven...eight...nine...

J' Fighting the good fight... J'

Are you sure?

Right. Thanks.

Got a murder for you.

Curtis Conlon. The Kid.

Middleweight, young,
fast, up-and-comer.

Could've been a contender?
Maybe.

12 professional bouts, 12 wins.

He could fight, believe me.
Kid was going places.

Mattie, what are you doing here?

Detective Sergeant Ryan,
your new squad sergeant, my new 2lC.

Surprise!
Congratulations, Sergeant.

Well, bugger me.
How are you, Sergeant?

Sit down, Sergeant Ryan.
You're making me nervous.

Sorry to be late, sir. I got tied up.
Sewing on his stripes.

The Conlon murder, you're across it?

Sarge.
Well, that's something at least.

His last opponent,
Benji Fa'alonga, 'Big Ben'.

With the killer punch.
-Yeah, once maybe.

He's been doing the rounds
in the Pacific.

Samoan champion.
Big in the Islands, but over the hill.

He's what they call a �tomato can� now.

Meaning?

Red stuff comes out
of tomato cans, right?

A punching bag.
Yeah.

Who hasn't got a hope in hell
of beating his opponent,

no matter how much they promote him.

But this guy did win.
Win? No, it was a rout.

The toxicology report indicates

significant traces of
benzodiazepine and warfarin.

He was nobbled. Supposed to
look like a fight night accident.

Except, this time, it was murder.

OK, task allocation,
thank you, Sergeant.

OK, guys, we need to start looking into
the victim's background.

Associates, history, financials,
the whole shebang. Nick and Jen.

Sarge.
Got it.

I'll take the betting angle, look at who's
running books on the fights these days.

Will you have time?
Don't you have to set up the office?

Yep.

Anyway, Conlon's widow is pregnant.

Obviously, she knows he's dead,

but murder's gonna be
a whole new ball game.

Allie, where's what's-his-name,
the new bloke, Waverley's nephew?

Rhys Levitt. He's at the morgue.

OK, you and Duncan.

Sarge.

J� Fighting the good fight... J"

It was bad enough Curtis being killed,

and now you're telling me
he was murdered.

I don't understand.

Your husband was drugged,
Mrs Conlon.

He was set up for the king hit.
But who'd wanna do that to him?

Everybody liked Curtis.
Not just boxing people, everybody.

Are these the only drugs in the house?

Yeah, I'm into natural remedies.

Drugs are bad for the baby.
He won a lot of fights.

Not a lot to show for it,
is that what you mean?

The big-money fights were
just around the corner, they reckoned.

No, I mean, there's plenty of trophies.

A talent, was he?
Yeah.

Oh, those trophies are all amateur, but.
And that's his dad.

He used to coach him.
-And where's he?

Oh, he had to go to the morgue
to say that it was Curtis.

I told him I couldn't do it.

Curtis has always just been
a sweet, simple guy to me.

He was good at boxing. That gave us
a shot at a better life, that's all.

And now...
How are you gonna cope?

Was your husband insured?
Yeah, in our dreams.

Do you know what kind of premiums
they charge boxers?

Lara? I saw the car pull up.

It's the police. They're, um...

They're saying that Curtis was drugged.
Drugged?

But that doesn't make any sense.
And you are?

I'm Desiree Spalding.
I live across the road.

We're best friends.

Mrs Conlon, it'd help us
focus on a suspect

if we can work out when Curtis
was given the drug and how.

I have no idea. He was fine
when I dropped him off.

Were there many people there?
His crew, other fighters.

Someone must've gotten to his water
or electrolytes or something. But why?

With the baby, your husband didn't
get involved in anything, did he?

To make fast money.
No.

Maybe something that got out of hand?
What are you saying?

She's upset.
-Stacking fights, betting.

Skimming purses.

Curtis'd never get involved
in any of that. Never.

You don't know about
anything like that, Mrs Conlon?

I told you, no.
So who would?

Well, Wayne Styles, she reckons.
Curtis's trainer.

He also had access to the water,
like corner man Vince Rossett.

OK. Let's go and talk to them.

Anything show up
in the Conlons' financials?

No, nothing useful.
it all looks pretty much hand-to-mouth.

They might've been winning in the ring,
but they're doing it pretty hard at home.

Well, how's that work?
12 wins from 12 bouts.

Well, the big paydays are still to come.

Up until this point,
it was all just �gonna be�.

Any suspects show up
from the backgrounding?

No, nothing useful there either.

OK, let's you and me go
and talk to Wayne Styles,

see what he's got to say for himself.

Oh, I thought you might wanna
start your shiny-pants routine.

You know, polishing
a chair in here, Sarge.

No, I've got cabin fever from being
in here for a couple of hours already.

You and Nick go and suss out
Benji Fa'alonga, Jen.

Perhaps he got sick of being
a tomato can.

So, what, the only way he could win
was to drug his opponent?

It's possible.
How'd you go on the bookies?

Oh, I got a couple of leads.

Get the new bloke to follow up on them
when he gets back.

Sure, I'll put them on his desk.

And I'll get the car. Hey, does a nice new
vehicle come with the new stripe?

Yeah, as if.

So, how are you, Mattie?

You good?

You and Emma sorted?

Yeah, I'm great.

All put to bed. This is my life now.

Well, all power to you, Sergeant.

Body, body, head.

MA'l'l': Not there?

It's Jen. Fa'alonga's not home.

OK, well, you head back
to the office and help...

What's the new bloke's name again?

Rhys.

..Rhys, and look into
Fa'alonga's financials, too, OK?

Cover him up. Come on, snap it out.
Wayne Styles!

Mr Styles!

Mr Styles is busy.

And you are?
Who wants to know?

Detective Sergeant Ryan.
Detective Freeman.

Vince Rossett.
We need to talk to you too.

Take a break, mate.

Is this about Curtis Conlon?

You worked his corner?
Yeah, so?

You were his sparring partner, and you
were in the dressing room with him?

Yes again. What's this about?

What'd he drink
an hour before the fight?

Uh, just water, electrolyte boosters...
Nothing to slow him down?

Nobody spiked his fluids,
if that's what you're thinking.

I had them in my sight the whole time.

What about training? You handle
his fluids through the week too?

Yeah! Look, what is this?

You and Curtis were good mates?

Yeah, we came up through
the amateurs together.

You ever fight him?
Yeah, I lost to him last year on a TKO.

I broke my right hand on his head.

Mustn't have been too good
for your career.

Yeah, well, I'll never fight again.

You end up as your best mate's
corner man and sparring partner.

Bit of a comedown.
What are you saying?

I didn't nobble him, nobody did.
Why the hell would we do that?

You prick, Styles!
Eh, eh, settle down, Mick!

Don't want any trouble here, mate.

Wave a wad of cash
under my boy's nose,

get him in your stable,
then sell him down the river!

Hang on, hang on.
Nobody sold your son out.

I'm not gonna ask you again,
alright, Mick?

I've just been down to the morgue
to see him, you bastard.

Without that boy, you're nothing!

At least I'm not a clapped-out old hack
like you, you silly idiot.

OK, OK, that's enough!

I'll see you on your arse, you little prick!

Alright, alright,
you wanna make a go of it?!

You can do it in our ring!

He was murdered?

Wayne Styles, I'll bet.

How do you know
Wayne Styles was involved?

Because he's a crook, that's why.

He's always got
some scam going, you know.

Gambling, money laundering,
dangerous friends.

And Curtis got caught up in it?
Well, what do you think?

It wasn't murder. It was a freak accident.

I spoke the to the doctor ringside.

Probable subdural haemorrhage,

either from the punch
or banging his scone on the canvas.

Were they drug-tested before the fight?

Give us a break, mate.
Doesn't happen. it's too expensive.

Why do you wanna know
about drugs for, anyway?

Your boy was slipped a sedative
and a blood thinner.

Oh, well, I don't know
anything about that.

I knew it. I knew
there was something wrong.

It looked like he was throwing the fight,
but he'd never do that.

You don't think so?
I know so.

I brought him up,
trained him since he was 11.

I know my son.

He went down the same route I did,
only I managed to get out.

What do you mean?
I turned pro about his age.

Lasted two years, then I went back
to the amateurs to coach.

Why?

Because the amateurs game
is about the sport.

Professional boxing's
only about one thing - bloody money!

There's nothing wrong with earning good
money for something you're good at.

Yeah, except Conlon wasn't earning
good money, was he?

Not yet, he wasn't. He was going OK.

Is that how you poached him away from
his father? The promise of big money?

I didn't poach him.

He didn't take much convincing.

He was an Olympic prospect.
I knew how to get the best out of him.

He's a southpaw, like me. Only better.

He was special.

So, who got to him, then?
Who benefited?

Not me, that's for sure.

I just lost my best fighter.

All that time and effort I put in -
no payday!

Place any bets?
Money's their god. It ain't mine.

Who was running the book?
What book's that?

There's always a book.

Bookie's name - Brian Hooking.

He's got form.

Misdemeanours, illegal gambling.
He's a rogue.

Runs in the family.
His uncle's sheet reads the same.

Well, I checked mobile phones -
nothing under the name.

I wonder why.

Looking at his record,
I wouldn't be surprised

if he didn't help himself
by stacking the odds.

The drugs?
Or Benji.

I was wondering if Fa'alonga
might've been in on a fix.

Well, Jarvis did say he was a has-been.

Maybe his last chance to earn
some big money. Maybe he's in hiding.

Could be the reason
why Jen couldn't track him down.

Worried that the big gamblers who
lost on Curtis would be out for his blood.

Maybe we should get a warrant
and check out Benji's place.

On what grounds? No.

But we might have genuine concern
for his safety, eh?

Let's go back and check on his welfare.

Nice neighbourhood.

Did you lock the car?

So who's going to knock?
You'll knock.

You're the sergeant.
Sergeants don't knock.

Sergeants stand back.

Mr Fa'alonga!

Detectives knock, sergeants call out.

Welfare check, then?

You be alright to walk
around the back, Sarge?

Piss off, you bastards!

Ahhh!

CALM DOWN! WE'RE THE POLICE!

Take it easy! We're the police!

You're under arrest.

I didn't know youse were cops.

So who were you
scared of, Benji?

I just killed someone in the ring.
What do you think?

Well, I think it's a hard life, boxing.

And I think maybe you could use
the extra cash.

Yeah, I could. Yeah, I've got
a family to look after back home.

These blokes pay me nothing.
You don't make money losing.

Except this time you won, didn't you?

Yeah, l...l couldn't believe it.

You know, I was a no-chance.

But when the Kid went down,
I didn't what was going on.

I thought he was throwing it.
So tell us.

Why'd you come out swinging just now?

Uh...I'm sorry, man.

Who were you expecting, Benji?

Well, the fight was rigged.
Some peeps might think I was in on it.

Well, the fight was rigged.
He was sedated.

And here I was thinking, you know,
I might have it after all.

Dumb, eh?

So you didn't know?
Nah.

You were in the Kid's dressing room
before the fight.

I went in there to wish him luck!

But the Kid said he didn't need it.
Neither did you, as it turned out.

Hey! I might be a bloody hack, alright?!

But I never ever cheated
in my life! Ever!

If I would've known, I wouldn't have got
excited and hit him so hard, would I?

No?
NO! I KILLED HIM!

He was married, he had a baby
on the way, and I killed him!

He was set up, Benji.
It wasn't just your punch that killed him.

That's supposed
to make me feel better?

You know, he's dead. The man's dead.

And I spent the whole morning
down at church

praying to God, asking for forgiveness.

But the man's dead.

Anyone you can think of
who might want that to happen?

Kill him?

No.

But to lose maybe.

Who?

Yeah, that bookie, Brian Hooking.

If Curtis won, cost him a fortune.

You could at least buy me a beer.
This is entrapment.

You're the one who suggested we meet.
I thought you wanted to put a bet on.

You are running
an illegal betting operation.

Get off the grass.

It's an Aussie tradition, mate.
it's the family way.

My dad, my uncle -
we're not hurting anybody.

Unless you're involved in fixing fights.

Eh? You never heard of
the honest bookie?

Have you ever heard of
a tomato can who was going to win?

Good chance for a lot of money.

Look, we don't give
a rat's arse about your business,

but if it's tied up with Curtis Conlon's
murder, we'll be all over you.

He was murdered?
-He was nobbled.

And you made plenty
when the favourite went down.

Oh, you reckon? Nothing to do with me.

Were you a mate of Curtis Conlon's?
No.

How about Fa'alonga, the tomato can?

Look, I know both of them,
but we're not mates.

OK. I knew Benji was way past it.

But he didn't. He'd been banging on
for ages about getting back on top.

If anyone wanted to slow
Curtis Conlon down, it'd be him.

Any big money bet on him?
Late?

Oh, come on, fellas.
Client confidentiality.

Oh, come on, Brian. Murder.

So where's the paper on the fight?

What paper?

I can get a warrant, if I have to.

I'm gonna need that back.

This is in code.

Look, I start giving you
my punters' names,

I might as well dig my own grave.

We'll work it out.

Me?
Who else?

You graduated from Oxford.
Yeah, in criminology, not cryptology.

Are you serious, Sergeant?
The amounts are obvious.

There's a couple of big ones in there.

All you have to do is focus on
his code for the names.

Shouldn't be too hard
with your...34-inch screen.

Well, what about these other leads?

Anything useful?
No, nothing yet.

Just small-time bookies. None of them
laid real money on the fight.

So focus on the code, Rhys.
Nice to meet you.

Enjoy the desk.
You've got big shoes to fill.

Sergeant!
Senior Sergeant?

Good to be back in plain clothes?
You bet.

So how was Mildura?

Mildura was hot.

Good training ground.
Oh, I'm not complaining, Sarge.

I know the rules.
Yeah.

You know it is highly unusual

for a newly promoted officer
to return to his old squad?

You don't agree with me
coming back here, Sarge?

I just think it's a tough call-
coming back to your old team with rank.

They're your mates, you're close.

All of a sudden, you can't afford
to be quite so close.

Is that advice?

It's an observation.

I'll deal with it. No problem.

If there are any problems, talk to me.

I'll deal with it.

Got an update for me, Sergeant?
I'm just about to pick up Duncan.

We're gonna talk to Vince Rossett,
the corner man, again.

We got interrupted last time.

He had motive. It could be reven...
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

How'd you go with Brian Hooking?
Got his book from him, sir.

His bets on the Conlon fight.
He mention my name?

Why would he do that?
Oh, I placed a few bets through him.

Really?

Yeah, for the Gaming Squad.

No, sir, he didn't mention your name.
But don't worry, we'll get him shut down.

Oh, shut him down? No.

Let's not get ahead
of ourselves here, Ryan.

We're Homicide.
Yeah...

No, leave the man alone.
Continue on with your investigation.

Shut him down, my arse!

Good boy. Alright, don't let him
get you in the corner like that.

You're gonna have to push him out.
Push him out! Push him away!

Body! Body! That's the lad.

That's a good boy.
Keep an eye on him. Don't...

Wayne Styles?
What do you two want?

We wanna talk to Vince Rossett.

Vincey! Vince, Vince!
Come talk to these two clowns.

Alright, Larry, good work.
Let's go and work the bag, eh?

Want you to stay warm.

Not done here yet.

Good boy.

What?
Simple, really.

Curtis Conlon, he looked like making it.
You were out of the running.

You broke your hand on his head
in your last fight.

Oh, what, so I drugged him
so he'd lose?

You were jealous of his success,
and he died, maybe by mistake.

So were you? Jealous of him?

Yeah, I was. But I didn't kill him.

We were best mates. Curtis looked
after me when I broke my right hand.

Wayne wanted to cut me loose,

but Curtis talked him into
keeping me on for sparring.

I was in his corner. We were mates!

So you didn't bet any money
against him?

No.
No?

You can't fight.
No big purses coming your way.

You don't need money?

You got
a big mouth on you, mate.

Careful, Rossett.

Your right hand's probably not up to it.

I didn't have any bets on.

But you did have access to his fluids.

So did a lot of people, including his wife
and Brian Hooking, Benji.

Oh, and...Wayne Styles.
You don't wanna forget him.

Vince, the corner man,
and any number of people

could've had access to Curtis's drink.

Then who had access and motive?

Hey, Da Vinci,
you cracked that code yet?

What does it look like?

Looks like, um...

Don't know what that looks like.
That's my problem.

Most codes are based on numbers
or letters of the alphabet.

That's just squiggly lines.

Yeah, I know.
Leave you to it.

Duncan?
Thanks.

Curtis drank coffee.

Check the report.

Stomach contents -
coffee and a whole lot of pasta.

Well, the pasta I can understand -
carb loading. But the coffee?

We should've spotted that.
That'd get him hyped.

I thought you were supposed
to be hyped before a fight.

No, nice clear head. There's more
science to boxing than you think.

Doesn't look very scientific.

So either the warfarin or the benzo
could've been in his coffee

rather than his water or electrolytes.

Yeah, more likely the benzo.

The warfarin would've had to
have been administered over time.

That's a prescription drug.
Are we checking medicals for links?

I've already got Jen on that, thanks.

And checking out every coffee bar

between that gym
and the Conlon house.

And we're talking to Lara again.

What was your husband's
pre-fight regimen, Mrs Conlon?

Sorry?
-His routine.

Oh...

Um...big breakfast, steak and eggs.

Then a work-out.
Then, in the late afternoon, his pasta.

Then he'd go for a fast walk.

Then I'd drive him to the fight.

Kiss him goodbye.
Steak and eggs, then pasta?

Yeah, plenty of it for his carbs.
He always had it before a fight.

Coffee?
No, course not. Wayne won't let him.

I thought you said the drug
was in his drink bottle.

It's looking less likely.
You sure he didn't drink coffee?

Yeah.
How come we found it in his stomach?

I don't know.
You said you kissed him goodbye.

You didn't smell it on his breath?

No, I didn't.

His walk, when did he take that?

Just before I drove him.
About an hour before?

He ever meet anyone on that walk?
No, it was exercise.

So he didn't meet anyone for coffee?

No, he wasn't allowed coffee. I told you.

Sergeant Ryan.

Look, can I go now? I've gotta meet
Curtis's dad at the funeral home.

OK, great, we'll come up.

I'll get someone to show you out.

Thank you.

Rhys got a result.

It's not a code.
These symbols are shorthand.

Shorthand?

Yeah. Yeah, I didn't spot it straight off
because they're all light strokes.

Now, Pitman's, the one we're most
familiar with, uses thick and thin strokes.

This doesn't. it's Gregg shorthand.
it's American.

It's still phonemic orthography,
but it's based on Gabelsberger's...

Yeah, yeah, it's shorthand.

It's American. I checked, and the bookie
Hooking used to live there for a while.

Yeah, all good,
Einstein, but can you tell us

who these names are
beside all the big bets?

Yeah.
And?

Oh, a few smaller bets here and there.
Just punters playing the odds, I reckon.

But this big one for 10 grand,
you're gonna be interested in her.

Her?

I got your message.
Got my money?

Sorry, love. I didn't make the call.

Hello, Desiree,
come to pick up your winnings?

$10,000 at 25-to-1.

Big plunge.

Must've spooked Hooking.
But he still took the bet anyway, right?

Made sense for him to take it-
the Kid was hot favourite.

Hooking was gonna lose
on the outcome.

And you came along with this crazy bet,

and he thought,
�Dumb chick. Easy pickings.�

I don't know about any of this.

Desiree, that's why we set you up -
so you couldn't deny it.

OK, OK, I placed a bet. So what?

$10,000 - that's a lot of money.

Oh, you usually bet that big?
I don't usually bet.

So why this time?
I needed the money.

I'm sick of that dump I live in.

I wanna get out of there,
maybe get my own place.

But it's hard when you're on your own,
only one income.

Where'd you get the $10,000?

I had a little bit saved up for the deposit.

We can check your bank account,
you know.

OK, I borrowed it.
Who from?

Listen, you placed that bet.

As far as we're concerned,
that means you knew

what was gonna happen
to Curtis Conlon.

That makes you an accessory to murder.

So did you know
what was gonna happen?

No!
So why risk all that money?

'Cause it wasn't mine. It wasn't my idea.

Oh, so you placed the bet
for someone else, then?

Who?

Be aware - if you lie to us now
to protect somebody,

that still makes you an accessory
after the fact.

Alright. I placed the bet
for this guy I'm seeing.

His name, Desiree!
He's married!

Desiree.

You know him.
You already talked to him.

I don't know anything about any bet.

We've already danced
this particular dance, Wayne.

We know that you bet
against your fighter.

Your girlfriend told us everything.

You bet big on Curtis Conlon to lose,

and then you made sure of it
by drugging him.

We're talking murder.

Oh, no, no.

No, no, hang on.

No, you got that wrong.

I didn't need to kill Curtis Conlon.
He knew about the bet.

You're saying the Kid
was gonna throw the fight?

Yes.

I mean, nobody really makes any money
out of all these lead-up bouts,

but it doesn't have to be
that way, of course.

Well, the gym,
it's a bottomless money pit!

I needed the cash.

You know, it's not just for me. it's so
I could train the boy properly, you know.

Right.

Could do with some extra cash,
couldn't you?

Well, one loss wasn't gonna kill him.

Except this time it did.

I just told him I could put him
in touch with someone,

set up a bet against himself.

So he went for it?

Your principles sometimes
go out the window

when you're on the bones of your ass.

And you make sure that's exactly where
your prot�g�s are, don't you?

On the bones.

You found more bets
on Benji Fa'alonga, didn't you?

Hm? Didn't you? Let me tell you
something about those bets.

They were all placed by Curtis
under different names.

Yeah. So he stood to make
a hundred grand himself.

He was in on it?

Yes, he was in on it.

So your motive for me killing Curtis
turns out to be my alibi, doesn't it?

How so?

Well, why would I drug him
if I knew he was gonna throw the fight?

Well, because the Kid backed out,
he changed his mind.

But why? When you've already put up
four grand and stand to win a hundred.

Doesn't it strike you as a
coincidence that his boy was drugged

on the very night that
he agreed to take a dive?

We're sure he placed those bets?
Well, Rhys followed up with Hooking.

Anything under $300, he took by phone.

And the names?
Probably plucked them out of the air.

We're checking. Oh, yeah,
and by the way, all bets are off.

There's no payout until this is sorted.

I wonder if Lara Conlon
knew about the scam.

Yeah. Or Mick Conlon.

Betrayed by his son,
his Olympic hope turned pro.

Yeah, but your own son?

And Vince Rossett and Benji Fa'alonga
both jealous as hell of Conlon's success.

Well, any one of them could've
dropped the benzo in his coffee.

Which he wasn't meant to have,
anyway.

But who had the opportunity
to administer the warfarin

in the days leading up to the fight?

Look, I told you, anyone could've
spiked his fluids at any time.

He was in that gym every day.
And at home too.

Look, today's been difficult enough

without you lot coming down here
and making stupid accusations.

What would you say if we told you your
husband was gonna throw that fight?

I'd say you were wrong.

What if we told you he'd made
an agreement with Wayne Styles

and that Wayne Styles
stood to make 250 grand?

While your husband was up
for a hundred, betting against himself.

I don't believe you.

Why don't you ask your mate, Desiree?
Desiree? What's she got to do with it?

She was Wayne Styles's proxy.
She placed the bet.

She's been seeing him for months.
Or didn't she tell you that either?

Lara?

Oh, hey.

Paying your respects?

My family miss out this week.

Everything I earned I put in that pot
for Curtis's wife and kid.

Still doesn't make me feel any better.

Here, send this to your family.
I don't want your money.

Benji, it's not for you. it's for your kids.

You're giving to the wrong people.
This was not your fault.

Man, you're worth 10 times
any of these pricks. Here.

Thanks, brother.

But you can keep your money.

Bit of shush, thanks, folks. Shush up.

I wanna thank you all for coming
and donating to the cause.

Not even sure how much is there.

At the gym where Curtis trained,
uh...been passing our own hat around.

I bet there's not a cent
of your money in there, Styles! Eh?!

I'll fix you, you little parasite!

Tired and emotional. As...as are we all.

Lara, your loss is our loss.

And boxing's loss.
-Hear, hear.

Look, I know it's not gonna make up
for everything, but, um...it's just a...

Thank you.

Um, I wanna thank everyone for coming.

Curtis is gone,
and nothing's gonna bring him back,

but this'll help us get back on our feet.

Avoid the 10 count, right?
Yeah.

Sorry. Thanks, everyone.

On ya, love.

Hey.

Get off me!

Get off me.

Get out!

Oi, get off! Lara!

Get her off me! Help!
You lied to me!

Alright, alright!

Oh, my hair!

Come on, Lara. Come on.

And you, you two-faced bastard,

you think some poncy cheque's
gonna make up for what you did?!

Why don't you tear the thing up?
Or do you want me to cancel it?!

YOU LIED TO ME!
Hey, she's just upset.

That's all. Just upset. Alright?

Come here. it's alright.

It's OK.

You've gotta be kidding me.
We were best mates!

Look, I don't know about you,

but I don't go around shagging
my best mates' wives.

You seem pretty involved
with Lara Conlon.

Yeah, I felt sorry for her.

She just lost her husband.
She's having a baby.

I've known them both for years.

Intimately?
Not like that, you...

Well, you said you were jealous of him.
Yeah, that's what I said.

In the ring, not out of it!
We'll talk to Lara.

Good! Go ahead and talk to her!
Wonder what she'll have to say.

You know what, this is crap.
I'm outta here!

Sit down!

Look, their marriage was a joke, anyway,
without any help from me.

What do you mean?

Vince?

Look, Curtis was as tough as nails.

He ducked his head and I hit him
right here. Broke both my knuckles.

He didn't even feel it.
Your point being?

Curtis is a great fighter,
don't get me wrong.

But we're all...different, you know.

Look, I felt sorry for Lara
for a long time.

You know, way before Curtis was killed.

She was living a lie with him.

I've kept his secret for years.

A poof?

Adds new meaning to
�climbing into the ring�, I suppose.

Vince Rossett says that he was
the only one who knew.

Well, how did he find out?
Soap in the showers?

He says Conlon confided in him
not long after Lara got pregnant.

But he'd always suspected it.

Mates.

So that's why Rossett
didn't use it against him?

According to him, yes, Sarge.

He liked him. Conlon had
always seen him right.

Doesn't mean he wouldn't see
a chance for a little blackmail.

Rossett was in a position to deal
Conlon's career a real body blow.

And what, mateship was
the only thing stopping him?

Maybe it didn't stop him telling Lara.

Yeah, who's about to drop.
She'd be pretty cut, too, wouldn't she?

So would his dad.
Oh, yeah.

Mick Conlon's old-school.
Straight as a die.

Huh, his son a shirt-lifter - he'd be the
laughing stock of the boxing fraternity.

It wouldn't have done Wayne Styles's
reputation much good either.

Manager/promoter.

Conlon's sexuality certainly opens up
new motive for all your suspects.

You waiting for a written invitation,
Sergeant?

Get your team briefed
and take a good look at them.

Gay?!
Who told you that?

Crap!

He was Aussie hardwood, my boy.

Fast hands, light on his feet. Could take
anything you could throw at him.

Gay?
According to Vince Rossett.

No.
You saying he's lying?

No, I'm...

No, I'm not. I just...

Vince was jealous of Curtis,
but they were close, like brothers.

Like brothers? Or closer?

Not like that...

I just can't believe he would've told you.

So you did know he was gay?

They were gonna have a kid,
for God's sake.

Listen, Curtis was
a decent, honourable young man.

A decent, honourable young man

who, according to our information,
was gonna take a dive.

He placed a big bet against himself.

He was out to make
some fast money, Mr Conlon.

Styles puts them on a drip.

He bleeds them
until he decides to feed 'em.

I paid him what I could afford to pay him.
Would've made good money eventually.

Still encouraged him to take
that dive, though, didn't you?

But I owe money!
To some pretty heavy people.

What if word got out that
your next big thing was gay?

That'd put a dent in
your earning prospects, wouldn't it?

No!
I'm a fight promoter, mate.

I would've shipped in some sheilas.
Give him a run with them.

�Poofs versus Amazons.�

That's money in the bank.

It's a macho world, boxing,
isn't it?

Testosterone city. Pretty homophobic.

Ls that really why you're angry
with your son, Mr Conlon?

Why you hadn't spoken to him
for so long?

I was angry with him for selling out.

All this homo stuff, guys,
come on, give me a break, will ya?

So why was he killed?
I don't know!

Ask Styles, ask any of those bastards!

Well, we're asking you.

I've known he was gay for ages.

We had a deal.

A deal?

I played his wife, his lover,
hung off his arm, he gave me a kid.

And that's all?
Having a baby's important to me.

But no. More too.

He was going places.

We were gonna live the life, you know.
But that didn't happen.

Well, maybe that's why he agreed
to throw the fight, then,

to move things along
in the lifestyle department.

And you were happy in
a sham relationship with a gay man?

He was kind to me.

I didn't kill him.

Did you meet him to go on his walk
an hour before the fight?

No, I didn't.

Spike his coffee to slow him down?

His coffee?
He drank coffee.

No, I didn't do that.
He'd had a coffee, had he?

What's so bad about that?
It lies to 'em.

Makes them think they've got
more in 'em than they have.

I told 'em.

Them?

All my fighters.

How are we going with the coffee?

Uniforms turned up three witnesses
who saw Curtis take his pre-fight walk,

but nowhere near a coffee shop.

Well, he drank coffee somewhere.

Jennifer, anything on chasing up
the gay connections?

No, the others are still working that,
but I do have some other leads.

On the medical front, I finally heard back
from the prescribed drugs inquiries.

And?

And Mick Conlon's sister says
that he had a pulmonary embolism

just over a year ago,
and was prescribed warfarin.

But just before you go over there...

I did have uniforms flash around
photographs of persons of interest

all around those cafes.

I asked you to do that.

Yeah, you also asked me to follow up
medicals, and check out all the gay bars.

I couldn't do three things at once.

So I thought it best
to just get the uniforms.

Fair enough.

And...we got a hit on one of the photos.

Good work.

He tried to kill me! He tried to kill me!

He hit me! He tried to kill me!

I pushed him! I think he's dead!

Take it easy. Calm down, OK?

Can I have an ambulance, please?

To number 13 Reid Street, Burwood!

There's an injured man
in a critical condition.

Hold in there, Mick.
Hold on. Hold on, Mick.

Hold on. Hold on.

Th-the c-c...
the c-c-c-coffee...

I know. You said that you told 'them'.

It wasn't your fighters that you told,
was it, Mick? It was somebody else.

Who was it that you told, Mick?
I just need you to say their name.

I think I know who it is.

Just say their name.

He's dead.

It was self-defence.
I tried to help him, then I heard your car.

Tell us what happened.

Well, he just showed up,

ranting and raving about
how Curtis had betrayed him.

By being gay?
Not just that.

About turning pro,
taking a dive, everything.

How'd you get the bruise?
He just...

He came at me and he grabbed
one of Curtis's trophies and he hit me.

And I went down,
and he was still screaming at me.

And he came at me again when I got up

and I pushed him
and he went through the glass.

And you tried to help him?

Yes, I knelt down
and I tried to stop the bleeding,

but his blood was going everywhere,
so I came out to get you.

You said you came running out
because you heard our car.

Yeah, to get you to help.
You didn't kneel down to help him.

You knelt down to skewer him
with a piece of glass

to make sure he was dead.

When you thought he was, it was safe
to come running out and get us to go in.

No!
Hit yourself with the trophy first.

To make it look good.
No, he hit me!

One big swing?
Yes!

No. Because if Mick Conlon had hit you,
the bruise would be on the other side.

Mick Conlon was a southpaw!

He was left-handed.

Like his son.

He didn't hit you.

He didn't confront you
about his son's sexuality.

He confronted you
about the coffee, didn't he?

No.
Mick put it together.

So did we.

Yeah, he said, �l told them
that coffee was bad for a fighter.�

'Them' - he meant
you and Curtis, didn't he?

And the only possible time
that Curtis could've had a coffee

was in the car when you were
driving him to the fight!

Coffee you'd bought!
The coffee you put the drugs in!

We have an ID from
the coffee shop, Mrs Conlon!

And we know that you regularly buy
two takeaway coffees.

On fight nights, a ritual.

A ritual?! It was a joke!

He only went along with it
the last time out of habit!

He'd already killed us by then!

He'd already told me everything
a few nights before.

It's all lies, everything!
Wayne wants me to throw a fight!

You told me!
You can be happy! And I can be myself!

Walk away from the fight game
and be myself!

Be himself, and humiliate me
and his baby!

Everybody laughing!
Everybody pitying me!

So you killed him
before he could do that?

To me! To the baby!

I have a baby to protect!

I don't know. Boxing's gone to the dogs.

Which is where I'm going from now on.

Sergeant, good result today.
Nice and clean.

Full confession. Yes, teamwork.

Another one bites the dust.

Just going to the pub to have a beer
with the guys to celebrate.

Good. Good idea.

Have one for me.
You're not coming?

No. Paperwork, you know.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Don't worry about it.

Another time?

Yeah, sure.