Original subtitles

Father Swift.

I just wanted to thank you for the laptops.

The kids are going to be over the moon.

It's your job to keep them off social media, Renee.

Of course.

- Promise me? - Yeah.

My favourite couple. How are we today?

It's a pleasure to see you both.

- Thank you. - Those are front row seats.

Take care.

My dad's teaching me how to ride.

- Dirt bike? - Yeah.

We'll fuck up school tomorrow, I'll teach you.

It's been great at school.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Day one of term he’s got us a laptop for each classroom.

That’s... great...

It’s another bloody miracle, that’s what it is.

I’m bored.

Yeah, he'll be ready soon.

Go!

- Shit. - Get down!

Fuck.

Help me! Help me!

Max. Yeah, nearly there.

Though “there” is a long bloody way from anywhere.

Have you got your interviews set up?

No, just one with the cop. I’ll wing the rest.

Well, the guy was a monster,

the locals might be a bit toey.

Thanks, mum.

I have done this before, you know?

What’s with the dinky car?

Mate. You're dropping out...

I said the hire car’s a piece of shit!

All the office would cough... for...

Max?

Max, you there?

Great.

Great.

Hello?

Constable Haus-Jones?

Second hand is five bucks.

Bookshop in a country town.

It's gutsy.

Buy that and you’re the first sale I’ve had this week.

At least people like coffee.

And I like a long black.

Please.

This Katherine Bond’s got good taste.

Reading this at school made me want to be a journalist.

And are you one?

As it happens, yeah.

Why are you here?

You... the people.

How you’re doing twelve months on.

Trauma porn.

Nice.

So, you said business is slow?

Riversend was just about fucked a year ago,

then journos made it worse.

Well, the event was big news.

But my story’s about the town now,

not the shooting

and not Father Swift’s child abuse.

He wasn’t a paedophile, so you’re off to a good start.

- My understanding is the abu... - Actually, you know what?

That book’s not for sale.

Okay.

Thanks.

Hello?

Mands.

Constable Haus-Jones!

Mr. Scarsden?

So, I’m here with Constable Robert Haus-Jones

of the Riversend Police.

So, how’s life these days?

Constable?

Well, you know, things were tough enough in this town

before someone we trusted ripped a hole right through it.

Tough how?

Droughts, floods, storms, recession.

The usual.

Yeah, that sounds pretty full-on.

But what about downtime?

Community events, sport?

We used to run the kids’ basketball

and footy teams together, Byron and me.

Turns out he was abusing kids

and I was the idiot who missed it.

Well, you did everything you could, mate.

In fact, you've been called the...

Hero of Riversend.

Was there any talk of commendations, promotions?

No. I was just doing my job.

What you faced was hardly all in a day’s work.

Don’t you think courage like that deserves some recognition?

Like I said, I was just doing my job.

I've actually got a shit ton of paperwork

to get through.

Talk to you later? Or see you around?

- Sure. - Yeah.

- Thanks for your time. - No worries.

What do you want?

I... Just visiting town.

Sightseeing dead people?

Well, actually, I'm interested in how Riversend’s doing now.

Did you know any of them?

One on the end...

He’s my dad.

You must be Jamie?

I’m so sorry for your loss.

Can’t imagine getting my head around something like that.

Worse for Allen.

Priest shot his old man too,

and he ended up with brains all over him.

But the paedo's dead, so that’s one thing.

See you.

Wait.

Shit.

And grab about, I don't know, eight of them.

Thank you.

Seriously, Max, the story’s a dud.

Mate, it's just a puff piece

about an outback town.

Should be a bloody doddle.

Yeah, exactly.

So why I am the one doing it?

You’ve had a tough time lately.

This is a chance to take the foot off the accelerator,

and just coast a little.

Coast?

Well, fuck you very much.

Marty, you haven’t turned up a story in months.

Now, upstairs is not gonna carry you forever.

This is an easy gig, so please just do it.

Thanks.

Landers...

As in Craig Landers?

Yeah.

That’s $18.

Miss Landers, I'm Martin Scarsden

from the Sydney Morning Herald.

Can I ask you a few questions?

No.

This is a small story.

I don't want to intrude.

Then don't.

Thanks.

Harley.

Right. What have we got?

Excuse me?

Dangerous place.

Yeah, especially at rush hour.

You’re writing about Byron Swift?

Riversend a year on.

How are you recovering.

- Do you live here Mr...? - Harley Reagan.

Family’s been around here about 150 years.

We’ve recovered from flood, fire, drought.

But what that priest did...

I guess you’ll be writing we’ve achieved closure soon.

Did you know Father Swift?

You couldn’t miss him.

Yeah, I’ll say this for the good Father,

he was very charming and charismatic.

Wrapped people round his finger.

Perfect groomer.

So you weren’t surprised by the child abuse rumours?

No.

Sadly, I was not.

Not that I ever had any direct evidence.

But... Well, the police interviewed him on Saturday.

Sunday, he comes out like an avenging angel.

Yeah. Good luck, man.

Yeah, thanks.

Turn the lights and AC off if you go out.

Power bills are killing us.

Do you have Wi-Fi?

You can try your luck.

Our landline worked, last time I checked.

Thanks.

Enjoy your stay.

Gerry Torlini...

Victim three, Alf Newkirk.

43, shot in his truck beside his...

15-year-old son, Allen, who was uninjured.

Yeah, uninjured. Right.

"A year on from the Church Massacre..."

"...the shadow of Byron Swift

still looms over these dry and desolate streets."

You barely slept.

I’m fine.

Go, open the shop.

How's the pain?

None to speak of.

I could do the Macarena.

Here, let me.

For God sakes, Mand.

Go do something useful!

Oi, Craig!

Wait! Oi!

A fish is gonna choke on that!

Have to rain first.

Oi, Craig!

It’s not that hard.

You really need to get a fucking life, sweetheart!

And you stop using the street like your personal rubbish bin!

- Craig, Craig, love... - Need a ref?

Though the weight classes seem a bit uneven, mate.

Or I could just...

There you go.

Neighbourly love.

Environmental care all round.

Now, can one of you please point me towards St. James?

Right.

...old things have passed away.

Behold, all things have become new.

Old things have passed away.

Behold...

all things have become new.

All things have become new.

Hello. Anyone home?

Just a sec.

Good day.

Sorry to intrude, I just...

Thought I'd offer my services.

See if I could help out in any way.

Shopping, cleaning...

Just a chat?

Christ, I’m not that desperate.

Okay.

What about...

- I’m fine. - No, he’s right.

You look like shit.

Thanks, Mum.

Go and have a sleep, Mands.

His dulcet tones can keep me company for a bit.

But I don’t want to hear about your God.

Promise?

Cross my heart.

And hope to die?

No, just hope.

Go.

Do you mind?

Where are you up to?

Anywhere. I’ve read it 50 times.

Well, I guess we better start at the beginning then.

An optimist.

Carpenter as well as priest?

Yeah, Jesus was the carpenter.

I’m just the odd jobs kinda guy.

...Just...

Thanks.

We’re not Catholics.

We’re not anything.

Not anything is fine with me.

Kitchen open?

Our extensive a la carte.

- Beer? - Yeah, thanks.

Any chance you got Wi-Fi?

Dribs and drabs of it.

- You the journo? - Yeah.

But just here for a drink.

This is the only place in town.

Yeah, noticed the pub had closed.

Couple who ran it didn’t feel comfortable here any more.

Avoid the seafood.

Anything from the ocean is older than I am.

Singapore noodles. Thanks, Errol!

On it, Mandalay.

Thought you’d enjoy a journalist suffering food poisoning.

I would.

But imagine the shit you’d write about Riversend then.

- Is this yours? - Yeah.

Little pudding.

Given all his dad contributed was a sperm cell,

I do regard Liam as all my own work.

Sorry about earlier.

Would you want a drink with your noodles?

So, what’s with “Mandalay”?

Curse of my romantic mother.

Katherine of the good books

also liked the sound of exotic places.

I’ve actually been to Mandalay.

It’s little different than Riversend.

I just count myself lucky

I didn’t end up Timbuktu.

The Father Swift thing...

You lot really did write a bunch of bullshit about him.

Well, his actions that day are hardly up for debate.

No, of course.

They were horrific.

It's just...

He was here for over two years,

he did a lot of great work,

great pastoral care,

for Catholics, for anyone.

My mum, lifelong atheist, loved him.

And then, completely out of the blue

there’s an allegation of sexual abuse and...

Predator priest goes apeshit.

Doesn’t that seem weird?

Seems more or less how these things typically go down.

Which is more or less the line all the journos took.

Basically, just published the police press release.

Unfortunately, that does happen a lot.

If only there was a proper journo in town,

who could dig around, see if there was anything

behind why Byron did what he did.

Look, my brief’s a colour story.

It's a reflection on the town,

just weekend supplement stuff.

I looked you up.

Martin Scarsden, investigative journalist supreme.

Interviewed drug lords, people smugglers,

won awards,

practically brought down some corrupt Asian government.

Have fun with your puff piece.

Fucking nice.

It's on now.

Good day, Jamie.

Allen.

- I'm... - Yeah, I know who you are.

Not worried about being sprung?

What, by scary Constable Robbie?

So, what’re you up to these days, Allen?

You ask questions, you gotta pay.

Bloody Gen Z.

More to life than money, you know?

I don't make the rules, mate.

All right, how about this?

If I hit that bottle, you answer my questions.

If I miss, you get these.

Knock yourself out, mate.

- Cricketer? - No.

Just like you, grew up in a town where there wasn’t much to do

but chuck rocks.

So, Allen, what do you do these days?

School? TAFE?

Work me old man’s farm with mum.

Seems like things have changed a bit over the last year.

Place is different.

Yeah?

Different how?

Weird shit going down in the scrublands.

Yeah?

What kind of weird shit?

Aliens get high out there!

You guys play sport, footy?

Did you guys use to train with Father Swift?

Reckon he really was abusing kids?

Sure.

Used to hang around kids all the time.

Didn’t he, Al?

- Yeah. - Got ‘em alone at night,

talked to ‘em like he was their friend.

Yeah.

Yeah, kinda like you, mate.

You're a fucking paedo, too!

Fuck! Quick, Jamie, get away from the fucking paedo!

Look at these fucking faggots.

Jesus fucking Christ!

You better hide, mate. Fuck me. Jesus Christ.

Still sitting there, get out of here.

I’ve asked you not to ride Allen’s bike without a helmet.

He’s only got one.

What you been up to?

Gonna grab an ice cream.

No, we're gonna have dinner soon.

God.

Breastfeeding one day, wilfully deaf, the next.

Still not sleeping well?

In my dreams.

I had dinner at the Club earlier.

Martin Scarsden was there.

Did he try to talk to you again?

I actually went there to talk to him.

Okay. Why?

To convince him to prove what I can’t.

Right.

We... We agreed that leaving the past in the past

was the safest thing to do.

Don’t you want to know why?

I think...

I think we should just move on.

Well, I can't.

Jamie.

Chosen something?

Yup.

Sounds simple.

Follow Jesus.

Live as he lived,

do as he did.

But the problem is, all that Jesus stuff,

us mere mortals sometimes...

following that can be pretty hard.

Right?

In fact, sometimes, it can be bloody hard.

Oops.

Pardon me, I think he probably heard that.

You see, the Bible says,

those with ears to hear

should listen and understand.

But why?

I know what you're thinking.

Why? Why should we listen?

Nobody's listening to us.

The government?

Deaf as posts, aren't they?

People in the big cities?

They're not listening.

They don't care about fires,

floods, droughts.

Falling stock prices,

rising feed prices.

You labour and you struggle,

and no one listens to your pleas,

or your fears.

No one listens

to your individual pain.

Right?

He does.

He listens.

Look, I know how hard it is to follow Jesus

when your family’s struggling.

Yeah. When climate change is turning life on this land

into an absolute mug’s game.

But listen to this,

the Lord said,

“I have plans for you,

plans for welfare."

"Your welfare."

"Not for evil."

"To give you a future and a hope.”

Hear that?

"Future and hope."

Believe me....

He's listening.

He's always listening.

If you’ve ever doubted the existence of evil,

just take a whiff of that in the cheap seats.

Any other nuggets of spiritual wisdom

you’d like to share with us today, Craig?

Let us pray.

Max Fuller.

I have huffed and puffed

and blown a bullshit story out of my ass.

I’ll file once I get somewhere with decent reception.

Leaving already? But you had two days scheduled.

Sadly, I’ve exhausted the pleasures

of Riversend in one.

Look! It's that reporter asshole.

Wanna play chicken?

Shit.

- Comms, RE 51. - Allen? Jamie?

West on the Bellington Road,

two-up motorcycle,

multiple injuries, urgent ambo assist...

Jamie?

Allen? Allen?

- Quick! We gotta do CPR. - Wait.

What are you doing, man?

- He’s not breathing! - He has swallowed his tongue.

Allen?

No.

Scarsden, I’m gonna need a statement.

I'm heading back to Sydney.

We can do it over a beer.

- On the house. - Thanks, Errol.

Of course. Yeah. Okay.

Spoke to Fran.

Jamie’s broken his arm, cracked ribs, internal bruising,

concussion, but...

he's gonna be okay, thank God.

Poor Allen.

- His poor mum... - Yeah.

I mean, there'd be two grieving mothers

if Martin hadn’t been there.

I’m so glad you were.

I better get back.

So how did you know what to do?

The tongue thing?

Hostile environment training.

I did it before I went to West Papua.

Byron was also calm under pressure.

I’m a cop and he was a priest, but he made me feel safe.

Which is embarrassing.

I can’t get a clear picture of the guy.

For every person who says he was a paedophile,

someone else reckons he was Mother Teresa.

Yeah, we're still trying to get

our heads around that one, I guess.

You know?

I just keep seeing when he...

When he what?

I wasn’t even rostered on.

I only went to the station to finish up some paperwork

before going to Mass.

Then I heard what I thought was a car backfiring,

kids with crackers or something...

Then a scream.

Another shot.

More screams.

And by the time I came out on to the street...

There had been two more shots.

Craig Landers was running down the hill

from the church towards me.

He looked terrified.

He said “Help me. Help me”.

Then bang...

Fifth shot, back of the neck.

Went down on his face.

The screaming stopped after that.

This creepy silence.

Then I saw Byron.

He was just sitting on the church steps,

holding his weapon.

There wasn't any cover, so I sprinted up to the church,

approached five metres or so.

Put the gun down, Byron.

What did he do?

He... He just said...

Hello, Robbie.

I wondered when you’d get here.

So, I asked him to drop his weapon again.

And again.

Even said "Please."

But he just smiled. Not mean, just kinda... sad?

Then he raised his weapon,

aimed it,

forced me to fire on him.

He made me.

But I held his hand, watched him die.

- Did he say anything? - No.

Not really. I mean, he wasn't making much sense.

Kinda mumbling.

- He asked me to talk to Harley. - Harley Reagan?

That older bloke who drives the Range Rover.

Yeah, that's him.

Owns thousands of hectares

of nothing much in the scrublands.

And did you talk to him?

I mean, Reagan was interviewed, but...

nothing came of it.

I mean, it wasn’t really a lead,

Byron was dying, not making much sense.

Did you know he kept his gun in the church?

He kept both his weapons in a locked wardrobe

in the sacristy.

He lived in shared quarters in Bellington,

and the Bishop didn’t approve of him keeping them there.

And all the victims were out front?

Gerry Torlini and Hugh Grosvenor

were at the front.

Tom Newkirk was under the tree, Alf Newkirk in his ute,

and Craig Landers...

halfway down the street.

Were they friends?

Did they know each other?

Alf Newkirk, Allen’s dad,

and Tom were brothers.

And Tom and Craig Landers were mates of sorts.

But Gerry Torlini and Hugh Grosvenor,

they were from Bellington.

They had no connection at all, really.

So, after being outed as a paedophile,

Swift went on a random shooting spree

before suiciding by cop?

Did police have any other theories?

I... I don't know.

I wasn't part of the investigation.

Sergeant Piccini from Bellington handled that.

Apparently, there were a couple of phone calls

to and from the church

a few minutes before the shooting.

Who did he talk to?

I wasn't part of the murder investigation either.

I mean, you know? For obvious reasons.

Well, thanks, mate.

Enjoy your trip back to Sydney.

Go Swans.

Byron Swift...

Lot of people talk shit.

They forget all the good things he did.

Good things? Like what?

We're closed. Sorry.

Dad? What do you want?

This is, for Liam.

Been in the family for three generations.

It breaks my heart to see you alone.

Yeah.

What miracle are you working on now?

Well, I hope you don't mind, Kath,

but I saw this beauty

at the Bellington charity shop,

and I thought a wine connoisseur like yourself

will truly appreciate such a piece.

- Well, we better crack one then. - Yeah.

Mands?

Not that horse piss,

the good one.

No point cellaring it is?

For the boss.

You’re a good man, Byron.

To long life and happiness.

Long life. Happiness.

Hotel California, that’s us.

- You can check out... - But you can never leave.

- Max Fuller. - It's me.

So, where’s my coloured puff?

I’m still in Riversend.

I want to kick the tires,

see if there’s a bigger story here.

What bigger story?

I don't know yet.

I think it might be worth staying in town

another couple of days to find out.

All right. I still need it for the weekend.

Yeah, on it.

Gerry Torlini...

Tom Newkirk...

Alf Newkirk...

Hugh Grosvenor...

Craig Landers.

Good shot, Father Swift.

What are you going to write now?

Pardon?

We’re pulling ourselves together, aren’t we?

Recovering?

Well, I’ve just lost my son!

Mrs. Newkirk.

Look, I’m so sorry about Allen.

You and Byron fucking Swift.

Both a curse on this town.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil, for you are with me.

Surely goodness

and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of Lord forever.

And ever.

Amen.