Original subtitles

We're gathered here today

because this is what Charlie wanted.

You've gotta be related to Charlie, don't ya?

Jack, you are depressed.

- What's that? - It's a referral to someone

who might be able to help you with your state of mind.

Am I wasting my entire life on you?

I'm probably a bit old to be having a kid now at my age,

- don't you think? - I've lost all of our money.

I must go back to the track.

Cam? We're back in it.

Norm's been dead for 18 months now.

And this is Norm's memorial stool, Stan.

- You are bad for business! - Find someone

to take that stool, or I'll get Cherry Blossom to do it for ya!

"Although I miss you all very much,

I have been made to feel so welcome here

that this almost feels like home."

Lakshmi. She's dead.

It was not an accident.

We've got a break-in. In the mainframe room.

A Chinese student by the name of Eddie Chin.

He was studying at a place

called the Meritus Institute of Higher Learning.

Now, I found him dead down a mine shaft in Ballarat.

He had a friend called Lakshmi Agarwal,

who may or may not have suicided round about the same time.

So, do you think you could look into this college for me?

Getting into their internal site is another issue.

For why? I don't know. They are a school.

Do you know what Lakshmi's screaming?

"My head is on fire."

"My head is on fire."

Come to this address.

There is someone you should meet.

Javed, they're onto you!

Yep, okay.

Yes, it's me.

I'm just on my way into the meeting now.

I want you to tell me why Eddie Chin

and Lakshmi Agarwal are dead.

What did you do? I demand to know!

Possible terror situation. Hostage taken.

Police! Put your hands in the air.

They killed them. They're going to kill me!

- Put the knife down slowly. - Please listen!

Put the knife down!

- They killed them. - Weapon clear.

Don't shoot. Don't shoot!

Please!

I have an appointment with Dr. Finch.

Please, take a seat.

Eddie Chin?

Descended from a long line of Chins, are you?

Yes, all the way back to the Ming Dynasty.

I'm not sure if you're aware of my standard consultation fee,

but this is a rather expensive prank.

My real name's Jack.

Rory.

I assumed you were a bloke.

I assumed you were Chinese.

Yeah.

I'm actually trying to track Eddie Chin's movements

leading up to the point that he was killed.

- Are you a cop? - No, no. I'm a lawyer.

And Eddie did some courier work for me.

Well, I've never had a patient by that name,

and I wouldn't divulge anything if I did.

Your name and an appointment time was found

in Eddie's online student diary from three years ago.

I'm afraid that I can't speak to patients without a GP referral.

I have one of those.

This is for a different psychiatrist.

- Does it matter? - Look, I have

a very full schedule today, Jack.

- I'm sorry. - You don't happen

to know a Lakshmi Agarwal, do you?

She was also killed three years ago.

She was hit by a bus, not long before Eddie

was then shot point-blank and thrown down a mine shaft.

Yeah, I read about that. That was him?

Yeah. They studied together.

They might have been boyfriend and girlfriend.

You weren't treating Lakshmi, were you?

- Is that why your name... - We've covered this.

I'm not at liberty to tell you.

Can I just show you one thing?

Eddie left this, only accessible by code.

I've had this translated.

She's saying, "My head is burning.

It's on fire."

And then, as you can see, she's gone.

- I forgot my hat. - And Strawberry Girl

has been backed off the map.

3-1...

Ah! Smell that.

Mothballs, Old Spice, and the waft of the sewage farm.

Midweek races at Werribee.

- Where else would you rather be? - Well...

Ah, rhetorical, Jack, rhetorical.

Well, make some room in your wallets, boys.

When Strawberry Girl comes home,

we're gonna have ourselves a serious payday.

But it says here that's Dougie Smalls' horse.

Yeah, yeah, but Len Faraday trained it.

He left her to Dougie after he carked it.

Yeah, even Dougie, with his anti-Midas touch,

he can't turn Strawberry Girl to shit.

Ah, the racing gods

are smiling on us today, boys.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, please take note.

We've got a shock here.

Strawberry Girl is a late scratching.

Stewards will be holding an inquiry

into certain irregularities.

Pretty fickle, them racing gods.

I'm not sure what's happened there.

Oh, that sewage farm's really starting to waft in.

The stewards panel upholds a breach of AR17B...

The administering of prohibited anabolic agents,

corticosteroids, and neuromuscular stimulants

by registered trainer, Douglas Smalls.

Why would I do it, Cyn?

She's the only favorite I've ever had.

Where's the stewards' room?!

Sorry about that, mate. Harry!

You sure this is a good idea, Harry?

Stewards' room!

Sorry about that. Harry!

I might just wait out here, I think.

- Okay. Harry! - This is a travesty, this is.

- Harry. - In all my years of racing...

This is a private hearing.

What sort of kangaroo court are you running here, Cyn?

This is Dougie we're talking about.

A trainer with a record like Dougie can't be cheating.

He's never even had a Group 1.

I've never had a Group 2.

He's barely had a Group 3.

They need to invent a new group for Dougie.

Let's face it, Cyn.

Strawberry Girl is the only horse

he's had that's even worth doping,

and yet, here you are, meting out vindictive justice

on one of the most inept horse trainers this state's ever seen.

Appreciate you sticking up for me, Harry.

And I mean every word of it, Dougie.

Get him out of here, Cam, or I'll have him barred.

Trust me, Cyn. Why else would I have my hard-earned on it?

Keep self-interest out of this, Harry.

If you want to keep self-interest out of it,

you might as well shut down bloody racing!

Go well?

This burns.

Burns deep.

That's the second anonymous tip-off to the stewards.

No, no.

Washed-up has-beens, the lot of 'em.

Well, no. What about this Bill Raynor?

Well, where's he from?

Well, he's been at the Cornish Arms 22 years.

The Cornish Arms? Oh, give us a break.

I believe they've hung a dreamcatcher

behind the bar there.

Hey, but I like the look of this bloke.

The one from the Pig & Wheelbarrow.

No way, no. He's a Pom.

No Poms. All they ever do is whinge.

One thing I cannot abide is a flamin' whinger.

Eric, that stool has to start paying its way.

Cherry and I are trying to run a business here.

We can't just plonk any toss pot

- on Norm's stool. - No!

There's a delicate ecosystem at work, Stan.

If you introduce the wrong species,

then you upset the entire natural order.

Jack, you gotta help me out here.

I mean, God knows I love her, but Cherry Blossom

she's got a bit of a violent side.

- I'll see what I can do, mate. - Thank you.

- Yeah? - Transferring a call

- for you. - Great. Thanks.

Hi, Fiona. Thanks for getting back to me.

I was calling about a patient of mine.

A former patient.

Agarwal. A-G-A-R-W-A-L.

Her first name is Lakshmi.

Uh-huh.

This is it, mate.

This is not right.

Are you quite sure this is it?

Yeah, that's it.

Okay. Thank you.

Righto.

"So much has happened

since my last letter home to you.

So many wonderful adventures have beset me

that I scarce know where to begin.

The college is every bit as wonderful

as the brochures promised.

And I have learned so much in my time here."

Mr. Agarwal? Anoushka Khurana.

They are Lakshmi's words, in her letter to us.

Please. Please come.

- What... What is going on here? - I understand.

- Please come. - No, but how is that possible?

It's okay. Please come.

They are her exact words to me in her letter to us.

Her last letter.

You see the date on the death certificate?

And the postmark on the last letter she sent us?

- Ah. - Ah.

The certificate is dated before the letter.

Now you tell me... How can that be?

Mr. Agarwal, on behalf of Meritus,

I take full responsibility.

If it is of any comfort, the H.R. executive

who sent you this letter is no longer with the organization.

I'm deeply sorry for the pain you have suffered

as a result of administrative failings

by former staff members.

Three years, Mrs. Khurana.

Three years, and still even now

we cannot put our Lakshmi to rest.

Are you saying you have never received

your daughter's remains?

No!

We have made countless requests to your office.

E-mails. Written letters.

International calls.

This has taken all my family has to save just for the airfare

so that I can attend to this matter personally.

I can only imagine the suffering

this has caused you, Mr. Agarwal.

I will personally liaise with the coroner's office

and get to the bottom of this.

This is where I'm staying.

I will be in touch very soon, Mr. Agarwal.

You have my word.

Yeah, I see, Mrs. Perlman,

but I'm really sure...

...that your neighbor's dog doesn't mean anything by it.

- Stan, I'm working here, mate. - Oh, yeah. Sorry.

Serious run on dunny rolls, Jack.

I won't go into details.

Oh, except to say I would give the gents a bit of a wide berth.

Just a few teething problems with the change of cuisine.

- Kind of on the phone. - Yeah.

I think it's the kung pao chicken.

Yeah, I'm listening, Mrs. Perlman.

I can't personally say that I've ever heard

of a racist dog before.

No, not even a German shepherd.

We could go down the...

I'm gonna call you back. Des.

How are you, young fella?

- It's been a long time, son. - Good to see ya.

Good to see you, too.

Yes, thanks, mate. Yeah, we'll let you know, okay?

Yeah. Good on ya.

You're a hard man to track down, Des.

Thank God for the Past Players Association.

Yeah, I had to move up to the old raisin ranch

about a year ago.

Uh, some, uh, plumbing problems downstairs.

Ah. All that to look forward to.

Oh, well, the good news about retirement villages

is the women outnumber the men two to one, apparently.

Why do you think I moved there, boy?

Them's my kind of odds.

Anyway, Jack, what's this all about, son?

So? So, what do you think?

- I mean, I like him. - Well, yeah.

He knows his footy,

- and he knows his nags. - Yeah.

And I liked his position on the queen.

I'm not sure that he's middle-stool material, though.

- What? - "Deaf in right ear."

I mean, I don't want to be repeating myself all the time.

You've been repeating yourself for 40 years, Eric.

I mean, just... Just switch stools with him.

What are you talking about, Stan?

I can't go in the middle.

I'm a wing man.

I need the open spaces.

No, this is not gonna work.

Cherry's gonna kill me.

Wilbur, you remember Des Connors.

- How are ya, mate? - Yeah.

- How are ya? - 53 games for the Roys.

Just a player.

And Eric, of course.

Yes, a man who knows his football.

Des! How are you, mate?

Lovely to see you again. So, pull up a pew.

- Sit yourself down. - Don't mind if I do. Thanks.

You might be able to lend us a hand here, mate.

Wilbur and me, we've been debating.

Look, who did we beat in the final round in '57

to avoid the wooden spoon?

Oh, gee.

Yes, it was Geelong by four goals

at the old Brunswick Street Oval.

Well played, Jack. Well played, mate.

Geelong. Told you.

- He thought it was Richmond. - I thought it was Richmond.

- No, no, no, no. - How are you so sure?

Rory.

I checked with the coroner's office.

There was no autopsy.

It's against the family's religion.

So Lakshmi Agarwal was Muslim?

According to the death certificate.

They also said that the body was released to a funeral director

for embalming before being shipped back home to India.

It was signed off by her mother.

I'm sending you through the paperwork now.

Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dr. Finch.

You're welcome, Mr. Chin.

Don't you know anything?

Lakshmi's a Hindu goddess of prosperity, health, purity.

It's nice to know that my phone conversations

are private, Wilbur.

Jack, no Indian Muslim's

ever gonna name their daughter Lakshmi.

- You sure about that? - Yeah.

I spent years in the Far East when I was in the Merchant Navy.

India? I've never been there meself.

Not a fan of the curry.

Dr. Greaves' office. Yvonne speaking.

This is Dr. Finch here.

Uh, I have a referral from Dr. Greaves.

I was wondering if you could send over

his patient file, please.

Jack Irish.

Did you know my daughter Lakshmi?

- Lakshmi Agarwal? - No. Sorry, mate.

Excuse me. Did you know my daughter Lakshmi Agarwal?

No.

Did you know my daughter Lakshmi Agarwal?

- No. Sorry. - No?

Excuse me, sir. Did you know my daughter Lakshmi Agarwal?

- She was your daughter? - I'm her father.

Did you know my daughter Lakshmi?

I never actually met her, but...

Sir, can you please tell me where this place is here?

This is what we dreamed of for our daughter's education.

Everything was so different in the brochure.

You know, Lakshmi, she just wanted to make us proud,

to change her destiny.

Such a bright girl, Mr. Irish.

She must have been so ashamed.

You never received her body?

Her remains?

No.

That's why I'm here, Mr. Irish.

Call me Jack, please.

Three years of bureaucracy, Jack.

Of lies.

I have to bring Lakshmi home to put her ashes in the river

so that our Ganga can take her to the next life.

But, Ajeet, didn't your wife

already come out here to do that?

What... What are you saying?

My wife, Bhavna?

On the coroner's certificate.

Um...

She signed the authority to the funeral director

for embalming prior to shipment.

My wife has never left our village, let alone India.

And why would she sign off on the body being shipped

when it's Hindu custom to cremate our dead

as soon as possible?

Ollie, get back!

What's happening, Mum?

It's okay.

We're okay.

I did warn you

about going on the stewards panel, Cyn.

Racing people have a tendency to get their noses out of joint.

They shot at me and my kids, Harry.

No, not all your kids. Marie wasn't here.

They weren't actually shooting at you, Cyn.

Look at the bullet hole.

Yeah, Cam's right.

These are 3-meter ceilings.

Whoever did that aimed at the cornice.

- It's good shooting, though. - Yeah.

Well, I would have preferred an angry e-mail.

Nasty business.

Still, you gotta love racing, Cam.

The passion.

There's nothin' like it.

Oww!

You need a hand, Dad?

I need a whole new bloody body, that's what I need.

Good day at the office?

If you call waiting for a cab for 50 minutes a good day.

I thought Phillip was driving you.

He's as useful as tits on a bull.

Well, you should have called me.

Look, stop fussing, Rory. I'm all right.

Three years, and they still don't have her remains.

Well, why would someone knock off her boyfriend

if she topped herself?

Doesn't make sense.

Well, I reckon Eddie's found something

or discovered something they didn't want getting out.

Who's they?

I don't know. The college.

So, Eddie died for love, eh?

Oh, shot, mate.

Poor bastard.

Is that what this retreat in Healesville's all about?

Bunch of love-sick blokes talking about their feelings?

It's about men looking to evolve, Jack.

Into what? Women?

It's a healing workshop. You spend two days in the bush.

You know... nature, building a fire, shamanic dancing.

Grooming each other's back hair?

Probably wouldn't hurt you to have a look at it, my friend.

Drew, you need to let this Simone thing go, mate.

It was a fling, she ended it, it happens.

Kids go down okay?

Yep.

I can sleep in the spare room if you like.

No, it's fine.

I've got an early start.

- Night. - Night.

- I give too much, you know? - Mm-hmm.

That's my problem.

I need to be more enigmatic.

Gaze into the space, like I'm dealing with, you know,

vast reservoirs of complexity.

Women love that stuff, but when I do I,

I just look constipated.

Oh, which has its own charm.

Simone's not coming back to me, is she?

I don't know, mate. Um...

Last time I saw her, she was a pirate.

I shouldn't have given her a key

and a toothbrush on our first date, should 1?

Might have come across a bit strong.

When you know, you know, you know?

Yeah, I know.

But I think it helps if they know, too.

Yeah.

Yeah. Anyway, good night, Drew.

Yeah. Night, Jack.

Aren't you Charlie's granddaughter?

You ever heard of knocking on someone's door?

It works really well.

You knock, I answer, and no one gets hurt.

What were you doing, anyway?

I don't know.

How did you know where I lived?

I don't know.

Does your mother know where you are?

I don't know.

How does the Hadron Collider work?

I don't know.

Oh, good. Finally the truth.

You're weird.

I'm possibly concussed.

Opa said you were weird.

Yeah, well, he was German, and they wear lederhosen.

So, you know, glass houses and everything.

My mum has a photo of him in lederhosen.

Ah, bet you miss your grandpa, eh?

Yeah.

I just came to get his mortise and chisel set.

Well, you could have just asked me for it,

instead of hitting me on the head with it.

You attacked me.

You broke into my house.

Yeah, they're my tools.

I'm family, and you're not. You have no right to them.

I completely agree. You can take the lot of them.

- Have nowhere to put them. - Ah.

So you'd like me to look after them for a while, eh?

Except the chisel set.

And you will knock next time you come over?

- Can I go now? - Oh, really? So soon?

This has been positively sparkling.

Should have hit you harder.

Gus.

Gus!

I mean it. Just come any time you want, eh?

The alleged terror attack

by Indian student Javed Nazeem

occurred three years after his visa was canceled.

A spokesman for the minister today released a statement

announcing an urgent review

into all foreign-student visas...

...under the Student Visa

Framework criteria.

Javed Nazeem has eluded...

...said it was now a matter

of priority that all student

subclass 500 visas...

...be reviewed with stricter conditions imposed.

Coming up soon, we'll have the weather

after this check at the call desk.

Even if she did forge the wife's signature,

why wouldn't the school send the body back?

I mean, what are they trying to hide?

Running scared of a compensation case, maybe?

And what sort of condition was Lakshmi in when you saw her?

Jack, doctor-patient confidentiality

is not just a guideline.

It's a law, and I'm bound by it.

Your patient's dead, Rory.

So if there's a cover-up going on,

who's being protected by confidentiality?

Not the patient.

Come on. You've read the papers.

You know these private colleges are a rort.

They run Mickey Mouse courses, they drain taxpayer money,

and they're ripping off families all over the world.

Look...

...I do pro Bono work for mental-health clinics.

Refugees and migrants, mainly.

Lakshmi was referred to me by her GP. I only saw her once.

And all that stuff you saw her saying in the video,

did you see any of that?

Did you get an indication of that?

Well, she complained of headaches, anxiety, depression.

And then she had her accident,

and I never got to see her again.

And that's all I know.

So, I read your file.

Right.

Well, I'm flattered.

Dr. Greaves sent it over. Following up the referral.

I wasn't actually serious about that.

You should be.

Your doctor is.

You've suffered some major personal traumas.

And that's where the confidentiality thing

goes out the window.

So, you've got an entire personal history on me,

and I've got nothing on you.

We all need help, Jack.

And if not me, then you should see someone.

It's not actually necessary, because happiness is on its way.

I saw it written on a wall just outside your office.

Subliminal advertising.

Like I said...

...the offer's there if you want to see me.

Do I need to make an appointment for that?

That's a nice car, Anoushka.

Must go for about four times the annual minimum wage, I'd say.

I wouldn't know.

You wouldn't know the annual minimum wage

or the cost of your Porsche?

If you're going to spend so much time at my college,

Mr. Irish, perhaps you should take up a course.

I actually have a degree.

One that means something.

You'll have to make an appointment, I'm afraid.

And would I do that under your name

or Lakshmi's mother's name?

Javed Nazeem was a student here, as well, at Meritus, wasn't he?

I'd have to check our records.

You know, he's been all over the news.

Do you know why his visa was canceled?

Many of our students run into visa issues, Mr. Irish,

and it's out of our hands, unfortunately.

So, you get fully paid up front by a bunch of foreign students,

who might just be randomly deported,

freeing up space for another student.

Wow. Can't really go wrong with that business model, can you?

We provide all our students with a migration agent

to facilitate on visa matters.

Thank you, Mr. Irish.

Can I get a name?

Excuse me.

Do you know where Simone is?

She's hiding behind the filing cabinet.

Simone!

Simone?

Oh, thanks a lot, Jack.

I was gonna surprise my supervisor.

- Ninja Thursday. - Yeah. Well, admit it.

You didn't see me when you came in.

No. Well, I guess the element of surprise

is in the fact that I was expecting to see

an I.T. person sitting behind her desk.

"Made in China."

Wonder what the Japanese think about that.

Now, I need to find the migration agent

at Meritus College.

I'm sure they've got it ferreted away in there somewhere.

Denis Bontempelli, Sydney Road, Brunswick.

How'd you do that?

It's on the college website.

A cat could have found it.

Well, I don't have a cat, do I?

I have a full-time job now, Jack.

- Do pay you, don't I? - Your jobs are never fun.

Get out.

Look, admittedly, we don't have dress-up Thursdays,

but I reckon compulsory happiness

in the workplace is a little bit overrated.

It is not compulsory.

It just happens naturally.

- Try telling that bloke. - Just get out.

So, the window's been completely smashed,

and she's just sitting in there.

You quite comfortable there, young lady?

Come on, miss. Grab your gear.

So, you're the uncle?

Yeah, that's me.

Uncle Jack.

Right, well, she doesn't appear to have stolen anything,

and the owner doesn't want to pursue charges.

When we found her, she was just sitting there,

- staring at the wall. - I wasn't staring at the wall.

Hmm.

Right, if you could sign here, please.

And you'll personally vouch for the safekeeping of this?

- Yes, I will. - Right.

All right, you're free to go.

After you.

Thanks.

Oh, enough of the apologies.

It's too much already.

Can I have my chisel set back?

Why didn't you call your mum?

'Cause we live in Perth.

- You got a ticket to get back? - You can drop me at the station,

and I can catch the bus to the airport.

Well, there's something you need to do first.

Come on, get in.

- This is bullshit. - Ohh!

- You're not my father. - I'm not your uncle, either,

but at least I showed up.

Now, I'm tipping if Charlie was still with us,

you would have called him. But guess what.

He would have brought you here, as well, so come on.

You can give her this.

Hello.

My friend Augustine here would like to apologize to you

and pay for your broken window.

Sorry.

Well, I appreciate you doing the right thing,

but you did give me a bit of a fright.

You know, you read about these things in the papers, and...

Yeah. As I say, we're very sorry, aren't we?

You done humiliating me?

This is about honor, not humiliation,

and you owe me 300 bucks. But, tell me,

that wall you were staring at, it wouldn't happen to be the one

with that handcrafted oak sideboard against it, would it,

that she obviously had the good taste

to commission from Charlie?

I can walk to the station from here.

You got enough money?

You don't want to take $20 just in case?

If it makes you feel better.

Yeah, makes me feel great.

Cam, it's Jack. Listen, mate.

I'm just wondering if you're free today at about 4:30.

I've got a little mystery rendezvous

I may need some backup on.

No can do.

I'm stuck here with Harry at Kyneton.

Don't you have somebody else to do it?

Yeah. Unfortunately, I do.

Righto.

Jack fuckin' Irish.

Brendan.

You're two hours early, mate.

Really glad you called, Jack.

Yeah. Well, look, it's no big deal.

I just need you to sit at a nearby table at a café

and just be backup.

That's it.

Yeah. Want me to break his thumbs?

No, no. Just backup.

Good to get on the front foot in these matters, Jack.

My experience... opening gambit, break their thumbs.

Everyone knows where they stand.

Yeah, I hear ya, but...

but maybe let's just go a different way on this one, eh?

- Good call. - Yeah.

I'll head over there now.

Have a little recce. Scope things out.

I haven't given you the address.

- Okay. - It's, uh...

It's Bilotti's, in Carlton.

That's a nasty-looking rash you got there.

Yeah. It's this medication I'm on.

Few side effects.

All right.

Yeah, and be discreet, eh?

Won't even know I'm there, Jack.

Coming down the side of Vincent van Gogh.

The 3-year-old Goodbye Goodbye is back on the fence.

Any mail on who tipped off the stewards at Werribee, Razor?

Nothing from my spies, Harry.

Anyone clean up on the race after the favorite was bumped?

Nothing unusual.

Mind you, this old bird had serious place-money

on Liquid Amber at long odds.

This mystery woman... You know anything about her?

Never seen her before.

Teal pantsuit, good set of pins.

Bit of all right, if you ask me.

Somebody joining you?

I think so.

Who are you with?

Uh, nobody. I'm here on my own.

Are you working for them?

I'm not working for anybody.

I'm not even sure who you're talking about, to be honest.

Question is, who are you?

I'm not divulging anything until I know

what your interest in this is.

Ah, well, a very small knitted Fitzroy Football Club jumper

that, if it had been delivered,

would have changed the course of my life.

So, you knew Eddie Chin?

Yeah.

There's more.

More names. There's a list.

Believe me, the mendacity of these people

knows no bounds.

Bilotti's, Jack. For fuck's sake!

- What? - This joint's

a known underworld hangout.

We keep a roll of police tape on the premises.

- I didn't choose the venue. - And an outside table?

They don't even have to get out of their car to shoot ya.

I did organize backup.

Oh, yeah? How'd that work out for ya?

He have any I.D. on him?

No, nothing. John Doe.

No mobile phone, no credit cards, no driver's license.

This was a man who went to some serious trouble

to go off the grid.

He say anything to you before they turned him into a colander?

He'd barely sat down.

Any idea why he wanted to meet?

Jack!

Ooh, fuck.

- You're alive. - Where were ya?

Fell asleep on the tram, didn't I? It's these pills I'm on.

They make me all drowsy.

- This was your backup plan? - I'd never have forgiven myself

if anything had happened to you, Jack.

Right.

Here's your stuff, mate.

- Yeah. - You right?

Yeah.

Maybe you should take him home.

I think he might be in shock.

See ya, Jack.

Don't forget your pen, Jack.

It's not mine.

He ain't gonna need it now, is he?

I take it you did this conveyancing.

I thought we agreed that your days of debt collecting

and conversations with the wrong end of guns, boots, and fists

were over, son.

Ah. How was Perth?

What happened to your neck?

Someone shot at me.

Okay, don't tell me, then.

You, uh... You need a place to crash?

You all right?

Yeah. That oak sideboard?

I helped Opa make it when I came over

for the school holidays once.

He let me mortise the joints.

Nice work.

Nah, he did most of it.

Yeah, but he trusted you with it, though.

Obviously saw some talent.

Did you make this?

Yeah. What do you think?

Looks like the work of a small child.

Right. Well, the apple

doesn't fall far from the tree, then, does it?

I'm off to bed.

You can have the couch.

I'll get you a blanket.

Bathroom's through there.

Have a good sleep, Gus.

Night, Jack.

Come on! Not now!

No!

Come on.

No, don't do this to me now, you useless piece of shit!

Denis Bontempelli?

You know anything about printers?

Uh, just that they're supposed to be plugged in.

Shit.

Some sort of I.T. expert?

Do you know an Eddie Chin from Meritus Institute?

Bit of a blur of Chins, Wongs, and Wangs around here,

- to be honest, mate. - Right.

He's the one who was found down a mine shaft

about 10 days ago near Ballarat.

- Is he all right? - Not really, no.

He's a bit on the dead side...

which I don't imagine's a good look for you.

I-I didn't handle his deportation.

I just do the visas.

But you know about his deportation paperwork, yeah?

Who are you exactly?

Exactly I'm Jack Irish. I'm a lawyer.

And who's he?

I'm Brendan O'Grady, Denis.

I hurt people for a living.

Perhaps we can, uh, come to some sort of arrangement.

Well, you could start by telling me

when Javed Nazeem was supposed to be deported.

Uh, day after Lakshmi Agarwal died.

- They all were. - And how many are we talking?

20, including the dead girl.

Not so blurry now, hey?

They all went.

Except for Javed, who shot through.

But Eddie Chin wasn't one of them?

Do you know why their student visas were revoked?

I'm just a spoke in a wheel, Jack.

Do you reckon you could tell me

who your contact might be at Immigration?

Oh, you know, I-I don't really,

um, deal with anyone sort of specific there.

Just give him the name, Denis,

or you'll be eating through a fucking straw, too.

Denis Bontempelli to see you, Helen.

Send him up.

And she's not wearing a wedding ring?

Yes? And they were wearing Burgas, you say?

How many of them would you say are living there?

What is it, Denis?

Denis sends his apologies.

Denis, what's going on here?

I, um, can't really talk right now.

My real name's Jack Irish.

I'm Javed Nazeem's lawyer.

- Doesn't quite work like this. - How does it work, then?

You've got all these foreign students

paying a fortune to get visas

which you can just revoke on a whim.

How much does Meritus pay your department, exactly?

We don't consider national security a whim, Mr. Irish.

Right. Well, tell me this.

How often would, say, a group of 18 students

who go to the same school... and I use that term ironically...

Get kicked out of the country on the same day?

We don't comment on departmental matters.

You're welcome to write to your local member.

Yeah, that always works.

G'day.

It's lucky they didn't treat your parents like this, eh?

Oh! Uh...

Look, what's going on?

- Ohh! - Phone.

No, it was your handball across goal

that cost us that 1960 prelim against Collingwood.

Oh, still, remember this...

It was Des who made that spoil on their ruckman,

you know, in the pocket, and saved a certain goal.

No, look, the horse had bolted by then.

We should have been in the big dance at The G.

I mean, what were you bloody thinking, Des?

I'll tell you what I was thinking.

I was thinking, "Now, where's Eric Tanner?

Why isn't he out on the ground? Oh, that's right.

Because he never played one single bloody game

of league football in his entire life"!

Oh, well, if you want to get shirky about it, pal!

Oh, bugger this. I've had a gutsful.

I'd rather be drinking on me own at the retirement home.

- I'll see you later, Wilbur. - No, Des.

Uh, mate, don't go. We can work it out.

- Um, I'll get you a pie. - Look.

Tell Jack I'm terribly sorry.

I'm out of here, mate, away from this asshole.

No, Des. Don't go, mate.

- No! Come on! - What was Jack thinking?

No way was that bloke stool material.

Stanley, are you just going to stand there

and let them run your business to the ground?

Cherry, sweetheart, please. I will fix it.

Leave it to me.

- Stanley Collins? - Yes.

Are you the owner of this establishment?

- Yeah, yeah. - This your wife, Cherry Blossom?

Yeah, yes.

What's this about?

Homeland Security.

We've had an anonymous tip-off regarding the marital status

of Ms. Blossom with regard to your temporary partner visa,

- subclass 820. - No!

You're coming with us, Ms. Blossom.

No, I'm legal. I have a visa!

You can't do this! I've got paperwork!

- Stan! Stan! - No, I'll sort it.

- I'll sort it out, darling. - Stan! Stan!

Please! Where are you taking my wife?!

Let my wife go!

- Let her go! - Stan?

Mate, I'll... I'll...

You can't do this! God!

You've got a visitor.

Thanks.

Hello.

I'm Dr. Finch.

Javed?

Can you get me his medical chart?

Can you hear me?

Javed?

Thanks.

Who the hell administered this?

What have they done to you?

Hello?

No more warnings.

Enjoy the walk.