1
(Woman speaks Thai
on airport intercom)
(Speaks Thai)
My name is Dean Canetti,
and I think
the, ahem, technical term
for your situation, Gary,
is what we call 'rooted'.
Wrong country for half a kilo
of smack in your Louis Vuitton.
You planted this.
You bloody well know.
You're looking down the barrel
at 20 years.
You know, we got thirty bodies
to a four man cell.
You got rats
crawling up your arse.
Or...
Your flight leaves
in 90 minutes
and you go back
to your swanky apartment
and your small penis compensating
convertible if you talk to me.
Feel free to name names. Levesque.
No?
TransQuik?
It was planted.
(Sighs) Well, enjoy your stay
at the Bangkok Hilton, Gary.
Wait.
Can I have your attention, please?
This is the final boarding call for
all passengers on Flight 141
from Bangkok direct to Melbourne.
Your flight is now boarding...
Thank you, Mr Connors.
Dave, you there? Dave, we got him.
Rolled and boned him.
Wait till you see it!
He spilled his guts!
There are intestines everywhere.
This'll hang the Teflon bastard when
we get it out there.
Just hang on a sec.
You there?
Yeah, no, no, no.
I'm just, uh, making sure
young Gary gets home
safe and sound.
He's no good to us dead, right?
.
NICK CAVE: Red Right Hand
It's like a Munchkin convention.
Jockeys without horses.
It never looks right.
COMMENTATOR: But he's not going to
get there
and Pax Americana racing away
the last little bit.
Strides away
and wins it by a half...
Not much of a turn out.
Mid-week races at Pakenham.
Dougie'd understand.
Is that the widow?
Yeah. Talk about lucky.
She was at a hen's night
sticking 50 dollar bills
into a Chippendale's G-string
while Dougie snored
through the house fire.
Mmm. Well, he probably
couldn't reach
the smoke alarm
to change the batteries.
Who's the white shoe with the tan?
Ricky Kirsch. From Bris-Vegas.
Ah, obviously wracked with grief.
Reflex action.
Ricky made his first million
in the fruit business.
..always see it through
Win or lose, we do or die
In defeat, we'll always try
Fitzroy, Fitzroy
The club we hold so dear
Premiers
We'll be this year...
A bar fighter,
your father, Jackie.
Labourer and a bar fighter.
We wear the colours
maroon and blue.
Harry.
See you in the members.
What happened to Quarantine
prohibiting cane toads
leaving Queensland?
Ricky Kirsch? Yeah, I saw him.
What's he doing down here?
Well, I gather he's not exactly
on Racing Queensland's Christmas
card list. Talk of race fixing.
How'd we go in the fifth?
Pax Americana?
BOTH: Half a length.
Wouldn't be dead for quids.
Jack fuckin' Irish.
That's for you.
Ah, Brendan.
You shouldn't have.
Should he, Drew?
Brendan insisted
on thanking you himself.
The, uh, Crown
dropped all charges.
You're the bloke got the result,
Jack.
If it weren't for you trackin' down
those hookers
I was innocently banging
in a three-way
on the night of the murder,
I'd have had no alibi witnesses,
would I?
My poor missus'd be visiting me in
jail now.
Oh, it's a feel-good story
all round.
I'd donate a kidney for you
if you needed one.
I really hope you haven't, mate.
It's not mine, is it?
A symbol of my gratitude.
My number's on the card there.
Anything you want, Jack.
Any time. I'll fix it.
You know, a bottle of port would have
done the trick.
I mean it. Grateful don't even begin
to cover what I feel.
I wanna have your babies,
that's more like it.
I wanna have your bloody babies.
Right.
The perks, Jack. Perks.
Yeah, thanks, mate. Thanks.
You looking for me?
Jack Irish,
well, I'll be buggered.
Last time I saw you, about this high
you were, in short pants.
Des Connors. How are you, fella?
Des...
Yeah, look, the daughter-in-law's
been driving me mad
about getting me will done,
and I happened to look up
the phone books
and I happened to see
this John Irish.
Thought, 'I wonder...'
and here you are.
And by Christ, son, you're the dead
spit of your old man.
Him and me were teammates,
you know, a long time ago,
and you would have to be
a ruck rover.
Oh, Des, I'm considered a bit
of an evolutionary cul-de-sac
in the Irish family.
Anyway, come inside.
Hey, Jack, you wouldn't happen
to have a local around here, would
you mate?
And tell me, son, your mother.
Is she still sound?
No, she kicked the bucket,
I'm afraid.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. That
happens. That's a pity.
She a good looker, your Mum.
She was.
I was with Bill the first day
he spotted her.
I guess you've heard that story
a million times.
No. No, I haven't, actually.
Anyway, here we are.
My other office.
Ah, Bill and I sank some frothies in
here back in the day.
Yeah, I bet you did.
Of course, it's all changed
since then.
The Fitzroy Youth Club.
Afternoon, gents.
G'day, mate. Hey, Jack.
Can you give us a round, Stan?
Sure, mate.
Des Connors...
Half back flank,
53 games for the Roys.
Done your knee, what was that,
round 17, 1969, Windy Hill?
Just a player.
Played with your old man, Jack.
Ah, yes, I did that, but I was never
in Bill Irish's league.
Never. One hell of a footballer, was
Bill Irish.
Deadset champion.
Prince among men.
God-like, he was.
A hard God.
Legs like tree trunks.
What was he like, Des?
Yeah, you must have some stories.
His feet stunk.
He had very, very smelly feet, that
fella.
Who gets the pot of gold, Des?
Everything's to go
to a Judy Louise Connors.
Is that your daughter?
No, no, no,
she's my daughter-in-law,
but she's a good lass.
She looks out for me.
And not your son?
Who, Gary? Gary's bloody rubbish.
They're divorced.
So you don't want to include Gary?
Include him?
He fuckin' included himself.
He's already got sixty grand belongs
to me.
Floats in from Thailand,
as large as life.
Hadn't seen him in yonks,
and he cons me.
Got this mate of his. Got some
inside mail on some shares.
Inside mail, my arse.
When was that?
Oh, it would have been
three months ago.
It was, a matter of fact.
It was the 4th of February.
The wife's birthday.
That was going to be
my little nest egg, that, Jack.
I figured I had another dozen
or so years left in me
before I hung up the boots
once and for all.
What about your house?
You own that?
No, no.
Gary's Mum give it to him.
Why did she not give it to you?
Oh, his lawyer went round
and paid her a visit
when she was crook in hospital.
She didn't have a clue
what she was signing.
A woman from the bank come round the
other day,
and said that he'd defaulted
on some loans
and he was using
the house as security.
They're even talkin'
bloody foreclosure.
47 years I've lived
in that place, son. 47 years.
Oh, we could go and pay
him a visit
tomorrow if you like, young Gary.
Oh, no, Jack.
It's not your concern.
I don't mind the drive.
You can tell me a bit more about
my old man. Old Bill Irish, eh?
I could tell you some tales about
him, would make your hair curl.
They'd been shot through the neck
'cause I saw it.
And they're black. They've been
there a while but they're black.
Hey, hey! Hey, excuse me.
You're not supposed
to be back here, mate.
Hey, excuse me,
you're not supposed...
The Flowerpot Men, uh?
.
Hey, Lester.
Jack, how many for you?
Just one, thanks.
What happened to two?
Ah, two went to Sydney.
Ah, Sydney.
To work on that, with the Pringle.
..of the Top Ten Rich List.
Linda Hillier met the maverick mogul
on the move.
Those in the know
say Steven Levesque
is more than mere
corporate kingpin,
he's a political kingmaker
with a direct line to the highest
offices in the land.
Well, I see the PM
very occasionally, Linda.
Usually at $1,500
a-plate dinners.
You know, beef and chicken affairs,
that sort of thing.
How do you respond,
Mr Levesque, to those who say
the Attorney General,
a former colleague of yours,
is incapable of choosing a tie...
There she is, number two.
She looks good, Jack.
Yep.
Malcolm does share my weakness for
Borelli seven fold ties,
so he can't go far wrong, can he?
So the fact that one of your
companies, Fincham Air,
last year won the Middle East supply
and surveillance contract
owes nothing to your relationship
with the party?
Sick the smarmy ponce, Linda.
If you're into conspiracy
theories, Linda,
I should tell you Osama Bin Laden
isn't dead.
He's sunbaking by my pool
at my holiday house as we speak.
Is that the Caribbean one
the Attorney General stayed
in last July?
Aha!
There'll be another two, Jack.
Oh, might be the end of my twos,
Lester.
You only get so many twos.
Oh, yeah,
I'll have some questions.
Don't worry about that.
Old fella.
They made six billion dollars profit
last year,
and now they're threatening
to auction off
me little two bedroom weatherboard.
Dirty rotten bastards.
Here, cop these, son.
Gary gave his mum a spare set.
Well, the mail's gone.
He must have been here.
Jesus, this is bloody posh.
What'd the bastard
need my sixty grand for?
The use by date's
three months old.
Yeah, right. That'd be right.
Reflux and a sex life,
by the looks of things.
Yeah, he once tried to pimp
his ex-wife off to his boss,
and then he finished up rooting her
little sister, the prick.
Well, that does give me a feel
for Gary.
Yeah, well I might take
this opportunity
to water the old horse.
She was a false alarm.
That was a dry run.
WOMAN ON PHONE: Welcome
to TransQuik. Please hold.
Is that Gary?
Yeah, Afghanistan.
Used to be SAS.
Don't worry, mate. We'll find him.
Yeah...
Heaven is my woman's love...
Do we have to listen
to this, Harry?
Have you know,
Col Joye was huge in his day.
What day are we talking, mediaeval?
Enough of that, Philistine.
Give Jack the rundown.
Vision Divine. 12 year old, lightly
raced.
44 starts, five wins,
six seconds and eight thirds.
Another nag from the nursing home?
He hasn't placed in 18 months,
but now he's got his kick back.
Got heart, too. Game old bugger.
Hopefully, the books
won't see us coming.
Think there's a killer harp solo
coming up.
See the Tote gets it when they start
heading for the gates.
Tell the yokels to start dribbling
it on after the first.
We'll be pissing on a lot
of people's barbies today.
Well, I can say this about
Vision Divine.
He's certainly got surprise
in his favour.
Well, if looks mattered, Jack,
there wouldn't have been four
Mrs Harry Strangs.
Who's the hoop?
Johnny Chernov. He's on a streak.
Best country hoop going round,
Johnny Chernov.
You know, the only good thing about
your weather, Harry,
turns on the high beams!
Anyhoo, good luck, Harry.
And I hope you got him each way.
COMMENTATOR: So the 12-year-old
Vision Divine
to come up to the barriers. They're
just about set to go ...
Cam!
I got it at 20s!
Ready to run! And they're racing!
Burnbank Boy leads with about 100m
to go, from Clancy's Angel.
Sir Rocco running on,
Vision Divine cannot get a run.
Johnny Chernov's
got to get a pocket.
But as they go down the line, it's
Burnbank Boy racing away,
and he won by two lengths
from Sir Rocco,
Clancy's Angel half a run third
and just behind those a little way
was Vision Divine.
Give Johnny Chernov a call.
I think it's time we had
our own stewards' inquiry.
So... the man who finds
the scum of the earth,
man who breaks
his parents' hearts.
Horses and criminals.
That's his life.
Ah, too late to break
his parents' hearts.
And, sometimes, the criminals
are on the horses.
God, even the back.
Only removalists
are ever going to see that.
You see plywood on back
of a Stradivarius violin?
Did you miss me, Charlie?
What I miss?
I miss someone finish
the little jobs I gave him.
The little tables.
Day's work
for a man who actually works.
Fancy a quiet one at the pub?
No, my grand-daughter
cook me dinner.
Big game tomorrow.
They think old buggers,
no chance.
What do those pishers know
about bowls?
How old are these youngsters,
Charlie, more or less?
60, 65, around that.
Bloody pishers!
They should have
their own junior league.
God, it's hard to know
if it's the bowls colliding
or their hips cracking.
I find it hard to know
why Carol left you, Barry.
Jam it up your arse.
So this favour.
Your bloke, Gary Connors,
travelling through raghead country.
Ugh.
Purchases in Dubai, and another one
on the stopover in Bangkok.
Went three months ago,
1st of Feb.
And nothing since?
(Burps)
Was that a no?
He's dead or in hiding,
is my guess.
Right. Is that everything?
No. You're in luck.
Tax Department did an audit.
Shitload of travel claims.
Middle East mostly.
So what's the story with you
and the cast of Cocoon?
Show them pishers, Charlie.
Toothless beat ruthless!
Klostermann Gardier?
Aviation SF, Airbound Services...
This mean anything to you?
Shit, I can't be arsed
doing me own job.
I'm not going to do yours.
Where'd you get that bun, anyway?
The clubhouse.
You realise that is their morning
tea, don't you?
Police presence at a...
..major sporting event
comes at a price, Jack.
So Gary Connors works
for the Levesque Group companies.
All shells, with two exceptions -
Cayman Islands, Cook Islands,
Andorra.
Registered in one place,
owners in another.
Companies owned by companies
who are owned by companies
who are owned by companies. Russian
dolls.
Exceptions, Klostermann Gardier,
private bank in Luxemburg,
and Airbound Services
in Tampa, Florida.
51% owned by an Australian company,
Fincham Air,
part-owned by Cross Trice Holdings.
Problem?
Do you always talk this fast?
Do you always listen this slow?
Right. So um, Fincham Air,
that's Levesque, isn't it?
Yes.
As is TransQuik Australia. Freight
company.
Connors is on their payroll.
They're Cross Trice's
biggest company.
Steven Levesque is CEO of one,
Chairman of the other.
It's all in my report.
You know, all this information
is ready available.
You could have done
this yourself.
You're very wrong about that,
Ms Bendtsen.
Bendtsen. Bendtsen.
What is that, Danish?
OK, so what do I owe you?
Um, hour's work. $120.
Just, um, make it 100.
Cheers.
Welcome to TransQuik,
please hold.
Jack Irish for Gary Connors, thanks.
We don't have a Gary Connors working
here.
Who did you make
the appointment with?
Ah, maybe I could speak
to someone in HR.
Thank you for holding.
How can I help?
Mr Irish, I'm afraid there is
no Gary Connors working here.
Oh, in Dubai, is he? Or Bangkok?
Mr Connors left the organisation
some time ago.
How long have you been in HR here...?
I'm actually
with the Legal Department.
Ah, they sent the lawyer down.
If there's nothing else,
Mr Irish?
So I should probably
go and find Gary Connors
over at Fincham Air, maybe?
I don't know who that is.
You don't know Fincham Air?
An associate company part-owned
by TransQuik?
Security. Really?
We're going to have to ask you to
leave the premises, sir.
Yeah, righto.
Yes, Mr Levesque please.
It's important.
Irish.
Jack, it's me.
Listen, this weekend isn't going to
happen.
Everything's in freefall up here.
MP chair-sniffing sex scandal.
Wow. Stories like that, it's more a
calling than an occupation.
I don't have a choice
about these things.
Well, I'd better let you go then.
We're pretty much falling freely down
here as well.
You know,
floor looming up and all.
Could I just see you
in your positions, please?
You've reached Linda Hillier.
Please leave a message. (Beep)
The chairs in my parlour
seem empty and bare.
What time do you call this?
Unglaublich.
Utterly unglaublich. (Chuckles)
We're looking for Jack Irish.
Haven't seen him for a long time.
Heard he go away.
Is that right?
Bit of a carpenter, are we?
I am a cabinet maker.
Cabinet maker is to carpenter
as Rolex is to sundial.
Well, next time you see
Jack Irish, old man,
perhaps you could pass
on this message.
HEY! What are you doing?
I'll call the police!
Oh, Charlie.
(Groans) Careful.
That's my bowling hand.
It should've been me, Charlie.
Yeah. (Groans)
I'd prefer that.
You want to tread carefully
with TransQuik, Jack.
It's the big end of town.
All the towns.
Yeah, well, whoever did this better
have back up.
The name's Dave.
Dave? Well, that's not really enough,
is it?
Probably get one of these
made in a booth at the airport.
Probably could.
How'd you go at Werribee?
Yeah, it's a mug's game, mate.
My horses are still racing.
The old man going to be alright?
Nicorette?
No.
So what's your interest
in Gary Connors?
I'm doing his father's will. You?
Well, I'm trying to close a file on
a tedious investigation.
I'm thinking
many hands make light work.
We could help each other out.
Oh, I was never much good
at team sports, Dave.
Oh, fair enough.
Look at these gutless pricks.
You know...
If these boys want snow
in Darwin, Jack, it falls.
Youth Club are quiet tonight.
Another bottle
of Chateau Disappointment? Mmm.
Hey, Jack, did I tell ya,
I had a bloke come in
this morning.
Wants to buy the pictures.
Pictures? What pictures?
The photos. All this junk.
Bloke? What kind of a bloke?
Brisbane Lions bloke.
Yeah, he reckons all the photos
should be up in Brisbane.
They got a big luxury clubhouse.
Lions Wall of Fame in the bistro.
Lions Wall of Fame?
What Lions would those be, Stan?
Well, the way he put it, Norm,
with the Fitzroy Football Club's
in Brisbane now...
This could get ugly.
Yeah.
Stanley, would you like me
to show you a map?
Fitzroy Football Club
is not in Brisbane.
And why is that, Stanley?
Steady, Eric.
Pretty good price he offered, too.
Because Fitzroy Football Club
is in Fitz-bloody-roy!
Bloody oath.
Best to depart before somebody bursts
a colostomy bag.
This is bloody Nuremberg stuff, this
is.
So I guess you saw Linda tangling
with Steven Levesque
the other night? Mmm.
How is Linda?
Oh, the toast of Sydney, apparently.
Melbourne hates success.
Doesn't match the weather.
(Chuckles)
Mate of mine up there
saw her with Rod Pringle,
at some TV do.
Yeah. They're work colleagues.
He kissed her ear.
Well, they kiss everything
in television, don't they?
(Chuckles) Yeah...
The ear. Really?
Mouth's better than the ear.
Your aunty can kiss you
on the mouth.
Mmm.
Hasn't been back in six weeks.
Go fight for her, mate.
Lay low in Sydney
from this TransQuik Gary Connors
business.
No, I can't. Not after what happened
to Charlie.
Not one piece of furniture
in this place handmade.
Well, that is definitely
the real crisis
in our public hospital system,
Charlie.
Look at that.
Yeah...
That's a start.
Uh, the doctor said to take it easy,
didn't he?
The old man should be retired.
Mmm.
But, no, he goes on,
teaches something
to this noiseless person
who walk in off the street,
waste his time,
won't go away, like a cat.
Can you help me please,
with this?
You really don't need to work,
Charlie.
Jack, make something,
look at it and be happy.
The work it took.
That's not work.
Heaven is my woman's love
Happiness is what she gives
As long as she's with me
I'll find
Heaven every day I'll live.
Interesting choice of venue.
Nobody'll see us here.
Been looking at the Werribee video,
Johnny.
Don't like it at all.
Don't like the way you got lost, in
the crowd at the turn.
So tell the stewards.
Or ride the fuckin' things yourself.
It's polite to ask, Johnny.
And, yes, we do mind.
Now, Johnny,
we've come all this way
to beautiful downtown
Dingley Shopping-town
to give you a one time only
opportunity to explain
why you lost the race
in which people trusted you
with their money.
I could be dead tomorrow.
Jesus, dead tonight.
Did you hear about Pat Moss?
Car knocked him 20m.
Miracle if he rides again.
Broken leg, ribs,
collarbone, hip.
I read about that.
Do you think Dougie Armit's
house fire was an accident?
You wanna give us a name?
I think we know the name.
Alright, well, let's get this
over with.
No, there's no call for that.
So, what,
you want the dough you dropped?
You got a hundred grand on you, have
you, Johnny?
No, tea's on me, Mr Strang.
I'm touched.
TransQuik...
(Mumbles) Black market operation.
Hi. This article you found,
by Stuart Wardle. Yep.
What do we know about this guy?
Ah, did we... Why?
I'm not sure who his sources are,
but he's ruffling some pretty serious
feathers.
TransQuik, Cross Trice Holdings.
PlusOne.com?
No, don't.
Don't look.
Just remind me again
how Danish Blue fits into this?
I didn't see that in here.
Well, I...
What...
I see you've cut down on your words
per minute, Miss Bendtsen.
You're my first conversation
in three days.
Danish Blue is pretty catchy.
You're obviously trying to attract
lovers of smelly cheese.
If I give you background
on Wardle, will you go?
Yeah, I just need a contact.
Well, Wardle actually writes one of
the better read blogs,
if you're a fan of military
industrial
complex conspiracies,
and who isn't? Who isn't?
Yeah. Um, just going
to print his address now.
He actually exposed
the connection
between Klostermann Bank
and TransQuik.
Oh, you're into Zumba!
(Bang!)
Ow!
Can you not read that?
It just came up.
Well, it's on the printer.
You can get it on your way out.
OK.
Thanks.
I actually love romantic weekend
drives in the country myself!
Bye!
See ya.
WOMAN: Yes?
Uh, yeah,
looking for a Stuart Wardle.
Ah, not here, sorry.
Oh. It's about his article
that claims Steven Levesque
is in with the Afghan opium trade.
Got ID?
Yeah. Got my,
uh, Law Institute Card.
I'm not sure
how much that reassures me.
Well, it definitely
doesn't reassure me.
How about a video card?
Ah. Cheers.
Hi.
Hi.
Come in.
Thanks.
Sorry, I thought
you might have been muscle.
I, uh, just got back from quite
a delicate assignment.
I don't usually fall
under suspicion of being muscle.
You take up enough room.
I'm on a deadline
for an exhibition.
Lyall Cronin. Is this you?
The gallery wants these yesterday
and I still can't decide.
What is it the Dervishes say?
Freedom is the absence of choice.
I thought that was Pol Pot.
Are you expecting Stuart back
anytime soon?
No, I haven't heard from him
in a while.
I was away, working in Yemen
and got back and he wasn't here.
Is that unusual?
No, not really.
We're always passing each other at
30,000ft
en route to some other assignment.
Ah, so you and he are...?
Housemates.
With benefits.
Lapsed benefits.
I keep thinking he's just going to
walk through the door.
How long's it been?
Three months.
Left wing web journalism
obviously pays well.
Well, right wing parents help.
Mmm.
This is it.
Ah, mission control, eh?
Ah, Missing Persons was here. I'm
not sure if they took anything.
Oh, right, so he's officially
missing, is he?
They checked the airlines
and found that he'd flown
to Auckland.
His photo's been on TV there,
and all the papers.
No-one's seen him.
There are places in the world where
a journalist goes missing.
New Zealand's not one of them.
What about messages
on the machine? Erased.
By who?
Don't know.
Is this the business line?
Yeah.
I didn't want to disconnect it, just
in case.
You've called Dean Canetti.
Leave a message.
Do you know a Dean Canetti?
Vaguely. Stuart had teed up
a meeting with him.
I get the feeling you've done
this kind of thing before,
Mr Irish.
Oh, I'm just trying
to help a friend.
There's this connection between this
bloke I'm looking for
and a bank
called Klostermann Gardier.
From Stuart's article?
Yeah.
He said that was a name
that could get people killed.
Right.
Rightio. Well, thanks, Lyall.
You've got my number,
if you think of anything.
I wouldn't get your hopes up about
Stuart's hard drive.
He was a stickler
for passwords and encryption.
Oh, well, worth a try.
If only to give you a reason
to come back.
Bye.
So I'm the stakeout, taking
a leak against the back tyre,
you know, big relief.
Fucker sticks a shotgun right
between my shoulder blades.
Anyway, so I'm standing there
with me crutch python
hanging out,
such as it is, frostbitten,
I do my quickest hip turn,
which even I'll admit
probably ain't that quick.
You're wasting your time, there.
Those things throw
like dead chooks.
So I turn around,
I'm pissing all over him,
bit of a scuffle breaks out,
gun goes off
along with half his face.
That's a lovely story, mate.
Yeah, they offered me counselling
but I'd already rooted her twice.
Double 16.
Give a bloke half a chance.
I need a slash. Hold my dick?
So I found two Dean Canettis.
A toddler from Alice...
(Breaks wind)
..and a Middle East
Market Consultant
from butt-fuck Melbourne.
So which one did you want?
I'd be careful here, Jack.
Why's that?
Canetti used to be a Fed,
but he's fallen off the radar.
My advice?
Blind eye.
Mrs Canetti?
Do you mind if I ask you
about Dean's work?
Middle East Market Consultant. What
is that?
Import-export... I thought.
Now I don't know.
Do you believe that?
Been married eight years and not
even know what my husband does.
(Sighs) How can he just
be missing?
On the phone,
you said men came to tell you.
Who were they? The police?
Didn't say.
You don't ask, do you?
They said Dean
might have had an accident.
That he was doing secret work.
For the government?
They said I couldn't tell anyone.
He said we'd be taken care of.
Mortgage paid out, all that.
Take the money,
don't tell anyone, end of story.
Just forget your husband.
Just forget their father.
When you last spoke, did he give you
an idea of what he was doing?
He called from Bangkok.
All he said was, 'A few more days
with this bastard Connors
and I'm home. Black Tide's over.'
You sure he said Connors?
Yeah.
And Black Tide.
Do you know what that was?
Knew the name. Didn't know what.
I asked Dean about it once
and he turned on me.
He said, 'Forget you heard it.
Don't ever mention Black Tide
to anyone.'
What the hell's it matter now?
Irish.
Yeah, just keep walking towards the
kerb, Jack.
There's a car waiting for you.
Who's this?
Ah, they've got Meryl
Canetti under surveillance, mate.
You walked right into it.
Jack, this is Ray.
He works for me. Jack.
Who's 'they', Dave? And why have
'they' got her under surveillance?
Canetti was doing a job for us.
We know he cleared Customs
at Tulla.
Since then, he's gone dark.
Nicorette?
No.
Was Canetti following
Gary Connors?
Hop in, mate.
I want to show you something.
That Beechcraft taking off
is part of the Fincham Air fleet.
They fly in and out of here
three times a week.
That one?
Aviation SF.
RAY: They do the midnight run
from Darwin.
Drugs, is it?
Mm-hm.
Well, we could pull the cargo
and the pilot out of the plane now.
It still wouldn't give us Levesque.
The fact is, TransQuik's
got unlimited resources...
..and I've got three men.
You're the fourth, Jack.
But I don't work for you, Dave.
If you find Gary Connors, call me.
This thing's secure.
Sounds like I'm under water.
That's 'cause you're hearing me
off a satellite,
talking through electronic condoms.
Hit 'one, two' to call me, anytime.
Course, even with condoms
you can still get pregnant.
That's how I wound up married.
Shit!
Floor it, Ray. Go!
(Tyres squeal)
(Gunfire)
Christ! Get your head down! Shots!
(Horn blares)
Ray! Ray! No! No!
We're fish in a fuckin' barrel here!
Soon as I move, you run!
You run for cover,
you don't look back, you got it? Go!
Police, drop your weapon!
Drop your weapon now!
Dave?
DAVE: (On phone)
Better make your own way home, Jack.
I'll clean up here. Don't expect
to see this on the news.
KAMAHL: # Do you miss me tonight?
Are you sorry we drifted apart?
Does your memory...
Is that Kamahl?
They were out of Elvis
at the airport.
When I kissed you and called...
I wanted to tell you myself.
I didn't look for it.
It just happened.
And it's, uh... it's over now.
Seem empty and...
But I'm feeling
a bit soiled and stupid.
So I collected my things. Um...
I don't know
if you'll ever want to see me again.
You could let me know about that.
Or not.
Why did it have to be
the bloody Pringle?
Look, I know I screwed up,
but admit it -
you couldn't wait to bundle me off
to Sydney to be a media star...
Yeah, right - I bundled you off.
If you'd just made me feel
like you wanted me to stay.
Course I wanted you to stay.
Why didn't you say it?
And if I'd said something,
you wouldn't have gone?
Of course I would have gone.
It was a huge career opportunity.
But I wouldn't have
screwed the Pringle.
Look, it always felt
like you were still married
and I was some guilty affair.
Well I guess you'd know
all about that, wouldn't you?
VOICEMAIL: You've called Jack Irish.
Leave a message.
(Bleep!)
DES: Jack, it's, uh,
it's Des Connors, mate.
Look, they've found Gary's car.
They pulled it out of the water
near Phillip Island.
Uh, I always knew
he'd come to a sticky, that lad.
Someone's selling,
but I'm not buying, Des.
If they never found a body,
car could have been stolen, dumped.
Ah, I wasn't much of a dad,
but I could never find
anything of me in him.
Not like you and Bill.
People have been saying that to me
all my life.
Truth is,
I have no idea who my old man was.
Ah, I suppose I should
be the grieving parent, Jack,
but I just can't find it in me.
All I can think of
is I've done all me dough
and now I look like
losing this old house.
You're staying in this house, Des.
You'll be leaving feet first,
only after you've got
your telegram from the Queen, OK?
Ah, Bill Irish's boy.
Thank you, son. Thank you.
Yep.
Of course, Monet was famous
for his water lilies.
Well, hello there.
Mm! My learned friend.
Are you expecting more muscle?
Uh, no, lighting fires.
Mm.
Essentially a male preserve.
Yes, and we'd like to hang onto it.
Not many preserves left.
Good. Off you go.
I have to confess
to vaguely false pretences.
Really?
Mm.
I haven't remembered
anything at all useful.
Oh! That's a bit bloody cheeky,
isn't it?
You think you can just get away with
wasting a high-powered
suburban solicitor's time like that?
Here.
Shit!
Oh, no!
I've spilt your fancy wine.
That's alright.
It's not that fancy.
They do say to let it breathe,
anyway, don't they?
Yeah, they do.
You know, I enquired about you.
Did you now?
Mm-hm.
You were described
as a person of dubious reputation.
Oh. Really?
Mm-hm. That's what they say.
You can't argue with 'they',
can you?
They seem to know everything.
Did you enquire about me?
I come from a simpler time, Lyall,
before Google.
That's quite a collection of things
you've got there.
They were gifts, from Stuart.
The tackier the souvenir,
the better.
Been to some pretty exotic places.
New York, Istanbul, Phillip Island.
(Chuckles) I know.
Every trip a new one would bob up.
It was our thing.
He was quite the romantic.
Oh, right. So, a bit more than just
housemates with benefits, then?
Mm. He asked me to marry him once.
Aha.
I didn't take him seriously.
I thought it was just
the orgasm speaking.
I actually laughed.
Oh.
I wish I hadn't laughed.
Ah, well, it'll be alright.
Maybe one day.
No. No, he's gone.
So tell me about the Irish women.
Well...
Mm?
..until recently
I was a bit of a Trappist monk.
Oh, really?
Yeah.
So you've renounced
your vow of chastity?
Yeah, I thought it was for the best.
Phone, or I'll stalk you.
Bye.
SIMONE: Jack!
One mention of Black Tide.
Senate. Three years ago. Mysterious.
I'm double parked.
You know, one day we should have
a proper conversation
with adjectives and things.
'Mysterious' is an adjective.
I see you're all dressed up,
Danish Blue. A lunch date, perhaps?
Divorced, two kids. Him, not me.
You don't think too velvety?
No such thing.
Great.
So, Drew, my friend,
have a listen to this
from Senator Backbench Nobody.
SENATOR: (Recording) Can the
Honourable Senator confirm
that recently
a Federal Police Taskforce operation
called Black Tide
was closed down under pressure from
the highest level of government?
Now, do you want to hear
Hansard's verbatim record of that?
Oh, it's like you just read my mind.
(Reads)
'Can the Honourable Senator confirm
that recently
an important Federal Police operation
was cancelled on financial grounds?'
Seems Black Tide's missing.
They've changed Hansard, Drew.
Hansard.
The Attorney-General
got the liquid paper out.
Yeah, well if they
can change Hansard,
they've got
some pretty serious pull.
You want my advice, Jack?
Write the old man a cheque
for 60 grand.
Yeah, you're right.
Can I borrow 60 grand?
RACE CALLER: And here's Bold Chino
rocketing down the outside.
Bold Chino moved up, took the lead.
And Bold Chino races home to win it.
Ricky Kirsch has got these horses
going around on a bloody carousel.
Same thing at Werribee.
..just in front of the well back,
Vision Divine.
Isn't that Dougie Armit's widow?
Yeah, the woman can't bear being
vertical for more than ten minutes.
Harry.
Good to see you working your way
through the seven stages
of grieving, Mrs Armit.
Suck on it, Harry.
How much do you reckon Mr Kirsch
can make from a scam like this?
We got the tote figures.
80 Kirsch wins.
Mostly Queensland.
It's millions, Jack.
I can live with people
offering the hoops a quid.
But killing and maiming them's
something else.
That banana bender's gotta go home.
Why are you looking at me?
Well, I mentioned the matter vaguely
to Andrew Greer,
and he reckons there's a certain
person could be helpful here.
Kind of person who'd
give you a kidney if you lost one.
So much for client privilege.
Teamwork. That's what wins races.
VOICEMAIL: You've called Jack Irish.
Leave a message.
(Bleep!)
LINDA: Jack Irish. Speaking to
the machine of Linda Hillier.
Never really saw myself as a Linda.
Listen, you won't care -
why should you? -
but I'm on the way out up here.
The Pringle wants me
off the premises.
Finds it awkward having me around.
What's that saying -
'Never pee in your own handbag'?
Yeah, well, I need a new handbag.
Actually, I'd prefer an old one.
Goodnight, Jack Irish.
CAM: So what's on Phillip Island
besides fairy penguins?
Hopefully somebody
who doesn't want to be found.
Can you just try not to shoot me?
I'll see how I feel.
Locals - they picked
the place pretty clean.
Yeah, I'm sure if the water tank
wasn't made of concrete
they would have pilfered that
as well.
Good stuff, concrete. No rust.
Cam, turn around.
Don't tell me.
I like surprises.
Oh, Christ!
Ohh.
Nasty?
Agh, get off me.
Yeah.
Your bloke?
No, it's not Connors.
DAVE: G'day, Jack.
I just found Dean Canetti,
turned into consomme in a water tank
on a farm in Phillip Island.
What farm?
Gary's ex-wife. It's in her name.
See, what'd I tell you?
Lack of resources.
Jesus, dead eh?
I reckon that's enough
cloak and dagger, Dave.
I'd like to know about Black Tide.
Well, I can't talk here, mate,
but, uh, name a place.
How's the Mexican stand-off going?
Pistols at dawn, Jack.
WILBUR: Head up their arse,
some people.
Yeah, can't see the elephant
till it farts.
It's good to see the Prince still
its usual vibrant self, isn't it?
Nicorette?
I don't want a Nicorette.
You know,
when Black Tide first started up,
we were playing it by the book.
Just watching the drugs come in from
Kabul by the plane and boatload.
I mean, Gary Connors was the glue,
but we were never
going to get near the prick.
And who shut you down?
Came from the top. Cabinet level.
Oh, that's some nerve you touched.
Yeah. The TransQuik nerve.
Levesque?
Mm.
So when we fired
Black Tide up again,
it had to be unofficial,
but not without friends.
This time, we loaded Gary up with
half a kilo of smack in Bangkok.
We stitched him up. Full confession.
Canetti did the job.
Next I hear from Canetti,
he's gone rogue.
Won't hand over the memory card.
He wants to do a DIY WikiLeaks
before TransQuik's moles
get hold of it. Yeah.
Now he's dead and Gary's gone AWOL.
Um, look, Dave, I'm ...
..I'm out, mate.
It's all a little bit scary for me.
I...
I think I might try and find some
other way to help Gary's old man.
Jack, these people know who you are.
Mate, they know your friends,
they know your loved ones.
They even know Gary's old man.
I've had to send Sarah
and the kids away, mate.
I sleep in a no-star motel
with a gun under my pillow.
Oh, yeah.
And your mark's on the slate.
These people want a clean slate.
So...
..unless we find Gary,
we're dead men.
Did you find anything
on Wardle's computer?
Can't this wait?
That was him, wasn't it?
Who?
PlusOne-Dot-Com, on the stairs.
No... don't...
Oh, look!
So the velvet worked, then?
Someone used a file shredder
on Wardle's hard drive,
but I managed
to trawl a few fragments.
Mostly audio.
Three trips a week, flying from
Qatar Air Base to Pine Gap.
Eagle Ex was adding
a heroin sweetener.
MAN: Go on.
Some of the smack
was in transit for the States.
That's why they bought Leeton
Stevedoring... (Audio breaks up)
Eagle wanted a complete loop
from... (Audio breaks up)
That's a data gap.
Right.
Steven's in blood
up to his naval...
Right, and that's it.
Steven, as in Levesque?
Well, whoever it is, doesn't say.
It's Gary Connors.
But we're gonna have to get the
original of this to make it stick,
or find Gary himself.
Did you run those names -
Eagle Ex, Leeton?
I will print the report
if you promise to go.
I'm sure PlusOne-Dot-Com
doesn't mind waiting in his car.
Alright, all of these are companies
that are connected to, or owned by,
TransQuik and Steven Levesque.
Now go. Please.
Have you got a back way out of here?
Why?
Uh, you're gonna have to tell
PlusOne to meet you around the back.
You're staying at his place tonight.
Oh, no, we're not really
at that stage yet.
I promise I won't think
any less of you. Come on.
Alright.
Dean Canetti's dead.
He's been shot.
Dean Canetti, as in Stuart's
last phone call, Dean Canetti?
Yeah. And I don't think
Stuart went to Auckland.
His passport might have.
Listen, you need to find
somewhere else to live for a while.
Why?
Because these people
can Mortein anything,
and the fact that I've been here
just makes this place unsafe.
Jack, I take photos in war zones
all around the world.
Anywhere closer to home?
Don't look at those. Don't, please?
Look, I...
I know this looks bad, but...
Oh, you reckon?
Well, try and see it
from my point of view.
I mean, you came
barging into my house,
nosing around after Stuart
with nothing but
a crappy Law Institute card,
and, what, I'm supposed to just take
you at face value?
How'd you get these?
I track insurgents for a living.
You think I can't follow you
round Fitzroy?
Look, you never confided in me.
I didn't know
who you really were or...
What do you know about me now?
What do these supposedly tell you?
Well, you're not just some
suburban lawyer for starters.
You could have been
working for ASIO, the Feds...
I work for a 75-year-old
half-back flanker with dodgy knees.
Just find somewhere else to stay,
OK?
(Knocks) Des!
It's just me, mate.
(Continues knocking)
I'm sorry it's so late.
It's important.
I wasn't asleep, anyway.
You run out of dreams
at my age, son. Come on in.
If Gary wanted to
lay low for a while,
you know, maybe
change his name, perhaps,
what do you reckon he'd change it to?
Mother's maiden name or something?
Yeah. Marjorie Rose Keegan.
Keegan.
Where the bloody hell is it?
It's here somewhere.
And did he have any nicknames
as a kid?
Chook. Used to call himself chook.
Spent the school holidays
down at a little chook farm.
Belonged to the wife's cousin.
Come back from there with two heads,
I used to tell him.
Why's that?
Was it in Tassie or something?
Yeah, it was down near Lonnie.
A dead-end spot down there, mate.
And do you remember
your wife's cousin's name?
Oh, yeah, now, uh...
Yeah, she was one of the Painters.
Gary had a bit of a thing
for the daughter - Glenda Painter.
Here, son.
I'd like you to have that one.
I never, ever saw your
old man back away from a fight.
But he couldn't be told, neither.
Were you there that night?
Ah, yes, yes, I was.
I was inside on the dunny
at the time,
and this joker runs in
and he said Bill was dead.
Cracked his head on the kerb.
Gone to God.
What for? Bloody nothin'.
We've all got our weaknesses
in this world, son,
and I'm afraid that danger
and a few grogs were Bill's.
Yeah.
In the blood, I wonder.
DAVE: Yes, Jack.
Dave?
I might have something for you, mate.
So where's everyone else?
Tonight Black Tide's
more or less you and me, Jack.
The Gulfstream's in the shop, is it?
Cutbacks.
Head office asked if we could
do some crop dusting on the way.
Cigarette?
No.
You know, this is a SOG job, really.
Well, a team of smart SOGies.
Since that's an oxymoron,
you'd end up with a dead Gary.
And that'd mean
the bastards win again.
You don't...
You don't think I should be armed
or anything, do you?
A Federal agent arming a civilian?
Alright, it's time
for Gary's wake up call.
WOMAN: Hello. Who is it?
Gary Connors, please.
Who is this?
Detective Inspector David Gwynne,
Gary.
Your house is surrounded
by police officers, mate,
and what I'd like you to do
is come out nice and slow
with your hands in the air
so these trigger-happy bastards
don't get other ideas.
No dramas, alright?
Gibbo, hold your fire!
Andy, Andy, settle!
Alright, everyone,
just hold your positions!
Yeah, righto!
Nice and slow, Gary!
Right, I want you to kneel down,
put your hands behind your head.
Lie down, Gary.
Cuff him.
Gary? Gary!
Go inside, Glenda!
Get back inside.
Don't frighten her. Just leave her.
There's only two of them, Gary!
We're not gonna hurt you, Glenda.
We're police officers, alright?
Don't you hurt him.
He didn't do anything.
Go back inside. Go back inside.
I didn't kill Canetti.
I know you didn't, mate.
He drowned taking swimming lessons,
didn't he?
But you did kill the flowerpot men,
didn't ya?
Yeah, in self defence.
Enough bullshit.
Now where's the memory card?
Don't tell them anything, Gary!
What does he get out of it?
Glenda, go back inside,
fix yourself a cup of tea,
pack some of Gary's things,
possibly for a couple of days.
I love you, Gary.
Love you.
Where's the memory card, Gary?
I don't know.
Uh, Canetti gave it to some journo -
a Waddle or a Wardle or something.
Can't believe I haven't seen it
on the news.
What about your old man's 60 grand?
How do you know about that?
I'm his lawyer.
(Laughs) Christ. Not even two cops.
One cop and a bloody lawyer.
Uh, you want to give us a clue
where it might be?
Under the bonnet.
Should still be 50 grand
of it there.
How's the old man doing?
Oh, just happy at the end of his life
to have a son who loves him so much,
I think.
Shall we go?
MAN: What the hell's
going on here, Dave?
That you, Terry?
I tried to reach you, mate.
We had to leave in such a rush.
Tell me Ray's got a twin, Dave.
Or a really good doctor.
Are you on the take, Dave?
(Laughs) On the fucking take!
Why'd you bring him? He was
in the fuckin' car when you called.
No, no, no!
Idiot! I haven't got
the memory card yet!
Jack!
Great! Go! Go that way!
Jack!
Jack!
Jack!
Oh, Jack, this has all gotten
way out of hand, hasn't it, mate?
I don't want to hurt you, Jack.
I never have.
You know, there's a lot of money
involved here, Jack.
Enough to go round.
Jack...
(Gunshot)
(Whispers) Ray.
Sorry, Jack...
Bastards!
I'm just Gary's father's lawyer.
I-I-I just came to make sure
Gary'd be OK.
Great fucking work.
Cam, it's Jack.
You don't fancy a trip
down to Tassie, do you?
Yeah.
CAM: Jack!
Well I can say I've seen Tassie now!
Your flight's departure gate's
a couple of paddocks over, brother.
Hope you got me a souvenir!
The penguins.
Stuart went to Phillip Island
to meet Canetti.
Ahh, the luck of the Irish.
That's what they killed Stuart for?
Yeah.
Jack... I'm sorry about the photos.
So what are you gonna
do with it now?
Give it to someone I know.
The recorded confession obtained
by missing, now feared dead,
journalist Stuart Wardle
features electrifying accusations
from Levesque's employee,
the late Gary Connors.
This isn't some
little smack operation
with a few kilos stashed
in statues of the Blessed Virgin -
this is an international business
runs by Americans, ex-army, ex-CIA.
And we were
the Australian arm of it.
CANETTI: OK. And so, for the record,
when you say 'we', who do you mean?
I mean TransQuik, Fincham Air,
Aviation SF, Cross Trice Holdings.
All the way up to Steven Levesque.
Meanwhile, the Attorney-General,
Malcolm Carson,
a long-time Levesque ally,
refused to comment.
Linda Hillier, ABC News.
REPORTER: We cross live now
to our ABC political correspondent
in Canberra...
Hey, Jack, did I tell ya?
Brisbane Lions bloke,
he doubled the offer.
Really?
Yeah.
Yeah, I tell ya, they want
those old pictures pretty bad.
So I've given it a lot of thought.
Bloke wants an answer tomorrow.
And what, Stanley -
and I want you
to think hard about this... Yeah.
..what is the answer?
I reckon I'll tell him to piss off.
Oh... Oh, beauty.
(All chuckle)
Oh, Normy boy...
(All chuckle and chatter amicably)
Psst!
WILBUR: See, they tried
to shut us down in '96...
Was there actually
a Brisbane Lions bloke?
Nah.
Just figure they need a little
heart-starter every now and then.
Yeah.
Keeps me interested.
Yeah, they should be certified.
ERIC: I don't know about certified.
They should be classified.
Did you see it?
Yeah.
I just wanted to say thank you,
again.
Um... I owe you a dinner
at Donelli's sometime.
Depending how you feel about that.
Well, it's not my style
to hold a grudge.
Shame.
Is that you, baby?
Don't call me fuckin' 'baby'.
RACE CALLER: The jockey's
looking everywhere for a run.
There's no run at the moment.
He's trying to get out.
It's Gallery Boy
in front of Zealous Guy.
Now the run comes.
Vision Divine
shoulders his way through.
He's going out
after Gallery Boy and Zealous Guy.
Gallery Boy, Zealous Guy
and Vision Divine.
There's three of them going
to the line, stride for stride.
Vision Divine, Gallery Boy
and Zealous Guy, they get a photo!
Nothing in it. Very, very tight.
Jack 'fuckin' Irish.
Brendan.
I don't know what to say.
It's my pleasure. Really.
I hear
after he gets out of hospital,
that Risky Kirsch
is talking about retiring up north.
Not everyone's suited
to this bracing climate.
RACE CALLER:
Here comes the photo result.
G'day, Des.
Jack.
I've got something for you, mate.
60 grand. It's all there.
It's got blood on it, hasn't it?
Come on, mate. This belongs to you.
Ah, well, I suppose it's only gonna
finish up with the bank anyhow,
so I may as well have it.
So, uh, what do I owe you, son?
What's your fee?
Oh, let's just make it
50 bucks, eh?
Tell you what -
you've done such a great job,
why don't I make it 100?
Why don't we go and make a deposit,
wipe that smirky grin
off the bank's face?
Your on, Bill. You're on.
Come on in.
MELLOW WHISTLING AND UKULELE MUSIC
We are the boys
from old Fitzroy.
We are the boys from old Fitzroy
We wear the colours,
maroon and blue
We will always fight for victory
We will always see it through
Win or lose
We do or die
In defeat, we'll always try
Fitzroy
Fitzroy
The club we hold so dear
Premiers we'll be this year
MELLOW WHISTLING
TO LA MARSEILLAISE
Closed Captions by CSI