Scrublands (2023) s01e03 Episode Script

1
This town really
doesn't like the media,
does it?
Martin Scarsden, SMH.
Uh, not a journo.
Jane Gibson.
Place is different.
Different how?
Weird shit going
down in the scrublands.
Where's Allen?
Jamie, Allen's dead.
He died in the accident.
- Who else have you spoken to?
- Lots of people.
And has the fact
there were two bodies
in the scrublands ever come up?
These murders did
occur only a few weeks
before paedophile priest,
Byron Swift,
massacred five innocent
parishioners almost a year ago.
Help me! Help me!
So now
he's a serial killer?
I'm sorry, but your
opinion of innocence--
It's not my opinion.
I was with Byron
right across the time
that couple went missing.
You were with him?
We were in love.
Sergeant.
You think someone's listening?
You wanted evidence
of a conspiracy.
So why are you
telling me now?
Because it's time
someone found out the truth.
Hallelujah, huh?
That good, was it?
What happened here?
They, uh
They tried to cut out a cancer.
What type of cancer?
Doesn't matter 'cause
there wasn't any.
Hmm.
Mm, don't. Just leave it.
Leave it.
Just leave it.
Hello, Father
Byron Swift speaking.
G'day, Alf.
Yeah, right.
G Give me 30 minutes or so
to scrub up, okay?
All right, I'll be there soon.
You're leaving me
for Alf Newkirk?
I've got a calling, remember?
Mm.
You sure
the numbers are right?
Yeah.
It's got to be
those ferals, mate.
They're skimming it off the top.
Gentlemen.
Yeah. It's good to see
you all again, too.
It's not a bloody
book club, Padre.
You're late.
Righto.
What was so urgent?
Let me tell you,
Max is not happy
with your retraction.
Well, no,
it's not a retraction.
It's a follow up.
Swift didn't kill the couple
I found in the scrublands.
The cafe lady alibied them.
Yeah, 'cause
she was screwing him.
Seriously, Martin,
way to bury the lead.
We need to set
the record straight.
Ah, mate.
Copy doesn’t get any better
than The Thorn Birds.
Beth, please,
just print the facts.
Okay.
Well, can you at least
get an interview
with this Mandalay chick?
She'll be at
Allen Newkirk's funeral
this morning.
Anyway, it's complicated.
Complicated?
What does that mean?
Are you hooking up
with her, too?
Look, I found this
bag at her place,
and I'm pretty sure
Swift stashed it there.
It had a bunch
of clothes, a gun,
a British passport in his name,
a tonne of money.
And then there was
this other photo.
Well, wait. If it was hidden,
how did you find it?
Journalistic instinct.
Old school.
Um, wait, so this other photo?
Swift in combat gear.
Looks like he was in
a squad of some sort,
maybe Australian.
- Any insignias?
- No.
But can you dig around,
see if Swift was
ever in the military,
UK or Aussie?
Yeah, leave it with me.
But you'll owe me one.
Look,
you better make it two.
There's this woman booked
in here under "Jane Gibson,"
and she says she works
for the Bureau of Meteorology,
but she seems a bit um
- A bit what?
- I don't know.
But every time she's around,
I smell bullshit.
Can you run a search
for any Jane Gibsons
at the BOM and in
our police contacts?
Thanks, Beth. Talk soon.
- Hey, Martin.
- Yep?
Look, this article's
about to go online.
If you need to
inform your sources,
you better do it soon.
Yeah, right.
Very soon.
Hey, Doug. I wouldn't bother.
Marty.
G'day, Robbie. Mandy in there?
No media allowed, mate.
Request of the family.
I'm sorry.
Come on. I'm not media.
I was there when Allen died.
Okay.
Why would you tell the police
about you and Byron?
Frannie, I had to.
He couldn't have killed that
couple 'cause he was with me.
- Mandy!
- I'm just
I'm sick of people
attacking him.
He can't defend himself,
and they're making him out
to be some kind of monster.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
How's Jamie?
Still not speaking.
The doctor says
his concussion's easing, but--
At least your son
is still alive.
Kelly.
I just wish that
we'd been left in peace.
They'd never have
done what they did
if that journalist
hadn't stirred them up.
What was he like?
Um Yeah, typical kid.
Get into much trouble?
No. Why?
Ah, they said
some odd things to me.
Made this crack
about getting high.
Thought it might have
come across your radar.
I don't have a radar.
I know everyone in
Riversend personally.
Allen Newkirk was a good kid.
What the fuck!
Okay, Robbie,
you've got to let me in.
I need to talk to Mandy now.
Come on. They already
said it's not possible.
Robbie, please.
How many weeks to go now?
Five.
I don't know where my bladder's
gonna fit by then, though.
What about you, Jase?
You ready?
Yeah, I suppose.
What is it?
What
Mandy.
It wasn't my headline.
But it was your story.
Which you wanted to make public.
And I've uncovered
something else about Byron.
So last night,
after you left,
I found a bag hidden
in that wine cabinet.
I know I shouldn't have been
looking around while you
weren't there, I'm sorry.
But Byron was prepared.
It was a go-bag that he stashed,
so he could leave Riversend
at the drop of a hat.
Fran, can you just
look after him a sec?
I just need to
Hey!
Hey, it's okay.
Ah Miss Bond?
What was your relationship
with the priest really like?
Uh
What first attracted you
to Father Swift?
Uh Go away!
Did you have a sense
that he had a darker side,
that he was capable
of such atrocity?
Back off, Monkton.
And what do you say
to all the grieving widows
and young kids who
have lost their fathers?
Ah! Bloody!
No journalist likes to be
the centre of the story.
But lashing out in
violence has consequences.
Robbie, come on.
- What about Liam?
- What am I going to do, Mandy?
You assaulted him on live TV.
Watch your head.
Watch it.
So that's the process, Alf.
The summons will be
in a couple of weeks,
when the magistrate will
expect him to name the source
of the 100 grammes of marijuana
I caught him with.
Fuck me.
What's your mother
gonna think of this?
Or he can
do the right thing
and just tell me
where he got it.
Allen, where'd you
get the weed, mate?
It's a bit hard
for a young bloke
to rat on his mates, Robbie.
Well, they're hardly mates
if they're getting him
to deal for them.
Hey, Al, why don't you
nick outside a sec
while your dad and I have a chat
to Constable Haus-Jones.
Go on.
You know, if you force
the kid to dob,
his life is gonna be
an absolute misery.
I just can't overlook
this, all right?
If District go through
my day-book,
they'll say,
"Hey, what about this kid?"
"What happened to the charges?"
Well, those pencil
pushers don't know
what it's like to live here,
do they?
Yeah, but it makes it hard
to compromise, all right?
Yeah, it's hard, Robbie.
It takes a certain
kind of effort.
Of course, it's your call.
But you know what
happens if you book him?
Bellington Madge
will convict him,
and he's marked for life.
He's just a kid.
Don't you think we should be
looking after each other?
Come on.
Whip smart boy like this one,
he's going to go places,
aren't you?
Yeah, you've got good numbers,
you've got good ideas.
You might want to send
this one off to uni, Alf.
Yeah, well, you don't need
a diploma to drive a harvester.
Mate. Hey.
Here, look me in the eye.
You're better than this, Al.
Yeah?
- Yes, Father.
- Yeah.
You stay away
from that stuff, okay?
It only lead you to bad places.
I've seen it before,
Constable Haus-Jones
has seen it before,
and we do not want
it happening to you.
Yeah? Look.
Yes, Father.
All right.
You won't get many more chances.
Yeah, I'm leaving
Bellington Police Station now.
Thanks for looking
after him, Fran.
No, no, I'll get a taxi.
Yeah, okay. Thanks.
Hell of a straight right.
Did I teach you that?
I don't remember you
teaching me anything.
You need a lift?
It's your favourite
mixed lollies?
Snakes and jubes
and some freckles.
Can you just focus on driving?
Sure.
Guess I really don't know
much about you any more.
Favourite foods,
favourite music,
relationships.
Yeah, well, you don't need
to know me for that.
You can just read
Martin's article.
Everyone else has.
Imagine it must have
been tough for both of you.
You and the priest.
Secrecy
the moral complexities.
I suppose that kind of pressure
can bring you close together.
What you got there?
This is maybe about
300 million-years-old or so.
See, on this side,
it's smooth.
Now, you turn it over,
it's still got
all its rough edges.
A two-faced stone.
Two-sided stone.
A stone with a lot of history.
You being metaphorical, Byron?
What is the rock if not God?
Don't try and blind me
with your Bible science.
Keep it.
Smile.
What the fuck?
Jesus! I'm not stupid.
I wasn't going to
put it on Facebook.
There any others?
I'm sorry.
Hey Hey, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I just
I overreacted.
You know that weekend
that we've been talking about?
Mm?
What are you doing
over New Year's?
Are you trying to bribe me?
I think so.
My shout.
Good. I'm gonna bankrupt you.
I'm a priest.
I'm already bankrupt.
Don't do that again.
I would never.
Oh, for fucks sake.
Ah, yes!
Beth Ramachandra
Beth!
So what did you find on Swift?
Nothing. Nada.
No Byron Swift has ever served
in the British or Australian
military either.
And the BOM didn't have
anything on a Jane Gibson.
I checked
the journo's union, Vicpol,
New South Wales Police
and licensed investigators.
Nothing.
Back to the military
thing, though
It might be a long shot,
but I got the number
for a lawyer with Defence
who's done
a couple of inquiries.
I'll send you her details.
You should be out on the field.
Hey, I Googled
the motel you're staying in.
I didn't actually
realise it was possible
to get minus five stars,
so yeah, I'm happy here.
Thanks.
Yes?
Ms Coulson?
This is Martin Scarsden from
the Sydney Morning Herald.
I'm out in Riversend,
investigating a priest
named Byron Swift.
What's that
to do with me?
Well, I understand you're in
military investigations,
and I was wondering if--
Sorry, can't help you.
Hello
you've called Lilly Coulson.
Leave a message.
Ms Coulson, it's me again.
I think maybe we got
cut off or something.
Could you give me a call back?
Meat raffle, five bucks.
Got rissoles this week!
Yeah, but they're
last week's rissoles.
Ah!
The great investigative journo.
"Killer priest, secret lover."
Huh!
I thought I was a tabloid hack.
Mate, we are not here to help.
We're here to tell it straight.
And that's hard sometimes, sure.
But that's the life we chose.
So
How'd you enjoy the wake?
It's not the word I'd use,
but tragic, really.
And photogenic, apparently.
How about
your "climate studies"?
Making heavy weather of it?
Patterns take a while to emerge.
Yeah, I know what you mean.
Sometimes it takes days, weeks,
for a story to come together.
It can be so close, you know,
arranging all the pieces.
But something's still missing.
Like how you're involved in
this whole Byron Swift thing.
I'm not.
Come on, Jane.
What are you?
Police Professional Standards?
Federal government?
Some special task force?
Just here for the weather.
Sure, you are.
Sure, you are
Now that you mention it,
how's your article going?
Oh, it's a veritable onion.
Layer upon layer.
Your West Papuan mate, Lukas.
Must be tough on his wife
Alani?
That's her name, isn't it?
Five children, husband murdered
and thrown into a tailings dam.
Good to see
you've moved on though,
got back to your journalism.
But one day,
might be you that gets hurt.
I can't believe
Allen's gone.
Hey, kids.
Pretty sad day, huh?
You guys know Allen?
No shit. It's a small town.
Al-Pal ruled, man.
Oh, God!
- What is that? Skunk?
- Hydro.
No bush bud around here any more.
Used to be tonnes of it.
What, growing around here?
They don't call it
"shrubland" for nothing.
Hey, could I buy your sim?
What?
Hundred bucks.
I'll drop it in
your account right now.
My sim's got all
my contacts in it.
You could call my friends,
pretend to be me.
Well, wipe it.
Just delete anyone
you don't want me to have.
Do it, Bree.
Delete them all.
I'll resend them to you.
Do it? 150.
Cash.
This whole bloody town
runs on cash.
Thanks.
Cheers.
No way!
What the fuck!
Oh, my God.
How much bud can
we buy with this, guys?
Hello,
you've called Lilly Coulson.
Leave a message.
Ms Coulson
This is Martin Scarsden.
Byron Swift isn't showing up
on any military searches,
and that interests me.
I understand you might have
had a problem with my phone,
but this is a new number.
So, if you're concerned that
our calls may not be private,
I'd call me back quickly,
before this number's found.
Please.
I'm not going away.
You got a second for me
to run something by you?
Yeah, yeah. Sure.
I think someone
in town had a crop.
Oh, that's a scoop.
What are we talking?
Wheat, barley, cotton?
Dope, Robbie.
I was just down by the river
and these kids
were smoking weed,
talking about Allen Newkirk
and how great he was.
They said they
used to get bush bud,
which could mean, like,
a proper crop somewhere nearby.
They made this crack
about the "shrublands,"
which has got me thinking,
if there were a crop
in the scrublands,
and then that couple were
killed in the scrublands,
and just a few weeks
later the massacre
it's like everything
almost connects.
But it's got me wondering if
Byron knew about the crop.
Because it seems to me
that he was alert to things.
You know?
He was clued in
to the community,
to the kids.
If there was a crop,
and Byron knew about it,
I can't see how the only cop
in a small town
could have missed it.
As you said
you know everyone personally.
Fuck.
Allen, what are you doing, mate?
Jesus, fucking--
Get over here where
I can see you, please.
Jesus Christ, Robbie.
Do we need the fucking gun, man?
Fuck.
I don't think this can be
defined as personal use, can it?
It's not mine. I found it.
Will you Will you put
the gun down, please.
Come on.
- Jesus!
- Come on.
Hope the safety's on, Robbie.
What are you doing here?
I'll show you.
Hey, Al,
you better nick off back home.
And Allen
You're running out
of chances, mate.
Well, obviously
you're under arrest.
No, no, that's not
going to work out.
Just give me a sec, all right?
Robbie.
I don't believe this.
Seriously.
Just take a seat, mate.
So this is where
all the money's come from.
The air conditioner
for the school,
the sporting equipment.
There were never any
generous parishioners.
People want good deeds, Robbie.
Good works.
But they're not going to accept
this as a means to it, are they?
People trust you.
As they should.
Mate, when I first came here,
I did everything I could
to raise money the usual way,
but it was a drop in the ocean
to what Riversend needed.
It was maintenance at best--
So you planted a marijuana crop?
No.
The crop predates me, Robbie.
I just
I improved it a bit.
Look, when I first found it,
I felt just like you, Robbie.
I thought it was wrong.
I thought it was immoral.
And I thought,
"Look, here is an actual
chance to do some good."
It's against the law.
Who else is going to bail
Riversend out, mate?
Hmm? The government?
The state? Diocese?
All the private money we've got
lying around the place?
Come on.
Byron, I--
I just can't look past this.
I mean, fucking look at it.
Seriously.
The stuff that this has bought,
this community has given
these kids a sense of purpose.
It's given them something to do.
You've seen it yourself.
They go to school now,
they play sport.
They've finally got a sense
of community, Robbie.
Mate, I know this is hard, okay?
But you managed to look
past Allen's dealing,
find compassion.
But this is different.
Only in scale.
Look, we both do what we do
for the same reasons, Robbie.
Yeah, to make the difference
in these people's lives.
I've found peace with it.
I've prayed,
I've sought guidance.
And I know that this is
what I'm meant to be doing,
helping these people,
helping these kids, Robbie.
I'm at peace.
Hey.
I know you can be too.
Hmm?
Well, you obviously
never booked him for it.
Why not?
He said his next harvest
was gonna be his last.
So.
And did you believe him?
Well, I said
I wouldn't say anything,
and I didn't,
because I'm a good bloke.
When was the last
time you were here?
Yeah,
only been that once.
He burnt it?
Well, somebody did.
How many
plants were there?
A shitload, mate.
Shit.
The hippies van.
Someone rammed them.
Look.
A bullet hole.
Maybe Byron was involved.
I I could've saved them.
If I'd stood up to Byron,
taken him in
Loved him
like a brother.
Wish I never fucking met him.
Yeah, that's, um
very tasty.
Thank you.
Uh, you're welcome.
Mandy, I've
I've got to ask you
about what happened.
I don't know.
Hopefully I won't go to jail.
He was ugly before I hit him.
No.
Not the journalist,
Byron Swift.
How'd you get
tangled up with him?
You mean with all
the other prospects
beating down my door?
Well, I mean
You two were close.
He's dead.
What does it matter?
You didn't hear any
rumours about him?
Can we talk about
something else?
Of course.
So, how's business?
Journo's have pushed up trade,
but, um, all the same,
I can't wait for them to go.
It's a bit of a hand-to-mouth
future for you.
You know, you could be
out at Springfields with me.
Ah, look, I know I haven't
always been there for you--
Uh, you've pretty much
never been there for me.
Yeah.
Yeah, I know
I've made some mistakes.
And not just me.
You always thought
Mum was beneath you.
You want to talk about Byron?
He was here when she was sick.
But you
You never showed up.
Yeah.
Well, like I said,
I made mistakes.
That's the past.
That beautiful
little boy of yours
That's the future.
Mandalay.
Be careful who you trust.
Martin Scarsden is a journalist.
He's got his own agenda.
And that is always
gonna come first.
Mandy!
Don't do that.
I've got some answers.
If I said I don't care,
would it make a difference?
I was just out in the scrublands
and there is this
weed crop out there.
Well, the remains of one.
Someone torched it,
but it was big.
So?
It's Byron's, Mandy.
That's how he funded
all his good deeds.
How do you know he had
anything to do with it?
A source
A totally reliable source
who saw him out there
tending to the bloody thing.
And
I don't even think Byron Swift
was his real name.
Right.
Okay.
Deep down I knew
something was wrong
That he was hiding something.
But I ignored it 'cause
I loved him.
And I thought he loved me.
I'm so stupid.
No.
No, he fooled everyone.
But he wasn't who
you thought he was.
I'm sorry.
I asked you to
find out the truth.
I can hardly complain.
That's a good story.
But it's not just a story to us.
I think it might be
time you left.
Um
Who the fuck were you?
Oh, Sergeant Piccini?
Yeah, it's Constable Haus-Jones
from Riversend.
You You got a moment?
Ms Coulson?
Thanks for phoning back.
No more calls
from here on.
Okay.
I can meet you in Sydney,
Canberra, wherever you want.
I'll come to you.
I'll text you a meeting
place in the morning.
Jesus! Are you alright?
I-I Yeah, I'm alright.
Once upon a time
this was a nice place to live.
Does that work?
Yeah.
Yeah, you can come with me.
Right.
Not even my blind nan could miss
with the scope like that.
Somebody sends
me a warning shot.
I know I'm getting close.
Who to?
Okay.
Farmer.
Farmer.
Mechanic.
Shopkeeper.
Accountant.
Okay. What's the link?
What's the link?
It's not a bloody
book club, padre.
You're late.
Righto.
What's so urgent?
We need to talk
about our crop-sitters.
- What about them?
- They're stealing from us.
I've gone into
the sales and inventory.
We're 10,000 down
on the last run.
We're already 6,000 down
on the next one.
Bloody ferals.
I knew you couldn't trust them.
Doesn't help that
your kid's been snipping buds.
Don't talk about my son.
Craig's the one that
hired the hippies.
Oh, who cares about that?
They're stealing from us--
We're bleeding money.
It's not sustainable.
And it's a fucking
stupid van too.
I told you we couldn't
trust those ferals
as far as I could throw 'em--
Yeah, well, it wasn't you
that got off your fat fucking
ass to find these couriers,
so shut your mouth.
Where are they now?
They're around.
I saw them out in
the Viaduct Road yesterday.
Waved at me like
nothing was wrong.
They're treating us
like idiots, Craig.
Right.
I'll deal with them.
What's that supposed
to mean, Craig?
I'll fire 'em,
find us new couriers.
As you like to say, Padre,
"We've all got jobs to do here."
So now that we got that sorted,
what are we gonna do about him?
What about me, Craig?
You know what
I'm referring to.
You brought a cop in on this.
What the hell
was that all about?
I think you lot ought
to be grateful--
How is the balls
on this prick?
I told you,
he's a fucking liability.
Robbie followed your boy
out to the crop, Alf.
Now, we all know
he's already been nicking
a few buds here and there
for his own purposes.
So let's not be so quick to
judge the so-called "ferals,"
shall we?
I was out there at the time,
doing the sprinklers, okay?
So, no.
I didn't "bring Robbie in,"
as Craig is putting it.
Anyway, I've spoken to him
and he completely understands.
Understands what?
He understands
it's a community venture
making money for the town.
Oh, that is a bunch
of pious shit
you just thought up yourself.
What is it then, Craig? Hmm?
What is it you want
me to tell Robbie,
that you're doing
with all that money?
You don't think he's already
seen you spend up big
on that big-dick-swinging
ute of yours?
We all know you fancy yourself
a bit of a red-neck mafia mate,
don of the scrublands,
but unfortunately, I think that
role might be already taken.
Look, the worst thing
we can do right now is panic.
Okay?
We're all getting what
we want out of this.
It's under control.
Robbie is a good lad.
He trusts me
and he will do exactly as I say.
Now have yourselves
a nice afternoon.