Underbelly s02e13 Episode Script

The Loved Ones

Tell your friends and enemies, Chris Flannery's in town.
George Freeman? Chris Flannery.
Expect you've heard of me.
You know the big drug importation everyone's whispering about? PALTOS ON TAPE: Seven tonnes of the best fuckin' hash.
Imagine if we round up all of them and seize seven tonnes of drugs.
I really need this payday, mate.
And I need to make arrangements for the family, you know what I mean? You've got a leak.
Leave him where he is.
We're one step ahead.
We find Terence James Sinclair guilty.
You're never gonna solve this, are you? WARWICK: I won't stop till I get them.
I don't care how long it takes.
Same guy did Mackay.
This 'Fred' killed Donald Bruce Mackay? The High Commission of London have just been contacted by a man who seems to know the whereabouts of Bob Trimbole - wants to talk to you face to face.
SONG: # It's a jungle out there # It's a jungle out there # It's a jungle out there.
# JACQUl: With no chance of seeing his beloved son Jarrod for 20 years, and his fiance Karen Soich now living back in New Zealand, Terry Clark found it hard to cope with prison life.
Oh.
(GASPS IN PAIN) Ah! Oh! (GASPS AND GRUNTS) Oh, shit! Please, please, please Oh! Please, please (PANTS) Terry's father also died young from a heart attack.
The Gisborne pie-seller and the millionaire murderer had more in common than they thought.
(JACK LADDER'S 'TWO CLOCKS' PLAYS) SONG: # 'Cause we are two clocks # Ticking in time # Perfectly aligned # Ticking right on time # And if your hands did move slow, babe # Then that'd be fine # 'Cause I'd wait for you # Like I always do # I'll say a Hail Mary for you, son.
I wouldn't give you two bob for Chelsea this season.
I'm a QPR man myself.
Priest, Australian Federal Police.
I have information that may be of interest regarding Robert Trimbole.
We've had him under surveillance for months.
Why are you following him? We believe he's negotiating with the IRA to supply arms.
You're keeping tabs on IRA targets and he crossed your path? From what we understand, he's acting as a broker - appears to have the gift of the gab.
Sell ice to the Eskimos, our Bob.
Our fee is £20,000, payable in cash.
US dollars preferred.
You mind me asking who you're working for? Not at all.
(GENTLE MUSIC) (ROCK MUSIC) PRIEST: Michael Pious Hanbury in custody in Dublin at the request of the Australian Government.
What did they charge him with? Possession of unlicensed weapons under the Terrorism Act.
How'd they know he had a gun? Or did he have a gun? You think they loaded him up? Well, whatever they did, I hope it stands up under the cold, clear eye of Irish justice.
Because if not, it's gonna jeopardise his extradition.
LIZ: So what do we do in the meantime? We try and cut off Trimbole's cash flow.
We continue tracking Nick Paltos and his hash shipment.
We've identified the vessel carrying the drugs - the 'Gulf Freo'.
Great.
It ran out of fuel off Melville Island.
Had to ferry the gear to Darwin in a fishing trawler - all seven tonnes.
Well, where is it now? In transit, overland to Sydney.
I've done the rounds with the Office of Public Prosecutions.
They say there's no point making arrests until we have a decent chance of securing convictions.
FRANK: Joe, our deal was for information.
I need physical evidence corroborating your story, Frank, or the DPP won't sign off on our deal.
Give me something.
What about the car keys? Fred was supposed to dump the Wilsons' car at the airport, make it look like they'd left town, right? This is the green Toyota Celica? Yeah.
But the lazy fucker leaves it in Fitzroy.
He said he ran out of time.
Well, what was he late for, his mum's funeral? So Bob and I had to drive the car out to the airport on the Monday.
JOE: Which is where we found it.
Bob flies back to Sydney, I dump the keys to the Celica down a drain and I go home.
What drain, Frank? Can you remember? It was five years ago.
Take a crack at finding those keys.
We arrest the gun dealer, George Joseph, he identifies Fred - bingo! Not yet - I want a ballistics comparison between the shells you found at the Mackay murder and the bullets we dug out of the Wilsons.
WARWICK: You reckon the shooter's using the same gun two years later? Creatures of habit, our crims are.
Let's get as many ducks lined up as we can.
You got it.
(SPLASH!) I don't know.
First cloudburst - Port Phillip Bay.
Yeah, but we've gotta try.
JACQUl: A thousand-to-one shot.
But the thing about long shots is sometimes they come home.
Sheer luck.
The keys got caught on a crevice and they'd stuck there through fair weather and foul.
Cleaned up, they fitted the ignition lock of the green Celica, which was still impounded.
When I come back to H Division, I was that bloody crook, you know, I could hardly walk.
You know what they did to me, the screws? Gave youse another flogging.
Yeah, fuckin' whipped in the guts, burst the stitches wide open.
Same as Grafton, mate.
Just trying to break you.
(BIRDSONG) I've got that much hate in me, George.
Listen, you know Mick Sayer? Yeah.
Owes me a hundred g's.
I asked him nicely for it and he told me to fuck off.
(LAUGHS) Tell him to be here tomorrow at 12 noon sharp.
With the money.
(COCO ELECTRIK'S 'APPLE PIE (SKYLAB REMIX)' PLAYS) (GIGGLING) Federal Police! What's in the briefcase, sir? Oh! Settle down, lads.
You can't shake down a bloke in the middle of the street.
Three seconds, motherfucker.
SONG: # It's pretty warm inside # Steady on, Laurie.
(LAUGHS) How was that, Tone? (LAUGHS) Great! Great, lads.
He fucking shit himself.
Yeah, fuckin' did not.
You did, Mick! Fuckin' did not! (LAUGHS) Bang! What do you mean you were robbed? My neighbour got it on camera.
They said they were the Feds.
Did you ask for their ID? I never got the chance, George.
This fuckin' stinks.
Too right, it stinks.
That's 100 g's of my money! My fuckin' money.
You got rolled.
Your problem.
You still owe me.
Get out.
OK.
Good afternoon.
Your turn.
Thousand bucks you miss.
Five grand.
(PHONE RINGS) Keep it interesting.
You're on.
I'll get this call.
Bloody nice shot there, Doc.
(LAUGHS) Thanks.
It's Chris, isn't it? Yeah.
Yeah.
Hey, listen - I hear you got a, er, big deal going on.
of the best shit going round.
How much for a share? Even if I knew what you were talking about, there's no room.
(LAUGHS) Half-share.
You're starting to give me the irrits, Chris.
Am I? I'm starting to give you the irrits, am I? I'm starting to give you the fucking irrits, am I?! Hey, hey I'm giving you the irrits, am I?! Is there a problem? Oh, no.
No problem, George.
Doc? No problem.
You owe the man five grand, George.
You know what? You remind me of myself.
How so? You're a cheeky little shit.
(CHUCKLES) You need to learn some respect, Flannery.
I don't like the way that Mick Sayer ripped me off.
Were you involved? George, no.
He's a mate of yours, isn't he, Mick? Is that you? It's a good likeness.
I can't help it if the bloke's bloody as good-Iooking as me can I, hey? Kill him.
Mick? You want me to kill Mick Sayers? What's going on? They're letting you go.
(LAUGHS) (LAUGHS) Oh! The gun charge didn't stick.
I knew it.
So they tore up our extradition request.
If the first arrest isn't lawful, everything following is null and void.
Why didn't they warn us before they let him go? They warned us afterwards.
They are Irish.
Bob's still in Dublin? Vanished.
But he did call Paltos to see how the big job was doing.
Of course, Paltos told him to shut up 'cause he knows the line's bugged.
Little birdie named Trevor told him so.
There is a way to make the Paltos intercept viable again.
PRIEST: Questions are being asked in high places - why aren't we making arrests? Why aren't we getting convictions? That translates into budget pressure.
And that means we need to tighten our belts, starting with the telephone intercept roster.
False economy, boss.
Warwick, don't waste your breath.
These are the warrants we're proposing to renew and these are to be terminated.
Any thoughts? Nick Paltos! He's our direct link to Bob Trimbole.
Used to be.
But it hasn't produced any decent intel in months.
LIZ: He knows we're listening, Warwick.
He'll get careless, you know that.
When he does, we need to be there.
Can I leave it with you? I've got a plane to catch.
Mick's your second-best mate, yeah? It's business, Laurie.
Oh, what sort of business is it where you knock your second-best mate? George is paying top weight.
Not the point.
Goes against the code.
I'd never fuckin' knock you.
I don't care how much they give me.
Come on.
I gotta pick up the kids.
Yeah, no, you're right, Laurie.
Never knock a mate.
Never knock a mate, mate.
Come here.
Here we go.
Poo-poos.
Have a poo-poo.
Have a poo.
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
Catch a lassie by Hey, Chris.
How's business, mate? Jesus, mate, you're interrupting.
If she squeals Hey, why have one when you can have all three? On me.
On the house.
Girls - Julius Caesar room, chop chop! Go on, fuck off.
(SIGHS) That's very generous of you, Tone.
Well, with Mickey Sayers pushing up daisies, Danny Chubb gone, guys like me get a bigger slice of the cake.
I've got you to thank for that, right? Mate, when Mick went down, I was at the Lapstone Hotel drinking sherry and eating cheese and biscuits and I've got fuckin' witnesses to prove it.
Makes you wonder who's next.
Tone, the Roman Empire is fucking crumbling! And you are looking at the head fuckin' Vandal! (LAUGHS) Hey, hey.
What if something happened to George? We'd all be fucking better off without him, don't you reckon? Why settle for just the drugs? We could take over the casinos, everything.
We could own this town.
The cake gets very fuckin' big without George, Tone.
Very big.
(LAUGHS) (FLANNERY LAUGHS) Very fuckin' big! (JACKSON JACKSON'S 'THE DEVIL IN ME' PLAYS) SONG: # Ooh-ooh # Ooh-ooh # Draw this chain around my neck # The chain that sets me free # Murder in the dark # And no apologies # You remind me now and then # Tell me about Eustace.
# again with you # He's a good bloke.
I'd say he's a top bloke.
I think he's a piece of shit.
# You bring out the devil in me # Bring out the devil in me # Yeah.
Yeah, now you mention it, he don't respect none of us.
# Bring out the devil in me # Ah-ah # Ah # Ah-ah.
# (MAN MOANS) "Am I interrupting anything? " he said, fucking averting his eyes modestly.
You wanted to see me, pal? Mate, I'm, er, looking for a mate.
And here I am.
Things are getting pretty bloody ugly between me and George, Tone.
I'm saddened to hear it, mate.
I gotta lie low now, right? Now, I haven't got a lot of ready cash available, so I'm looking for someone to stake me.
Me? Yeah.
I don't know, mate.
It would only be 20 grand, Tone.
Fucking hell.
It's still a lot of money.
What do you fucking think George is gonna do, hey? He'll be asking me who I've been talking to lately, and you know me - I can only keep my mouth shut for a little while.
Yeah, alright, mate.
(SHAKES HANDS) You won't regret it, Tone.
Mark my words.
(PHONE RINGS) Dr Paltos speaking.
How may I help you? Oh, Nick.
Bob.
How's that little business venture of ours? Are we making any progress? Jesus wept! I'm the guy doing all the bloody donkey work round here and every bastard wants to take a swing at me.
Hey, hey - take it easy, take it easy! What's the matter with you? Sorry, Bob.
I'm sorry, mate.
How are you, buddy? How's your health? Well, this, er, orchidectomy - you know, having myself de-nutted.
I know what you said about stopping the testosterone to the cancerous prostate, but what if it's already spread to the other places? The only way to find out if you've got secondaries is to see an oncologist over there and get the tests done! You know that, Bob.
I can't diagnose you over the phone.
I don't speak bloody Spanish, do I? He's in Spain! Or a Spanish-speaking territory.
And he's got prostate cancer.
Rather advanced, by the sounds of it, poor bugger.
Poor bugger? Ask Don Mackay's widow how she feels about it.
What are his chances? Can we find out? It probably depends on how aggressively it's being treated.
We need to know how long he's got.
If you get to him in time, do you reckon he'll cough everything up? Well, when you know you're dying, confession's a powerful impulse.
And one good confession could blow the whole lid on New South Wales.
Now, did we get anything from Bob's lady friend's home line? Ann-Marie doesn't phone home.
(SIGHS) What else? TERRY: Bloody hell.
You're not well, Bob.
I want you to go home.
Well, I don't wanna go home.
And you can't make me, so stick that in your 'Funk & Wagnalls'.
Piss-weak, Bob.
Jesus Christ! You're like the bad fuckin' fairy.
Cut it out, you bloody galoot! Or I'll strangle you with my bare hands.
We're gonna find you the best doctor in this bloody country and get you treated.
If that means removing your testicle, so what? What's this? The revenge of the women's libbers? You'll be burning your bra next.
(CHUCKLES) Bob.
Oh.
I need to buy some time, love.
Get my affairs in order.
Scrape together enough cash to set you up and the kids, of course.
TERRY: Where do you think Donald Mackay is tonight, Bob? (SNORTS) (SNIFFS) (EXHALES DEEPLY) (SNIFFS) (TURNS OFF ENGINE) Hi, Chris.
Tone.
What happened to the Commodore, mate? Oh, she's at the panelbeater's.
Some fuckin' chick driver What kept you, Tone? You fuck! Arggh! (BANG!) Arggh! Arggh! (STEVIE WRIGHT'S 'DIDN'T I TAKE YOU HIGHER' PLAYS) SONG: # Now, you say you don't know if you still love me anymore # And that you're tired of the same old bag # You're thinking of leaving and it's time # Chris, mate.
# And life's come to be just one big drag # Oh # If you want the credit be my guest.
Shhh.
(BANG!) # Didn't I take you higher? # Didn't I take you higher? # Somebody help me! # Didn't I take you higher? Didn't I take you higher? # Somebody! # Didn't I take you higher? # JACQUl: Unbelievably, Liverpool Tony Eustace took a long time to die.
When the police arrived, they asked who'd shot him and Tony's immortal reply Fuck off.
Are we agreed? LENNIE: Every day goes by, he's a bigger threat.
He'll do things none of you bastards have got the balls to do.
What's to stop him coming after you one day, George? (KNOCKS) I'm just off to my movement class.
Hooroo, darl.
(FRONT DOOR CLOSES) Once he's gone, we can restore order and get back to business.
What else are you gonna do with a rabid dog? KELLY: Exactly.
You put it down, George.
(STARTER MOTOR LABOURS) (STARTER CONTINUES TO STRUGGLE) Problem, Chris? Dunno.
Someone's pinched my bloody distributor cap.
Oh, shit.
You going someplace? Supposed to be going to George Freeman's.
Oh, mate, I'm heading over that way now.
Hop in.
Ah, ta.
JACQUl: It was well known Chris Flannery kept a revolver under the front seat of his car.
Maybe that was the reason for knobbling it.
Now, mate, don't you do anything I wouldn't do, alright? Eh? (BOTH LAUGH) (DOORBELL RINGS) Barry.
In the study.
Wipe your fuckin' feet.
Shut the fuckin' door.
(LAUGHS) Oh, are you doing some renos, George? Don't mind that colour.
Lennie, what the fuck's cooking? Not a lot.
Got a job problem.
Sit down.
This bloke in town is gunning for the big fella here.
George Sawas.
Yeah, I heard of him.
What's his beef? Never mind the beef.
All you need to know is he's a rabid dog.
A rabbit dog? No, not a bunny, you dunce.
A rabid dog.
A dog with rabies.
A mad fuckin' mongrel.
Sawas is a walking arsenal.
You need a very special weapon.
Lennie.
(BEAM UP'S 'UH-HUH' PLAYS) Fuck me! (LAUGHS) Sten Mark 2S.
'S' stands for 'silencer'.
Fires 5409mm rounds per minute.
Magazine holds 30 rounds.
So simple, even a goose like you can use it.
Trigger.
Safety catch.
And this is the end you point.
Fuck you, George Freeman! (GUN FIRES) (MONDO ROCK'S 'COME SAID THE BO Y' PLAYS) SONG: # It was a party night # It was the end of school # His head was feeling light # First time # Come, said the boy # Let's go down to the sand # Let's do what we wanna do # Let me be a man for you # Oh, whoa-whoa-whoa # Oh, whoa-oh-oh # Oh, whoa-whoa-oh # Oh, whoa-oh # It was a party night # Oh, whoa, oh-oh # Ah, it was the end of school # His head was feeling light # Oh, whoa-whoa-whoa # It was the first time # JACQUl: And so it was on 9 May 1985, the man who liked to call himself Mr Rent-A-Kill was wrapped in chains and dumped at sea - executed because he was too bloody good at his job.
(PHONE RINGS) Georgina Freeman.
No, Mrs Flannery, I've no idea where Christopher is.
No, I haven't seen him.
OK.
'Bye.
George, what's happened to the carpet? (MOANS) (GASPS) I found someone who speaks English.
Oh.
And they're getting a doctor to give you some serious pain relief.
No more of this Dr Paltos's magic pills.
Why didn't you deal with this when you had the chance? You're such a coward, Bob.
Oh, what did I ever see in you, huh? Must be my rakish good looks.
Oh.
I'm sorry to have put you through this, love.
Oh, shit.
Where's that bloody doctor? (MOANS) JACQUl: Time was running out for Aussie Bob, and Dave Priest knew it.
His best chance of locating Australia's most wanted man was through Nick Paltos.
With the Lebanese hash shipment finally in Sydney and about to hit the streets, it was now or never.
We estimate the key players imported close to seven tonnes of hashish from Lebanon.
The quality of the merchandise isn't great.
And we think they may be about to flood markets across the country before word gets round.
Top man is Nick Paltos.
He's also the weakest link.
He's never been in custody before.
We expect he'll give up Trimbole's location and the major profit-takers that bankrolled the whole deal.
This is our chance to crack open the whole NSW system and finally get our hands on Trimbole.
LIZ: Er, the aim is to hit them all simultaneously so no-one gets the chance to warn anyone else.
Paltos is doing rounds at Sydney Hospital this morning.
Around lunchtime, he'll be back at his clinic.
He's scheduled an appointment with his accountant, and that's our cue.
Now, teams and targets Er, how can we be so sure of Paltos's movements? We've had a phone tap on him all year, Trevor.
I thought we'd discontinued that.
Mmm.
Never mind.
PRIEST: OK, people, let's do it.
(ONUR ENGIN'S 'BLESS THE FUNK' PLAYS) Trevor! You're with me.
Now.
Let's go.
SONG: # Rhyme so fly # Dress so fresh and I rhyme so fly # JACQUl: They made 40 arrests that day.
Nick Paltos was the prize scalp.
But he was a long way short of being Mr Big.
Even so, it was still the largest drug bust in Australian history.
Cannabis resin, 4.
9 tonnes.
Heroin, 8.
45 kilos.
Cocaine, pills.
You chartered a Greek cargo vessel called the 'Gulf Freo'.
Your name's on the contact.
We can put you in prison for a very long time, Nick.
Where's Trimbole? LIZ: We know that you are not a crook.
You're highly regarded in the community.
You're a good husband.
You're a loving father, Nick.
Gambling's what got you into this mess, isn't it? Don't wreck the rest of your life.
By helping us, you are helping yourself.
Now, you can start by telling us where to find Bob Trimbole.
(SOBS) JACQUl: Although he'd been caught red-handed, in the end, Nick Paltos said nothing, refused to give up anyone, let alone Aussie Bob Trimbole.
The mild-mannered GP wouldn't even utter his name.
(SOBS) Shit! Shit! We know it was Jim Egan of the CIB who tipped off Bob Trimbole.
And we think you tipped him off.
When you joined the police force, you swore an oath.
You promised to protect the people of this state, to serve them, protect them.
You've broken that promise.
We're giving you a chance to make it right.
The first step - tell us about your pals in the CIB who take money.
You're wrong.
You've got the wrong guy.
You can't prove a word of it.
JACQUl: Without sufficient evidence to charge him, Trevor was transferred out of the Joint Police Group and back to the NSW CIB.
And then Dave Priest had a stroke of good luck.
Ann-Marie called her mother last night.
Bob Trimbole's in a Spanish hospital.
A little place called Alicante, using the name Robert White.
You'd better get on a plane, David.
Go.
And good luck.
Now, I'II, er I'll need a recorder, a note-taker Sí.
in case he makes a statement.
Sí.
You speak English, mate? ¿Inglés? No, no, no, Español.
Español.
Oh, Jesus.
Thanks.
You wouldn't know if they've got a priest in this joint, would you? A man needs to get a few things off his chest.
Priest.
¿Ah, sacerdote? Sí, sí, sí, sacerdote.
Excuse me.
Er, you have a patient, Robert White? ¿ Qué? Robert White.
I'II, er I'll write it down, yes.
Robert (TICKING) (MYSTICAL MUSIC) You're not a bloody priest.
You're a murderer.
Takes one to know one, Bob.
No-one's ever convicted me of anything.
By the way, you're not allowed to smoke in the hospital.
You're as bad as me.
Worse.
I never chopped no-one's head off.
You put a man through a meat mincer.
All I did was favours for other people.
Never wanted anyone dead personally.
And that's the God's honest truth.
Amen.
Crap.
Get up.
What? Come on.
Time to go.
I don't want to go where you're going.
Give us your hand, Bob.
I've got things to do people to look after.
Bob.
Time's up.
But I haven't even got any undies on.
Where you're going, you won't need undies.
(EERIE MUSIC) (SPANISH GUITAR FLOURISH) This this man.
Bianco.
Er, Roberto Bianco.
Cinco.
Cinco.
Cinco.
Gracias.
(POIGNANT MUSIC) (QUIETLY) Shit.
Bob? (SOBS) Oh, G Oh, God.
JACQUl: Would Aussie Bob really have turned Crown's evidence if he'd lived? Or would he have toughed it out like his friend Nick Paltos? (WEEPS) Who knows? His death ended one of the most colourful chapters in Australian criminal history.
(SOBS) Mrs Mackay.
Warwick Mobbs.
Thanks for coming all this way.
Uh, please, take a seat.
JACQUl: It was a long time since Donald Mackay was murdered on that cold July night in Griffith.
Not a day went past his widow didn't pray for the souls of his killers.
Mrs Mackay, we wanted to warn you before you see it in the press.
We've made some arrests in relation to your husband's murder.
After all these years? A man called Frank Tizzoni has confessed to arranging it.
His information checks out.
Ballistic reports prove that the gun used to kill Donald was the same weapon used on two drug couriers murdered in Melbourne two years later.
A gun dealer called George Joseph supplied it.
He also supplied the gunman.
I'm a respectable gun dealer! Give me a name or you face the maximum penalty.
James Frederick Bazley.
Where's the body of Donald Mackay? JACQUl: Frank Tizzoni was sentenced to eight years for conspiracy to kill Donald Mackay and the Wilsons.
He was released after 14 months and presented with a tax bill for almost a million dollars.
George Joseph got three and a half years and James Bazley 15.
He was released in 2001.
You were in Griffith all those years ago, weren't you? You promised you wouldn't rest, and you haven't.
Thank you.
JACQUl: The happily married George Freeman continued in business with Lennie McPherson.
But legal casinos in NSW were already on the horizon.
Nick Paltos served his time in prison, then spent the rest of his life as a medical administrator.
Ann-Marie came home to Sydney where she lives to this day.
Laurie Prendergast vanished without trace three months after Chris Flannery was shot dead.
Until next time.
Go safely, Joe.
You two glad you joined up? Of course, sir.
I can think of worse jobs.
Good, because I've got a feeling the war has only just begun.
JACQUl: Dave Priest was right.
By the late 1980s, the illegal drug industry was huge worldwide, second only to oil.
The vast profits fuelled corruption, the corruption fuelled the growth of organised crime, and the rogue elements of the NSWPolice and their mates were in it up to their grubby necks.
But the winds of change were blowing and they only needed one lucky break to point them in the right direction.
But that's a whole different story.

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