Rake (2010–2018): Season 3, Episode 4 - Episode #3.4 - full transcript
There's a big 'For Sale' sign...
Yes - we're open for inspection in 15.
You're never to set foot
in this house again!
Let me give the bride away.
I'm a legal pariah,
and your stupid fucking film's
only gonna make matters worse.
Tikki Wendon's superbly imaginative
plan to build an edifice...
By 'edifice', you mean 'casino', right?
How much did I win? 160 grand.
Marcel's, I'm in. 150 you said, right?
I can have a bank cheque
for you tomorrow.
Oh, no, I did not mean 'Reply all'.
I did not mean 'Reply all'!
Teatime.
Hit the floor,
or I'll blow your head off!
Got time for a cuppa, boys?
Well, I wouldn't say no. Thanks, Rod.
Colder than a nun's out there.
I got some of Denise's fruitcake here.
I told her you'd be popping in.
How's young Ryan going, mate?
Getting excited?
Mm. I've been showing him road maps
of where we'll be staying along the way.
Very excited, I think.
See that dog's breakfast of a game
on Saturday?
Burgess had his hand under it. No
way did that ball touch the grass.
You could see all that
from the stand, could you?
Well, yes,
you could've seen it from Mars.
You comfy?
I'll give you blokes ten minutes,
then I'll hit the panic button.
Make it 15. I gotta water the horse.
Like emptying a full bath, these days.
Regards to Denise and Ryan, mate.
They're on the wrong bloody level.
Hello?
Can I help you?
Whoo! Fuck yeah!
What kind of fucking place doesn't
do vodka shots with quinoa?
Fuck! Calm down, Paulie!
No fucking activated almonds? Am
I fucking...? Am I asking too much?
Calm down. Am I?
Activated almonds?
Where am I, Lobotomy Central?
I thought you wanted sex.
Oh, I do.
11 long months of gruelling handwork.
It's open slather here.
Yeah.
I'm a fool for a chinwag, though.
Preferably something that doesn't
involve the letters O-M-G or L-O-L.
Whoo! Is it?
I love this shit!
Ever read any Balzac?
Who?
Oh... Don't worry - neither have I.
But I'm thinking
maybe tonight's the night.
Bang, bang, bang!
Why do you hang around
with this fucktard?
I'm a merchant banker. He's Paul Wendon.
Stepson of the second richest woman
in the country.
In 2009, there was 15 degrees
of separation between me and Tikki.
That there is one degree.
Didn't happen to bring your mum,
did you?
Who's there? Who's...?!
Welcome, welcome!
Kids! Come and say hello
to Nicole and baby Iain. Come on.
Hi, Nicole. Hi, Iain.
Hi. Hi.
Nicole's gonna be staying with us
until she finds herself a place
and until Daddy gets back
to his old self, OK?
Where's Iain's dad?
Hello, Maria.
Oh. Hello, Barney.
Uh, Mum, this is Scarlet. Hello.
Oh, Scarlet! Hello!
Oh.
She said it's very nice to meet you.
It's lovely to meet you, too.
OK, let's get you settled.
Um, and then we've got to take
Barney to the hospital.
Come on, kids. It's alright.
Let's show them their room.
I'll grab those... No, no, no, no.
- Yeah?
- Hey, you. It's me.
Shoshanna tells me I have
an hour break in my diary.
I thought you might like
to come join me for breakfast.
Uh, what is the Shoshanna?
Is that a bedspread?
Are you interested or not? Not.
I'm, uh, having a power breakfast
with some clients.
OK, well, do you have your diary handy?
Yeah.
Uh, well, I've got an appalling run
of stuff this week.
Um, Friday?
No. Unless Shoshanna
can triage my diary.
Do what to your diary?
It's an expression.
No, no, no, no. 'Triage my diary'
is an abuse of the language.
Friday's no good for me anyway.
My own diary passed away
with renal failure last week
surrounded by loved ones.
You are still pissed off with me
about the damn film, aren't you?
What? What are you talking about?
I wasn't awake for long enough
to have an opinion.
Look, I don't want
to say goodbye like this.
I have to go back to the States soon
to finish my novel.
A novel! Do tell!
It's just hit me - you're jealous.
No, worse - envious.
The poison side of jealousy.
I've gone out and I've made a career
and a name for myself
and you are a still-life study
of self-indulgent failure.
Oh, and you are the Kim Kardashian
of the literary world.
OK, no, no.
You are a morbidly obese woman
who sheds 100 kilos
and then writes a book.
A novelist! Come on!
Why don't you go get fucked?
Oh, so Friday's off, then?
Goodbye, Cleaver.
Good luck with the whole Tolstoy thing.
So you didn't see nothing suspicious?
Everything was 100% normal.
Right, Vern?
Yeah. Yeah, it was
a very ordinary night.
We had a cuppa, some cake.
Who would do this to Rod?
Oh, if I could get my hands
on that scum...
Vernon Arnold Walters
and Phillip Ryan Granter,
we are arresting you on suspicion
of the murder of Rodney Howley.
Eh?
Last round, darling, and then it's over.
The kids wanted to come up
but I thought it was best...
No, no, no. A little later.
Yeah. When it's all over.
Yeah. Hey, how'd it go with Ryan?
Uh, he's still waiting
on two of the Braybrook statements.
Oh, we should get going, then.
Hey, come here.
Hey...
So...
You should go.
You know she hates to be kept waiting.
So she's...
The first one, Scarlet,
she's still your wife?
Mm-hm.
And Nicole is...
..you have a child with her, do you?
Mm-hm.
And they both work together?
And you all live in the same house?
Mm-hm, we do.
Chemo's beginning
to look relatively easy, then.
Mm-hm.
This State doesn't need another casino.
I'm sorry, but this is
an emotional issue for me, alright?
My old man, straight as a die, a banker,
shot through because of gambling.
Came home from school one day...
and he wasn't there.
Mm. It's a moving story
but I wouldn't say any of that
at the party meeting.
No, that is way too loser-y.
If you don't mind me saying.
We have a choice here. Alright?
A facility surrounded
by a small nature reserve
with a place for disabled kids,
for old people.
Maybe even a small zoo.
Or we can just give over the land
to another bloody casino
for Tikki Wendon.
We have a zoo. How often do you go?
You've seen one giraffe...
You've seen 'em all.
Let's put out a poll.
No, no, no, no. No, no.
No poll, alright?
That is my decision - no to a casino.
And you think caucus will support you?
Yes, I think both of them will.
I think we can knock out
a poll by Friday.
Earlier. Yeah.
What's with that shit about his dad?
As you know, usually at this time,
we're privileged to have the company
of the wonderful Tikki Wendon
to discuss the world
of business and finance with us.
But last night,
this great Australian entrepreneur,
employer of thousands,
suffered a personal tragedy.
Her offices were broken into,
robbed and vandalised.
I even read
an unconfirmed report on the net
that said Tikki herself
was threatened at knifepoint.
Now, she's apologised
for not being with us today,
but, friends, if I know Tikki,
she's undeterred.
She's ready to right this
fundamentally un-Australian wrong.
Now, this is an attack
on Australian business.
This is an attack on our way of life.
For every dollar
that TWE invests in this country,
we citizens earn four.
Now, I'm no champion of big business,
as you know,
but for God's sake, people,
Tikki Wendon is one of the good guys.
Where the hell is he?
Morning, Tik. Rene.
Paul.
So, what's the damage?
Took about 15 laptops
and smashed the mainframe.
Jesus. God only knows
what they've taken.
Everything's backed up. There's
no real problem. They caught them.
Yeah, but what's on those computers?
You know, and they got at the mainframe.
It's all encrypted.
Nothing happens on this floor
of any consequence.
Which is why you are working here.
Still, you know,
something might have,
um, leaked out or...
Like what?
I don't know.
Of all the departments of all the groups
of all the companies in this city,
they had to break into yours.
Tik, come on, that's...
Paul, the only reason
I tolerate your presence here
is because your father
is still a great root
and, for reasons
beyond my comprehension,
he seems to be fond of you.
Well, I guess... Ha!
Rene, darling, get this lot out of here.
I don't need them
prodding around my business.
And then I want you to find out who
they arrested and why they broke in.
I want to know
what happened here last night.
Nicole! Nicole!
Busy!
I can't make head or tail
of this Michael Thornton file.
This is the second attachment
for the Braybrook files.
Did he insert the device into his anus
before he went to the store
or after he arrived at the store?
It's Thornton Michael,
it's not Michael Thornton.
And that second one
is for the Land Commission...
Oh. Oh.
His parents called him 'Thornton'?
No wonder the man's
got psychological damage.
See, that could be our defence
right there.
Sorry, do you mind?
I have a huge session today.
It's panic stations, so you can
have Nicole when I'm through,
if I get through.
Because if he popped it up his pooper
before he went to the store,
it'll obviously
play differently in court...
This is not working for me!
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for a hundred things.
I'm sorry you never made silk.
I am sorry that
all your ex-clients prefer me.
I am sorry that you can't get a gig
on the Commissions, but I did try.
Oh, yes, yes, I'm sure minutes
of exhaustive toil went into that.
OK, I didn't try.
I don't want you anywhere near
my Hearings Commissions.
I'm sorry. I know what you're like.
Oh.
You grandstand, you'll undermine me
and you'll just get in my road.
Scarlet Engels's chambers.
And Cleaver Greene's chambers.
No! No more! Yep, yep, she's on her way.
Now, you can keep your chambers down
there for another couple of weeks
and then you're on your own.
You might want to tell me
when I haven't been.
And the same applies to Nicole.
She works for me now.
So, will you please leave?!
Fuck off!
Still inserted.
It's what he attacked
the shop assistant with.
It was pretty ugly, really.
Lovely. Mm.
Thank you.
And you shouldn't
have antagonised her like that.
You have to handle her with kid gloves.
Ooh. Cracks already appearing
in the love walls.
This is a short-term measure
to take the strain off him.
Yeah. All three of you
in that one little nest.
Poor sick old Barney in the middle.
That's a special circle of hell.
Felicity.
I couldn't find your number anywhere.
Uh, yes, sorry about all the... this.
I was... I'm getting
the whole thing redone.
It was very old-fashioned.
I'm taking on some more people.
Hello. I'm Nicole,
I'm one of his 'more people'.
Ah. Would you like a coffee?
Uh, no. Thank you.
I need your help. OK.
Nicole. Mm.
Uh, could you... triage my 12 o'clock?
Yes. Almost too easy.
Some people I know,
old friends of Malcolm's,
they really were very good to him,
they've landed themselves in
some pretty serious legal trouble.
I said you might help.
So you broke into the building
to steal what? A desk?
But then you didn't, and then you left,
and now you're charged with murder.
Well, that's pretty much
how it happened.
Right, but-but you say that you did
threaten and tie up the guard.
Tied him up, yeah, never denied that.
And then he was shot,
but you say you didn't do it.
No. Don't own a gun.
You were holding a gun on the monitor.
That was a toy.
OK. So, uh... did you know this guard?
Uh, I never met him. Phil?
You work with him.
Might have seen him about.
Do you know how many people
work in TWE Towers?
There's more than 2,000. OK.
So you're in the building,
wearing tea-cosies on your head,
holding a toy gun,
like the Penguin
about to break into the masked ball,
but then you didn't steal anything.
Why not?
Conscience.
When we got in there, we realised
that there's no future in crime.
None. None at all.
There's not much of a future
in that story, either, fellas.
Come on, you're gonna
have to throw me a bone here.
We didn't shoot him.
I'm not gonna get through this, am I?
Yes, you will.
You're paid to say that, aren't you?
Yeah. Not nearly enough.
Did you know the chance of life,
any life, on this planet
is 0.00000001
that anything exists?
Elephants, plants, dogs,
amoeba, tapeworms.
Yeah. Incredible.
Cats, budgerigars,
those little beetles
that only appear at Christmas.
The fact that we exist
is so totally random
the idea that any human life
is important is absurd.
Don't tell my mother that.
She's a Catholic.
Cancer often provokes
these sorts of questions.
Life and meaning.
No, it provokes questions
of utter meaninglessness.
Why have I brought another
random child into this world?
And now I'm gonna leave him
and my other kids
without ever knowing how they turn out.
Try not to worry.
You aren't gonna solve it.
Just get yourself better.
Sit on the beach
with your beautiful kids,
have a good glass of red.
You'll kind of remember
what it's all about.
I suppose I have to go home.
Would you prefer to stay the night,
if I organised it?
Yeah.
I feel as if I'm standing
on the edge of an abyss.
My wife has left me
for her Zumba instructor.
I... I feel that only Wendy can help me.
Thank you so much. 4:30?
Marvellous.
Mason. James Mason.
Thank you. I shall triage my diary.
What the fuck is this?
I am so proud of you for finally
coming to terms with your sexuality.
I mean, that is...
that is a huge step, you know?
And I think it's absolutely right
that you acknowledge that to yourself
and, uh, maybe to family,
but... I just...
..I wonder about the wisdom
of coming out on The Footy Show.
Well, I'll be there anyway
for the handball competition.
Mm... I...
I don't... I don't know if those
two ideas are really connected.
You know? I just...
Tell you what,
can we hold off on that decision
until after our session next week,
do you think?
Yeah, sure, yeah. Yeah?
Let's do that. OK.
Well done.
OK, I'll see you next week.
Thanks a lot.
Oh. Great. I knew it.
Minute Libby told me that James
Mason wanted to see me,
I knew it was you.
Please go away. Nanette. John.
L-let me explain
about the other night. OK?
First of all, Roger attacked me.
I never hit him.
No, but you tried to.
And if Roger wasn't such
a magnificent physical specimen,
you might have actually connected.
As it was, he subdued you
in front of your son and my guests.
I admit I was emotional.
You lunged at me in front of my fiance.
And you sold the family home
without telling me.
You did. And that home was a half mine.
No! No! Yes.
No, no, no. 20 years ago,
you stumped up the 10% deposit
because of an unexpectedly
slow track on Derby Day -
all of the other payments
were made by me.
You know, the time you spent in prison
was the most peaceful time
I have ever known.
The moment you get out, chaos reigns.
Come on. Come on.
Come on, darlin'.
It's not... I'm not the bad guy.
No. Cleave, we don't use
the term 'bad people'
in my profession, alright?
You are a developmentally arrested,
infantile, dysfunctional narcissist.
And I don't want to see you. OK?
The era of the casual drop-in is over.
Oh, fucking... great!
So, Vernon and Phil
have been with you here for 16 years
and nobody can tell me
anything about 'em?
Well, they kept to themselves.
Yeah.
So, nobody ever said
'Hello, do you have kids, Vernon?'
Ah! I think they both like
tenpin bowling.
Ah.
Right.
OK, what about the security guard?
He's been here sitting at the same
desk every night for 20 years.
Nobody ever accidentally tripped over
and said hi?
No. No.
Maybe once.
Oh... twice.
But I tell you this -
they did not kill him, no way.
Right. OK.
And you know that because of their
purported love of tenpin bowling?
Yeah.
Do you ever go to the football,
look at the crowd, and think,
'Everyone here at some point
is gonna die'?
You gotta stop barracking
for Parramatta, mate.
That could well be
the cause of your cancer right there.
There is no bloody order,
no such thing as fate,
just the certainty it'll get you.
Mm. Jesus. Think I preferred
your mindless optimism to this shit.
We're alone, mate.
That's what I realise now.
No, we're not.
No, we're not.
We look after each other, don't we?
You know...
..to my mind,
our friendship really comes to life
in the courtroom, doesn't it?
Hey?
I mean, how many people's destinies
have we saved over time?
83 rapists, 61 drug dealers,
12 murderers,
a dog fucker...
And how good did it make us feel?
You know, I got a really juicy
little murder just now.
Two sweet old guys, no alibi...
Cleave... I can't.
What?
I wasn't asking you for anything.
See you, Barnabas.
'Candice hugged the plane blanket...'
Cradled. No - hugged.
Jet plane. All planes are jets.
'..like it was the lover
she had just...'
No. Just.
Only.
'..only just... only just left at JFK.'
Heathrow? Paris. Rome.
Roma. Make it a train.
Gardermoen. Prague.
Everybody bloody leaves from Prague.
Budapest.
Don't know anything about Budapest.
I do. Two cities - Buda and Pest.
What?
I may have been a tad off-message
when we spoke last time.
Really? You think? Off-message?
A morbidly obese Kim Kardashian?
Only in the literary sense.
Come on, can I make it up to you?
No. That would be impossible.
Oh, come on, let me try.
Triage your diary one last time.
Lunch. On me. Yeah?
Come on, I will make it up to you.
Promise.
Where is everybody?
Tuesdays are notoriously quiet.
Well, if Tuesdays are quiet,
Fridays are...
Do you ever have a busy day in here?
Please.
Ah.
So... how is every little thing?
Fine. Thanks for asking.
Welcome.
Ooh.
These walnuts were grown
in the Hunter Valley.
Marcel has taken the meat of the walnut
and fused it with Tasmanian truffle oil,
shaved fennel grown in his own garden,
and an infusion of herbs
and aged Benedictine,
served on a lime and beetroot smear.
Enjoy.
Ah.
Incredible, huh?
What happened to the whole
'I don't care if the walnut
is a lesbian crack whore
served on a Pap smear' rant?
Come on, you've gotta keep up
a little bit.
OK? This is... This is diff...
This is food as art. Alright?
It's like an installation.
Tracey Emin
would understand this walnut.
And you accuse me of being a wanker?
Come on, look,
I didn't come here to argue. Alright?
You told me I was a fraud.
Another starter, compliments of Marcel.
Organic tomato,
fused with lime pith and quince,
roasted over a 490-degree flame
for six seconds...
Again, with complimentary...
You, who have never put yourself
on the line for anyone...
Served with spelt millet loaf
and garden arugula
with pronounced astringent nuts.
Is anybody paying
for shit in this place, mate?
Sometimes I wonder if you know
what that word 'friend' even means.
I know what it means. Alright?
Why did you even invite me here?
What? Come on.
Hmm?
You have got to be fucking joking. What?
You're going away. Who knows
when we'll see each other again?
I need closure.
Don't you need closure?
Hmph.
Hmm?
Hmm...
Mm?
Excuse the symbolism,
but for old time's sake...
Mm.
Organic tomato,
infused with
self-indulgent, abject failure.
Consider yourself closed.
Here you go, take it easy.
Nicole? We're back.
Hey. Hi.
Oh, no, no, not in that chair.
He needs support for his back.
Right.
Hey?
Here you go.
Here you go. Easy, easy.
Here, I made some vegetable broth.
Oh, good. It looks a bit gluggy.
Well, it was fine
half an hour ago, so...
Oh. We'll sort it out
when we get home from work, hmm?
Alright.
You just relax.
Bye. Bye.
Hey, Cleave.
I'm right to come back to work.
The prosecution's case
consists of actual footage
of Abbott and Costello
breaking into the building.
Um... Phil then takes his mask off
to catch his breath,
and then remembers
and pulls it back on again.
Vernon takes a toilet break
holding a gun.
Are you OK?
Dying. But I suppose we all are.
Then there's a nice shot
of a licence plate on the ute
as it enters the building.
A ute which is registered to Phil.
Basically the entire defence case
at the moment
consists of me saying,
'I don't believe they did it.'
They didn't. Should you even be up?
It's safer for him here
than it is at home.
It is.
Now, look, you contacted me
because you said these blokes
were friends of Mal's.
Is there any other connection
I need to know about?
In my world,
friends of family are friends.
I realise your world
doesn't work that way,
not if you're willing to drag a
dying mate in here to help you out.
You were born and grew up in
the same area as these guys, though.
A lot of people are born in my area.
It's a working-class suburb.
We breed more
than people from leafier suburbs.
Oh, what is this, Paris 1968?
It's not a fucking class war.
My old man ran a hardware store.
His old boy...
What did your old...?
He didn't do anything too flash.
Now, look, you asked me to help you
out with these knuckleheads,
and that is precisely
what I'm trying to do, OK?
But I need a little more information.
OK. I will ask around.
Go to bed.
Thanks.
Your dad really ran
a hardware store, did he?
Nothing I can't tell you about sheet
metal, screws and surface plugs.
Hmm.
What?
What's wrong with you?
Why would two guys in Maintenance
need to break in
if they already worked there?
I've no idea.
Maybe there were parts of
the building they couldn't access.
Shit, I don't know,
none of it makes any sense.
You know half of the security tapes
are missing?
Of all the floors in that building,
only that floor was hit.
And the only thing that was stolen
was some computers and a hard drive.
It sounds like a professional hit.
What do we know about this guard?
Apart from taking an early
retirement, you mean?
Hello. Hello. Who are you?
It's OK, Ryan.
Thanks for agreeing to see me, Denise.
I know it must be hard
with me representing the accused.
No, it's not. Please, come in.
Take a seat.
I'll put the kettle on.
Fridays are notoriously quiet in here.
Well, you wouldn't want it
any other way, would you?
I mean, you bought the place
for tax, right?
A tax write-off? No.
This is my only investment.
You're shitting me, right?
A restaurant? A nightclub, maybe.
Seating capacity's 80.
Staff, a wanky chef, 320K a year.
Rent - 9.5K a week.
1.95 mil loss split...
How many partners are there?
Five. That's beautiful, mate.
You're getting a 390 grand
annual tax writedown.
I don't pay tax.
I haven't paid tax for 12 years.
So what's the plan? Won't be
missed back at work this arvo.
Well, as it so happens,
I'm defending these two knuckleheads
who are accused of stealing your
laptop, amongst other things.
So?
Well, mate, unless those laptops were
petrol-powered with piston engines,
I doubt my blokes
could even switch 'em on.
Well... you know, fuck me,
probably after the drug money.
What's a computer worth
out there in Shitsville?
What happens on your floor?
Mate, they were caught red-handed,
on tape.
Pour lighter fuel on 'em
and give me a match,
but don't fucking ask for my help
getting them off.
Today, Marcel will be cooking
this line-caught wild salmon
in three ways.
First, in a chicory fog
with a reduction of sea urchin
and wattle nettle jus...
Nah, I don't want any of this shit.
Just get the cook
to knock us up a burger, pal.
Excellent choice, sir.
Felicity's saying you want a word.
Do I? Why do I want to do that?
What am I looking at?
Office furniture.
OK...
It's what this is all about.
Office furniture?
Mainly a desk, this time.
It's a sort of,
uh... little bonus super.
We sell at the markets.
Right... so... you're prepared to steal
from Australia's second richest woman
for the sake of a couple hundred
bucks worth of tax-free super.
See this chair?
15 grand this chair cost.
15 grand for a bloody chair.
Yeah, but then it's gonna
be reported stolen, isn't it?
No. Upstairs they don't notice.
They just say 'Get rid of this desk,
I want a bigger one, '
or some hot shot say 'Change my
office, I go Japan-style now.'
Well, hey, they don't ask
what happened to it.
It just sits there and then
after a little while we...
Vernon and Phil were meant to
be getting a desk on the night.
Well... well... Vern injure his back.
I'm taking it none of you
have read The Art Of War by Sun Tzu.
So the security guard,
was he involved in this heist
of the century?
He's the one who is retiring.
This was to be his bonus.
So who killed him?
We don't know. But not them.
They're best mates.
Oh, I might have talked
to that bloke once or twice,
now, come to think of it.
Rod, you say his name was?
He wasn't really a friend, though.
Then this will surprise you.
That was his coffin
you were carrying at his funeral.
Guys, I went to Rod's house.
I met his wife and son.
Come on!
If the company knows Rod was involved...
Whoever Rod is.
..Denise won't get a bloody thing.
All Rod's super - gone.
You don't know the people we work for.
They eat blokes like us for breakfast.
For God's sake, do you think
we'd still be working at our age
if we were paid properly?
Right. So it's all about
protecting Denise's interests.
The cops said he was killed at 1:21am.
I was in bed at 1 o'clock.
Guys, you have to tell them
Rod was part of this.
It proves you didn't kill him.
No. Not if it hurts Denise
and young Ryan.
Now, I mean, you've seen 'em -
how are they gonna make it?
What is this, a lemming convention?
Fellas, you're gonna spend
the rest of your days in the slammer.
Oh, Barnyard, if we're gonna have
a whisker of a hope here,
choice of jury is gonna be vital.
Age is everything.
Your Honour, the Crown will present
the jury with actual visual evidence
confirming the break-in
and ruthless, cold-blooded murder
of Roderick Howley,
a security guard gunned down
by these two men,
just five weeks shy of his retirement.
Forgive me, Your Honour,
touch of the old lumbago.
Er, Your Honour, folks of the jury,
now, I won't, uh... won't take up
too much of your time
with my opening natter.
Been a funny old few weeks for me.
It's taken me back
to more innocent times,
when I was a little tyke
and the family would gather round
the old warm ray
toasting jaffles,
watching the Val Doonican hour
on the old black-and-white,
listening to Dad's hoary old war tales.
Great days. Simple days.
Mr Greene.
Forgive me, Your Honour,
but, uh, this is very much
the world that my clients come from.
Now, folks... I encourage you
to have a look at my clients here.
Now, do they look like
hardened criminals,
or do they look like a couple of coves
you might find
at a church progressive dinner?
Sure, they were up to a bit of
mischief on the night in question.
Now, they don't deny that
and, by gee, they regret it.
But, for them, it was a bit
of a prank, you see.
Uh, what they vehemently maintain,
and we will prove,
is that they did not murder
Roderick Howley.
God, he has to be joking.
Now, there you are, you see?
I promised I'd be brief
and I've been flappin' my gums
about Val Doonican...
..today.
Hope you won't hold that
against my clients.
We know the time of death to be 1:21am.
The guard managed
to push his way to the lift well
and the camera filmed the shooting.
And this is precisely the time
that we have these two hooded men
brandishing a weapon
inside the building?
Correct.
Yes.
Not quite correct, is it, Detective?
The footage of Phil and Vern entering
the building was taken at 12:03am -
1 hour and 18 minutes
before the time of death.
That's more correct, isn't it?
Now, Your Honour,
unfortunately much of the security
footage is, uh, mysteriously missing,
but we do have this bit here.
If I can...
What the...? What the...?
Now, Detective,
I don't have my specs with me,
but would you be so kind as to
tell me what time that says there?
12:28am.
Correct.
And, Detective, would you say that
the guard appears to be still alive
at this juncture?
Now, I know that calls for
some speculation on your part,
but the man does appear
to be jiggling about.
Yes. We believe
the accused tied him up...
Mr Greene, please.
..and then made their way
to the 23rd floor,
in which time the guard
managed to pursue them,
whereupon they turned on him,
discharged their weapon, killing him.
Oh, gee whiz,
well, then, my clients are guilty.
Sorry to hear that, boys.
Detective, if you would be so kind
as to play the actual footage
that shows this.
Well, there is none.
I beg your... I didn't quite...
It's missing. We only have footage
of the guard waiting for the lift
and the gunshot coming from the dark.
And so what you're saying
is that the rest of this
is pure conjecture on your part.
We have the accused in hoods,
on tape, brandishing their weapons.
Who else would have killed him?
Excellent question, and it's a shame
you didn't ask it at the time.
At this point, I find myself wondering
if you ever saw the episode
of Perry Mason where...
You Honour, please.
Yes, I think we have well and truly
overplayed that card, Mr Greene.
Your Honour,
uh, Detective, my point is
that you have never found the gun
that killed Roderick Howley,
and you have absolutely no evidence
that my clients were in the TWE
building at 1:21am.
You may answer 'correct' if you wish.
OK. You don't deserve a thing,
but I'm going to give you 20 grand
from the sale of the house.
But if you argue with me
or if you dare complain...
Wendy, that is just not fair. 19,000.
OK, my point is this,
and it's a legal one.
18,000. OK, just listen to me.
Hear me out... 17.
And I'm going to start going down
now in multiples of two.
OK, it's just... 16.
Would you like a drink?
Are you OK?
Just... minor argument with Roger.
No... I'm not here on the rebound!
He's been under a lot of pressure.
Pressure? The man's an osteopath,
he rubs people's backs.
He's not just an osteopath.
He runs a huge clinic,
he's got every living sports star
in the country
after him 24 hours a day,
and our argument was over me
wanting to give you anything.
OK. Look, I don't blame you for
wanting to move on and start anew.
Alright? God knows
I was beating myself up
every day in prison while I was there.
So, you know, you, Fuzz, moving...
It's of no value going over
this now. I've moved on. OK?
So should you. Right.
And that's what
the 20 grand's all about.
14, soon to be 12.
I'll send you the money tomorrow.
Oh, come on, it's 20 grand. You said...
12. 20...
Fuck.
I thought there wasn't any
security footage from the car park.
Apparently, they managed
to retrieve some.
Well, that's very convenient, isn't it?
Who's 'they'? The police?
No. Some technicians at TWE.
Sometimes we get a break.
Yeah.
And sometimes
we get handfed a crock of shit
on a bed of homegrown
astringent arugula.
Well, either way,
it's bad news for your clients.
It puts them in the building
at the time of the death.
So... do you want to change their plea?
They didn't do it.
And you're wasting your time
if you think they'll rat on a mate.
I've got an expert
reviewing all the videotapes,
but that's a long straw.
You should go home, mate.
You really look like shit -
even I can see that.
Oh, thanks.
Maybe I should plead guilty
and spend the next ten inside.
See youse. See ya, Barnyard.
Goodnight. Night.
So that's it, is it? All over.
Job done, stick in your bill,
let's go eat some spatchcock.
Oh, hello, what are we, back in
Paris, manning the battlements again?
What do you want me to do?
I've done Bing Crosby and cardigans
and fondue sets -
I've only got Nana Mouskouri left.
You know they are innocent.
Ask yourself,
who has the money and resources
to secure and then change time code
on security footage?
And why would they do it
for a few stolen computers?
Why would they kill someone?
Because something went wrong. OK?
I don't know where or how,
but this was a monumental fuck-up.
Tikki Wendon
is trying to build a new casino...
Yeah, let's all get on
the 'Tikki Wendon is Satan' bus.
What, you think there's no connection?
This happened on one of her floors.
When did you people of the Left
become so kind of tragic and desperate
and conspiratorial and...?
You used to be so kind of cool
and... with your sunglasses
and your cigarettes.
They came to my apartment.
Who?
Vern and Phil. I remember now.
They wanted to watch
the UK Premier League.
Their set was broken.
It was a little after 1am, I think.
No, no, no. That didn't happen.
I'm a witness. Yeah, no, you're not.
It was Chelsea versus Wolvenhampton.
You have to put me in the stand.
Wolvenhampton.
There is no Wolvenhampton.
It's Wolverhampton and they're not
in the Premier League anymore.
You're not doing this. OK, I was...
This is not gonna happen.
You are not gonna perjure yourself,
you're not gonna perjure me. OK?
I cannot do it. And they will
nail your arse to the floor.
Right, so maybe I was in a car...
No. ..driving to...
It was a dark and rainy night.
Not gonna listen.
♪ La-la-la!
I stand corrected,
it was a cloudless night...
♪ La-la-la-la...
Unusually warm for that time of year.
A low of 19.
Mr Powell, you're gonna have to
bear with me a little bit here,
I'm afraid I'm a bit of a drongo
when it comes to matters technological.
Every time my telly breaks down,
I keep thinking of that
dear old Peter, Paul and Mary song
If I Had a Hammer.
Mr Greene.
Now, Mr Powell, you're the expert,
you've seen the tape -
what do you make of it?
The time code clearly brightens
and becomes sharper
in the section in question.
And, um, this is the funny bit,
the font itself
looks like Claridion Bold
and not Vestigon Light,
which is the case
with the rest of the footage.
But, um, Mr Powell,
what exactly are you saying here?
The security tape
may well have been tampered with.
Tampered with? Wowie.
Thank you.
Your Honour,
'could have been tampered with'?
What does that mean?
Was it, or wasn't it?
Well, Your Honour,
now, we're not saying that the tape
unequivocally has been tampered with,
we are merely demonstrating
that it's possible.
I'd like to call to the stand
Felicity Finnane.
I work in a drug rehabilitation centre
with problem youth in Liverpool.
I worked late on the night of June 21.
Had a really bad day
and was driving home
and my car just died.
At what time was this?
Just after 11:30pm.
I was terrified.
My phone was dead
and I didn't want to try and find
a phone at that time of night.
No. A drop-dead beautiful woman
all alone on the side of the road -
who can blame her?
And suddenly, out of nowhere,
these angels appeared.
By 'angels', you mean...?
Those two lovely men over there,
in an old ute.
They fixed the - what was it?
the fuel line, I think.
What time was this?
Just before one o'clock.
The gentlemen wouldn't let me get
out of my car 'cause it was cold,
so I listened to the 1am news.
Miss Finnane, I need you
to be absolutely clear about this,
because the prosecution's
entire murder case
hinges on the fact that these two men
were in the TWE Tower at 1:21am.
Well, that's impossible.
They were with me.
Thank you, Your Honour.
Are you absolutely certain
that it was these men?
It was late at night, it was wet,
bad street lighting.
I have perfect eyesight.
Or are you suggesting
all older people look the same?
Is it any wonder that
the thinking public of this country
have had an absolute gutful
of our legal system,
when two crims -
and that's what they are -
are captured on tape for all to see
breaking into one of Australia's...?
I've moved my idiot stepson
out of the building
where he can do no harm.
I want this mess closed down
with minimum fuss.
Six months home detention?
Well, why not...
Oh, do shut up.
..send them to a health spa
for six months?
I am sickened, I'm angry,
and I'm Cal McGregor.
We're out, everyone.
Thank you, everyone. Thank you.
What an honour. The man of the hour.
Tikki. Mwah. Mwah.
Cal. Everyone loves what you're doing.
And I've got a surprise for you.
Brand-new producer for the show.
Great. Great.
Isn't it? A perfect pairing of minds.
He's a bit of a lonely chump,
my stepson.
He needs your guidance.
I want you to become
a trusted confidant.
Oh, and, pet,
I want you to call me every day
and tell me everything he does and says.
Hmm?
You were Katherine Hepburn
and Renoir, Thelonious Monk,
all rolled into one.
You were a work of art.
I was good, wasn't I?
Mm.
You were pretty good too...
for a lawyer.
I should head back. Really?
I thought we might...
you know, celebrate,
have a little something to eat.
I suppose we could drink some more wine,
open up to each other
over Wagyu duck's breast.
You say that like it's a bad thing.
You could reveal your vulnerable side
and later outside, with the moon up,
we could kiss.
And hey-presto,
we're humping away in your bed -
all because you got
my late brother's friends off
for a murder they didn't commit.
Was that your little plan?
Oh... look, you skipped so many
of the finer details, but, um...
I don't do lawyers. Sorry.
It's a French barricade thing.
But I am grateful.
Sometimes, very rarely,
I go out with the sons of people
who run hardware shops,
but not often.
When might that be?
Post the Revolution.
I know where you live.
You're right - I am a morbidly
obese, non-literate fraud...
..so let's do this.
There's a blob
sitting on the end of the bed.
Mm...
Yesterday, nothing. Today, he has
three Royal Commissions.
Well, you can't do them all.
No, no, no! Check in on Priest,
then back to Polly's.
I've been called before
the Royal Commission.
Really?
A priest. I'm needed
at the Royal Commission.
OK. I'm a lawyer.
Does anybody here know who I am?
Barnyard! Turn you fucking phone on!
Uh... you're in luck. I've just seen
Mr Greene walk by.
Yes - we're open for inspection in 15.
You're never to set foot
in this house again!
Let me give the bride away.
I'm a legal pariah,
and your stupid fucking film's
only gonna make matters worse.
Tikki Wendon's superbly imaginative
plan to build an edifice...
By 'edifice', you mean 'casino', right?
How much did I win? 160 grand.
Marcel's, I'm in. 150 you said, right?
I can have a bank cheque
for you tomorrow.
Oh, no, I did not mean 'Reply all'.
I did not mean 'Reply all'!
Teatime.
Hit the floor,
or I'll blow your head off!
Got time for a cuppa, boys?
Well, I wouldn't say no. Thanks, Rod.
Colder than a nun's out there.
I got some of Denise's fruitcake here.
I told her you'd be popping in.
How's young Ryan going, mate?
Getting excited?
Mm. I've been showing him road maps
of where we'll be staying along the way.
Very excited, I think.
See that dog's breakfast of a game
on Saturday?
Burgess had his hand under it. No
way did that ball touch the grass.
You could see all that
from the stand, could you?
Well, yes,
you could've seen it from Mars.
You comfy?
I'll give you blokes ten minutes,
then I'll hit the panic button.
Make it 15. I gotta water the horse.
Like emptying a full bath, these days.
Regards to Denise and Ryan, mate.
They're on the wrong bloody level.
Hello?
Can I help you?
Whoo! Fuck yeah!
What kind of fucking place doesn't
do vodka shots with quinoa?
Fuck! Calm down, Paulie!
No fucking activated almonds? Am
I fucking...? Am I asking too much?
Calm down. Am I?
Activated almonds?
Where am I, Lobotomy Central?
I thought you wanted sex.
Oh, I do.
11 long months of gruelling handwork.
It's open slather here.
Yeah.
I'm a fool for a chinwag, though.
Preferably something that doesn't
involve the letters O-M-G or L-O-L.
Whoo! Is it?
I love this shit!
Ever read any Balzac?
Who?
Oh... Don't worry - neither have I.
But I'm thinking
maybe tonight's the night.
Bang, bang, bang!
Why do you hang around
with this fucktard?
I'm a merchant banker. He's Paul Wendon.
Stepson of the second richest woman
in the country.
In 2009, there was 15 degrees
of separation between me and Tikki.
That there is one degree.
Didn't happen to bring your mum,
did you?
Who's there? Who's...?!
Welcome, welcome!
Kids! Come and say hello
to Nicole and baby Iain. Come on.
Hi, Nicole. Hi, Iain.
Hi. Hi.
Nicole's gonna be staying with us
until she finds herself a place
and until Daddy gets back
to his old self, OK?
Where's Iain's dad?
Hello, Maria.
Oh. Hello, Barney.
Uh, Mum, this is Scarlet. Hello.
Oh, Scarlet! Hello!
Oh.
She said it's very nice to meet you.
It's lovely to meet you, too.
OK, let's get you settled.
Um, and then we've got to take
Barney to the hospital.
Come on, kids. It's alright.
Let's show them their room.
I'll grab those... No, no, no, no.
- Yeah?
- Hey, you. It's me.
Shoshanna tells me I have
an hour break in my diary.
I thought you might like
to come join me for breakfast.
Uh, what is the Shoshanna?
Is that a bedspread?
Are you interested or not? Not.
I'm, uh, having a power breakfast
with some clients.
OK, well, do you have your diary handy?
Yeah.
Uh, well, I've got an appalling run
of stuff this week.
Um, Friday?
No. Unless Shoshanna
can triage my diary.
Do what to your diary?
It's an expression.
No, no, no, no. 'Triage my diary'
is an abuse of the language.
Friday's no good for me anyway.
My own diary passed away
with renal failure last week
surrounded by loved ones.
You are still pissed off with me
about the damn film, aren't you?
What? What are you talking about?
I wasn't awake for long enough
to have an opinion.
Look, I don't want
to say goodbye like this.
I have to go back to the States soon
to finish my novel.
A novel! Do tell!
It's just hit me - you're jealous.
No, worse - envious.
The poison side of jealousy.
I've gone out and I've made a career
and a name for myself
and you are a still-life study
of self-indulgent failure.
Oh, and you are the Kim Kardashian
of the literary world.
OK, no, no.
You are a morbidly obese woman
who sheds 100 kilos
and then writes a book.
A novelist! Come on!
Why don't you go get fucked?
Oh, so Friday's off, then?
Goodbye, Cleaver.
Good luck with the whole Tolstoy thing.
So you didn't see nothing suspicious?
Everything was 100% normal.
Right, Vern?
Yeah. Yeah, it was
a very ordinary night.
We had a cuppa, some cake.
Who would do this to Rod?
Oh, if I could get my hands
on that scum...
Vernon Arnold Walters
and Phillip Ryan Granter,
we are arresting you on suspicion
of the murder of Rodney Howley.
Eh?
Last round, darling, and then it's over.
The kids wanted to come up
but I thought it was best...
No, no, no. A little later.
Yeah. When it's all over.
Yeah. Hey, how'd it go with Ryan?
Uh, he's still waiting
on two of the Braybrook statements.
Oh, we should get going, then.
Hey, come here.
Hey...
So...
You should go.
You know she hates to be kept waiting.
So she's...
The first one, Scarlet,
she's still your wife?
Mm-hm.
And Nicole is...
..you have a child with her, do you?
Mm-hm.
And they both work together?
And you all live in the same house?
Mm-hm, we do.
Chemo's beginning
to look relatively easy, then.
Mm-hm.
This State doesn't need another casino.
I'm sorry, but this is
an emotional issue for me, alright?
My old man, straight as a die, a banker,
shot through because of gambling.
Came home from school one day...
and he wasn't there.
Mm. It's a moving story
but I wouldn't say any of that
at the party meeting.
No, that is way too loser-y.
If you don't mind me saying.
We have a choice here. Alright?
A facility surrounded
by a small nature reserve
with a place for disabled kids,
for old people.
Maybe even a small zoo.
Or we can just give over the land
to another bloody casino
for Tikki Wendon.
We have a zoo. How often do you go?
You've seen one giraffe...
You've seen 'em all.
Let's put out a poll.
No, no, no, no. No, no.
No poll, alright?
That is my decision - no to a casino.
And you think caucus will support you?
Yes, I think both of them will.
I think we can knock out
a poll by Friday.
Earlier. Yeah.
What's with that shit about his dad?
As you know, usually at this time,
we're privileged to have the company
of the wonderful Tikki Wendon
to discuss the world
of business and finance with us.
But last night,
this great Australian entrepreneur,
employer of thousands,
suffered a personal tragedy.
Her offices were broken into,
robbed and vandalised.
I even read
an unconfirmed report on the net
that said Tikki herself
was threatened at knifepoint.
Now, she's apologised
for not being with us today,
but, friends, if I know Tikki,
she's undeterred.
She's ready to right this
fundamentally un-Australian wrong.
Now, this is an attack
on Australian business.
This is an attack on our way of life.
For every dollar
that TWE invests in this country,
we citizens earn four.
Now, I'm no champion of big business,
as you know,
but for God's sake, people,
Tikki Wendon is one of the good guys.
Where the hell is he?
Morning, Tik. Rene.
Paul.
So, what's the damage?
Took about 15 laptops
and smashed the mainframe.
Jesus. God only knows
what they've taken.
Everything's backed up. There's
no real problem. They caught them.
Yeah, but what's on those computers?
You know, and they got at the mainframe.
It's all encrypted.
Nothing happens on this floor
of any consequence.
Which is why you are working here.
Still, you know,
something might have,
um, leaked out or...
Like what?
I don't know.
Of all the departments of all the groups
of all the companies in this city,
they had to break into yours.
Tik, come on, that's...
Paul, the only reason
I tolerate your presence here
is because your father
is still a great root
and, for reasons
beyond my comprehension,
he seems to be fond of you.
Well, I guess... Ha!
Rene, darling, get this lot out of here.
I don't need them
prodding around my business.
And then I want you to find out who
they arrested and why they broke in.
I want to know
what happened here last night.
Nicole! Nicole!
Busy!
I can't make head or tail
of this Michael Thornton file.
This is the second attachment
for the Braybrook files.
Did he insert the device into his anus
before he went to the store
or after he arrived at the store?
It's Thornton Michael,
it's not Michael Thornton.
And that second one
is for the Land Commission...
Oh. Oh.
His parents called him 'Thornton'?
No wonder the man's
got psychological damage.
See, that could be our defence
right there.
Sorry, do you mind?
I have a huge session today.
It's panic stations, so you can
have Nicole when I'm through,
if I get through.
Because if he popped it up his pooper
before he went to the store,
it'll obviously
play differently in court...
This is not working for me!
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for a hundred things.
I'm sorry you never made silk.
I am sorry that
all your ex-clients prefer me.
I am sorry that you can't get a gig
on the Commissions, but I did try.
Oh, yes, yes, I'm sure minutes
of exhaustive toil went into that.
OK, I didn't try.
I don't want you anywhere near
my Hearings Commissions.
I'm sorry. I know what you're like.
Oh.
You grandstand, you'll undermine me
and you'll just get in my road.
Scarlet Engels's chambers.
And Cleaver Greene's chambers.
No! No more! Yep, yep, she's on her way.
Now, you can keep your chambers down
there for another couple of weeks
and then you're on your own.
You might want to tell me
when I haven't been.
And the same applies to Nicole.
She works for me now.
So, will you please leave?!
Fuck off!
Still inserted.
It's what he attacked
the shop assistant with.
It was pretty ugly, really.
Lovely. Mm.
Thank you.
And you shouldn't
have antagonised her like that.
You have to handle her with kid gloves.
Ooh. Cracks already appearing
in the love walls.
This is a short-term measure
to take the strain off him.
Yeah. All three of you
in that one little nest.
Poor sick old Barney in the middle.
That's a special circle of hell.
Felicity.
I couldn't find your number anywhere.
Uh, yes, sorry about all the... this.
I was... I'm getting
the whole thing redone.
It was very old-fashioned.
I'm taking on some more people.
Hello. I'm Nicole,
I'm one of his 'more people'.
Ah. Would you like a coffee?
Uh, no. Thank you.
I need your help. OK.
Nicole. Mm.
Uh, could you... triage my 12 o'clock?
Yes. Almost too easy.
Some people I know,
old friends of Malcolm's,
they really were very good to him,
they've landed themselves in
some pretty serious legal trouble.
I said you might help.
So you broke into the building
to steal what? A desk?
But then you didn't, and then you left,
and now you're charged with murder.
Well, that's pretty much
how it happened.
Right, but-but you say that you did
threaten and tie up the guard.
Tied him up, yeah, never denied that.
And then he was shot,
but you say you didn't do it.
No. Don't own a gun.
You were holding a gun on the monitor.
That was a toy.
OK. So, uh... did you know this guard?
Uh, I never met him. Phil?
You work with him.
Might have seen him about.
Do you know how many people
work in TWE Towers?
There's more than 2,000. OK.
So you're in the building,
wearing tea-cosies on your head,
holding a toy gun,
like the Penguin
about to break into the masked ball,
but then you didn't steal anything.
Why not?
Conscience.
When we got in there, we realised
that there's no future in crime.
None. None at all.
There's not much of a future
in that story, either, fellas.
Come on, you're gonna
have to throw me a bone here.
We didn't shoot him.
I'm not gonna get through this, am I?
Yes, you will.
You're paid to say that, aren't you?
Yeah. Not nearly enough.
Did you know the chance of life,
any life, on this planet
is 0.00000001
that anything exists?
Elephants, plants, dogs,
amoeba, tapeworms.
Yeah. Incredible.
Cats, budgerigars,
those little beetles
that only appear at Christmas.
The fact that we exist
is so totally random
the idea that any human life
is important is absurd.
Don't tell my mother that.
She's a Catholic.
Cancer often provokes
these sorts of questions.
Life and meaning.
No, it provokes questions
of utter meaninglessness.
Why have I brought another
random child into this world?
And now I'm gonna leave him
and my other kids
without ever knowing how they turn out.
Try not to worry.
You aren't gonna solve it.
Just get yourself better.
Sit on the beach
with your beautiful kids,
have a good glass of red.
You'll kind of remember
what it's all about.
I suppose I have to go home.
Would you prefer to stay the night,
if I organised it?
Yeah.
I feel as if I'm standing
on the edge of an abyss.
My wife has left me
for her Zumba instructor.
I... I feel that only Wendy can help me.
Thank you so much. 4:30?
Marvellous.
Mason. James Mason.
Thank you. I shall triage my diary.
What the fuck is this?
I am so proud of you for finally
coming to terms with your sexuality.
I mean, that is...
that is a huge step, you know?
And I think it's absolutely right
that you acknowledge that to yourself
and, uh, maybe to family,
but... I just...
..I wonder about the wisdom
of coming out on The Footy Show.
Well, I'll be there anyway
for the handball competition.
Mm... I...
I don't... I don't know if those
two ideas are really connected.
You know? I just...
Tell you what,
can we hold off on that decision
until after our session next week,
do you think?
Yeah, sure, yeah. Yeah?
Let's do that. OK.
Well done.
OK, I'll see you next week.
Thanks a lot.
Oh. Great. I knew it.
Minute Libby told me that James
Mason wanted to see me,
I knew it was you.
Please go away. Nanette. John.
L-let me explain
about the other night. OK?
First of all, Roger attacked me.
I never hit him.
No, but you tried to.
And if Roger wasn't such
a magnificent physical specimen,
you might have actually connected.
As it was, he subdued you
in front of your son and my guests.
I admit I was emotional.
You lunged at me in front of my fiance.
And you sold the family home
without telling me.
You did. And that home was a half mine.
No! No! Yes.
No, no, no. 20 years ago,
you stumped up the 10% deposit
because of an unexpectedly
slow track on Derby Day -
all of the other payments
were made by me.
You know, the time you spent in prison
was the most peaceful time
I have ever known.
The moment you get out, chaos reigns.
Come on. Come on.
Come on, darlin'.
It's not... I'm not the bad guy.
No. Cleave, we don't use
the term 'bad people'
in my profession, alright?
You are a developmentally arrested,
infantile, dysfunctional narcissist.
And I don't want to see you. OK?
The era of the casual drop-in is over.
Oh, fucking... great!
So, Vernon and Phil
have been with you here for 16 years
and nobody can tell me
anything about 'em?
Well, they kept to themselves.
Yeah.
So, nobody ever said
'Hello, do you have kids, Vernon?'
Ah! I think they both like
tenpin bowling.
Ah.
Right.
OK, what about the security guard?
He's been here sitting at the same
desk every night for 20 years.
Nobody ever accidentally tripped over
and said hi?
No. No.
Maybe once.
Oh... twice.
But I tell you this -
they did not kill him, no way.
Right. OK.
And you know that because of their
purported love of tenpin bowling?
Yeah.
Do you ever go to the football,
look at the crowd, and think,
'Everyone here at some point
is gonna die'?
You gotta stop barracking
for Parramatta, mate.
That could well be
the cause of your cancer right there.
There is no bloody order,
no such thing as fate,
just the certainty it'll get you.
Mm. Jesus. Think I preferred
your mindless optimism to this shit.
We're alone, mate.
That's what I realise now.
No, we're not.
No, we're not.
We look after each other, don't we?
You know...
..to my mind,
our friendship really comes to life
in the courtroom, doesn't it?
Hey?
I mean, how many people's destinies
have we saved over time?
83 rapists, 61 drug dealers,
12 murderers,
a dog fucker...
And how good did it make us feel?
You know, I got a really juicy
little murder just now.
Two sweet old guys, no alibi...
Cleave... I can't.
What?
I wasn't asking you for anything.
See you, Barnabas.
'Candice hugged the plane blanket...'
Cradled. No - hugged.
Jet plane. All planes are jets.
'..like it was the lover
she had just...'
No. Just.
Only.
'..only just... only just left at JFK.'
Heathrow? Paris. Rome.
Roma. Make it a train.
Gardermoen. Prague.
Everybody bloody leaves from Prague.
Budapest.
Don't know anything about Budapest.
I do. Two cities - Buda and Pest.
What?
I may have been a tad off-message
when we spoke last time.
Really? You think? Off-message?
A morbidly obese Kim Kardashian?
Only in the literary sense.
Come on, can I make it up to you?
No. That would be impossible.
Oh, come on, let me try.
Triage your diary one last time.
Lunch. On me. Yeah?
Come on, I will make it up to you.
Promise.
Where is everybody?
Tuesdays are notoriously quiet.
Well, if Tuesdays are quiet,
Fridays are...
Do you ever have a busy day in here?
Please.
Ah.
So... how is every little thing?
Fine. Thanks for asking.
Welcome.
Ooh.
These walnuts were grown
in the Hunter Valley.
Marcel has taken the meat of the walnut
and fused it with Tasmanian truffle oil,
shaved fennel grown in his own garden,
and an infusion of herbs
and aged Benedictine,
served on a lime and beetroot smear.
Enjoy.
Ah.
Incredible, huh?
What happened to the whole
'I don't care if the walnut
is a lesbian crack whore
served on a Pap smear' rant?
Come on, you've gotta keep up
a little bit.
OK? This is... This is diff...
This is food as art. Alright?
It's like an installation.
Tracey Emin
would understand this walnut.
And you accuse me of being a wanker?
Come on, look,
I didn't come here to argue. Alright?
You told me I was a fraud.
Another starter, compliments of Marcel.
Organic tomato,
fused with lime pith and quince,
roasted over a 490-degree flame
for six seconds...
Again, with complimentary...
You, who have never put yourself
on the line for anyone...
Served with spelt millet loaf
and garden arugula
with pronounced astringent nuts.
Is anybody paying
for shit in this place, mate?
Sometimes I wonder if you know
what that word 'friend' even means.
I know what it means. Alright?
Why did you even invite me here?
What? Come on.
Hmm?
You have got to be fucking joking. What?
You're going away. Who knows
when we'll see each other again?
I need closure.
Don't you need closure?
Hmph.
Hmm?
Hmm...
Mm?
Excuse the symbolism,
but for old time's sake...
Mm.
Organic tomato,
infused with
self-indulgent, abject failure.
Consider yourself closed.
Here you go, take it easy.
Nicole? We're back.
Hey. Hi.
Oh, no, no, not in that chair.
He needs support for his back.
Right.
Hey?
Here you go.
Here you go. Easy, easy.
Here, I made some vegetable broth.
Oh, good. It looks a bit gluggy.
Well, it was fine
half an hour ago, so...
Oh. We'll sort it out
when we get home from work, hmm?
Alright.
You just relax.
Bye. Bye.
Hey, Cleave.
I'm right to come back to work.
The prosecution's case
consists of actual footage
of Abbott and Costello
breaking into the building.
Um... Phil then takes his mask off
to catch his breath,
and then remembers
and pulls it back on again.
Vernon takes a toilet break
holding a gun.
Are you OK?
Dying. But I suppose we all are.
Then there's a nice shot
of a licence plate on the ute
as it enters the building.
A ute which is registered to Phil.
Basically the entire defence case
at the moment
consists of me saying,
'I don't believe they did it.'
They didn't. Should you even be up?
It's safer for him here
than it is at home.
It is.
Now, look, you contacted me
because you said these blokes
were friends of Mal's.
Is there any other connection
I need to know about?
In my world,
friends of family are friends.
I realise your world
doesn't work that way,
not if you're willing to drag a
dying mate in here to help you out.
You were born and grew up in
the same area as these guys, though.
A lot of people are born in my area.
It's a working-class suburb.
We breed more
than people from leafier suburbs.
Oh, what is this, Paris 1968?
It's not a fucking class war.
My old man ran a hardware store.
His old boy...
What did your old...?
He didn't do anything too flash.
Now, look, you asked me to help you
out with these knuckleheads,
and that is precisely
what I'm trying to do, OK?
But I need a little more information.
OK. I will ask around.
Go to bed.
Thanks.
Your dad really ran
a hardware store, did he?
Nothing I can't tell you about sheet
metal, screws and surface plugs.
Hmm.
What?
What's wrong with you?
Why would two guys in Maintenance
need to break in
if they already worked there?
I've no idea.
Maybe there were parts of
the building they couldn't access.
Shit, I don't know,
none of it makes any sense.
You know half of the security tapes
are missing?
Of all the floors in that building,
only that floor was hit.
And the only thing that was stolen
was some computers and a hard drive.
It sounds like a professional hit.
What do we know about this guard?
Apart from taking an early
retirement, you mean?
Hello. Hello. Who are you?
It's OK, Ryan.
Thanks for agreeing to see me, Denise.
I know it must be hard
with me representing the accused.
No, it's not. Please, come in.
Take a seat.
I'll put the kettle on.
Fridays are notoriously quiet in here.
Well, you wouldn't want it
any other way, would you?
I mean, you bought the place
for tax, right?
A tax write-off? No.
This is my only investment.
You're shitting me, right?
A restaurant? A nightclub, maybe.
Seating capacity's 80.
Staff, a wanky chef, 320K a year.
Rent - 9.5K a week.
1.95 mil loss split...
How many partners are there?
Five. That's beautiful, mate.
You're getting a 390 grand
annual tax writedown.
I don't pay tax.
I haven't paid tax for 12 years.
So what's the plan? Won't be
missed back at work this arvo.
Well, as it so happens,
I'm defending these two knuckleheads
who are accused of stealing your
laptop, amongst other things.
So?
Well, mate, unless those laptops were
petrol-powered with piston engines,
I doubt my blokes
could even switch 'em on.
Well... you know, fuck me,
probably after the drug money.
What's a computer worth
out there in Shitsville?
What happens on your floor?
Mate, they were caught red-handed,
on tape.
Pour lighter fuel on 'em
and give me a match,
but don't fucking ask for my help
getting them off.
Today, Marcel will be cooking
this line-caught wild salmon
in three ways.
First, in a chicory fog
with a reduction of sea urchin
and wattle nettle jus...
Nah, I don't want any of this shit.
Just get the cook
to knock us up a burger, pal.
Excellent choice, sir.
Felicity's saying you want a word.
Do I? Why do I want to do that?
What am I looking at?
Office furniture.
OK...
It's what this is all about.
Office furniture?
Mainly a desk, this time.
It's a sort of,
uh... little bonus super.
We sell at the markets.
Right... so... you're prepared to steal
from Australia's second richest woman
for the sake of a couple hundred
bucks worth of tax-free super.
See this chair?
15 grand this chair cost.
15 grand for a bloody chair.
Yeah, but then it's gonna
be reported stolen, isn't it?
No. Upstairs they don't notice.
They just say 'Get rid of this desk,
I want a bigger one, '
or some hot shot say 'Change my
office, I go Japan-style now.'
Well, hey, they don't ask
what happened to it.
It just sits there and then
after a little while we...
Vernon and Phil were meant to
be getting a desk on the night.
Well... well... Vern injure his back.
I'm taking it none of you
have read The Art Of War by Sun Tzu.
So the security guard,
was he involved in this heist
of the century?
He's the one who is retiring.
This was to be his bonus.
So who killed him?
We don't know. But not them.
They're best mates.
Oh, I might have talked
to that bloke once or twice,
now, come to think of it.
Rod, you say his name was?
He wasn't really a friend, though.
Then this will surprise you.
That was his coffin
you were carrying at his funeral.
Guys, I went to Rod's house.
I met his wife and son.
Come on!
If the company knows Rod was involved...
Whoever Rod is.
..Denise won't get a bloody thing.
All Rod's super - gone.
You don't know the people we work for.
They eat blokes like us for breakfast.
For God's sake, do you think
we'd still be working at our age
if we were paid properly?
Right. So it's all about
protecting Denise's interests.
The cops said he was killed at 1:21am.
I was in bed at 1 o'clock.
Guys, you have to tell them
Rod was part of this.
It proves you didn't kill him.
No. Not if it hurts Denise
and young Ryan.
Now, I mean, you've seen 'em -
how are they gonna make it?
What is this, a lemming convention?
Fellas, you're gonna spend
the rest of your days in the slammer.
Oh, Barnyard, if we're gonna have
a whisker of a hope here,
choice of jury is gonna be vital.
Age is everything.
Your Honour, the Crown will present
the jury with actual visual evidence
confirming the break-in
and ruthless, cold-blooded murder
of Roderick Howley,
a security guard gunned down
by these two men,
just five weeks shy of his retirement.
Forgive me, Your Honour,
touch of the old lumbago.
Er, Your Honour, folks of the jury,
now, I won't, uh... won't take up
too much of your time
with my opening natter.
Been a funny old few weeks for me.
It's taken me back
to more innocent times,
when I was a little tyke
and the family would gather round
the old warm ray
toasting jaffles,
watching the Val Doonican hour
on the old black-and-white,
listening to Dad's hoary old war tales.
Great days. Simple days.
Mr Greene.
Forgive me, Your Honour,
but, uh, this is very much
the world that my clients come from.
Now, folks... I encourage you
to have a look at my clients here.
Now, do they look like
hardened criminals,
or do they look like a couple of coves
you might find
at a church progressive dinner?
Sure, they were up to a bit of
mischief on the night in question.
Now, they don't deny that
and, by gee, they regret it.
But, for them, it was a bit
of a prank, you see.
Uh, what they vehemently maintain,
and we will prove,
is that they did not murder
Roderick Howley.
God, he has to be joking.
Now, there you are, you see?
I promised I'd be brief
and I've been flappin' my gums
about Val Doonican...
..today.
Hope you won't hold that
against my clients.
We know the time of death to be 1:21am.
The guard managed
to push his way to the lift well
and the camera filmed the shooting.
And this is precisely the time
that we have these two hooded men
brandishing a weapon
inside the building?
Correct.
Yes.
Not quite correct, is it, Detective?
The footage of Phil and Vern entering
the building was taken at 12:03am -
1 hour and 18 minutes
before the time of death.
That's more correct, isn't it?
Now, Your Honour,
unfortunately much of the security
footage is, uh, mysteriously missing,
but we do have this bit here.
If I can...
What the...? What the...?
Now, Detective,
I don't have my specs with me,
but would you be so kind as to
tell me what time that says there?
12:28am.
Correct.
And, Detective, would you say that
the guard appears to be still alive
at this juncture?
Now, I know that calls for
some speculation on your part,
but the man does appear
to be jiggling about.
Yes. We believe
the accused tied him up...
Mr Greene, please.
..and then made their way
to the 23rd floor,
in which time the guard
managed to pursue them,
whereupon they turned on him,
discharged their weapon, killing him.
Oh, gee whiz,
well, then, my clients are guilty.
Sorry to hear that, boys.
Detective, if you would be so kind
as to play the actual footage
that shows this.
Well, there is none.
I beg your... I didn't quite...
It's missing. We only have footage
of the guard waiting for the lift
and the gunshot coming from the dark.
And so what you're saying
is that the rest of this
is pure conjecture on your part.
We have the accused in hoods,
on tape, brandishing their weapons.
Who else would have killed him?
Excellent question, and it's a shame
you didn't ask it at the time.
At this point, I find myself wondering
if you ever saw the episode
of Perry Mason where...
You Honour, please.
Yes, I think we have well and truly
overplayed that card, Mr Greene.
Your Honour,
uh, Detective, my point is
that you have never found the gun
that killed Roderick Howley,
and you have absolutely no evidence
that my clients were in the TWE
building at 1:21am.
You may answer 'correct' if you wish.
OK. You don't deserve a thing,
but I'm going to give you 20 grand
from the sale of the house.
But if you argue with me
or if you dare complain...
Wendy, that is just not fair. 19,000.
OK, my point is this,
and it's a legal one.
18,000. OK, just listen to me.
Hear me out... 17.
And I'm going to start going down
now in multiples of two.
OK, it's just... 16.
Would you like a drink?
Are you OK?
Just... minor argument with Roger.
No... I'm not here on the rebound!
He's been under a lot of pressure.
Pressure? The man's an osteopath,
he rubs people's backs.
He's not just an osteopath.
He runs a huge clinic,
he's got every living sports star
in the country
after him 24 hours a day,
and our argument was over me
wanting to give you anything.
OK. Look, I don't blame you for
wanting to move on and start anew.
Alright? God knows
I was beating myself up
every day in prison while I was there.
So, you know, you, Fuzz, moving...
It's of no value going over
this now. I've moved on. OK?
So should you. Right.
And that's what
the 20 grand's all about.
14, soon to be 12.
I'll send you the money tomorrow.
Oh, come on, it's 20 grand. You said...
12. 20...
Fuck.
I thought there wasn't any
security footage from the car park.
Apparently, they managed
to retrieve some.
Well, that's very convenient, isn't it?
Who's 'they'? The police?
No. Some technicians at TWE.
Sometimes we get a break.
Yeah.
And sometimes
we get handfed a crock of shit
on a bed of homegrown
astringent arugula.
Well, either way,
it's bad news for your clients.
It puts them in the building
at the time of the death.
So... do you want to change their plea?
They didn't do it.
And you're wasting your time
if you think they'll rat on a mate.
I've got an expert
reviewing all the videotapes,
but that's a long straw.
You should go home, mate.
You really look like shit -
even I can see that.
Oh, thanks.
Maybe I should plead guilty
and spend the next ten inside.
See youse. See ya, Barnyard.
Goodnight. Night.
So that's it, is it? All over.
Job done, stick in your bill,
let's go eat some spatchcock.
Oh, hello, what are we, back in
Paris, manning the battlements again?
What do you want me to do?
I've done Bing Crosby and cardigans
and fondue sets -
I've only got Nana Mouskouri left.
You know they are innocent.
Ask yourself,
who has the money and resources
to secure and then change time code
on security footage?
And why would they do it
for a few stolen computers?
Why would they kill someone?
Because something went wrong. OK?
I don't know where or how,
but this was a monumental fuck-up.
Tikki Wendon
is trying to build a new casino...
Yeah, let's all get on
the 'Tikki Wendon is Satan' bus.
What, you think there's no connection?
This happened on one of her floors.
When did you people of the Left
become so kind of tragic and desperate
and conspiratorial and...?
You used to be so kind of cool
and... with your sunglasses
and your cigarettes.
They came to my apartment.
Who?
Vern and Phil. I remember now.
They wanted to watch
the UK Premier League.
Their set was broken.
It was a little after 1am, I think.
No, no, no. That didn't happen.
I'm a witness. Yeah, no, you're not.
It was Chelsea versus Wolvenhampton.
You have to put me in the stand.
Wolvenhampton.
There is no Wolvenhampton.
It's Wolverhampton and they're not
in the Premier League anymore.
You're not doing this. OK, I was...
This is not gonna happen.
You are not gonna perjure yourself,
you're not gonna perjure me. OK?
I cannot do it. And they will
nail your arse to the floor.
Right, so maybe I was in a car...
No. ..driving to...
It was a dark and rainy night.
Not gonna listen.
♪ La-la-la!
I stand corrected,
it was a cloudless night...
♪ La-la-la-la...
Unusually warm for that time of year.
A low of 19.
Mr Powell, you're gonna have to
bear with me a little bit here,
I'm afraid I'm a bit of a drongo
when it comes to matters technological.
Every time my telly breaks down,
I keep thinking of that
dear old Peter, Paul and Mary song
If I Had a Hammer.
Mr Greene.
Now, Mr Powell, you're the expert,
you've seen the tape -
what do you make of it?
The time code clearly brightens
and becomes sharper
in the section in question.
And, um, this is the funny bit,
the font itself
looks like Claridion Bold
and not Vestigon Light,
which is the case
with the rest of the footage.
But, um, Mr Powell,
what exactly are you saying here?
The security tape
may well have been tampered with.
Tampered with? Wowie.
Thank you.
Your Honour,
'could have been tampered with'?
What does that mean?
Was it, or wasn't it?
Well, Your Honour,
now, we're not saying that the tape
unequivocally has been tampered with,
we are merely demonstrating
that it's possible.
I'd like to call to the stand
Felicity Finnane.
I work in a drug rehabilitation centre
with problem youth in Liverpool.
I worked late on the night of June 21.
Had a really bad day
and was driving home
and my car just died.
At what time was this?
Just after 11:30pm.
I was terrified.
My phone was dead
and I didn't want to try and find
a phone at that time of night.
No. A drop-dead beautiful woman
all alone on the side of the road -
who can blame her?
And suddenly, out of nowhere,
these angels appeared.
By 'angels', you mean...?
Those two lovely men over there,
in an old ute.
They fixed the - what was it?
the fuel line, I think.
What time was this?
Just before one o'clock.
The gentlemen wouldn't let me get
out of my car 'cause it was cold,
so I listened to the 1am news.
Miss Finnane, I need you
to be absolutely clear about this,
because the prosecution's
entire murder case
hinges on the fact that these two men
were in the TWE Tower at 1:21am.
Well, that's impossible.
They were with me.
Thank you, Your Honour.
Are you absolutely certain
that it was these men?
It was late at night, it was wet,
bad street lighting.
I have perfect eyesight.
Or are you suggesting
all older people look the same?
Is it any wonder that
the thinking public of this country
have had an absolute gutful
of our legal system,
when two crims -
and that's what they are -
are captured on tape for all to see
breaking into one of Australia's...?
I've moved my idiot stepson
out of the building
where he can do no harm.
I want this mess closed down
with minimum fuss.
Six months home detention?
Well, why not...
Oh, do shut up.
..send them to a health spa
for six months?
I am sickened, I'm angry,
and I'm Cal McGregor.
We're out, everyone.
Thank you, everyone. Thank you.
What an honour. The man of the hour.
Tikki. Mwah. Mwah.
Cal. Everyone loves what you're doing.
And I've got a surprise for you.
Brand-new producer for the show.
Great. Great.
Isn't it? A perfect pairing of minds.
He's a bit of a lonely chump,
my stepson.
He needs your guidance.
I want you to become
a trusted confidant.
Oh, and, pet,
I want you to call me every day
and tell me everything he does and says.
Hmm?
You were Katherine Hepburn
and Renoir, Thelonious Monk,
all rolled into one.
You were a work of art.
I was good, wasn't I?
Mm.
You were pretty good too...
for a lawyer.
I should head back. Really?
I thought we might...
you know, celebrate,
have a little something to eat.
I suppose we could drink some more wine,
open up to each other
over Wagyu duck's breast.
You say that like it's a bad thing.
You could reveal your vulnerable side
and later outside, with the moon up,
we could kiss.
And hey-presto,
we're humping away in your bed -
all because you got
my late brother's friends off
for a murder they didn't commit.
Was that your little plan?
Oh... look, you skipped so many
of the finer details, but, um...
I don't do lawyers. Sorry.
It's a French barricade thing.
But I am grateful.
Sometimes, very rarely,
I go out with the sons of people
who run hardware shops,
but not often.
When might that be?
Post the Revolution.
I know where you live.
You're right - I am a morbidly
obese, non-literate fraud...
..so let's do this.
There's a blob
sitting on the end of the bed.
Mm...
Yesterday, nothing. Today, he has
three Royal Commissions.
Well, you can't do them all.
No, no, no! Check in on Priest,
then back to Polly's.
I've been called before
the Royal Commission.
Really?
A priest. I'm needed
at the Royal Commission.
OK. I'm a lawyer.
Does anybody here know who I am?
Barnyard! Turn you fucking phone on!
Uh... you're in luck. I've just seen
Mr Greene walk by.