Underbelly (2008–2013): Season 6, Episode 2 - Squizzy Puts One Over - full transcript
We have a witness that places
both Taylor and Cutmore
near the scene.
We have a farmer
who saw two men,
one of them carrying
a brown suitcase,
walking in the direction
of the car towards the weir,
the same weir from which
Detective Bruce here
retrieved
this brown suitcase...
filled with
implements of crime.
We also have an old chap
who saw them
getting into
taxi number 11-0-22
outside Cliveden Mansions
at 8am that very day.
He tells us the two men
he saw are definitely
not fellow residents.
And the accused -
Cutmore and Taylor?
Typical criminal thugs.
That's Cutmore to a tee,
but Taylor,
I reckon he's got
a bit more going on up top.
Not after he's hanged,
he won't.
Squizzy Taylor.
Your lawyer's here.
- I didn't do it.
- Me neither.
- I never killed that taxidriver.
- Me neither.
I was nowhere near Doncaster
that day.
My girlfriend will tell you.
I was with her.
Yep, and I was there too.
The police case
against you is...
a mite more substantial.
And Piggott and Brophy
are brimming with confidence.
We can't sort it out
while we're stuck in here.
Any reason you can't
arrange bail, Eugene?
£50 for him.
Hold on.
I've got two eyewitnesses.
You can't be serious.
And...
And £50 for him.
Mr Cutmore. Pub?
Oh, and how, Les.
I could go a beer.
I could murder one, in fact.
You're not worried
you'll swing?
Not if you swing
with me, Annie.
I like my business
nice and regular.
Now, a murder charge could be
somewhat problematic for you.
- Distracting.
- Henry.
I agree that your average bloke
on the street
facing the, uh, hangman's noose
may regard it
as somewhat of a problem.
See, but I, on the other hand,
I see me situation in an
altogether different complexion.
I see it as a challenge.
So how are we
gonna nobble those witnesses?
- Snowy!
- Ways and means, mate.
How's trade?
The Rats had
a lean couple of days.
- Everywhere's quiet.
- What the hell is that?
Three lines on page five.
Is that all I fuckin' rate?
What is with
that fuckin' nickname again?
- Got my name right, Squizz.
- Shut up.
Come on, fellas.
We've got work to do.
Oh, Mr Farmer!
Thank you, Mr Farmer!
I beg your pardon?
Well, the gentleman
sitting there
may resemble the shortish man
I saw getting
into the car that day,
but... as to it
actually being him?
Well, now I can't be certain.
You are the matron
of the City Watch House?
Yes.
And on the night of March 17,
the defendants
were in the cells there?
Yes, they were in
adjoining cells three and four.
Did they have
any conversation together?
They did.
- And did you hear it?
- I did.
At about 11pm, prisoner Taylor
was feeling jittery
about the eyewitnesses
ranged against 'em.
Those bloody witnesses.
Les.
Stop tapping.
Can you stop fuckin' tapping?
And then he calmed somewhat.
Did Taylor
discuss his change of heart
with Cutmore?
- He did.
- Oi, Snow.
What?
Well, the way I see it,
those bastards
can't very well pot us
if the witnesses of theirs
can't identify us.
Right. So how are we
gonna do it?
Once we've made bail...
"The bastards
can't very well pot us for it
"if those witnesses of theirs
can't identify us."
And what did you
understand from that?
That he meant to get at 'em.
Get at the witnesses.
Dolly worries about me.
She reckons
I'm gonna die young.
Someone's bound to put
a bullet in me head one day,
she reckons.
I just laugh.
She wouldn't be happy
if she didn't have
anything to worry about.
I wouldn't mind a bullet,
or even a blade.
Anything but the rope.
Good old Doll. Been looking out
for me since I was a kid.
It'd be half a day
of your time, morning at most.
- You'd be done by lunch.
- This has got sand in it.
What you're asking, Les,
I could go to jail for it.
You, go to jail? A respectable,
smooth-talking man like you?
You said yourself that me out
keeps this business
running smoothly, alright?
- This is to your advantage.
- Really?
Seems to me the advantage
only flows one way.
Business is
a two-way street, Les.
I do something for you, you
have to do something for me.
So, what are you offering?
A 10% price cut
on the sly grog.
15.
20?
Mr Stokes, where were you
on the morning of the 29th?
I was at the Crystal Cafe,
on Bourke Street.
I arrived around 10am.
Did you see
anyone you knew there?
Yes, Mr Cutmore and Mr Taylor
were at a table near the rear,
with Miss Dolly Grey.
You saw the accused
in Bourke Street,
in the city, at 10am?
The same time
the prosecution claims
they were shooting Mr Haines
a full 12 miles away
in Doncaster?
I saw them at 10:00.
They were sharing a pot of tea.
Mr Taylor was
reading the newspaper -
the 'Argus', I believe.
Squizzy! Squizzy!
Squizzy! Squizzy!
- This way, Squizzy!
- It's the press, Squizzy!
Uh, gentlemen,
it's Leslie, actually.
Glad to be found
not guilty, Squizzy?
Glad to suck the sweet air
of freedom into me lungs.
Do you have any words
for the police, Squizzy?
Oh, look, Mr Brophy and
Mr Piggott have a job to do.
I know that. It just seems
to include harassing me.
And me name's
actually Leslie...
Has being faced with a death
sentence affected you, Squizzy?
- Has it changed you?
- It's had a powerful impact.
And it's made me truly ponder
the meaning of me life.
And will you mend your ways?
Well, put it this way.
Whilst you live,
live in clover,
for when you're dead,
you're dead all over.
Squizzy, Squizzy. One more.
Oh! Sorry.
- Oh. Hello, sir.
- Hello, Squizzy.
Oh, well - glad to know
we're still doing business,
Mr Brophy, huh?
- No hard feelings?
- None.
I'm just gonna screw you
for everything while I can.
The coppers don't appreciate
being made look stupid, Les.
You shit in your own nest,
you'll choke on it.
One day, Brophy.
One day,
you'll tell your grandkids
you knew Leslie Taylor.
Knock, knock.
Or is there a secret password?
This is nice, isn't it?
Hey? Lovely.
Very, uh... very homely.
Perfect for
a little sly grogging
to the citizens of Fitzroy.
So you're free to pick pockets
again, thanks to Henry Stokes.
You must be giving his dick
a pretty solid suck.
No dick sucking involved, Harry.
We're just good friends.
Yes, well,
any mate of that bastard,
I'll take with a grain of salt.
Check it.
You think I'd sell you
watered-down? Harry!
You wound me.
You really do.
- Man of me word.
- Good thing too.
Or I'd make you eat them.
So, you doing me the same price
you're doing Stokes?
- Les!
- Arsehole!
Les! Calm down!
Look, it's not about you.
It's about him trying
to put one over Henry Stokes.
They cross the street so they
don't walk on the same cobble.
I don't care why.
He's a dickhead.
And I need every penny
I can get.
The bastards will send me
to the poorhouse.
I was thinking maybe
we could pull off a bank job.
Snowy would be in for sure,
and we could top up the coffers
for all of us
in one fell swoop.
No can do, mate. The jacks
are watching me day and night.
I can't take a slash without
Brophy or one of his uniforms
offering to shake it for me.
Right, and Snowy and Ed tell me
it's the same for them,
but it's not gonna
last forever, right?
And I'm planning to put one
over them, but until then,
we're just gonna have to keep
our heads below the battlements.
We could boost a safe, then.
We could roll a bookie.
There's a big race day...
Fuck it, Gus!
I'll come up with
the bright idea, OK?
But until then,
you'll give it a rest.
Trouble is I got a couple
of urgent domestic expenses.
Bloody Henry VIII here.
Shouldn't have too many wives.
Well, at least Gus is married.
Some men round here ain't been
down the aisle even once.
- How is Mrs Murray?
- Which one?
The landlord's been going
on and on about the rent.
And the butcher wouldn't
extend me any more credit.
But now you're home,
we can pay them all.
Of course we can.
- Love?
- Hmm?
How much do we owe exactly?
£108, six shillings
and tuppence.
Right.
Put your hands up
or I'll blow your brains out!
I'm a desperate man,
and I need all your money!
- Sorry.
- I should punch your head in.
Probably for the best
I'm in here, then.
What's the name of your accuser?
I'll have a chat.
Thanks, mate, but it's...
it's under control.
I think I'm going to have
a shot at defending myself.
Defend yourself with what?
Power of the spoken word, mate.
- Gus.
- Mate.
-No, no, no, no.
One word in the teller's ear
would be all it takes.
Les, I appreciate it,
I really do.
But it's fine.
Let it please the court
that regarding the day
in question, it is...
perpetrator of the crime
speak with an accent
indigenous to
those states of the Union
opposed to the abomination
that is human slavery,
that the perpetrator
of the crime
which bound him hand and foot,
thereafter purloining moneys
from the safe,
spoke with a...
with a Yankee accent.
What I wish to discover, in the
interest of jurisprudence...
lends itself to rigorous
testing of evidence
and the golden thread
of the assumption of innocence,
is was this truly a...
was this truly a Yankee accent?
Beg pardon?
I'll repeat the question,
shall I?
My love.
Come on.
- Don't bend over in the shower.
- Thanks for the tip, Snow.
Alright.
So you... you'll come
visit me sometime, yeah?
- Help me while away the hours?
- You can count on it.
I warned him about
doing jobs on his own.
QED - that's Latin for
"It's not my fault."
"Dear Gus, Hope this
finds you in the clover.
"Sorry I haven't
dropped by yet,
"but I've been busy, very busy.
"My advice? Keep clear
of any of Long Harry's mob.
"And remember,
if you stand tall,
"no bastard can get you down.
"Meanwhile,
I always find it helps
"to look back
on the good times."
I can't sleep.
I said, I can't sleep.
Sorry, Gus.
Dolly is always telling me,
I make things too complicated.
That's just 'cause
she doesn't understand
the way me mind works.
You see, I like being
the smartest bloke in the room.
Gives me a thrill.
But the biggest thrill
is when you dream up
an ambitious plan...
and bang, it comes off.
There's no other feeling
like it.
It's better than sex.
It's time we took our
relationship to the next level.
I've got a proposal,
a way for us both
to get ahead a little
in these difficult times.
But it's a bit... involved.
I've got a proposal
for you, Harry,
a way for us both to make a quid
in these difficult times.
Why would I do a job with you?
Well, we ain't ever
worked together, Harry.
And why is that, huh?
Why haven't the Narrows Gang
and the Bourke Street Rats
come together?
Joined forces like the Spartans
and the Persians?
The Spartans and the Persians
kicked the shit
out of each other.
Well, the point is
that we're stronger as a team.
What's the plan?
A tried and tested one.
First, we use disguises
to avoid identification.
And second, we organise a decoy
to distract the staff
while we snatch the loot.
And third, my personal
signature, we chain the door
so they can't chase us
and call the jacks.
It's brilliant, huh?
And who do we use as a fence?
- Henry Stokes.
- Stokes?
I wouldn't trust him
further than that.
He'll get us a good price.
Yes, well,
so would plenty of others.
Well, do they have
Stokes's clout and his reach?
Stokes is a liar and a cheat,
and he's from Tasmania!
I vouch for him.
What if I agree that
one of your blokes is bagman?
Matt Daly.
He carries the loot,
and he does the deal
with Stokes.
Is he reliable?
I'll vouch for him.
Mr Brophy, I want to... I want to
get us back on an even keel.
You know, back to normal.
Show...
- Show willing.
- How willing?
Word on the street is there's
gonna be a jewellery robbery.
So the jacks nab Daly
before he gets here.
And they get to look like ace
crime busters. Everybody wins.
- Except Matthew Daly.
- Yeah, well.
He'll have to do
a spot of time.
But as far as
Long Harry's concerned,
that's because Daly
attracted too much attention
and got himself arrested.
How do we make any money
out of this?
Well, Mad Matt Daly's
the decoy, right?
Snowy's the one
lifting the loot.
And unknown to Matt, he's gonna
make the lion's share disappear.
You stuff this up
and you'll have every man
in town after you.
He's got the bag. Ready?
Let's just possess ourselves
with patience.
See where he's headed.
Come on.
Brophy, grab him!
What are you doing?
Hurry up!
- Who are you?
- What are you doing here, Daly?
- Mr Stokes!
- What?
Police!
Don't move.
Fucking jack!
Don't you touch me!
Get your hands off me!
Hold your horses!
Hold your...
Where is he?
Where is the little turd?
Hey, no need
for name calling, Harry.
I should never have
fucking listened to you.
You and your stupid
fuckin' schemes.
Harry, it wasn't my fault.
Matt reckons close to a dozen
jacks turned up at Stokes's.
And I think he drew them there.
And how do you
reckon that, Leslie?
Well, he's a thug, Harry. Stomps
along like Jack the Ripper.
Any cop in town would know
that he was up to no good,
but he was your choice, so...
Anyway, look,
I'm glad you're here,
because I need to know that
we can depend on him, right?
You know, with the jacks.
Are you saying
that I would have
a filthy dog working for me?
No, I'm saying
that for all we know,
he's in there fizgigged
and putting you and me
in it right now.
Matt knows how to
keep his gob locked, Les.
What bothers me is this.
You see, it says that
1,435 quid's worth of rings
was taken from Kilpatrick's.
But when the jacks
nabbed Matt and Stokes,
they only had 300 quid's worth.
Well, that leaves over £1,000
worth of sparklers missing.
- Where have they got to?
- I don't know.
Maybe their report's wrong,
Harry. Hey?
Or Kilpatrick's are running
an insurance scam, eh?
- Upping their losses.
- No, no, no, I don't think so.
You see, I think
that someone has dudded me.
- Dudded ya?
- Yes, dudded me.
And I know who.
Henry fucking Stokes!
Yeah, well,
what makes you think it's him?
Because he is the only prick
that I know
who has got
the sly, calculating brain
capable enough of coming up
with a scheme like this!
I'm tellin' you, Les,
if Matt goes down,
I am gonna find Stokes,
I am going to cut off his head
and I am going
to shit down his neck!
OK, well,
we'll sort it out, hey, Harry?
You just relax, hey?
Take a seat.
Bunny. You're
making me nervous, mate.
- Come on, Doll. Make 'em a brew.
- Cup of tea?
Cup of tea would be great,
Doll. Thank you very much.
Well, have a seat.
Have a seat, everyone.
Squizzy Taylor
had learned a thing or two
about the court process
during his murder trial.
He'd discovered that
as part of full disclosure,
jury members'
names and addresses
were posted for all to see.
A few quid to the right jurymen
and Stokes's and Daly's
chances of acquittal
looked a whole lot brighter.
Hopefully, all the bad blood
his scheming had caused
would soon be
water under the bridge.
Mr Stokes, the police claim
when they arrived
at your business premises,
they found rings
stolen from Kilpatrick's
on your desk.
Mr Stokes, you said in your
original statement to police
that at no time
did Mr Daly offer
to sell you rings stolen
from Kilpatrick's jeweller's.
Are you now saying he did
offer you stolen property?
No, he never offered
to sell them to me.
We find the defendant...
not guilty.
Even though
his man had been acquitted,
Long Harry was far from happy.
There was still the little
matter of a missing £1,000.
Happy days, Doll, hey?
All's well that ends well.
- You heard from Cutmore yet?
- Uh, yeah.
He's got onto
the best fence in Sydney,
some... sheila
called Kate Leigh.
He's gonna be back any day now,
and our pockets
will be that much richer.
Well, well, well. Stokes
the thief with his pet rat.
Be careful.
You might catch fleas.
Hold him.
You can hear me
good and clear, can ya?
Listen up. You ain't welcome
in Fitzroy no more, Squizzy.
Your good mate over there
neither.
No-one that you work for.
No-one who works for you.
Fitzroy, Carlton, Collingwood,
it's all my territory.
If I see any of youse
north of Victoria Street,
I will kill ya.
Hey, Les. Les!
What do you reckon?
As a seamstress,
do I make a good prossie?
Oh, I forgot to tell ya.
I got a card from Tankbuster,
all the way from France.
He looks handsome, doesn't he?
"Dear Dolly, Greetings from
the land of frogs and garlic,
"though I haven't seen
neither of them,
"just mud and more mud."
You can read it later.
Let's, um...
Let's do something fun, Les.
Let's go to the pictures.
The only thing I feel like doing
is kicking the shit
out of Long Harry's fat head.
He really said we weren't
to go to Fitzroy anymore?
And I'll return the favour.
I'll slit his throat
if he comes down here.
You know what I reckon?
If you went and saw Harry,
bought him a beer,
everything would sort out.
Let's just nip it in the bud
before someone
really gets hurt.
- Before someone gets hurt?
- Well...
He almost split me skull, Doll.
- You brought that on yourself.
- Brought it on meself?
Playing people off
against each other.
Doublecrossing, triplecrossing.
You're always
trying to prove you're
smarter than everybody else,
and I don't know why -
what's it all for?
I'll tell you
what it's fuckin' for.
Where did this come from, hey?
Hey? And this shit? Huh?
My mental schemes mean
that you don't have to
spread your legs day and night,
so don't piss on me parade
when you're happy enough
to take the spoils.
All I'm saying is that someone
has got to pull their head in.
Few days ago,
there was none of this silly
"my territory, your territory".
- It was all just mates.
- Mates?
Well, mates don't go
kicking you in the head,
don't stab you
in the back, hey?
Fuck you if that's your idea
of being mates...
That's not what I meant!
Les, where are you going?
Fuck you!
Hey, you're
a bloody waste of time.
You don't do anything
around here!
Loves me, ...
...loves me not.
So don't piss on me parade
when you're happy enough
to take the spoils.
You know what I reckon?
If you went and saw Harry,
bought him a beer,
everything would sort out.
It would - let's just
nip this in the bud
before someone
really gets hurt.
- What do you want, Doll?
- Whisky.
Whisky would be nice.
Look, I know what
happened between you and Les...
didn't go according to plan.
And, look, look,
but the way I think of it
is that nobody's lost an eye,
and you've given out
payback to... good payback,
him and Henry Stokes, and...
Well, there's no more need
for any of this bad blood
that's between us.
Dolly?
Come and have a drink with me.
Help!
Oh. Thanks, Ma.
Hope you destroyed the horse.
- What horse?
- The horse that kicked you.
- Oh. Nah, not yet.
- Well, you should, Les.
Animal that's gone rogue.
Can't be safe to have
round the stables.
Better to be safe
than sorry, I say.
Well...
Who'd have thought
a bookie's clerk
would be such a dangerous job?
- Top-up?
- Mmm. Yeah.
Let me read your leaves first.
- Ma, come on.
- Now, now, Leslie.
You know I got the gift
from your gran.
Well, you see the
same thing for me every time.
Wedding bells and confetti.
I just read
what the leaves say.
A lady.
Bowl me over with a feather.
Oh, she's a special one
alright.
She's kind, considerate.
Yeah, she's got her head
screwed on alright.
Plenty of common sense.
She's brave too.
And loyal.
She'll stand by you
in a hurricane.
Ooh, and see this
little piece here?
Means she's got a heart
made for loving.
You know, she sounds like
the perfect girl.
Oh, she is.
The leaves never lie.
Well, won't it be wonderful
when you finally meet her?
Doll? Doll.
Hey, I'm really sorry
about what I said before, eh?
I was a real prick,
and I know that.
For me? Oh, Les,
you shouldn't have.
G'day, mate.
How are ya?
- Yeah, what happened to you?
- Oh, it doesn't matter.
- How was the Harbour City?
- Oh, a shithole.
- It's too bloody hot.
- I know.
And you do alright with
the Kilpatrick's bits and bobs?
- Oh, you bet I did.
- Good man.
Got over £400 in me kit.
400? Mate! Where's Doll?
- She asleep, is she?
- Nah, she's not here.
Well, I let meself in.
Yeah.
Oi, Taylor!
Oh, Doll!
Doll, come... come...
Come here. Oh!
What happened?
What happened?
Shh, shh, shh. What happened?
Hey, what happened?
Who did this?
Huh? Who did this to you?
Dolly.
It's alright.
Did you go to Fitzroy, Doll?
both Taylor and Cutmore
near the scene.
We have a farmer
who saw two men,
one of them carrying
a brown suitcase,
walking in the direction
of the car towards the weir,
the same weir from which
Detective Bruce here
retrieved
this brown suitcase...
filled with
implements of crime.
We also have an old chap
who saw them
getting into
taxi number 11-0-22
outside Cliveden Mansions
at 8am that very day.
He tells us the two men
he saw are definitely
not fellow residents.
And the accused -
Cutmore and Taylor?
Typical criminal thugs.
That's Cutmore to a tee,
but Taylor,
I reckon he's got
a bit more going on up top.
Not after he's hanged,
he won't.
Squizzy Taylor.
Your lawyer's here.
- I didn't do it.
- Me neither.
- I never killed that taxidriver.
- Me neither.
I was nowhere near Doncaster
that day.
My girlfriend will tell you.
I was with her.
Yep, and I was there too.
The police case
against you is...
a mite more substantial.
And Piggott and Brophy
are brimming with confidence.
We can't sort it out
while we're stuck in here.
Any reason you can't
arrange bail, Eugene?
£50 for him.
Hold on.
I've got two eyewitnesses.
You can't be serious.
And...
And £50 for him.
Mr Cutmore. Pub?
Oh, and how, Les.
I could go a beer.
I could murder one, in fact.
You're not worried
you'll swing?
Not if you swing
with me, Annie.
I like my business
nice and regular.
Now, a murder charge could be
somewhat problematic for you.
- Distracting.
- Henry.
I agree that your average bloke
on the street
facing the, uh, hangman's noose
may regard it
as somewhat of a problem.
See, but I, on the other hand,
I see me situation in an
altogether different complexion.
I see it as a challenge.
So how are we
gonna nobble those witnesses?
- Snowy!
- Ways and means, mate.
How's trade?
The Rats had
a lean couple of days.
- Everywhere's quiet.
- What the hell is that?
Three lines on page five.
Is that all I fuckin' rate?
What is with
that fuckin' nickname again?
- Got my name right, Squizz.
- Shut up.
Come on, fellas.
We've got work to do.
Oh, Mr Farmer!
Thank you, Mr Farmer!
I beg your pardon?
Well, the gentleman
sitting there
may resemble the shortish man
I saw getting
into the car that day,
but... as to it
actually being him?
Well, now I can't be certain.
You are the matron
of the City Watch House?
Yes.
And on the night of March 17,
the defendants
were in the cells there?
Yes, they were in
adjoining cells three and four.
Did they have
any conversation together?
They did.
- And did you hear it?
- I did.
At about 11pm, prisoner Taylor
was feeling jittery
about the eyewitnesses
ranged against 'em.
Those bloody witnesses.
Les.
Stop tapping.
Can you stop fuckin' tapping?
And then he calmed somewhat.
Did Taylor
discuss his change of heart
with Cutmore?
- He did.
- Oi, Snow.
What?
Well, the way I see it,
those bastards
can't very well pot us
if the witnesses of theirs
can't identify us.
Right. So how are we
gonna do it?
Once we've made bail...
"The bastards
can't very well pot us for it
"if those witnesses of theirs
can't identify us."
And what did you
understand from that?
That he meant to get at 'em.
Get at the witnesses.
Dolly worries about me.
She reckons
I'm gonna die young.
Someone's bound to put
a bullet in me head one day,
she reckons.
I just laugh.
She wouldn't be happy
if she didn't have
anything to worry about.
I wouldn't mind a bullet,
or even a blade.
Anything but the rope.
Good old Doll. Been looking out
for me since I was a kid.
It'd be half a day
of your time, morning at most.
- You'd be done by lunch.
- This has got sand in it.
What you're asking, Les,
I could go to jail for it.
You, go to jail? A respectable,
smooth-talking man like you?
You said yourself that me out
keeps this business
running smoothly, alright?
- This is to your advantage.
- Really?
Seems to me the advantage
only flows one way.
Business is
a two-way street, Les.
I do something for you, you
have to do something for me.
So, what are you offering?
A 10% price cut
on the sly grog.
15.
20?
Mr Stokes, where were you
on the morning of the 29th?
I was at the Crystal Cafe,
on Bourke Street.
I arrived around 10am.
Did you see
anyone you knew there?
Yes, Mr Cutmore and Mr Taylor
were at a table near the rear,
with Miss Dolly Grey.
You saw the accused
in Bourke Street,
in the city, at 10am?
The same time
the prosecution claims
they were shooting Mr Haines
a full 12 miles away
in Doncaster?
I saw them at 10:00.
They were sharing a pot of tea.
Mr Taylor was
reading the newspaper -
the 'Argus', I believe.
Squizzy! Squizzy!
Squizzy! Squizzy!
- This way, Squizzy!
- It's the press, Squizzy!
Uh, gentlemen,
it's Leslie, actually.
Glad to be found
not guilty, Squizzy?
Glad to suck the sweet air
of freedom into me lungs.
Do you have any words
for the police, Squizzy?
Oh, look, Mr Brophy and
Mr Piggott have a job to do.
I know that. It just seems
to include harassing me.
And me name's
actually Leslie...
Has being faced with a death
sentence affected you, Squizzy?
- Has it changed you?
- It's had a powerful impact.
And it's made me truly ponder
the meaning of me life.
And will you mend your ways?
Well, put it this way.
Whilst you live,
live in clover,
for when you're dead,
you're dead all over.
Squizzy, Squizzy. One more.
Oh! Sorry.
- Oh. Hello, sir.
- Hello, Squizzy.
Oh, well - glad to know
we're still doing business,
Mr Brophy, huh?
- No hard feelings?
- None.
I'm just gonna screw you
for everything while I can.
The coppers don't appreciate
being made look stupid, Les.
You shit in your own nest,
you'll choke on it.
One day, Brophy.
One day,
you'll tell your grandkids
you knew Leslie Taylor.
Knock, knock.
Or is there a secret password?
This is nice, isn't it?
Hey? Lovely.
Very, uh... very homely.
Perfect for
a little sly grogging
to the citizens of Fitzroy.
So you're free to pick pockets
again, thanks to Henry Stokes.
You must be giving his dick
a pretty solid suck.
No dick sucking involved, Harry.
We're just good friends.
Yes, well,
any mate of that bastard,
I'll take with a grain of salt.
Check it.
You think I'd sell you
watered-down? Harry!
You wound me.
You really do.
- Man of me word.
- Good thing too.
Or I'd make you eat them.
So, you doing me the same price
you're doing Stokes?
- Les!
- Arsehole!
Les! Calm down!
Look, it's not about you.
It's about him trying
to put one over Henry Stokes.
They cross the street so they
don't walk on the same cobble.
I don't care why.
He's a dickhead.
And I need every penny
I can get.
The bastards will send me
to the poorhouse.
I was thinking maybe
we could pull off a bank job.
Snowy would be in for sure,
and we could top up the coffers
for all of us
in one fell swoop.
No can do, mate. The jacks
are watching me day and night.
I can't take a slash without
Brophy or one of his uniforms
offering to shake it for me.
Right, and Snowy and Ed tell me
it's the same for them,
but it's not gonna
last forever, right?
And I'm planning to put one
over them, but until then,
we're just gonna have to keep
our heads below the battlements.
We could boost a safe, then.
We could roll a bookie.
There's a big race day...
Fuck it, Gus!
I'll come up with
the bright idea, OK?
But until then,
you'll give it a rest.
Trouble is I got a couple
of urgent domestic expenses.
Bloody Henry VIII here.
Shouldn't have too many wives.
Well, at least Gus is married.
Some men round here ain't been
down the aisle even once.
- How is Mrs Murray?
- Which one?
The landlord's been going
on and on about the rent.
And the butcher wouldn't
extend me any more credit.
But now you're home,
we can pay them all.
Of course we can.
- Love?
- Hmm?
How much do we owe exactly?
£108, six shillings
and tuppence.
Right.
Put your hands up
or I'll blow your brains out!
I'm a desperate man,
and I need all your money!
- Sorry.
- I should punch your head in.
Probably for the best
I'm in here, then.
What's the name of your accuser?
I'll have a chat.
Thanks, mate, but it's...
it's under control.
I think I'm going to have
a shot at defending myself.
Defend yourself with what?
Power of the spoken word, mate.
- Gus.
- Mate.
-No, no, no, no.
One word in the teller's ear
would be all it takes.
Les, I appreciate it,
I really do.
But it's fine.
Let it please the court
that regarding the day
in question, it is...
perpetrator of the crime
speak with an accent
indigenous to
those states of the Union
opposed to the abomination
that is human slavery,
that the perpetrator
of the crime
which bound him hand and foot,
thereafter purloining moneys
from the safe,
spoke with a...
with a Yankee accent.
What I wish to discover, in the
interest of jurisprudence...
lends itself to rigorous
testing of evidence
and the golden thread
of the assumption of innocence,
is was this truly a...
was this truly a Yankee accent?
Beg pardon?
I'll repeat the question,
shall I?
My love.
Come on.
- Don't bend over in the shower.
- Thanks for the tip, Snow.
Alright.
So you... you'll come
visit me sometime, yeah?
- Help me while away the hours?
- You can count on it.
I warned him about
doing jobs on his own.
QED - that's Latin for
"It's not my fault."
"Dear Gus, Hope this
finds you in the clover.
"Sorry I haven't
dropped by yet,
"but I've been busy, very busy.
"My advice? Keep clear
of any of Long Harry's mob.
"And remember,
if you stand tall,
"no bastard can get you down.
"Meanwhile,
I always find it helps
"to look back
on the good times."
I can't sleep.
I said, I can't sleep.
Sorry, Gus.
Dolly is always telling me,
I make things too complicated.
That's just 'cause
she doesn't understand
the way me mind works.
You see, I like being
the smartest bloke in the room.
Gives me a thrill.
But the biggest thrill
is when you dream up
an ambitious plan...
and bang, it comes off.
There's no other feeling
like it.
It's better than sex.
It's time we took our
relationship to the next level.
I've got a proposal,
a way for us both
to get ahead a little
in these difficult times.
But it's a bit... involved.
I've got a proposal
for you, Harry,
a way for us both to make a quid
in these difficult times.
Why would I do a job with you?
Well, we ain't ever
worked together, Harry.
And why is that, huh?
Why haven't the Narrows Gang
and the Bourke Street Rats
come together?
Joined forces like the Spartans
and the Persians?
The Spartans and the Persians
kicked the shit
out of each other.
Well, the point is
that we're stronger as a team.
What's the plan?
A tried and tested one.
First, we use disguises
to avoid identification.
And second, we organise a decoy
to distract the staff
while we snatch the loot.
And third, my personal
signature, we chain the door
so they can't chase us
and call the jacks.
It's brilliant, huh?
And who do we use as a fence?
- Henry Stokes.
- Stokes?
I wouldn't trust him
further than that.
He'll get us a good price.
Yes, well,
so would plenty of others.
Well, do they have
Stokes's clout and his reach?
Stokes is a liar and a cheat,
and he's from Tasmania!
I vouch for him.
What if I agree that
one of your blokes is bagman?
Matt Daly.
He carries the loot,
and he does the deal
with Stokes.
Is he reliable?
I'll vouch for him.
Mr Brophy, I want to... I want to
get us back on an even keel.
You know, back to normal.
Show...
- Show willing.
- How willing?
Word on the street is there's
gonna be a jewellery robbery.
So the jacks nab Daly
before he gets here.
And they get to look like ace
crime busters. Everybody wins.
- Except Matthew Daly.
- Yeah, well.
He'll have to do
a spot of time.
But as far as
Long Harry's concerned,
that's because Daly
attracted too much attention
and got himself arrested.
How do we make any money
out of this?
Well, Mad Matt Daly's
the decoy, right?
Snowy's the one
lifting the loot.
And unknown to Matt, he's gonna
make the lion's share disappear.
You stuff this up
and you'll have every man
in town after you.
He's got the bag. Ready?
Let's just possess ourselves
with patience.
See where he's headed.
Come on.
Brophy, grab him!
What are you doing?
Hurry up!
- Who are you?
- What are you doing here, Daly?
- Mr Stokes!
- What?
Police!
Don't move.
Fucking jack!
Don't you touch me!
Get your hands off me!
Hold your horses!
Hold your...
Where is he?
Where is the little turd?
Hey, no need
for name calling, Harry.
I should never have
fucking listened to you.
You and your stupid
fuckin' schemes.
Harry, it wasn't my fault.
Matt reckons close to a dozen
jacks turned up at Stokes's.
And I think he drew them there.
And how do you
reckon that, Leslie?
Well, he's a thug, Harry. Stomps
along like Jack the Ripper.
Any cop in town would know
that he was up to no good,
but he was your choice, so...
Anyway, look,
I'm glad you're here,
because I need to know that
we can depend on him, right?
You know, with the jacks.
Are you saying
that I would have
a filthy dog working for me?
No, I'm saying
that for all we know,
he's in there fizgigged
and putting you and me
in it right now.
Matt knows how to
keep his gob locked, Les.
What bothers me is this.
You see, it says that
1,435 quid's worth of rings
was taken from Kilpatrick's.
But when the jacks
nabbed Matt and Stokes,
they only had 300 quid's worth.
Well, that leaves over £1,000
worth of sparklers missing.
- Where have they got to?
- I don't know.
Maybe their report's wrong,
Harry. Hey?
Or Kilpatrick's are running
an insurance scam, eh?
- Upping their losses.
- No, no, no, I don't think so.
You see, I think
that someone has dudded me.
- Dudded ya?
- Yes, dudded me.
And I know who.
Henry fucking Stokes!
Yeah, well,
what makes you think it's him?
Because he is the only prick
that I know
who has got
the sly, calculating brain
capable enough of coming up
with a scheme like this!
I'm tellin' you, Les,
if Matt goes down,
I am gonna find Stokes,
I am going to cut off his head
and I am going
to shit down his neck!
OK, well,
we'll sort it out, hey, Harry?
You just relax, hey?
Take a seat.
Bunny. You're
making me nervous, mate.
- Come on, Doll. Make 'em a brew.
- Cup of tea?
Cup of tea would be great,
Doll. Thank you very much.
Well, have a seat.
Have a seat, everyone.
Squizzy Taylor
had learned a thing or two
about the court process
during his murder trial.
He'd discovered that
as part of full disclosure,
jury members'
names and addresses
were posted for all to see.
A few quid to the right jurymen
and Stokes's and Daly's
chances of acquittal
looked a whole lot brighter.
Hopefully, all the bad blood
his scheming had caused
would soon be
water under the bridge.
Mr Stokes, the police claim
when they arrived
at your business premises,
they found rings
stolen from Kilpatrick's
on your desk.
Mr Stokes, you said in your
original statement to police
that at no time
did Mr Daly offer
to sell you rings stolen
from Kilpatrick's jeweller's.
Are you now saying he did
offer you stolen property?
No, he never offered
to sell them to me.
We find the defendant...
not guilty.
Even though
his man had been acquitted,
Long Harry was far from happy.
There was still the little
matter of a missing £1,000.
Happy days, Doll, hey?
All's well that ends well.
- You heard from Cutmore yet?
- Uh, yeah.
He's got onto
the best fence in Sydney,
some... sheila
called Kate Leigh.
He's gonna be back any day now,
and our pockets
will be that much richer.
Well, well, well. Stokes
the thief with his pet rat.
Be careful.
You might catch fleas.
Hold him.
You can hear me
good and clear, can ya?
Listen up. You ain't welcome
in Fitzroy no more, Squizzy.
Your good mate over there
neither.
No-one that you work for.
No-one who works for you.
Fitzroy, Carlton, Collingwood,
it's all my territory.
If I see any of youse
north of Victoria Street,
I will kill ya.
Hey, Les. Les!
What do you reckon?
As a seamstress,
do I make a good prossie?
Oh, I forgot to tell ya.
I got a card from Tankbuster,
all the way from France.
He looks handsome, doesn't he?
"Dear Dolly, Greetings from
the land of frogs and garlic,
"though I haven't seen
neither of them,
"just mud and more mud."
You can read it later.
Let's, um...
Let's do something fun, Les.
Let's go to the pictures.
The only thing I feel like doing
is kicking the shit
out of Long Harry's fat head.
He really said we weren't
to go to Fitzroy anymore?
And I'll return the favour.
I'll slit his throat
if he comes down here.
You know what I reckon?
If you went and saw Harry,
bought him a beer,
everything would sort out.
Let's just nip it in the bud
before someone
really gets hurt.
- Before someone gets hurt?
- Well...
He almost split me skull, Doll.
- You brought that on yourself.
- Brought it on meself?
Playing people off
against each other.
Doublecrossing, triplecrossing.
You're always
trying to prove you're
smarter than everybody else,
and I don't know why -
what's it all for?
I'll tell you
what it's fuckin' for.
Where did this come from, hey?
Hey? And this shit? Huh?
My mental schemes mean
that you don't have to
spread your legs day and night,
so don't piss on me parade
when you're happy enough
to take the spoils.
All I'm saying is that someone
has got to pull their head in.
Few days ago,
there was none of this silly
"my territory, your territory".
- It was all just mates.
- Mates?
Well, mates don't go
kicking you in the head,
don't stab you
in the back, hey?
Fuck you if that's your idea
of being mates...
That's not what I meant!
Les, where are you going?
Fuck you!
Hey, you're
a bloody waste of time.
You don't do anything
around here!
Loves me, ...
...loves me not.
So don't piss on me parade
when you're happy enough
to take the spoils.
You know what I reckon?
If you went and saw Harry,
bought him a beer,
everything would sort out.
It would - let's just
nip this in the bud
before someone
really gets hurt.
- What do you want, Doll?
- Whisky.
Whisky would be nice.
Look, I know what
happened between you and Les...
didn't go according to plan.
And, look, look,
but the way I think of it
is that nobody's lost an eye,
and you've given out
payback to... good payback,
him and Henry Stokes, and...
Well, there's no more need
for any of this bad blood
that's between us.
Dolly?
Come and have a drink with me.
Help!
Oh. Thanks, Ma.
Hope you destroyed the horse.
- What horse?
- The horse that kicked you.
- Oh. Nah, not yet.
- Well, you should, Les.
Animal that's gone rogue.
Can't be safe to have
round the stables.
Better to be safe
than sorry, I say.
Well...
Who'd have thought
a bookie's clerk
would be such a dangerous job?
- Top-up?
- Mmm. Yeah.
Let me read your leaves first.
- Ma, come on.
- Now, now, Leslie.
You know I got the gift
from your gran.
Well, you see the
same thing for me every time.
Wedding bells and confetti.
I just read
what the leaves say.
A lady.
Bowl me over with a feather.
Oh, she's a special one
alright.
She's kind, considerate.
Yeah, she's got her head
screwed on alright.
Plenty of common sense.
She's brave too.
And loyal.
She'll stand by you
in a hurricane.
Ooh, and see this
little piece here?
Means she's got a heart
made for loving.
You know, she sounds like
the perfect girl.
Oh, she is.
The leaves never lie.
Well, won't it be wonderful
when you finally meet her?
Doll? Doll.
Hey, I'm really sorry
about what I said before, eh?
I was a real prick,
and I know that.
For me? Oh, Les,
you shouldn't have.
G'day, mate.
How are ya?
- Yeah, what happened to you?
- Oh, it doesn't matter.
- How was the Harbour City?
- Oh, a shithole.
- It's too bloody hot.
- I know.
And you do alright with
the Kilpatrick's bits and bobs?
- Oh, you bet I did.
- Good man.
Got over £400 in me kit.
400? Mate! Where's Doll?
- She asleep, is she?
- Nah, she's not here.
Well, I let meself in.
Yeah.
Oi, Taylor!
Oh, Doll!
Doll, come... come...
Come here. Oh!
What happened?
What happened?
Shh, shh, shh. What happened?
Hey, what happened?
Who did this?
Huh? Who did this to you?
Dolly.
It's alright.
Did you go to Fitzroy, Doll?