All language subtitles for City Homicide s01e03 Lie Down With Dogs.eng

Madre di Dio!!

What's going on, mate?
I've been here all morning.

Bit early for a funeral.
Sicilians, mate.

Dawn burial's a tradition
in some parts.

Scusa.
Of Melbourne?

Hey, what's going on?
Sicily, dickhead.

Excuse me, excuse me.

Scusa.

They all wanna know
what's gonna happen.

You're just gonna have to tell them
all to go home, Sergeant.

There won't be a burial today.

I can't tell them that.
I'll have a riot on my hands.

So get their priest to tell them.
Very sensitive of you, Duncan.

Well, that's original.
Dead body in a cemetery.

Been shot.

Bet he needed that
like a hole in the head.

No dust. No footprints.

No drag marks.
No exit wound.

This could've been a.22.

It's a dry environment.
He looks desiccated.

It's hard to say how long
he's been here, though.

More than six months, I'd say.

How did they get in? Don't they
have locks on these places?

Seen that lock?

It's easier to pick than a set
of fake ones at the beach.

Family'd have a key.
Who's the incoming?

Alfonso PretaDOrini.

Is that right?
Yeah.

Alfonso PretadoRINI was 73.

He was joining his parents
in the crypt after five years.

Right. So who is this guy?
A relative?

The corpse's name
is Michael Gregory Booth.

No connection
to the Pretadorini family.

The X-rays confirm his identity as well.

Booth was a standover man.

Armed robbery, three murder charges -
none proven.

He broke his left leg in an armoured
van hold-up eight years ago.

Yeah. They match alright.

Sounds like someone did the world
a favour putting a bullet in this guy.

What's the estimate
on when he was killed?

12 months, give or take -
obviously he wasn't killed at the site.

The pyjamas would suggest
it happened closer to home.

Yeah. I'm tipping the bedroom.

Jennifer, you and Duncan
do the death knock.

Matt and Simon, go see Armed Robbery.

Tell them they can take Booth
off their books.

They'll probably buy you a drink.

You sure this is the right place?

It's what their boss
at Armed Robbery said.

So, what happened to the phone
and why couldn't he call them?

It's the Armed Robbery Squad.
They're not right in the head.

Bang! Superintendent
gave us the heads up.

Homicide, right?
It was a joke.

Yeah. I'll let my dry cleaner know.

Oi, Shads!

Welcome, guys.

I'm Ernie Calabrese.
This is my partner, Barry Shadow.

Shads, say hello to Homicide, eh?

Superintendent Jarvis said
you had some good news for me.

Why couldn't he tell us himself?

Yeah. We were wondering
the same thing.

Surveillance?
Wow. No wonder you're in Homicide.

So, who you waiting on?

One bad mongrel.
Went to ground. Months.

But he'll resurface,
and, when he does, we'll be ready.

So, what do we have here?

Someone forgot to pay
their parking fines.

Um, this surveillance -

your, uh... your subjects
wouldn't be the Booth family

by any chance, would they?

Oh, your boss!
He does have a sense of humour.

He must've thought
it'd be funnier coming in person.

Oh, yeah? What?

If you're waiting on Mick Booth
to show up, he won't.

He's dead.

Bullshit.

More than a year. We found his body
a couple of days ago.

Bullshit!
What?!

Sorry, ladies, but you're
waiting on a dead man.

They're our colleagues
doing the death knock.

So how do you wanna do this?
I dunno.

We just ring the doorbell, tell them
their mongrel husband's dead,

and we'll just bugger off.

I'll get it.

Ha. Let me guess. Mormons.

Cathy Booth, I'm Detective Freeman...

I know what you are,
and unless you've got a warrant,

you know what you can do.

Go on, piss off.
Mum!

What do you lot want?

Bloody Jacks!

Unless you've got a warrant...

Ooh, they're all getting into it!
Ooh, I hope your mates are up to it.

Up to what?
Oh?

Haven't met the Booth clan before?

...months you've been hassling us!
"Where is he?"

Shut up!

And now you try this on!
We're not Armed Robbery!

Look at us. We're Homicide.

We've just come to tell you
Mick Booth's dead.

End of message, OK?

NO!

Oh, Ray!

Uh-oh.

It's all lies!
You're bloody lying!

It's alright, Cath,
it's just more games.

My brother's not dead, you bastards!

This is an AR wind-up!
Mate, calm down, OK?

We're not from Armed Robbery.
We're from Homicide.

Call the Coroner's Office.
Mick was murdered. Someone shot him.

NO!
You lying bitch!

I said piss off!
Hey!

Get off him!

And we are on!

How do we get down there?
Stairs. That way.

Come on, pig!

Ahh!
Get off him!

Get off my son!
You leave him alone!

Oof!
Get off him.

Get off him!

Get down on the ground!
Get on the ground!

Stop, bastard!
Stop?

Go, boys!

Little cut, pussy?
You're bleeding. Aww.

Get the handcuffs on.
Give it back!

Need a hand?

So, uh, which interview are we getting?

None. You're in the viewing room.

What are you talking about?
We know the Booths here.

You've been watching them for
12 months, waiting for a dead man.

Ease up. We're all
on the same team here, remember?

Oh, are we?
Well, I must've missed that!

While me and my real mates

were getting the seven colours
kicked out of us,

you were taking happy snaps for
your Armed Robbery Christmas party!

OK, OK.

Listen, in retrospect, not a good idea.

Apologies. Now, interview. Come on.

Uh, we do this. You haven't
got any info on the murder.

So share the bloody info!
OK.

If one of them didn't do it,
they know who did. We'll find out.

While you and dickhead number two
can watch from the viewing room.

You don't like it, piss off!

Viewing room's through there, boys.

The boss isn't gonna wear this.

Your brother was shot in the head.

Close range.

He was still in his pyjamas.

He sleepwalks.

See, that ring's
an offensive weapon.

More like a knuckleduster.

And you add resist arrest,
attack police, inciting a brawl.

You're in big trouble, mate.

So why don't you just be sensible
and talk to us?

Mum told me not to talk to strangers.

Especially a poof like you.

That was good advice.

He was shot with a.22.

Any ideas?
Yeah.

Must've been the bullet
that killed him.

Amateurs.

When was the last time
you saw your dad?

Christmas.

He came down the chimney all dressed
in red, with a long, white beard.

That's funny. That's funny.

For a dickhead, that is funny.

What's the story, Ray?

You move in since Mick went
on the missing list, eh?

You and Cath an item now, are you?

You'll keep, mate.

You're on
a suspended sentence, Ray.

You just assaulted police.

You go straight back to jail
without passing "Go'.

Or you could tell us what
you think happened to Mick.

I wouldn't give you people
the steam off my piss.

I wanna see his body.

He's not the man he was
in his photograph.

He's a lot thinner, you know.

He can't say that to me!

When did you last see your husband?

Oh, he went out for a drink...
Oh, I don't remember the date.

I'm in bloody shock here!

Can you think of anyone
who wanted him dead?

Oh, yeah. Try Armed Robbery.

That lot never left him alone.

Well, that's because he kept
robbing banks, you stupid cow!

Mick was in his pyjamas
when he was shot.

What do you make of that?

She's having you on, you dummies!

Jarvis is gonna have
this lot for breakfast.

Oh, here he is.

Check him out, will you?

So, are we clear on this?

No, we're not -
as far as I'm concerned,

if Armed Robbery want
to take this one off our books,

they're more than welcome to it,

especially when it comes
to this Booth mob.

Stanley, I do not like
Superintendent Jarvis.

He does not like me.

Under no circumstances am I
gonna hand him this case on a plate!

Long time no speak, Bernice.
How's it going?

How are you, Terry?
Still nailing them?

Yeah. Like she needs to ask.

Hearing good things about you,
Stanley. Clearing a few.

We do our best, Superintendent.

Terry. No need for formalities.

Sit.

Yeah.

How's poor old Sparkesy doing?

Uh, he's, uh, improving.
Still in the cardiac...

Oh, well, it had to happen.
He was porking it on.

Now, listen,

my boys tell me they've been excluded
from the interview process.

What's the SP on that, Stan?

It's a Homicide investigation, Terry.
Look, I'm hearing you.

But we've been with this Booth clan
for 15 years.

If anyone's gonna nail
Mick's murderer,

it's not gonna be your mob -
no offence.

No offence taken.

What's your feelings
on this, Bernice?

Oh. Entirely Stanley's call.

Great result.

I hear you're releasing
the Booths on bail.

They're being processed
as we speak, except for Ray.

He's got two years outstanding.

So, uh, no breakthrough
on the armed robberies, huh?

Nothing on Mick Senior's murder?

No. We usually wait for evidence
before we go for the jugular.

Yeah, yeah, that's right.

Yeah, you really got them
to open up, didn't you?

You might as well
have given them an IQ test.

Same result - zero.

Calabrese, haven't you
got somewhere to be?

A few swift taps
over the head with a phone book.

A little accident on the way
to the toilets.

That's the only interviews
the Booths are gonna relate to, boys.

We're more progressive
than that around here.

At least our knuckles don't drag
on the ground for starters.

You're outta line, prick.
Oh, yeah, really?

Hey, hey, hey, come on!
Fellas, just take it easy.

The lifts are that way, alright?

Come on, Shads.
Come on, Shads, leave it.

Let's leave these girls
to their computers, you know.

This case'll be back
on our slot soon, anyway.

You wankers.

So, what are you telling me, Wolfe?

You're refusing to hand over
the investigation?

As per reasons given.
It's a question of jurisdiction.

Don't talk to me about jurisdiction!

I've got a string of bloody
armed robberies to investigate!

Oh, those'd be the bank robberies
committed in the last 12 months -

the ones you believed
Mick Booth to be responsible for.

Dead men robbing banks, Terry...

Not our finest hour, maybe, Bernice.

But whoever bumped Mick
was in on those robberies.

They left his trademark
signature all over it. Huh?

The limp, the shotties
when they went into the bank.

They could use him for cover
'cause they knew he was dead.

We realise that, and we're looking
for evidence to support it.

Still don't see how this puts
the investigation

back in your territory.

What did I just explain? Huh?

I mean, I don't see
what the problem is here.

Well, the problem is as Stanley
has already explained to you.

If your crew doesn't solve this,
it goes back into our court,

which puts a dent
in our clear-up rates.

I don't appreciate this, BERNICE.

And we've got a dead body
in the morgue.

We're obliged to investigate.

Mick Booth's not a dead body.
He's a dead dog.

He's a dead piece of garbage.
He is a homicide victim.

And we'd appreciate anything
you can give us from your robberies

to help us with our murder.

You think you're a big shot.
You clown.

This ain't over.

You just made yourself
an enemy there, Stanley.

I'm a big boy, Bernice.

Uh, Ms Semple?

This way.

Jennifer Mapplethorpe.

You're with Downing Stark
& Lidcombe, aren't you?

That's correct.

I thought they only did
corporate work.

Not exclusively.

We do take some criminal cases.
Oh.

Usually clients with whom we've had
a history prior to joining the firm.

If you're asking about Michael Booth,

he was, I think, my... third client ever.

Thanks for coming in.
No trouble.

I finished late in court.
Please.

How was she in the lift?
Tense.

Mmm. Sit in.

Take a seat, Ms Semple.

My clerk said this had to do
with Michael Booth.

Do you have him in custody?

If we did, you would be his legal
representative, is that right?

I'd imagine so.
I've been his lawyer for a long time.

What is this about?

You'd be aware that Mr Booth
disappeared a year ago.

Disappeared is a somewhat,
um, dramatic characterisation.

We've been looking into his history.

He came to see you twice in one week
just before he fell off the radar.

Could you tell us
what that was about?

No.

Client confidentiality,
as you well know, Detective.

Though, there are matters outstanding
I need to speak with him about.

If he has resurfaced, I might be able
to persuade him to talk to you.

Do you know where he is?

He's in the morgue.

This is a murder inquiry - his murder.

Oh... What... what happened?

It's probably got something to do
with the eight armed robberies

committed in the past 12 months

by someone passing themselves off
as Mick Booth.

Ms Semple, would you like
a glass of water?

No. It's a... shock, that's all.

I represented Michael Booth
for nearly 20 years.

Actually rather liked the man.

Lovable rogue, huh?

My bet is
if we pull the footage

from the security camera in that lift,

she will be crying her eyes out.

Check her out. Start with when
she first represented Mick Booth.

How'd you go?
Interesting.

I think I'll look over her old cases
tonight and check for crossovers.

Sounds like fun.

You know this'd be so much easier

if those knobheads from Armed
Robbery'd share their stuff with us.

Buckley's, mate.

I think I might
head home too, eh?

12 hours of this
is enough for anyone.

Sarge?
Mmm. Duncan.

Just a question.

Is Jen Mapplethorpe
a permanent part of our team now?

Or what?

Why do you ask?
Do you have a problem with her?

Well, nothing personal.
Just our styles.

They don't mesh.

And Matt and Simon were interested
in knowing what's going on.

Were they, now?

Just so everyone is on the same page,

DSS Sparkes's crew has been absorbed
into the rest of the unit

until he gets back on his feet,
which could be some time.

So consider Jennifer a semipermanent
part of the furniture, OK?

What brought that on?

Alright, what'd you say to him?

I just wanted to know where we stood.

Together wouldn't be
a bad idea, mate.

See, that's why
we call him Dunny - full of crap.

Get over it, Duncan.

Semipermanent's an oxymoron anyway.

If it makes you feel better,
put your money on semi.

Morning.

Morning.
Morning, Senior Sergeant.

Bernice.

You know, I have to say
I'm not convinced

the lurex adds
to your air of authority.

Uh, that would be,
uh, spandex, Bernice.

How's the Booth investigation coming?

Slowly.

Well, I would hate Terry Jarvis
to get one over on us.

In that case,
maybe you could twist his arm,

see if you can get some
cooperation going, Bernice.

Hmm?

We need those armed robbery tapes.

I put in a formal request
two days ago.

He must've overlooked it, then.

You want this solved,
I need those tapes.

You'll get them.

Bastard.

Sarge, can I've a word?

Uh, if you haven't got a problem
with the spandex.

No.

I went through Victoria Semple's
cases last night, going right back.

She had a big gap in her court work
for just over a year.

So I dug a little deeper.

Ta-da. Brett Semple.

Victoria Semple's son.
Hmm.

She registered the birth
as a single parent.

Remind you of anyone?

Well, do you think he's Mick Booth's?

Yeah. Got the same eyes.

Born two years after
she first represented Booth.

He's 18 now,

at a nice, posh school
in the eastern suburbs.

Think we should talk to him?
Take Simon.

Let's send his mother a message.

Ohh!

Ahh!

Come on, guys, that's enough of that.

Let's have a free hit
at the top of the circle.

Brett!

Uh, mate, there's someone over there
who wants to see you.

So, hockey.
Yeah. It's a girls' game.

So, what do you want?

Sorry, um, he said you're the police.

Yeah. I'm Detective Joyner.
This is Detective Mapplethorpe.

Is my mum alright?

Yeah, mate, it's got nothing
to do with her.

It's about this man.

Who is he? He looks dangerous.

He used to be a client
of your mother's.

What do you mean "used to be"?
Yeah, he's dead.

Really?

No. Sorry. I don't know him.

Your mother never mentioned
a Mick Booth?

Uh, no. I don't get
to see my mother that much.

I'm a weekday boarder here.

Even though home's only
a 15-minute drive away?

Yeah, well...
I don't know. She's busy.

And, well, I don't actually
get along with her that well.

Apparently
I'm at that difficult age.

What about your dad?
Do you get on with your dad?

No. My father died
before I was born.

So she stopped talking about him.
I stopped asking.

I don't know.

Shouldn't you be speaking
to her about this?

Mmm.
Oh, we will be.

Ms Semple, if you'd like
to just wait here.

How dare you send your people
to speak to my son

without my permission!

It is outright blackmail
and intimidation!

You are angry.

He is just a child!

He is 18 years of age.
We do not need your permission.

You know that. You're a lawyer.

Jennifer?

Female present - uh, protocol.

So tell us about Mick Booth,

about him being Brett's father.

You people.

You sneer at us
for defending criminals,

and then you're worse
than they could ever be.

I'm investigating a murder here,
Ms Semple.

I don't have time to tiptoe
around your sensibilities.

I'll protect your reputation
if I can,

but that is all I can promise.

I don't give a damn
about my so-called reputation!

What about my son?!
Have you even thought about that?!

Whatever your son learns
is out of my hands.

Perhaps you should've been
honest from the beginning.

Mick Booth. Tell us about him.

And then you can go and say
whatever you need to say to your son.

Please.

The meetings I had with Michael
just before he disappeared,

they weren't business.

They were excuses to meet.

We were in love.

That probably sounds absurd to you.

Well, we're not talking
Abelard and Heloise here.

Mick Booth was a violent criminal.

And I was not somehow turned on
by his wicked ways,

if that's what you think -
I'm not that stupid or naive.

He was a criminal, yes.

He was also a good man.

When I fell pregnant,
he was supportive in every way.

He wanted the best for Brett.

But he refused to see him.

Brett was different
from his other sons.

He said he was afraid
that he might somehow...

...taint him.

They never met.

He paid for his schooling
and helped me when things were tough.

He called us his... second chance.

As I said, he was...

He wanted to become a good man.

Any idea who might've killed him?

Every idea.

He was going to tell his wife
about us -

about me and Brett.

He was going to leave Cathy.

Imagine telling Cathy Booth
you betrayed her, and you had a kid.

She probably waited till he was
asleep, put the gun to his head,

woke him up and bang.

Yeah. It's cool, babe.
Yeah, we're on top of this one.

I'll be free tonight. On my life.

Gotta go. See you.

The warrant. Get over to
the Booth place and pick up Cathy.

Sure you don't want backup?
No. We're fine.

Well, they're a pretty
wild bunch, the Booths.

No room for pride here.
No, we're good, Sarge.

You get your filthy hands
off me!

Shut up, Cath.
You bastards!

You could've at least let me
get dressed! You bastards!

Huh? Takes two of youse! Tough boys!

I'll put your nuts in the blender!
Bastard! Get cancer, Calabrese!

Have to find a blender big enough!

What are you doing here?
We solved the murder for you guys.

Yeah, yeah. You push papers.
We kick doors down.

You bastards!
Shut up.

Yeah, we got a tip-off about the shotgun
that was used in the robbery.

Thought we'd take a look -
with a warrant, of course.

Doing real police work,
unlike yourselves.

Didn't find the shotties, but we did
manage to find, what, three handguns?

Two revolvers
and a, uh... and an automatic.

Oh, and this, uh, pissy little.22.

All wrapped up in plastic
and, uh, buried in the backyard.

So, there you go.

Pop! Got you again.
You never learn, do you?

Leave it, Dunny.

As good in bed
as his brother?

Bastard.

Come on, tell us, Cath.

Seriously, like, if you had a choice,
right, between the two,

if you could bring back time,
who's the biggest stud?

Mick or Ray?

You, Calabrese. You prick.

Just about over
bar the shouting, eh, Stan?

Be nice now.
Is that why you offed Mick?

So you could root Ray? Huh?

I didn't off anybody.

He was in his PJs in bed.

Shot with this little girlie gun.

Ooh-ooh.

Kiss my arse.

Mick would've been mortified.
He was a large-calibre man.

Got the ballistics, Cath.

This is the bullet that was
rattling around in his skull.

Shot from this gun.

Doesn't tell you who pulled
the trigger, though, does it?

Mmm?

She's right, you know.
Mmm.

Yeah, yeah, she's got us there.

So this is what I'm gonna do.

Worked it out. Mm-hm.

I'm going to bring in Mick Junior
and Colin.

Don't worry about Raymond -
he's stuffed anyway.

And I'm gonna charge them
with conspiracy to murder.

They would've had to have helped her
with, you know, moving the body.

Yeah?
Definitely.

Then I'm gonna throw them
into the remand centre

with all those
Ionely, lovely individuals.

Mmm.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but Colin's
a pretty good-Iooking boy, isn't he?

Mm. He's big, though.
He's not that big.

Colin was always her favourite.

Come on, Cath. You bumped him.

And I know why.
Who wouldn't wanna kill him?

Eh? You gave him, what,
the best years?

30? What?
You met when you were 16.

You gave him the best years
of your life!

You really are a dirty dog,
Calabrese.

Come on, Cath.

Two sons.

Two, I give him.

Three miscarriages I had as well!

Then... then he tells me

he's been rooting his lawyer.

Has been for 20 years!

Prick.
Christ, they have a son!

He... he tells me all this!

And then he calmly
takes himself off to bed.

You gotta be joking.

A.22? Don't embarrass me.

Don't embarrass yourself.

It's done! Get over it!

You bastard!

You cheating, lying,
miserable bastard!

I hate you!
Jesus, Mum!

You bastard! The lying bastard!

He deserved what he got!

He deserved it!

Oh, by the way, Stan, those tapes
you wanted of the bank job -

I had them couriered over.

Not that there's a lot
of point now, is there?

Oh. You got one dead
in the water there, Bernice.

Stanley!

Terry.

He's already been in Mulholland's ear

about how he's solved
your case for you.

The Assistant Commissioner
loved that.

Well, the murder got solved.
The job's done.

And Terry Jarvis got one over on us,

which is exactly
what I wanted to avoid.

His media release.

Makes us look like idiots.

We're gonna look like
even bigger idiots

with Cathy Booth's picture
spread all over the paper tomorrow.

So, he solved our homicide.

We might just have a go
at eight of his armed robs for him.

That is not
our job, Bernice.

YOUR job is whatever
I tell you it is.

You got those tapes?
Start with those.

CCTV footage on each
of the banks that was hit.

Go through the robberies?
It's not our job, Sarge.

Your job is whatever
I tell you it is.

It's not about the job,
though, is it?

Jarvis's mob screwed us, so...

So, get on with it.

We view them all.

Jennifer and Matt, that's your job.

Simon and Duncan, start on all
the paper that we have on Booth.

His entire history A to Z.

It's gonna be a long night,

so feel free to get some pizzas
and use petty cash.

I expect a result.

And a receipt.

No, no, no, no, no. I can't do this.

I promised on my life to be
at this thing with Claire tonight.

I can't let her down again.

Alright, look, you help me
get the Booth files into shape,

and we'll cover for you -
take off a couple of hours.

What? You sure?

Will three or four hours do you?
Yeah, yeah, no, that's plenty.

Alright. Three or four hours, max.

? Ohh

? Ooh

? I'm watching you

? Yeah

? Ooh, babe

? I'm watching you

? Yeah, yeah

? Keeping time in the back line

? You really got the moves, oh

? The people round you
working overtime

? Hey, boy, you know just what to do

? So, ooh

? I'm watching you

? Baby

? Ooh, yeah

? I'm watching you

? Oh

? You really got that
movie-retro style

Your individuality...

Babe! You made it.

What is the big deal?
It's an industry party!

You weren't here.
They're just having some fun!

It's a couple of pipes.
We've had this conversation, Claire.

Yeah. Ad nauseam, actually.

I didn't do anything.
Well, you don't have to.

I'm a detective. You're my fianc?e.

You get caught using this stuff,
then I'll kiss my job goodbye.

This is not about your work!

No. It's about you.

When was the last time you used?

No, no, don't talk to me
like I'm one of your suspects.

Hey, guys.
Hey.

Look, I hope I haven't got
your lovely lady into any trouble.

Just celebrating another
great launch. That's all.

Now, listen, Zorba...
Actually, it's Zabor.

I know what your name is, you jerk.

If you don't wanna
carry your head home in a handbag,

get your hands off my fianc?e now.

And get back to your little party.

Sure. No problem.

Your detective's quite
the macho man, isn't he?

We'll talk soon.

That's brilliant. Thanks.
You wanna lose me his business?

I think he's interested in a little
bit more than business, Claire.

Come on!

Look, Claire, I'm here.

Let's just forget about it.

Claire, please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

OK?

Phone.

Off.

OK.

Are you gonna be fun?
Yes.

I'm gonna be... I'm gonna be fun.

OK?
Mmm.

Well, that was a long four hours.

I'm sorry, guys.
Things got complicated.

Coffees?

Wolfie in yet?
No, you beat him to it.

You're lucky he rides a pushbike.

How'd we go? What's the deal?

Uh, zilch, as far as, ah, we can tell.

Booth's list of associates
doesn't include anyone

with the wit to come up
with the impersonation scam.

Especially his family.

Plus, at the same time
as one of the bank jobs,

Ray Booth was being interviewed
by police about some ram raids.

Whoever hit on those banks
killed a teller during one of those jobs.

You missed seeing this.

The guy at the door
does the shooting.

The teller presses the silent alarm
and the bloke at the door sees it.

And then there's a scuffle.

Then he marches back in there,
fronts up to the teller

and bang.

Psycho. He was itching to do that.

That was the fifth job
in a run of eight,

all since Booth's been dead.

The tattoo matches one on the back
of Mick Booth's right hand.

Fake, obviously,
along with the gimpy walk.

Tell me you've got something.

Bugger.
Quite.

Yes, Sarge, we've made some progress.

You see this?
The tattoo.

It's fake.
No, no, not the tattoo.

The tan line on his finger.

This guy wears a ring.
A bloody big ring.

More like a knuckleduster.

Let me go, you stupid prick!
Settle down.

What, three of youse
to drag me out of bed, huh?

Scared of getting another beating?
Sit down.

Your ring.

Put your right hand palm down
on the desk. Now.

You want to make this easy?
Or you want to make this hard?

Could be anybody's hand.

Except it's not. It's yours.

That photo was taken during
a bank job where a teller was killed.

Yeah, so we're not talking
assaulting police now.

We're talking murder.

Now, we know you didn't
shoot the teller, Colin,

but, hey, same place, same robbery -
we don't care.

So, you either tell us who did right now,
or we charge you with murder.

Piss off.

You knew your mum had killed
your old man, didn't you?

Hey, she shot him by accident.
Right between the eyes.

Then you impersonated him
during the robberies.

You watch telly, Colin?
All that forensic crap.

Yeah, so, what?
Well, it's not crap, mate.

They don't do it as fast
as they do on the telly,

but eventually, mate,
they get it right.

We can do a test on that section
of your hand right there

for ink residue.

Ink residue - for a fake tattoo.

You're a dog's dinner, mate.

Now, you either tell us who did
those robberies with you

and who shot that teller,
otherwise you wear the murder.

Was it your brother?
Or was it your uncle Ray?

You think you know
every bloody thing, don't you?

It wasn't either of them!

That little prick.

He comes, he finds us,
he tries to crawl up Mum's arse.

I'm her bloody son, not him.

Brett Semple.
Yes.

Pick him up.

He turns up one night,
this big kid - Mick's eyes.

Just comes outta nowhere.

Says he's seen letters,
school payments.

Found out who his dad was.

Ha! Like a bloody
birthday present, it was.

Well, I'd sorted Mick out
for what he'd done.

Never got a go at her, but.

Their kid was a way to do that.

Make her suffer.

So, then you got him involved
in the armed robberies?

Well, he wanted to be
like his dad, didn't he?

I was happy to help.

Drag him down.
Take her with him. Bitch.

I didn't think he'd go for it.

Public school wuss!

But it was like he... he
just couldn't wait, you know?

But after a couple of gigs,

he... he took over...
like he was born to it.

So, if you wanted
to drag his mother down,

why didn't you just turn him in?

I got scared.

I realised he wasn't
like Mick at all.

How so?

Mick wasn't a bloody psychopath.

Ms Semple.

You're supposed
to leave us alone now!

We need to speak to your son.

Why should I let you?
You people have done enough harm.

Well, we can always come back
with some uniforms.

And a warrant.

Ms Semple, it would be much easier
if we did it now,

get it over and done with.

Fine.

I'm talking to my own lawyers
about this. You have no right...

GUN!

Ahh!

Oh!

Ohhh!

God!

Ohh!

What have you done?!

Get away from him!

Ahh!

Ohh!

What have you done?!

Oh. There you go. Your tapes.

We're keeping score, are we?

I'll bet Wolfe enjoyed this one too.

I don't think anyone's enjoying
themselves much right now, Terry.

Even if it is eight goals to one.

They must be really feeling it.
Yeah, they are.

I've spoken to a counsellor.

Appointments have been arranged.

That's not my thing, boss.

No, that's not negotiable, Simon.

You'll take time off too

and only come back when
the counsellor says you can.

Now, if at any time you feel the need

to talk to anybody
apart from the counsellor,

my door is always open, OK?

At home as well.

How's Victoria Semple?

She accompanied her son
to the morgue.

She had to be sedated.

Whose bullet was it?

Hmm?

Well, Simon and I
got off three shots.

Only one of them hit the boy.
Mmm. Yeah, that's right.

So, who fired the killing shot?
Me or Simon?

We won't know that
until we get the report in.

But I'm staying on ESD
and moving it along.

Play it so smart...

Another one.

? It's broken, but time will fix that

? Please don't give up on me

? Help me out

? I am a loaded gun

Ready to fire...

? Goes on and on

And on...

Jennifer. It's Stanley Wolfe.

Sarge?

The lab report came through.

The bullet - it was yours.

I'm sorry.
Thanks for letting me know.

Jennifer?

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