All language subtitles for Rake.S01E01.1080p.BluRay.DD2.0.x264-SbR_track4_[eng]

(CHAOTIC VERSION OF
'THE BLUE DANUBE'
BY JOHANN STRAUSS)

I thought we were going to Mick's.

I don't have a lot of time, mate.
I've gotta be at the club at 10:00.

Get out of the car, Cleave.

Oh, come on, mate.
Mick knows I'm good for it.

Christ, I reckon I've put
both of his boys through Cranbrook.

None of us feel good
about this, Cleave,

not Mick, not me.

After what you done
for my brothers...

Oh, well, yeah,
now that you mention it, Col.

Mick's got some serious
cash flow issues.

He had to take on
a new business partner.

He can't be seen to be weak.

I can't be seen to be weak either,
not right now, mate.

Oh, come on, Col.

Oh!

Ohh!

Fixed terms of trade now,
Cleave - 14 days.

Hey!

Mmm, nice.

You should go to the hospital.

You'll do.

Oh... Oh, easy, tiger!

Oh, fuck.

So we get to this bar in Belacena,
I think it was,

and there's this guy...

Blindfold guy?
Uh-huh.

..and he could play
20 games of chess at once.

What? Some sort of Spanish Rain Man?

I swear!

I'd be wanting to see the thread count
on that blindfold, by the way.

Arggh!

So his girlfriend
told him the moves,

he couldn't see a thing,

but he remembered every
single square on every board.

He just strolled around the tables,
drinking pernod and playing chess.

Who won?
The guy in the blindfold.

Oh, there's a surprise.

But my dad gave him
a run for his money.

Ohh!

What? Is she sitting
out there timing us?

This economic climate's turning every
decent vendor in this town into a reptile.

First my bookie,
now my brothel keeper.

12,000 years I've been
coming to this place.

Think I would've accrued some
frequent fucker points by now.

Um, I can't do Thursday, by the way.

You alright?

Yeah.

Cleaves!

Joe!

Jesus. What happened to you?

Cupboard door, eye height.

Oh, right. One of Mick's doors?

When are you gonna learn?

Oh, next life maybe,
the one after that...

Give it away, mate.
Gambling's a disease.

I know. You got a driver?

Oh, mate, the days when I could
take a government car to the club

are long gone.

There is such a thing as
ministerial accountability, you know?

Pity.

How's the election looking?

Well, tighter than
a nun's proverbial,

but we will scrape through.

Yeah? The smart money says
you fellas are going down.

Is that right?

OK, smart money, five grand?

Done.

The gruesome discovery

has sent shock waves through
corridors of power the world over.

Allie Black reports.

It was to this disused
warehouse in Sydney's inner west...

Ooh, hello.

..police allege Professor Murray
lured his victim,

West Australian solicitor
Sebastian Carey,

after first making contact with him
in an internet chat room.

How could the Government
possibly have known

that Professor Murray
was a cannibal?

He's been a key economic advisor

for the past two
federal governments,

two Wall Street banks,
three major European...

Morning, children!
Ciao, Cleave!

But isn't it the case

that the Government based its latest
financial regulatory strategy

on a report written by a psychopath?

Might I remind the people
of this great and prosperous State

that our adoption
of the recommendations

in Professor Murray's report

were backed not only by Moody's
and Standard & Poor's,

but also by the Opposition.

Now, Professor Murray
was engaged as an economist.

What he does in his...

..his spare time is...

That's...that's another
matter entirely.

I won't be taking any more
questions on this. Thank you.

You're fucking kidding me!

What do you mean, there's no law
against cannibalism in this State?

Well, just that, really.
There's no law against cannibalism.

This psychopath has made
a laughing-stock out of us.

It's not as if there weren't
a few titters out there already.

Get some charges laid,
some serious charges.

Get him on trial, alright?

We cannot look soft on this prick.
It's an election year!

Colleen, how are we?

Oh. Hey!

Morning.

Nicole, Nicolissima.

What's the legal position?

We're homeless again.
What?

Mr Barracliffe's coming back
earlier than anticipated.

How much earlier?
Quite a bit earlier, I'm afraid.

Mrs Barracliffe's broken her leg.

Well, he's only
been gone two weeks.

He told me we could
have the place for four months.

What sort of sabbatical
do you call that?

It was day one
on the slopes, apparently -

something about her
being piste or off-piste.

Well, they've got surgeons
in France, don't they?

They've got hospitals,

a très bon health care system,
I'm led to understand.

Nevertheless...

You want me to start calling around,
find another room?

Yeah.

You have a mention at 10:00.
Yeah.

Yes. Mr Potter.

Your Honour, we'd ask that
the subpoena be answered

or the respondent held in contempt.

It simply beggars belief

that the only files
apparently lost by the respondent

are those being sought
by the Taxation Office.

Mr Greene.

I couldn't agree more
with my friend, Your Honour.

It is indeed
an extraordinary coincidence.

But the truth is I am simply
a victim of the weather.

Owing to a torrential storm

that was raging over the
eastern suburbs of Sydney that day,

the removalists I'd engaged

attempted to rush through what
should have been a painstaking task.

A number of my boxes
suffered water damage.

Relevant diaries and files relating
to my financial affairs were lost,

as well as cherished personal items.

Um, I'm assured that affidavits
from the removalists are forthcoming

and so I'd ask Your Honour
for an adjournment.

Mr Potter.

Our submission respectfully stands,
Your Honour.

The Tax Office has been
more than patient with Mr Greene.

We'll hold it over until the...26th.

May it please the court.

Thank you, Your Honour.

What's up, Harry?

Removalists and
rain-damaged boxes...

I mean, how long do you really
think you can keep this going?

Harry, there's nothing I'd like more
than to have my boxes back.

They would exonerate me
in an instant.

Bullshit.
Language, please.

My father here has
a very delicate sensibility.

And lay off the 'Harry' crap.
It's starting to get around.

Are you coming Thursday night?
Yeah, mate, we'll be there.

OK, see you then, Barn.

See you, Harry. Oh, sorry, Dave.

See you, Harry. Sorry, David.

And I'll see you
on the 26th, Cleaver.

Sure thing, Harry. Sorry, David.

Why are you getting chummy with
the oily tick trying to bankrupt me?

Because I'm with him, mate.
You should pay your taxes.

I don't see why I should
support your lifestyle

any more than I do already.

Shut up.

And in your internet posts,

you were clear
about your intentions?

This is the text
of the message, Don.

"Is there anyone out there
who would like to be eaten?"

On the second page,
you'll find the deceased's response.

"I want to be eaten."

Right. So you still deny
the murder charge, Professor Murray?

Of course.

I'm not a murderer.

Tell us about the night in question.

He arrived at 8:00.

I'd bought a bottle of Krug
so we drank a toast.

While I was busy making
preparations in the kitchen

he consumed a large number
of sleeping pills.

A little while after that,
he passed out.

And moments later, he was dead.

I proceeded to dismember him.

Over the course of the next three weeks,
I ate most of his remains.

Where was your wife at this time?

At home.

She knew nothing about it.

Have you seen her?
They won't let me talk to her.

I'm worried. I'm worried.
I think she might be a little upset.

There is that possibility.
Yes.

Can you get a message to her?

What would you like to say?

I want you to tell her
not to worry...

..that we can get through this.

Every marriage
has its ups and downs.

My name is Sebastian Vincent Carey.

My address is
27 Holroyd Place, Perth,

in the State of Western Australia.

I am a maritime lawyer employed
by the firm Russell & Garland.

I'm about to commit suicide.

I have here sleeping pills
purchased by myself

which I shall take
in order to induce my death.

I repeat - I am committing suicide.

I wish for my remains to be consumed
by Professor Murray.

You've always been right, Dad.

I am shit. I've always been shit.

And now I will be shit.

Cut fucking snakes,
the pair of them.

That may be the case,

but the evidence would suggest
our client isn't a murderer, Don.

No, he's just a cannibal.

Cannibalism isn't
a crime in this State.

Technically all he's done
is mistreat a corpse

and failed to notify police
of a death.

That's 2 years max.
He abetted a suicide. That's 10.

That's not the charge, Don.
They're going with murder.

Yeah, they don't want to look soft
with an election coming.

I reckon there's a window here.
A window?

You don't really think, Cleaver, they
could ever possibly let that lunatic out?

We'll plead insanity and
he'll be sectioned and off to Bedlam

before lunch on the first day,

game, set and match.

The fact that he's gonna spend
the rest of his days in an asylum

doesn't mean we should cop a murder
plea if he didn't kill anyone.

Cleaver, I know reality

is a daunting topic
of conversation for you,

but our client
ate another human being.

He might be as mad as a meataxe -
he probably used a meataxe -

but if he didn't kill the deceased
and there's a murder charge,

it's gotta be defended.

That's what we do, isn't it?
I'm running late. Gentlemen.

We've got the wife at 3:00.
Cleaver can handle that.

And get some character witnesses,
if you can find any.

Justice must be seen to be done,
I suppose.

Well, is that everything for now?

Yeah. Thanks, Don.
Thanks, Don.

Thank you, Linesman.
Thank you, Ball Boy.

I've always assumed
that I was the linesman.

Is it possible, Barnyard, that you're
the Linesman and I'm the Ball Boy?

12 years, we've been married.

You think you know someone.

I mean, you...you prepare yourself
for marriage, don't you?

Sickness and health and all that,

but then...

He told me it was chicken...

I beg your pardon?

The remains that they found
in our freezer at home -

he told me they were
chicken fillets.

You didn't actually...

With garlic, white wine, pepper
and a little balsamic.

Did, uh, you know anything about your
husband's tendencies, Mrs Murray?

Of course not. He's been
a vegetarian since he was 23.

What? From vego to cannibal
without so much as a chop in between?

Was your husband
ever prone to violence?

No, never.

Did he ever threaten you
with violence?

No. He was a very gentle man.

I'm not sure why you're
asking me these questions.

Surely there can't be
any legal issues here.

It's important to establish that your
husband wasn't given to violence.

"Wasn't given to violence"?

He hacked that poor man's
body apart.

Yes, but only after he was dead.

We've started
gathering a list of people

who might speak
on your husband's behalf.

I'm sorry?
Potential defence witnesses.

Defence witnesses?

We assume as he's your husband...
You can't.

You can't intrude
on these people's lives

and ask them to speak
on behalf of a cannibal.

They have families, reputations!

Graham's insane. He's obviously
never going to be released.

Yes, but he's not a murderer.

I forbid you to speak
to anyone on that list.

You forbid?

I'm sorry, you're not in a position
to forbid anything.

Will you please just...

..stop this thing?!

It just...

..doesn't serve any purpose.

OK, who's Tyler Banks?

A family friend.

Jeremy Brown?
Another friend.

Aden Sinclair?

A friend.

Oh, fuck.

Yes.

Jesus.

Hello.
Eager beaver Cleaver.

Hello.

Oh, the belle of Burton Street.
How's tricks?

Mmm.

End of the quarter, you know,
always a bloody nightmare -

GST, some shit about payroll tax.

I don't know why I ever went legit.

Yeah, I wouldn't have.

Missy won't be in tonight, love.

She alright?
She quit.

What do you mean, "She quit"?

Not coming back.

Well, she didn't say anything to me.

She wouldn't just quit
without saying something.

Well, she said she wanted
to make a clean break.

You know, she was
talking about going to uni.

The number you have called

is not connected.

Please check the number
before dialling again.

Five years.

What?

Well, it's...it's a lot
more common than you think.

What is?

Falling in love with a prostitute.

That's not what this is about.
Really?

What's it about?

It's about...

..trust and ethics.

Well, what did you expect?

I mean, she was role-playing.
That's what they do.

Wendy, she wasn't
role-playing, alright?

Her feelings were genuine.
Believe me.

Did you pay her
to visit you in rehab?

No, I did not. Well-remembered, Doc.

So, you know,
if it's all about business,

why was she visiting me in rehab?

Maybe you thought finally you had
a relationship you could control,

dictate all the terms,

but yet again you transgressed
the normal boundaries

and allowed feelings...

The normal boundaries
of prostitution?

There are boundaries
to every relationship, Cleave,

business, marriage, whatever.

Most people are aware of them.

Tell me, what do you
miss most about her?

Well, the sex, of course.

OK.

What can I say?
It was great sex. It was so good.

But that's not what
you miss the most, is it?

What are you talking about?
It was every man's dream.

It was uncomplicated, it was hot...

But what do you miss the most?

The backgammon.

Have you tried
to make contact with her?

Changed her number, moved house,

disappeared off the face of the earth.

It's like being
in a bloody Polanski movie.

There's this guy I know
who works for a credit agency.

I got him off a couple of
stalking charges a while back.

He's looking into her records for me,
but after that...

Mum?
In here, darling.

Hello, mate.
Hey, Dad.

Scoring another freebie?

Yes.

"She walks in beauty
like the night

"Of cloudless climes and starry skies

"And all that's best
of dark and bright

"Meets in her aspect and her eyes

"Thus mellowed to that tender light

"Which heaven to gaudy day denies."

Bugger me, he was good.

Yeah, but what use is it?

What do you mean, "What use is it"?
It's poetry, you knucklehead.

It has only one use
and that's for pulling chicks.

Trust me, mate -
you inhale a bit of Byron now,

in a few years time, the dividends
will speak for themselves, boy.

Hey, Dad, can I ask you a favour?
Fire away.

If Mum asks, can you tell her

I stayed at your place
on Friday night?

Oh, yes, and why
would we be lying to Mum?

'Cause she'll be pissed off
if I tell her the truth.

Which is...?
You don't want to know, Dad.

Actually, I do want to know, Fuzz.

No, you don't.
It's no big deal, I swear.

It's something you told me you did,

like, a thousand times
when you were a kid, so...

Then I really want to know.

Look, Dad.

What you need
is plausible deniability.

If Mum ever found out
what I was really doing,

she'd ask you if you knew.

This way, you can
honestly say you don't,

otherwise you're just gonna get
caught up in another web of lies,

Mum will drag us
back to family counselling

and we both know what
Dr Stirrup will have to say.

What is this?

Dad, I'm trying
to help you out here.

If Mum finds out the truth,

we both know you'll be held
responsible one way or another

because you're
a "terrible role model".

He said that once
and that was in an early session.

Yeah, but if you back me up,
it will be a non-event.

Forget about it, pal.
This is extortion.

I'm not gonna be compromised in
this way by my own flesh and blood.

Remember what happened
when she busted me smoking?

Last Friday?
Oh, yeah, had a great night.

What did you do?

Oh, just stayed in, had some Thai,

he brought around a couple
of hilarious unwatchable DVDs.

Why do you ask?
Mm, no reason.

Oh, listen. I got another love letter
from the school yesterday.

Ah, OK.

You're 11 grand down
on last year, Cleave.

I can't keep doing it by myself.
No, no, no. Alright.

Look, I'm good for it.
My cannibal should cover that.

What?

How could you possibly
turn that into a money-spinner?

He ate someone.
You'd be surprised.

It's a hopeless case.

They're the only ones
worth fighting for, darling.

Oh, um, wish Barn
a happy birthday for me.

Shit. Barney's birthday. Yes, yes.

Good. Good point, good point.

I want an elephant one.

OK!

But you do realise that last week
you wanted giraffes

so I went out and I spent, oh,
a gazillion-billion dollars

on giraffe bandaids.

Oh, what do you know -
the last elephant in the pack.

Come on, let's see the damage.

She didn't really say that?

I'm afraid she did.

And it's official -
we do taste just like chicken.

And what have we got here, Scarlet?
Oh, Cleaver, please!

Look, I am enjoying it.
Hello!

Oh, Joe!

Sorry. Traffic
and everything else.

Cleave, how are you, mate?
Very good. You?

Hello, Sal.
Happy birthday, mate.

Don't apologise to me.

So what body part was it she ate?

Well...
Oh, please.

I've been up to my neck
in this psycho all day.

But what would be the point, Cleave?
The point of what, Sal?

You said you were pushing
to pursue this to trial.

So what would the point be?

Yeah, the time and money
wasted on an exercise

which is gonna make absolutely
no difference to your client's future.

Well, to be perfectly
Francis with you,

I don't give a shit
about my client's future.

What I do give a shit about -
believe it or not - is the law.

Since when?!

I don't know about you lot,

but I don't want to live in a society
where for purely political reasons,

someone can be charged
with a crime they didn't commit.

You know, that's a pretty
serious accusation, mate.

Oh, puh-lease!

And it's all kosher because he's got
a couple of mental health issues.

"Couple of mental health issues"?

He ate someone. He's a monster.
He's misunderstood.

So you're gonna convince a jury
that this cannibal isn't a monster?

Well, it's easier
than convincing them

that an economist is a human being.

So the taxpayers of this State...

This "great and
prosperous State", Joe.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

..have to fork out

because one of your
highly selective principles

has reared its ugly head, hey?

You don't give a rat's arse
about the law, Cleave.

You get low-life crooks
off all the time.

51% of the time.

And once again, you misread me.

The very reason I get
my low-life crooks off

is because I care about the law.

It's justice I don't
give a toss about.

You're looking
more battered than usual.

No, I'm alright.

Barney told me that your little friend at
the club has flown the coop.

My "little friend"?

Your prostitute.

Oh, my prostitute.
My harlot, Scarlet.

Well, don't worry.

I'm sure there's plenty more fish
in that particular sea.

It's a shame you never met, you know?
You'd like her, Red.

You've actually got a lot in common.

Oh, yeah? Do tell.

Oh, well, you both
resolutely pretended

you're not madly in love with me.

It's sad, really.

Who's madly in love?

Oh, just explaining
to your wife here

that she's secretly in love with
me and she's not alone.

Oh, well, do whatever
you have to, you two.

I'm buggered.
Gotta be up at sparrow's.

I'm gonna call a cab.
Stay. Don't go on my account.

'Night, cock.
Goodnight, cock.

Happy birthday.
Thanks, mate.

Be gentle with him, won't ya?
Yeah.

And I haven't forgotten
about that birthday present.

Yes, lots of big ideas.
Yeah.

Yeah.

Now, where were we?

Ah, yes - you banging on about
this threesome with me and my harlot.

Look, Red, it's gonna be tricky.

Yeah.

Hey.

Red.

Red. Hey.

Red, hey.

He is such a good man.

He is such a fucking good man,

but I can't do this anymore.

You can't do what?

This marriage.

Fuck.

You're kidding me.

What do you mean?
Have you spoken to him about it?

No, of course not. Of course
I fucking haven't, Cleaver.

I'm a woman. I internalise
everything until I explode.

Well, listen, listen. Come on.

Whatever it is,
you're gonna work it out, alright?

You gotta speak to him about it.

You gotta give him a chance

to atone for whatever it is
he needs to atone for.

He doesn't have anything
he needs to atone for, alright?

That's the trouble.

Oh, fuck.

Missy!

Missy! Missy!

So?

So...what the fuck?

You just vanish without
so much as an adios.

I'm going to law school.

Law school?

I guess I should be flattered.

It's nothing to do with you.
My father was a lawyer.

I thought your father was a diplomat.

He was a lawyer first.

Given what we had...

We had a business relationship.

That's not how I would
choose to categorise it.

The use of a credit card

is usually evidence of
a commercial transaction, is it not?

What about the times
you came to my place?

You still paid.

Alright, what about when
you visited me in rehab?

Jesus, Cleave, what's your point?

My point is it wasn't just
a business relationship

and you know that's my point

so stop being whatever it is
that you're being.

I'm being me.
You're not.

I know you.
No, you don't.

I was who you wanted me to be.

Some guys want me to be the nurse,

some guys want me to be a
schoolgirl, a dominatrix, whatever.

You wanted me to be your friend.

And so I was. That was the gig.
That is horse shit.

You can choose to believe
whatever you like.

I'm not choosing to believe anything.
It's an objective fact.

What is?
You and me. Us. This.

Our connection is real and palpable

and you can't just write it off
as a part of some exit strategy.

I'm happy when I'm with you.

I guess that's why
I got the big bucks.

If we happen to bump into
each other in the future

I trust I can rely
on your discretion?

My discretion?

Of course.
Thank you.

Adios.

Hey.

What about our things?

What about Ravel?
Go away. Please.

Henry Miller? The Marquis de Sade?

Jackie Gleason?
Non-conceptual art, huh?

I gave all these things to you.

So what do I owe you?
You owe me an explanation.

I owe you nothing.
You got what you paid for.

I've drawn a line in the sand.

You are part of my past now.

Ladies and gentlemen,
my name is Cleaver Greene, counsel,

and I've been asked to step in today

for your usual lecturer
who's temporarily indisposed.

Now, who can tell me
where you're all up to?

That girl there.

Yeah, blondie? You? No?

Yeah?

We've been discussing
the Trade Practices Act.

Ah, misleading and deceptive conduct.
I know it only too well.

Section 51.1 was designed
to protect the unsuspecting

from the unscrupulous.

If, in the course of
a professional transaction,

the party whose services
you've engaged

makes certain warranties,

are you not, as the purchaser,

entitled to rely
upon those warranties?

OK, let's look at this
from a whole other angle.

How many here today
are fans of Ravel, huh?

Oh, don't you just love him?

What about 'Piano Concerto in D'? No?

What about
the 'Easy Listening Classics'?

Everybody loves a boléro. Come on.

Rrrum! Pa-da-da dum!
Rrrum! Pa-da-da dum...

Greene.

Professor Morrison!
Glad you've made a speedy recovery.

Ladies and gentlemen,
you've been a terrific crowd.

Thank you, Corporate Law 1.

Professor Sinclair, this is Nicole.

How do you do?
My back is killing me. Thank you.

We're between digs.

So you were close
to Professor Murray?

Very. Both Friedmanites
down to our bootstraps.

Both pro-market,
both anti-big government.

We co-authored countless papers,

we sat on a number of
advisory committees together.

In the late '90s, we were
both seconded to Treasury.

Costello dubbed us
the 'Twin Apostles'.

Did Professor Murray
give you any clue

that he may have been a cannibal?

Of course not.

So until the moment you heard
he'd eaten Sebastian Carey,

you thought he was perfectly normal?

No.

But nothing's been normal
since the crisis began.

You don't mean
the global financial crisis?

I am married

and my wife is an invalid
and very dependent on me.

But minutes before the Lehman
Brothers collapse was announced,

Professor Murray's wife and I

finally consummated
what had been a long-standing

but up until then
purely emotional affair.

That very same day, Mr Greene,
almost down to the second...

..I slept with my best friend's wife

and betrayed my own

and almost instantly the world
as I knew it ceased to exist.

Yes!

Game, set and match.

Thank you, Linesman.
Thank you, Ball Boy.

Ohh!

It was...the late
Mr Osbourne's opinion

that you should
plead guilty of murder,

but by reason of insanity.

But I killed no-one.

That's right.

So why am I still in here?

You've been charged with murder
so there has to be a trial.

Where they will find me innocent.

Perhaps.

Then I can go home to Annie.

Graham...you ate someone.
You're never going home.

He was already dead!

I mean, what could be more natural
than wanting to consume human flesh?

It combines our two most primal
instincts into one single act.

Remember your first kiss, Mr Greene?

Your tongue snaking down
into someone else's soul?

We caress necks, we kiss them,
we give each other love bites.

You know, these bloody
gorgeous purple bruises

that we wear as badges of honour.

But you break the skin,
you go that one tiny step further,

and we're considered vampires,

monsters that should be
consigned into eternal darkness.

It's the worst sort of hypocrisy.

Did you call Roy?
Yeah, he'll be here.

I was thinking maybe you shouldn't
refer to Graham as Professor Murray.

It makes him sound a bit smart.
Good point.

We shall prove
beyond reasonable doubt

that the defendant preyed on the
frailties of a mentally ill person

in an effort to induce his death

and then eat him.

The defendant -
Professor Graham Murray, AM -

is a brilliant economist.

These are not my words.

These are words
that have been applied

to Professor Murray many times,

as recently as 12 months ago
by Ben Bernanke,

chairman of the US Federal Reserve.

He was for a time head of
economic policy for the OECD.

The multibillionaire Warren Buffett

once spoke at a dinner

in honour of Professor Murray.

He said, "There is nothing
Graham Murray can't do

"if he puts his mind to it.

"The man is a genius."

Roy. Roy!

Anything useful yet?
They look like they hate him.

They're not saying
that they hate him.

They're saying they're
scared shitless of him.

Mr Greene?

Thank you, Your Honour.

Ladies and gentlemen, the only charge
being defended in this trial

is that of murder.

There is in fact no law
against cannibalism in this State.

But I'm betting - and, tragically,
I'm nothing if not a betting man -

that if you had to decide right now,

you would find the accused
guilty of murder

because the very idea of being
in the same room as a cannibal

scares the hell out of you.

We don't deny the accused
is a cannibal.

We don't defend that fact.

But that is not the charge.

The charge is murder

and we will prove,

using the deceased's
very own last words,

that Graham Murray is innocent.

The charge is murder

and you must remember it is
a universally accepted legal doctrine

that you cannot murder a dead man.

Dr Hartcher, have you
read the police report

into the death of Sebastian Carey?

I have.

Were you able to draw
any inferences from this report

in terms of the victim's
state of mind?

Objection.
Pardon me, Your Honour.

The deceased's state of mind?

I have.

Whilst most of us
make the transition

from adolescent to adult
with varying degrees of success,

there are some amongst us

whose egos are so badly
traumatised by the process

that they lose any sense of self.

In a very small number of cases,

this abnegation of the self
becomes so extreme

that it develops into a fetish of sorts
of self-degradation.

This could manifest as a desire

to turn oneself into
another's excrement.

Dr Hartcher, do you believe
that such a mind

may be vulnerable
to powers of suggestion,

psychological manipulation?

Yes.

Dr Hartcher, have you ever
eaten another animal's flesh?

Yes.

Having cooked that flesh yourself?

Yes.

Seasoned it?
Your Honour.

I'm happy to move on, Your Honour.

I have here a raft
of sworn statements

by colleagues of the deceased -

senior West Australian lawyers,

which mustn't be held
against them, Your Honour.

Have you had an opportunity to
read these statements, Dr Hartcher?

I have.

He worked on average
15.4 hours a day,

usually six days a week.

None of these statements
even hints at self-abnegation.

The common threads are
"Quiet, kept to himself,

"professional, dependable, dull..."

This is not inconsistent
with our research, Mr Greene.

Oh?

As I have repeatedly stated,

people such as the deceased can
be fully functional, professionally.

Now, Dr Hartcher, I need you
to be absolutely clear about this.

Are you saying that
it is entirely possible

that the deceased presented himself
to his West Australian colleagues

as rational and functioning?

Yes.

They would have had
no idea or suspicion

as to his mental capacity?

If they did, I presume
he couldn't function as a lawyer.

Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that.

It follows therefore

that the deceased could have
presented himself to my client

as rational and functioning

on the night they met in a warehouse.

Uh, but for the fact the deceased
was going there to be eaten.

I should have thought that
would present a bit of a clue.

She ran right over you!
I made my points.

She RAN right OVER you!

Dr Hartcher was much more
impressive than anticipated.

Where's Annie? Why isn't she here?

Huh? Where's Aden?
Dunno, Graham.

I need her here.

Where is she?!

Oh, Jesus, you blokes,
give her a break!

Come on, Teddy.
You're better than this.

A man's gotta eat, Cleave.

Always after your
pound of flesh, aren't you?

Nothing but a bunch
of bottom feeders.

You ought to know.
Bite me!

Those hacks,
they follow me everywhere.

That'll be them now.

It's never going to end.

What I want to know
is who told them that I ate too?

It wasn't us.

That would've been
a cop on a retainer.

Mrs Murray, have you seen
Professor Sinclair recently?

Yes, I have.

Did he happen to mention to you

that he...he told us
about you and he...

Yes.

Yes, he did.

I don't know what
possessed him to tell you.

It's no-one else's business.

I think he feels a little guilty.

We did it once,

ONE time,

and it just happened to be
the morning that Lehman's collapsed

so Aden's got it
in his head somewhere...

He thinks that
the whole financial crisis

is some sort of moral retribution.

Sometimes I wonder who's madder -
him or Graham.

It's only a matter of time
before he feels the need to...

..confess to someone else.

His wife maybe.

The faculty.

Oh, God. What if he tells the press?
It'll never end.

He's not gonna do that, Mrs Murray.

Mrs Murray, your husband
needs you in court.

I told you. I'm...
I'm not going to testify.

We're not asking you to testify.

Did you talk to Barn?
Yes.

When you take that sip of water...

Anything else?

You've got most of the jury onside.

They think that Sebastian
topped himself.

But one or two of the old ducks,

they still think that
he's too clever by half.

Right. Great. Thanks, mate.

Had you met Mr Carey
before that night at the warehouse?

No, regrettably.

Did you have a conversation with him?

Yes, we had a nice chat.

He was a lovely fellow. Very sad,
but he was a lovely fellow.

Did you discuss the GFC?

I beg your pardon?
The global financial crisis.

Did you talk about that?

Um...no, no.

Is it a topic of conversation
you'd prefer to avoid?

Oh, no, not especially.

You failed to predict it,
didn't you, Mr Murray?

Yes. Everyone did.

Oh, well, not everyone.

There were a handful in
the United States who predicted it.

There were a couple in Europe.

Keynesians. Their modelling
was deeply flawed.

So they just got lucky, did they?

The truth is, Mr Murray,

you're just not that clever, are you?

I beg your pardon?

How could you possibly be a genius

when you failed to predict the single
biggest economic event of our times?

You missed it by a mile, didn't you,

you and your free market pals?

You thought you'd
factored in everything -

it was a perfect market -

except there was one thing that
you failed to take into account.

The bottomless pit of human greed.

And that's something
that's impossible to quantify,

isn't it, Mr Murray?

Well, it...it's...

..it finds a level.

But it didn't, did it?

Mr Greene, this is
a most unusual re-examination.

Your Honour, my friend
spent a lot of time

asking Mr Murray about his expertise.

Very well.

Mr Murray, did your wife Annie

know anything about your assignation
with Sebastian Carey?

No, nothing. I told you.

I swear. She...
she means the world to me.

I'd never do anything to hurt her.

I'm so sorry, my love.
I'm...I'm so sorry.

I didn't mean to hurt anyone.

I'm not a killer!

I'm an economist!Annie!

This is the prosecution's
criminal mastermind.

This is their cold-blooded genius.

Mr Greene.

You've come to a verdict
in the charge of murder?

We have, Your Honour.

And what verdict have you come to?

We find the defendant not guilty.

Thank you. You are dismissed.

Now, pending further
psychiatric evaluation...

YES! I knew it!

..Mr Murray will continue
to be held in medical remand.

I knew it, I knew it!
Darling, I'm innocent.

Yes!

Hey.
Hey.

Are you good?

Yes, I am great. You?

I hear...

..you won your cannibal case.

In a manner of speaking, yeah.

Oh! Do you ever shop?

What?

What do you mean, "What"?

I mean what? Why the monk face?

Well, I thought, um...

..lines had been drawn and, uh,
the sands of time parted.

You were right.

I do owe you an explanation.

I had a charmed life
as a little girl, Cleave.

My dad took me to all
of these fabulous places

where we met fabulous people.

Yes, it was a fairytale. I know.

Just before I turned 18,

my parents were killed
in a car crash

and I fell apart.

Everything turned to shit,
deep, serious shit.

You can guess the rest.

Now I have a chance to start again.

I want to start again.

Do you understand?

So...

..I was wondering if you
could explain this to me.

It's all Greek to me.

Latin, actually.

My name's Melissa Partridge,
by the way.

Cleaver Greene.

How do you do?