All language subtitles for Rake.S03E07.1080p.BluRay.FLAC2.0.x264-SbR_track4_[eng]

Hello? Can I help you?

- So what's the damage?

Took about 15 laptops
and smashed the mainframe.

God only knows what they've taken.

Nothing happens on this floor
of any consequence.

Still, something might have
leaked out, or...

- Like what?
- This is about our partnership.

Guess who owns 80% of this restaurant?

You can't guarantee
that I am not going to jail, right?

- It's 120 million bucks, mate.
- Tikki's casino.

She wants it, Bligh Phillips wants it,
and I want it.

Patience is the wife of
the Congolese Foreign Minister.

We're in love.

She planted the diamonds in your case

so that you'd take the fall
if you got caught, alright?

I have a life with this man.

- Roger's a drug dealer.
- Right!

- Oh, fuck.
- Go!

Mate.

Who would watch the Olympics
if no-one ever broke a world record?

Come on! You're all so damned smart
and hoity-toity!

- You fuckin' tell me!

They're valid arguments, Roger.

If you come out and release
the hostages, we can discuss that.

Sport... needs... drugs!

People like me,

people who create a race
of super athletes, achieving goals

beyond anything
you can fuckin' imagine.

I don't know, I can imagine pretty big,
Rog.

Shut up, please.

So without performance-enhancing drugs,

there are only amateurs.

The flipside of course,
and personally more interesting,

would be to let people do no exercise
at all, eat mountains of shit

and watch what happens
when they try to play sport.

- Stadiums clogged with obese people...

- You will die here today.
- No, he won't.

Stop it please, Roger. I'm begging you.

No need to get hoity-toity, Rog.

I've watched you try and destroy
my relationship from day one, Greene.

You're making a good fist of it
yourself now.

Shut it! Respect!
Respect for your elders!

- How?
- Just shut up, Fuzz!

I'll put my case to the police.
I'll make them see reason.

Roger, we have
the church surrounded.

This can go nowhere.
Please come out, let's talk.

Your father arrived drunk
on our wedding day

and took a swing at my poor dad.

Called me a whore in front of the whole
Randwick Presbyterian congregation.

But we worked it through.
That's what people did in our day.

No, no, no, you are honestly not citing
your marriage as an argument.

Your marriage is the reason
I became a psychologist!

Fuckin' hell. Me, a psychologist.

Three marriages and a son
who's a diamond mule.

- Hey, I told you I didn't do it...
- You!

Three months ago, you left with
a happy-clapping Christian virgin girl

who I thought was ever so slightly
boring but completely harmless

and you return with a suitcase full
of blood diamonds

and a 45-year-old Congolese woman!

Oh, she has an identity beyond
a 45-year-old Congolese woman.

Her name is Patience
and she's from Bondo, and she's amazing.

Come on, Roger,
we can work this out.

You.

Oh, mate. Oh, come on.

For the love of dog, just leave the poor
old girl alone, will ya?

Come on, mate.

Dad!

Are you alright?

Oh, shit bags.

Roger, do you mind if I approach?

All I want to do is talk to you.
Are you alright there, madam?

- Fit as a fiddle, thanks.
- That's far enough!

Let me ask you a question, sonny.

Would you really have preferred
if Lance Armstrong

had not won the Tour de France
seven times?

Frankly, I'm a bit bored
with all this Lance Armstrong bullshit.

Let's get out of here
before he moves onto ping pong.

Come on.

- Sit down.
- Trust me, this is my fourth siege.

Hey, Rog? We're going now, mate,
if that's OK.

Dad, sit down, for fuck's sake.

No, no, we're going.
Both of you, up, now.

You sit down. Or I swear...

You swear what, mate? No, no.

I've known lots of killers in my time,
and I hate to disappoint you,

but you're not one of them.

- I bloody am.
- No, no, you're not.

You're just an ordinary boring knob
trapped in a slipstream of shit.

Now listen, I will get you off
with minimum time, OK?

In a year or so, you'll be hosting
your own chat show.

- I'll shoot!
- No, you won't, trust me.

You're only a little bit nuts.

OK? Now we're going to let go
of Prue here,

and we're going to keep
moving out there.

Don't worry, I'll probably kill her
myself one day.

Quietly move
towards the cars. Secure them.

Stop right there!

Throw the weapon forward.
It's over, mate.

We can sort this out.

- Oh, shit.
- I'm so sorry, baby.

Throw it away, Roger.
Please, put it down.

Go, go, go!

Get on the ground!
Get on the ground!

- This is like a wedding in the Congo.
- You should be with your husband.

He needs you more than ever now.

Mum, I've never had the heart to say
this before

but you are completely insane.

- Is he alright?

Christ, I think he's been shot!

God! Someone call an ambulance!

That's not what I said.
The truth is, Cal...

Oh, you wouldn't know the truth, pal,
if it kissed you on your arse.

I mean, here you are,
a government minister

paid a fortune to watch over
this basket case

of a public transport system,
and you are doing nothing.

So you know what I'm going to do?

I'm calling a protest meeting
in Martin Place, 10am this Friday.

Everyone, anyone
who cares about the mockery

you've made of transport
is welcome to join us.

- Let's show the government...
- You can't do that.

Let me tell you, friends,
for those who do come,

I'll personally sign copies
of my new book while I'm there -

Cal - Come Out Punching.

He's gone rogue.

The man is completely
off the reservation.

I build someone up from nothing,
give them a high-profile slot,

normally I get a few years out of them

before their egos get
completely out of control.

The mean average
is five-and-a-half years.

Alan was much less,
Ray was a little more...

This fool's not gonna make it
to six months. This is serious.

- Lunch, then?
- Better make it dinner.

Mate, when I travelled,
I was asked to carry all kinds of shit

up my clacker, but I always said no.

Except once. I always knew
never to cross that moral line.

Is this the same moral line
that told you to hire a hit man?

OK, sometimes
it's a bit of a blurry line

but I managed to stay
in a brothel in Cairo

one time for two months
without ever having any...

This'll only take a tick
and then you're free to go.

- Not much more than a flesh wound.
- Oh, fuck me sideways!

Holy Mary Mother of God!

Mate, it's about restraint, OK?

- I'm so sorry.
- It's OK, Doc.

Look, right up until the time that Rog
decided to drill me a second sphincter,

I was actually having a ball.

- I can't go back to his house.
- Well, don't.

Stay at mine. Long as you like.

Well, um... um, my mother
will be with us.

Oh, the day that keeps on delivering.

And this is how
I will always remember you.

Miss.
What are you do... How did you...

Well, you're all over the news.
Are you guys OK?

- Oh...
- I'm sorry, I'm intruding.

- I'll leave.
- No, no, no, Melissa, please stay.

- Oh, why not?
- How are you coping, Wendy?

- Oh, God! Sorry, sorry.
- Felicity?!

Sorry, I didn't realise you were giving
a Royal Command performance.

- You came.
- You OK?

Yes. Yeah, well, define OK.

- Breathing?
- Oh, yeah, I'm breathing.

Yes.

You came.

Yeah, I think we've covered that.
Yes, I came.

But I'll... I'll go now.

- Sorry, I didn't mean to...
- Ohh...

- I'll go. You're... you're breathing.
- No, stay!

- We need something else to look at.
- Yeah, I'm Wendy.

- I'm his ex.
- Felicity. Right. Wendy, of course.

- I'm Melissa. I'm his...
- Hi.

Well, whatever I am, it's definitely ex.

I'm Fuzz, his diamond mule son.

- Your whole life in one room.

Oh, just the ones
who can still tolerate him.

Pull up a chair!

Oh, great, we can all make
a social event out of this.

Would you lower your bum?
I can't see Felicity.

I've got Tikki Wendon's PA
on the line.

She wants you to join her for dinner
at Renan's tonight.

Does she bloody just?
What, with an hour's notice?

Tell her no can do.

You are free.

Yeah, but don't bloody tell her that.

Tell her my first vacancy is Thursday,
lunch,

and I only have
a 90-minute window then.

You tell Fuck-arse
he makes it to Renan's tonight or...

No, tell him the Thursday's fine,
but I can only do 25 minutes.

Come on,
we have to work together.

- Please speak to me.
- Sure.

You are a fuckin' arsehole.

- Is that enough talk?
- Mm.

You're on with Sarah again,
aren't you?

No!

- What have you two been up to, hmm?
- Ask him.

You don't think we did that?

- Oh, I know you did that.
- Oh, mate, come on.

- We're professionals.
- That's the reason I know you did it.

You're professional political
operatives.

Therefore, by definition,
deceitful opportunists.

OK, look, we'd squeezed dry
the baby-saving bit, mate.

It wasn't a 'bit'. I saved a baby!

We didn't want to lose momentum.

Third poll of the quarter this weekend,
we needed a bounce.

OK, look.

I like this woman, alright?
She is a friend of mine.

Do you really think this is going
to help either her or me?

A lot more than waltzing
about with the wife

of a cancer-stricken friend.

You leave Scarlet out of this.

David, we don't want to tell you
how to run your life.

We are just saying it is much easier
to sell core Labor values

with the reformed hooker
than the slut divorcee.

Get out!

Third poll of the quarter.

I actually don't even know
what that means.

All I know is that next Tuesday's poll
will be followed

by another poll the following Tuesday,
and so on forever.

And do you know
what next Tuesday's poll really is?

It is just one more step

in our seemingly endless quest
to destroy all meaning.

And that is a job you do brilliantly.

I've always wanted to honeymoon
in Tahiti. What do you reckon?

I swear to God,
I had nothing to do with that.

I have two soon-to-be
unemployed advisors

who unforgivably over-reached.

Please don't make this
a hanging offence.

How could it be a hanging offence?
We're just friends, right?

Yes. Yes, we are.

So, you want to spin it out
a little longer?

OK, now I'm thinking
that this is a dream.

When I wake up, you're gonna be even
more pissed with me than I thought.

It could be fun. Go to a few events, a
couple of dinners, hold hands sometimes.

What's the harm?

Why would you do that for me?

Because I find the idea of
jerking around the press irresistible.

And I didn't leave you
because I didn't like you,

I left because I didn't like myself.

I've always wanted to make up
for the bullshit way I treated you.

Well, like you said, what's the harm?

You have given me 13
of the happiest years of my life.

OK, the last four have been wobbly,

but I will always love you, Barney,
for those 13.

And for our kids, and for so much more.

I just wanted to start there.

Christ, that was stylish.

- Yeah, it was, wasn't it?

I've been rehearsing
in front of the mirror.

God, I wish I'd rehearsed something
now.

All I've got is 'I'm really sorry.

I don't know what came over me.
I wasn't myself.'

No, no, no, no.

We've been over this a thousand times.

If we're going to end it here tonight,

then please,
let's do it as best friends, hmm?

Is that what we're doing here?

Ending it?

I guess we are.

I'm thinking the fish.

Yep. I always have the fish.
The duck's good.

Mm.

So, are you gonna move in with
that duplicitous two-faced bitch?

OK, sorry. That bit wasn't rehearsed.

OK.

- Thanks, Miss.

No worries.

- Ow, oh, oh.
- So, hot cheeks?

- Yeah.
- Tell me about Felicity.

Well, there's not much to tell,
unfortunately.

She's resisted every move I've made.

She did come to the hospital the moment
that she heard you'd been shot.

You should have seen the look
on her face.

- She was worried.
- Yeah, your point is?

Well, you do have a knack for being
blind to opportunities,

especially when it comes to romance.

Oh, you can talk.

I have opened the window of
opportunity to you at least twice.

And I opened it for you
probably four times.

Oh, really?

Trouble was that our windows were just
never open simultaneously, were they?

Maybe your timing's just a bit off.

Maybe it is.

If you do like her, don't rush it.
Just give her some time.

Thank you.

'Night.

- Mum's sleeping.
- I'm so glad for her.

I feel as if someone has welded
a pedestrian bridge

between my anus and my scrotum.

The Indians say that
this is the last Age of Kali.

The last cycle of man before
everything gets destroyed.

I think Kali's starting with me.

Dad used to have a blue heeler cross
called Kali.

Used to gnaw at its own genitals.

I don't feel safe anymore, Cleave.

I feel like everything I touch
is just going to crumble.

The most ordinary people I know
are losing the plot.

See, I got in ahead of the crowd
and avoided the rush.

But maybe you were the canary
down the mine shaft,

showing us all what was ahead

and now we're all just
catching up to you.

You see?

Does he have any idea
of the shit that he's in?

He seems to think innocence
is an actual defence in court.

How long could he get?

Do you remember Seminyak,
years ago?

That hut?

No phones.

Fishing boats.
The mosquito net above the bed.

Things made sense then.

You realise, of course,
this is all your fault.

You're a failure as a father,

a hopeless husband.

- Oh, what's that stench?
- Bouillie.

An omelette with sardines.
African dish.

Oh, God.
Oh, I thought it was your grandmother.

Listen, mate, I've got a Commission
hearing this morning,

but I still want you to come
into my chambers today, alright?

- What's gonna happen to Patience?
- Well, we'll talk about that.

- That's all that matters to me.
- I know.

Roger, even for his faults,
is a hundred times the man you are.

I notice your mother has upped
her dose of insane pills.

You're speaking...

You're speaking Indonesian.

This is your fault!

I'm sorry, I don't know,
Cleave.

I had a client a few years ago
who could only speak French

when he was smoking ice.

But, you know, his Mum was French,
so it wasn't such a big deal.

So you're saying it's a big deal?

Um, I don't want to scare you,
but it's a bit of a deal.

- Right.
- But people work through these things.

Right.

So you two are still close?

- Oh, yeah.
- That's nice.

Close, close?

Yeah, well, I... I love her,
and we've got Fuzz together

and history and, you know,

I hate the idea of her being trapped

in this fuckin' weird Balinese
parallel universe

and there's nothing I can do about it,
because I can't help it.

You know what I mean? I can't...

Yeah, I know what you mean.

I mean, I don't want her back
or anything.

You just care.

Yeah. So that's OK, isn't it?

Caring's more than OK, Cleave.
Always will be.

- I'll make a few calls.
- Thank you.

When I was 11, I wrote in my diary

that I was going to be a brilliant
surgeon working on people's noses.

I don't know why noses.

I think my friend Lynne Martin
had a really big one

and I thought, 'I could help her.'

It's time to readjust that paradigm.

- Not working out to plan?
- Oh, what do you think?

Scarlet and I told the kids.

Oh, wow.

You OK? Are they OK?

Had to happen, didn't it?

I don't know. Did it?

So, here I am. A free man.

You? Free?

Well, not for long.

Sorry, I... I know I've made
a mess of things for you,

but I want to make it right.

Oh, right.
Oh, my heart is all a-flutter.

Can you just stop always
trying to make things right?

This ain't a right time
for anything being right.

You're going to be a walking zombie
for the next year,

and I'm operating
on four hours of busted sleep,

I'm breastfeeding twice a night
and I am back-filing for a man

who has lost 86 separate keys
to the filing cabinet.

So I'm hearing a no.

No. You're hearing we have no idea.

Why don't we move in together
and see what happens?

Take a moment to sort out our filing.

I'll take this. It'll keep Mum
off my back for a day or two.

I won't keep you. You're busy.

Yeah. Sort of frantic.

You and Melissa.

I saw the photo in the paper.
Is it true?

No, we're not anything.

You kept telling me
it was impossible with us,

and to stop calling you.

Yeah, well, that's while Barney
was sick.

But he's not now.

He and I are getting a divorce, so...

Wow. That is big news.

Mm. Yeah, it's OK. It's...

It's sweet, amicable,
and a long time coming.

And that's all I wanted to say.

No pressure.

Great. I'm glad you told me.

OK.

So just give me a call when
you've finished processing it.

No...

No pressure. I heard.

David?

- Was she...?
- Out!

Yep.

And play a straight bat, OK?

Remember, they can ask us anything.
They can pull anything out of the hat.

But it's OK.

Our internal audit
had already picked up

the $120-million discrepancy

and we were about
to approach the authorities.

It was most regrettable but
we've now instituted stringent measures

to prevent this ever happening again.

Not very often you hear the word
'discrepancy' used

to describe $120 million
down the gurgler.

Bligh Phillips trades
in volumes of billions.

Our assets alone under management
is around 156 billion,

with a group regulatory capital
of 7.29 billion. We...

Right, so we shouldn't be too worried
about this 120 million dollars, then?

Do you know what my chief concern is
as CEO of Bligh Phillips?

Burgeoning cat populations in the
wetlands of Papua New Guinea?

I don't know, Mr Strong.

Our reputation.

What do you think happened
to the money, Mr Strong?

We don't know.

There were so many accounts.
It was a web...

A web, right. 'Cause I'm just trying
to wrap my head around this,

because I've seen his car, right?

It's a Porsche,
and that's a beautiful car.

That would have cost him a pretty penny.

He's got a nice little flat
in Woollahra.

He's wearing some lovely shoes today.

Ah, Italian, probably.
I'd say at least 500 dollars.

But I'm still coming in at around
118 million dollars shy

of what you say my client stole
from you.

What do you think my client
did with this discrepancy, Mr Strong?

I don't know.
We are trying to work through it.

Right.

So you're not very bright,
are you, mate?

You know, I thought you were,

but you're not very bright,

because you shake down all of this cash

and then you just stay put
and you don't do anything with it.

Why do you think, Mr Strong, having
stolen all of this money from you,

my client would continue
to show up to work every day

and risk getting caught
by your stringent regulatory controls?

First of many rounds, my friend.

We need to talk strategy, OK?

You're not gonna leave me stranded here
again, are you?

We're OK. I'll be here.

But right now, I have a date
with a diamond mule.

Ow!

Well, is she there or not?

She arrived
about five minutes ago.

Drive around the block once more,
please, Pete.

I am so, so sorry, Tik.

Mwah!

I got caught up
and just could not get away.

I took you from prison
when no-one else would touch you.

Well, you know
what they say about gratitude -

it's the shortest-lived emotion.

They also say it's a lively expectation
of favours to come.

I rebuilt you up from the loathsome
piece of shit you really are,

pay you a fortune,
and you treat me like this.

I'm sorry, Tik,
are we eating here now?

Because I am starving,
and time is tight.

I could drive my fist down your throat

and eat your offal as pâté.

Pâté. There's a thought. Nick,
could I get some dips please, mate?

The sole reason I hired you
was to protect my casino deal,

keep the government on side.

Instead, you are
pissing them off on stuff

you couldn't possibly give a shit about.

Public transport?

Three years I've worked and paid off
every soft cock in my road,

and you jeopardise it.

You're on my channel.
You know your topics. Stick to them.

You are my bum boy.

When I say 'jump', you jump.
You do as I bloody say.

No, no, correction. You are my bitch.

You bark when I whistle.

Fuck you!

And fuck you right back.

Curtain just came down on your show.

I own this fuckin' city.

No, no, you own a bit of real estate.

I run this town now. I am its voice.

So it was your toothpaste
in your toiletry kit?

Yeah. I was pretty played out
when I hit the airport.

I had some sort of weird betel nut thing
the night before.

I was seeing a lot of things
that weren't actually there.

Ah.

Does it really matter what brand of
toothpaste it was?

'Course it bloody does!

It means whoever it was had access
to your toiletry bag, you goose.

Oh, I thought we'd get round to her. You
want to put this on Patience, don't you?

She didn't do it.

Then you did it, OK?

'Cause that's the way a jury's
going to look at it. A or B.

Either you did it or she did it,
or both of you did it.

And I choose B.

She's the wife
of a government minister.

Oh, she's his fourth wife and she was
forced at gunpoint into marrying him.

He's a warlord, Cleave.

You know, I'm kind of married to her,
too.

We had some sort of wild ceremony.

This guy waved a branch over us
and we drank some wild shit

and consummated it
in front of witnesses.

Oh, I'm only surprised
the Women's Weekly didn't cover it.

You are not going to pin it on her.

The only way that you are gonna
stay out of prison

and get your Mum to speak
a more workable language

is if I play the race card
and we hope for a tabloid jury.

'Poor innocent white boy falls prey

to evil black woman
from corrupt African state.'

Do you understand me? That is the way
that we are gonna play it!

Fine.

I'll get someone else to represent me.

I don't need you.

Let me have a quiet word.

You stupid bloody idiot!

Your father is the only person alive
who can actually help you here.

- Let go.
- Hey, can't you see?

You're destroying your life, mate.

No, you can't,
'cause you're young and stupid,

and you just think
everything's gonna sort itself out.

Well, guess what? It won't!

- Stop it,!
- Wake up to yourself!

What the hell is wrong with you?

Getting him used to what the next
ten years in prison'll feel like.

Keep hitting him and you'll join him.
What's wrong with you?

Mate, the woman is setting you up!

Well, the woman
has asked to see Cleaver.

Sorry, mate.

I would like to plead guilty, please.

So you're admitting you did it?

No, but I do not want your son hurt.

The diamonds were planted
by my husband.

Not only is he the Foreign Minister,
but he is the Minister of Customs,

the Head of Police,
and he is untouchable.

If you didn't do it, don't plead it.

Even if you did it, don't plead it.

I would prefer prison here to
what he would do to me if I go back.

Look, you're going to need
a good lawyer, OK?

I can't represent you
because it'd be a conflict of interest.

Don't worry. I know someone.

Fuzz is my godson.

You know the only defence I can give
this woman is to accuse him.

- Of course.
- I'm not gonna do it.

I would never do anything to hurt him.

You, maybe.

So let's leave it
to some other barrister

who hasn't known Fuzz from birth.

He didn't do it, Red.

I know that.

What are you suggesting?

I have to represent
this woman properly.

- Naturally.
- Of course.

To the full extent of the law.

With everything that entails.

Ahh.

A full and lengthy and vigorous debate?

Probably.

So whose side will you be briefing?

My godson's.

And I imagine a lot of facts?

Not as many as I imagine.

In Finnegan Greene's suitcase,

Customs Officers discovered $7 million
worth of stolen blood diamonds.

Diamonds mined under
the most terrible of conditions

and stolen and smuggled out
with the full and knowing cooperation

of Patience Muamba, wife
of a prominent Government Minister.

This case is anything
but simple, touching as it does

on the recent,
terrible history of the Congo.

Now, it would be impossible for you
to make an informed judgement

without understanding
that recent history,

and when apprised of that knowledge,

you will find my client,
Patience Muamba,

innocent.

I take exception
with Ms Engel's opening remarks.

She blithely states that
to comprehend this case

we need to understand the recent
history of the Congo.

- Nonsense.
- Hear, hear.

To get at the truth,
we must go much deeper,

back to the time
of the Belgian occupation,

and then methodically work our way
through, era by era.

The terrible history of that region.

The Democratic Republic of the Congo,
also known as DR Congo

has gone through a number
of different appellations.

Belgian Congo,
The Congo Free State,

Republic of the Congo, Zaire...

DR Congo borders nine other countries,

including Angola, Zambia, Tanzania,

Rwanda, Burundi, Sudan,
Central African Republic.

Belgium colonisation
under King Leopold is probably

the worst example ever
of colonial rule.

The Republic is economically
affiliated with South Africa

as a member of the South African
Development Community,

the SADC.

I have a listing of each of the acronyms
on a Power Point...

- OK! That's it.

My chambers, now!

All rise.

If either of you ever pull
this bullshit again,

I'll fucking tan your hides

and send you to whichever Congo
it is we're talking about.

DR Congo.

You're deliberately confusing my jury.

Yeah, 'course we are, Jim.
We're barristers.

I realise he's your son,

and that's the very reason
you shouldn't be defending him.

Your boy is in very bloody serious
trouble, Cleave,

and your case is going nowhere
and I'll direct the jury to that end.

And the same with you, Ms Engels.

So after your people trawl through
my client's luggage at the airport,

finding nothing, it would seem,

my client leaves
and then suddenly the Federal Police

are raiding the family home. Why?

We received an anonymous tip-off,

which we passed on
to the Federal Police.

Didn't that strike you as being
ever so slightly convenient?

We often get tip-offs.

But wouldn't these normally come
before an aircraft lands?

Tell me, Officer, what is the airport
security like at Kinshasa?

Very, very low. Our government issues
travel warnings.

Right.
Tell me, Officer, have you personally

flown with a commercial airline
in the past ten years?

I have.

See, now I'm judging by the ring on
your finger that you're a married man.

Has your wife ever packed a bag for you?

I don't recall. Maybe.

So even you,
an Australian Customs Officer,

may have made a false declaration

and been unaware
of the contents of his own suitcase.

It's highly unlikely.

But surely 'highly unlikely'
also means that it's possible.

So isn't there a very real possibility

that my client, a fine young man,

working as a missionary
with the poorest of the poor,

may have been egregiously set up
by parties known or unknown.

Your Honour, I must object.

This is hardly a question
for this witness.

We all know there's a reason
why the diamonds are called

'blood diamonds' and we all know
where they came from.

I must protest at the way
Mr Greene is wasting our time.

'I did know they were in my bag'
is a pathetic defence

and an insult to this court.

Indeed.

The only merit in your question,
Mr Greene,

is that it didn't involve a detailed
history of Central Africa.

I reject the question.

Can you write it in English?

Just try.

Mm.

German.

It's German.

So it would appear
that you're speaking Indonesian

but writing in German.

I wonder what you're gonna sing in.

But if the question was about Fuzz,

um, I don't know.

I'm doing what I can.

What are you doing? You sleepwalking?

I got your text.

- Yeah.
- 'Fuzz SOS. I'm in chambers'.

- Yeah.
- Is Fuzz OK?

Well, physically, not legally.

Well, I already knew that.
I was aware of that.

You know what SOS stands for?

- Save Our Souls.
- Yeah!

Yeah. I was emoting.

You don't emote with an SOS, Cleaver.

An SOS is not a call for emotion.
It is a call for action!

You know, I got up
with my breasts leaking, I...

I left my child and I drove into the
city because you were emoting.

Well, I didn't ask you to come.

I thought that something terrible
had happened.

- You should have called.
- I did.

Did you? Oh, shit.

See this? This Polish phone
of your mother's...

Oh, you're kidding me.

Well, um...

Look, I'm sorry if there was
a miscommunication, alright?

But my son is looking down the barrel
right now.

And you know
that I'd do anything for him.

But I don't think was
a miscommunication, Cleaver.

You wanted me here
because misery loves company.

You just want to have me
at your beck and call.

Well, let me tell you something.

I'm not your slave. You don't own me.

I know that you assume
that you own me, but you don't.

You're right.

I have made an assumption about
ownership which could be wrong.

Which is wrong.

See, it's a question
of whether it can be proven.

- What, that I'm your slave?
- That they're blood diamonds.

That's their case. Their whole case is
'We know where they came from',

but actually, we don't know
where they came from.

There's got to be somebody on this floor
who's got a copy of Drenan

on Copyright and Provenance.

Well, I'm dressed for crime.

Your Honour, I wish to...

What?
Exhume the body of King Leopold?

No. I wish to challenge the entire legal
premise of this case.

Well, it's a little bit late
in the day for that.

You found some law dating back
to the time of the Druids?

Provenance, Your Honour.

My client, and Patience Muamba are
charged with the theft and importation

of blood diamonds.

The Crown's entire case is premised

on the idea that they stole them and
smuggled them into the country.

Thank you for clearing that up
for the jury.

Except they haven't established
provenance.

Where is the statement or certificate

telling us where these diamonds
came from in the first place?

Where is the evidence that these are,
in fact, blood diamonds?

Because if the Crown has no proof

of where these diamonds
came from in the first place,

and thus far it's been pure assertion,

then the only case we have to answer
is one of Customs and Excise,

and that's, what, a fine at worst.

Ms Guilfoyle,

Mr Greene's point, for a change,
is relevant.

Your Honour,
if they are blood diamonds,

they have no provenance.

Your Honour, with respect,
that is an inherent nonsense.

If they have no provenance,

then my friend cannot assert that
they're blood diamonds.

Nor can she assert theft,

nor the importation
of illicit substances.

So what's the fine, Your Honour?

Just so you know, that's the
last time you're going overseas.

- Yes, Dad.
- Ever.

- Yes.
- You're not leaving Darlinghurst.

- See ya. I'll call the kids tonight.
- OK.

Thank you, all the saints,
and thank you, Cleaver Greene.

- Get in.
- Oh, Col.

Just give me one victorious moment,
for God's sakes.

Jump in, will ya, Cleave?

Don't you find it exhausting
chasing people like me?

I mean, I'm exhausted just being me,
but chasing people like me?

I mean, I honestly reckon that requires
more energy than being me.

And if being me
is no way to spend a life,

then chasing people like me is
an even less of a way to spend a life.

So I mean, what is all this
spider-and-fly bizzo? Ohh!

Oh, I couldn't have said it better
myself, Cleave.

You know, I'm exhausted

and I'm sick of all this bullshit.

I'm sick of torturing flies.

Oh, right.

Yeah, so we're going legit.

Marcel's is going to be my flagship,

but it really needs to
go in a different direction.

Well, you can't argue with that.

Close your eyes, Cleave.

No, he doesn't need to close his eyes,
sweetie.

You're gonna show him the things?

Right so you enter the door,
and what do you find?

What is the first thing you see?

- Wagon wheel.
- Wagon wheel!

- Mate, hay bales.
- Hay bales.

This is Kirsty's Country
and Western Chop Shop.

All the waiters are dressed as cowboys.
Right, there's me.

And all the waitresses
dressed as cowgirls.

Yeah, yeah,
and what do you hear?

Oh, my God, that's karaoke.

That's every country-and-western hit
you can think of.

Oh, it's genius, guys. Inspired.

- Yeah.
- So what do you want from me?

40 grand for Johnny Cash's guitar, or,

you know 100,000 for the toilet seat
that Elvis busted?

No, no. We're gonna buy you out.

Fuckin' lawyers say we have
to pay you to get rid of you

and so this way it'll look like you've
been paid a good whack for your shares.

See?

Really?

So the 300 grand you say I owe you...

Just sign on the dotted line, Cleave,
and then we're done.

- Seriously?
- Seriously. Just sign.

- I love you.
- I love you.

Hey, Cleave.

Ho! How are you, mate?

Where's Patience of Bondo?

She got on a plane last night.

Back to her husband's loving embrace?

Zurich. It's where 90%
of the diamonds are now.

The whole thing here
was just a diversion.

- A diversion?
- Yeah.

Made them look the wrong way
at the small shit

while the big shit was happening
right under their noses.

Patience is starting
a government in exile.

- A government in exile, in Zurich?
- Yep.

She reckons in about three years
the government'll fall

and she'll have enough resources and
support to move in and take over.

Yeah, well, either that

or she'll be living the life
of bloody Riley in Switzerland.

Yeah, that's possible.
I'll concede that.

But even if you're right, she hurt
her husband and the government,

and they are really, really bad guys,
Dad.

I'm sure they are, mate.

But tell me, were you in on this
from the beginning?

Not the beginning,
but pretty early on, yeah.

What did you get out of it?

An education.

She taught me a lot, Patience.

- You played me.
- I had to. I'm sorry.

Fuzz, you risked
your whole fuckin' future...

No, I didn't.

I knew if you thought I was innocent,
you'd get me off. And I was right.

You had that amount of faith in me?

I always have, Dad.

Yeah, you disappointed me a lot
over the years,

but I never lost my faith in you.

I've always known you love me
and you would fight for me.

OK, I'm thinking eggs.

Paul Wendon, you are the stepson
of the mining and media magnate

Tikki Wendon.

Your stepmother is the major client
of Bligh Phillips

and you are a close friend
of James Horner.

Ah, no, we're not close.
I've met him but I hardly know him.

So James Horner is not someone you
would regularly, say, do drugs with?

No, I don't do drugs.

- You don't take drugs?
- No.

Never have. No way.

He's digging a hole halfway to China.

OK, so not a friend
and you don't take drugs.

Commissioner, I wish to play
a taped phone message

intercepted and given to us
by the Drug Squad.

OK, what's she got here, Horny?

Fuck, I don't know.

Horny!
Horny, fuck, mate, where are ya?

I'm standing outside Splatter,
waiting for you, you arsehole.

You carrying? 'Cause I'm light.

How the... what? Mate, why are
you calling me? Call Robbie.

Well, fuck Robbie!
I need a couple of beers, mate.

Can you make the call?

Ah, yeah, yep. Yeah, that James Horner.

Yeah, I know him.
He's ah, he's a mate of mine.

So what?

You regularly buy cocaine,
do you not, Mr Wendon?

No. No, I deny that.

June 21, there was a break-in at TWE.

Computers were stolen,
mainframes smashed

and an elderly security guard
was shot dead.

It was on your floor, wasn't it?

I don't know anything about that.

It's got nothing to do with me.

I hope he speaks Mandarin.

..your stepmother moved you
right out of the building,

to work on Cal McGregor's cable show.

Tell me, where you behind
this break-in?

No.

Mr Wendon,
do you know the penalty for perjury?

Oh, it was just an email.

I'm sorry?
What was just an email?

What's the email you're...

I only wanted him to go in
and get rid of the bloody email.

Again, Mr Wendon, what email?

I never asked anyone
to go kill the old bugger.

- Objection!
- Alright, you know me, Cleave.

- You know it was an accident!
- Objection!

I swear to God. I swear, Cleaver.
Tell 'em.

- I never meant to anyone to die...
- Quiet!

I'll have quiet
in my court! Quieten down.

Captions by CSI Australia