Original subtitles

It's a jungle out there.

It's a jungle out there.

It's a jungle out there.

You got everything you need?

I heard you requested a solicitor and a QC.

Know this.

Every time you put your head up, I'm going to kick it.

So you can spend as much money as you like.

It's not going to help you.

It's taken us years, and now I've got you.

And all our ducks--

they're all lined up in a row.

So if you really want to help yourself,

then you make a statement.

Tell me what happened, why you did it.

You think I should?

You reckon it would help me?

Those ducks of yours--

It's almost summer, and I

can almost feel that sweet sunshine

thawin' out this heart of mine.

Woo!

Yes, it's almost summer.

And I will spend each sweet day--

Probably do with a couple more coats.

Not bad, bud.

Time you came back to your old trade.

Yeah.

Well, I done so good at me last one.

Terrence Wallace Falconer,

a lifelong, if relatively small-time crook,

was coming to the end of a five-year jail

term for amphetamine production and supply.

With parole only a few weeks away, he was on work release

and enjoying life.

He'd made a few decisions.

He was getting his act together.

Hey, Dad.

Hey, mate.

How are you?

Boy, come here.

- How're you going, Al? - Hey.

Yeah, good. Yeah.

- You want a chip? - No.

So where on that document I signed my life away in

does it say anything about you having tea with your family?

Oh, well, I won't say nothing if you don't.

Go on. Off you go.

Ah, thanks.

But you'll be breaking rocks all over.

The blokes manage to start that XY yet?

It's the fuel filter.

It's not the fuel filter.

It's the electric.

Or maybe the points.

It was going chika-chika.

It's not the points.

It's not the electronic.

All right, all right.

You two get that XY started by the time

Uncle Barry's Christmas bash comes around,

I'll be very happy.

I'm looking forward to that.

Yeah, no worries.

Al reckons he's got a job for me here, so once I'm out,

we'll be able to give her a respray.

Now, I better get back to it.

So we'll see youse Monday?

Yeah.

Be good.

Look after him. - Yeah.

Yeah.

Bit cute.

Takes after his old man.

Well, I hope that's all they get from me.

Believe an individual by name of Terrence Wallace Falconer

is on work release here.

Yeah.

Terry?

What, love?

Detectives MacArthur and Patton, Mr. Falconer.

Where do you blokes hail from?

We have some questions for you.

Far away?

You'll need to accompany us to the station.

Well, man, I'm at work, fellows.

I mean, you know where I'm going to be tonight,

at her majesty's hotel.

Why don't you just pop in?

Hands in front, sunshine.

Oh, come on.

All right.

All right, all right.

Here, here.

Back in a tick, Karina.

Terry Falconer's criminal career

had been pretty varied.

In between panel-beating and amphet manufacturing,

he tried his hand at car rebirthing,

receiving stolen goods, and money laundering.

Plus, he'd been associated with the Gypsy

Jokers outlaw motorcycle club.

So cops wanting a chat wasn't that unusual.

You blokes should have your seat belts on, you know?

You're breaking the law.

Where you from, anyway?

Like gangs or drug squad?

What?

Pull over for a moment, constable.

That car ride kicked off

one of the longest police investigations

in Australia's history.

How long is this going to take?

I mean, some of us have got real jobs, you know.

Hold him!

Shit!

Get a hold of him!

I'm trying!

Shh!

Shh!

Shh!

You think he's going to be OK?

He'll be fine.

It's a pretty warm day.

Don't fucking worry about it!

Remember to bend your knees.

Prevents lower back injuries.

Ready?

OK, phase three.

I get changed, swap the tires and the plates

back, drop that back to mine.

See you in a couple of days.

Take this in.

Remember to bend your knees.

Open it.

Let me get out.

Get me out, mate.

Where am I?

Check him.

Is that a Gypsy Joker tag?

It's a skull.

No, I think that's a Joker.

No, I'm not a Joker.

You're the dog who murdered my grandparents.

No, I didn't.

So, um, you want me to drop him back now?

Are you fucking for real?

Sure, take the prick home.

No worries.

Put him in the ute.

You and Muzz are driving him up.

Up where?

Don't ask so many fucking questions.

So, um, Rooster, just--

this is going to knock off that hundred grand I owe, isn't it?

Anthony John Michael Perish, known as Rooster,

grew up with his large family on a poultry farm in the city's

semi-rural outskirts.

In June 1993, when Anthony was 24

and on the run for a minor drug charge,

his grandmother and grandfather were brutally murdered.

In the long years since, no charges have

been brought against anyone.

I need to talk to you.

Yeah?

What about?

Didi and Baba.

What about them?

I know who killed them.

I know for sure this time, OK?

Yeah?

Who?

Some fucker called Terry Falconer.

Never heard of him.

OK, just listen, all right?

Swamp Rat was down at this pub in Macquarie Fields,

and he met this sheila.

And this sheila says that she knows for a fact

that Terry Falconer was the shooter.

Now, the other thing is that she says

that he knew all this stuff about how

Didi and Baba were killed.

What stuff?

Stuff that the cops didn't even release.

Stuff like how they were found in the wrong beds.

You know you always tell stories wrong.

You can't tell a joke without getting it ass-about.

That's what's happened here.

Come here.

Hey there, Rooster.

He didn't want to come with me,

and I knew you wouldn't believe me.

This sheila, she--

was she pissed?

High?

And Terry Falconer, that was the name?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Terry Falconer.

That's what she said.

She got a letter from the cops,

didn't she, saying how the prick's a dog.

Yeah, yeah.

Saw it with me own two eyes.

He did it, all right?

Falconer is the shooter.

Now we're to do something about it.

All right.

Well, why would some Gypsy Joker lad kill a man?

I mean, what's in it for him?

Maybe it was that meth lab you set up in the back

of Didi and Baba backyard. Maybe that's--

How many times do I have to fucking tell you?

It had something to do with it.

No one knew about that.

Maybe he was put up to it by someone who you pissed off!

And if we don't do something about it, we look weak as piss.

Oh, grow up!

Grow up!

Me grow up?

You're the big tough guy!

And all these years, Didi and Baba have

been rotting in the ground.

And what have you been doing about it, Anthony?

Sweet fucking nothing!

about this this--

then I'm gonna take care of it, all right?

I'll fix it.

I'll fucking--

Always trying to stick it in before it's stiff, eh?

Fuck.

I mean, he's-- look, I'm not doing

anything that points the cops to me, you, any of us, all right?

So what are we going to do, then?

I'm going to do it right.

I am nothing without pretend.

I know my faults, can't live with them.

I am nothing without a man.

I know my thoughts, but I can't hide them.

Must you keep my baby teeth in the bedside table

with my jewelry?

You still sleep in the bed with me,

my jewelry, and my baby teeth.

Beers for the boys, eh?

I'll have one.

Any problems?

Let's do this, eh?

Is he alive?

Everybody wants to touch me.

Everybody wants to feel.

Everybody wants a piece of something that's real.

Everybody wants to touch me.

They all love my skin.

They all want to take me home.

They don't even care where I been.

Everybody wants to touch me.

Everybody wants a little pat.

They all want to--

Terry Falconer was listed

as an escapee when he failed to return

to Silverwater Jail by 6:00 PM.

You sure they weren't real cops?

They seemed legit to me.

I saw their badges, their guns, everything.

No, no, we checked it out.

Nobody sent any officers to question Mr. Falconer.

Well, their car looked like a real cop car.

It even had one of them little aerials.

What did these guys look like?

Like you guys, like cops.

Course he went with them.

Now, I know what you blokes are thinking.

He's done a runner.

But why would he?

He'll get paroled in a month.

I mean, Terry's made a fair share of wrong turns

in his life, but he's not an idiot.

He's a good bloke, and he was getting it together.

The investigation was sky wide.

Terry could have faked his own disappearance, could have been

kidnapped by corrupt cops, could have even been snatched

by enemies posing as cops.

Without a body, it was going to be

impossible to prove any theory.

The bloody hell is that?

There's another one over there!

Look!

The bloke Australians did vote for, Prime

Minister John Howard, was celebrating with champagne

at the government house in Canberra after the swearing-in

of his new ministry--

Are we done?

All done.

- in the hope that he'll eventually

get to sample the governor-general's bubbly too,

Mr. Green is embarking on a "listen and learn" strategy,

trying to find out what voters want form the Labor party.

Police have identified the body parts of a man found

in six bags in the Hastings River at Wauchope

as those of missing prisoner Terry Falconer.

Two weeks ago, the 52-year-old, who was on work release,

was abducted by three men claiming to be police officers.

Falconer had just six weeks left to serve of a five-year jail

term for drug offenses.

So this is you putting it right, is it?

You dump him in a tidal river.

Did you think the fucking tide might go in?

Doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter?

The whole idea was that the body was never meant to be found!

So what did he-- what did he--

did he say-- what did he say?

About what?

About why he killed Didi and Baba?

Didn't ask him.

You didn't ask him?

What the fuck are you on?

I was supposed to be there.

I was supposed to be there when we took him out.

But you went ahead.

You would've stuffed it up like always.

Me, stuff it up?

They found his body!

They found his fucking body!

He would've been over continental shelf

if your mate had come through.

Fuck you, Anthony!

Fuck you, dickhead!

Falconer killed Didi and Baba.

You said so.

Everyone said so.

We agreed he had to go.

But what if--

what if he didn't?

Are you deaf?

I did what I did, and I kept you out of it.

It's going to be all right, Undies.

Come on, mate. Come on.

Come on.

All right?

I'm gonna take care of you.

It's all right.

Yeah?

Where are you?

This isn't going to be a problem, is it?

They're going on about how he was abducted by pretend cops.

They got photofits of us.

Your own lover wouldn't recognize you.

Mate, Falconer was a shitbag drug

dealer from Macquarie Fields.

Any investigation is going to be a joke.

Keep your people under control.

There'll be no problem.

I'm making moves, kid.

I'm making moves.

I'm making moves, kid.

I know.

I know it didn't work out the way we planned it,

but he had to go.

Besides, none of us have got any connections with him.

We are in the clear.

Are you cool, Vito?

Listen.

The prick was mouthing off, being smart,

not giving a straight answer.

When he started saying he was going to rat on us,

that's just when I went up to him and chopped his head off.

- come along, friend, and lend me a hand, now.

Don't just stand around while a man is down on his luck,

stuck, couldn't get a bang out my buck.

And I'm just lapping it up, acting as if I'm happy as fuck,

'cause I am.

Get greedy.

I'm making making moves, kid.

I'm making moves, kid.

Jubelin, you're upside down.

Relieves stress.

You should give it a go.

Ah, I'll stick to Ella Fitzgerald and sauv blanc.

Have you seen this?

Pretty brazen, impersonating cops.

Yeah.

Well, he was kidnapped, dismembered, and then dumped.

Putting a strike force on him.

I'm gonna put my hand up.

Right-o.

You go for gold, Gary.

Hey.

If I get OIC on this, you want to join me?

No, because I'm OIC of Strike Force Snowden.

Have fun.

Gary Kevin Jubelin was an Aries,

a practicing Buddhist, and drank green tea instead of coffee.

His workmates called him Crazy Fuck--

behind his back, of course.

Strike Force Tuno will investigate

the murder of Terry Falconer.

Have you got any suspects?

We have a number of lines of inquiry we're investigating.

The victim was a bikie.

Is this a turf war?

At the moment, it's too early to speculate

on what the motives were behind Mr. Falconer's death.

If his murder was part of organized crime,

Tuno could run for months, couldn't it?

We don't put a time limit on clearing up murder.

That said, I have every confidence that Detective

Sergeant Jubelin--

We'll take as long as it takes.

Yeah, call you back.

Mr. Falconer's murder was a particularly

violent and vicious crime.

It needs to be solved, and I'm committed to doing that.

What are you watching?

You.

Show us your tits.

Every murder investigation is different.

Nobody knew how long it would take

to catch Terry Falconer's his killer, not even Gary Jubelin.

He couldn't guess it would take almost a decade,

or that Terry's murder would expose a hidden web

of vice, violence, and death.

My condolences, Mr. Falconer.

Mr. Falconer?

That was always my dad.

How's the investigation?

It's early days yet, mate.

So, detectives, caught Uncle Terry's killer yet?

The investigation is proceeding, Miss Erlich.

Those blokes who kidnapped him, they had police gear on,

didn't they?

One of them wore a police uniform.

If someone, like, knew something about something,

and they told youse, would they, like, get a reward?

No reward for information has been offered at this stage.

But if you had information on your uncle's murder,

I'd imagine you'd want to pass it on, wouldn't you?

Paulina?

Not here.

Meet me tonight.

But I'll only talk to you, Detective Browne.

You said you had something to tell

me about your uncle's death.

Shit.

Lend us 10 bucks.

Had this shirt and the police shirt, you know?

With them blue epaulette thingies?

Not dressed up or nothing, the real deal.

How'd you come by it?

Boyfriend gave it to me.

A couple of weeks ago, some guy asked me if he could borrow it.

Got a name?

Can't remember.

Where'd you meet him?

Some pub.

How'd he know you had a police shirt?

I'd had a few.

Is there anything you can remember?

He wore colors.

Which club?

Living Dead.

A bit more on the bozzies, love.

Don't bother.

Mr. Pengilly, I'm Detective Jubelin.

This is Detective Evers, part of Strike Force Tuno,

investigating the body that was dumped in the Hastings River

by men impersonating police.

Know anything about that?

Mate, I don't talk to cops.

Now, if you mind, I'm shooting a movie.

Oh, is that for Tropfest, mate?

Because you do know it is illegal to shoot

porn in New South Wales.

Oh, you're right, Detective Evers.

Why don't you get on the phone and call Vice?

Yeah, I mean, we could get them down,

and they could take a--

All right, give it a rest.

Way I hear, Falconer got what he deserved.

And how's that?

He was a dog.

Tell him, Kenny.

Saw this letter--

official police letter and a coat of arms.

It said Falconer will talk to anybody.

Where'd you see this document?

Some sheila.

She showed it to me.

She said she knew Falconer.

Is, uh-- is this her?

Nah.

She was older, black hair.

And what exactly did she say?

That Falconer-- he was a fucking dog.

It wasn't only from bikies

that Tuno officers heard stories of an older dark-haired woman

who had an official document, apparently

showing Terry Falconer was a police informant.

And it didn't take them long to fit

that description to Terry's former sister-in-law, Dianne

Louise Erlich.

It wasn't me.

A letter like that would get Terry

into all sorts of trouble.

Why didn't you and Terry get on?

He never liked that I had friends in motorcycle clubs--

clubs that rival his Gypsy Jokers.

And you never spoke to anyone about his dealings with police?

Now, why would I do that?

I mean, I'm not a dog, am I?

Mate, she knew she was putting a burn notice on Terry.

Never trust someone with that many Cocker Spaniels, mate.

Jack Russells, yes.

But Cockers?

Dodgy.

My dad never wore Joker colors.

He never was a member of any club.

I just want youse to know that.

It's Jase, isn't it?

You want to tell us anything else about your dad, Jase?

Anything to do with his death?

Terry was married twice, and son James is to his first wife?

Yeah.

And Jase is from his second.

And where does Dianne Erlich fit in?

She's Terry's second ex-wife's sister,

mother to the delightful Paulina,

and she is his biggest fan-- not.

We've had a dozen reports of her flashing around that document,

badmouthing Terry.

Well, at the moment, that's the best lead we've got.

But she's not going to be--

unlikely to be directly involved in the kidnapping.

Task Force Tuno.

Well, Dianne's admitted associations with bikies.

Yeah.

If she knew her daughter had a police shirt,

she could be the link between it and the living dead.

Paulina Erlich is downstairs with a lawyer.

Ah, but she'll only talk to Gary this time.

I understand one of your detectives

took a statement from my client.

Senior Constable Browne?

That's right.

Miss Erlich has made a new statement on this man.

She said Brownie made her say she had the police shirt.

And she only agreed to because you

and she are having an affair.

An affair?

That'll go down well with the Police Integrity Commission.

It's your savage sexuality, Brownie.

You must have driven her insane, mate.

Well, does that mean she was lying about the shirt, too?

Maybe, maybe not.

Strike Force Tuno.

Right.

Jase Falconer has just attacked his auntie

with an antique iron.

Come with me.

She showed every single biker in town

that letter, every single one.

She got Dad killed.

He nearly killed me, that bloody animal.

Well, what did you expect when you go around sledging his dad?

Oh, come on.

I didn't do that.

Don't talk shit to me, Dianne, right?

You sold Terry down the river.

You called him a dog.

I never thought he'd get--

I never thought anything bad would happen to him.

Well, I'll tell you what I want to know.

Why'd you do it?

You want him out of the way so you get a piece

of his old drug business? Is that the deal?

No, no.

I just-- the clubs got paranoid, you know?

And they started thinking I was a dog.

And I'm not.

I'm not.

I just-- I just wanted to point them away so I could feel safe.

But I never meant for him to be hurt.

You're never going to catch who killed him, are you?

We're just westie lowlifes with a shitty crook for a dad.

Who cares if someone like him gets chopped to pieces?

Well, how am I supposed to do

the job when you've cut half the staff

before we get to square one?

You can't argue with the budget.

I can't do what you've asked me to do.

Am I talking to a brick wall?

I want my strongest objection registered.

Go home.

Just go home and take a cold shower.

With the money you save, buy yourself a pair

of fucking glasses, you--

Tuno going well?

Oh, no, it's going great.

I've just been told about half my staff have

been returned to their squads.

I can take over if you like.

Would you like to have dinner with me, Pam?

Oh, I can't imagine what we'd talk about.

Well, we're homicide, detective sergeants.

We got a lot in common.

Yeah, and I can hear the office gossip from here.

So is that a yes?

There's gotta be someone big behind this.

Ordinary crook doesn't pull off a hit so elaborate.

The barramundi, please.

I'll just get the snapper, mate.

So what sort of films do you like, Gary?

I mean, I really like the latest Woody Allen--

They're not gonna put me off, you know?

I'm going to get this fella.

It's called "Curse of the Jade Scorpion."

It's very funny.

Not gonna shut down Tuno over my watch, Pam.

It's not going to happen.

Gary, since when do you even have the power

to decide which cases run?

This is bad crime.

There's bad crime everywhere.

It happens all the time.

There's not enough resources.

So if you don't have a result soon, then Tuno will close.

Course, there's your reputation.

And what does that mean, my reputation?

You're the patron saint of lost causes.

Is that right, is it?

Mhm.

Anthony Perish called his business The Company.

Although its profits were in the millions,

it had no head office, no business

plan, no corporate structure.

Anthony was CEO, sole shareholder.

And there was only one company rule--

if you crossed him, you'd pay.

So while some in the underworld knew or suspected

he was behind Terry Falconer's murder,

none was game to speak out against a man who could

string up a human being on a meat hook

and butcher him like a beast.

But Anthony Perish had one piece of bad luck.

Gary Jubelin was a man who never gave up.

Frank O'Rourke?

Detectives Browne and Rankin from Strike Force Tuno.

We've got some questions about the murder of Terry Falconer.

I know why you're here.

I know who killed Terry Falconer.

Mr. O'Rourke, do you think we could come inside?

Won't tell you anything here.

I'm as good as dead just talking to you.

Meet me at the parkland off Cowpasture Road, 9:00 PM.

Mr. O'Rourke--

Just you two.

Anyone else, I piss off.

Go.

Fuck off.

How did we get this guy's name?

Isn't that the bikie, Ironblood?

Well, he's not long out of jail, fellas.

Have a look at this.

Eight years for manslaughter.

He's got form for assault, assault of police officer,

possession of firearms.

He's going to be there in 40 minutes.

He also did some of his time in the same jail as Falconer.

Jase, you ring Browney every 20 minutes.

Youse are alone?

You know stuff about Falconer's murder.

Yeah, I know stuff.

I know it all.

You know who killed him?

Who killed him?

Mr. O'Rourke, are we wasting our time?

Anthony Perish.

Anthony Perish killed Terry Falconer.

Who's Anthony Perish?

After three long months,

Strike Force Tuno finally had a name for their murderer.

There was only one small problem.

It was a name they'd never heard of.

It's a jungle out there.

It's a jungle out there.

It's a jungle out there.