Original subtitles

We have a witness that places

both Taylor and Cutmore near the scene.

We have a farmer who saw two men,

one of them carrying a brown suitcase,

walking in the direction of the car towards the weir,

the same weir from which Detective Bruce here

retrieved this brown suitcase...

filled with implements of crime.

We also have an old chap who saw them

getting into taxi number 11-0-22

outside Cliveden Mansions at 8am that very day.

He tells us the two men he saw are definitely not fellow residents.

And the accused - Cutmore and Taylor?

Typical criminal thugs.

That's Cutmore to a tee, but Taylor,

I reckon he's got a bit more going on up top.

Not after he's hanged, he won't.

Squizzy Taylor. Your lawyer's here.

- I didn't do it. - Me neither.

- I never killed that taxidriver. - Me neither.

I was nowhere near Doncaster that day.

My girlfriend will tell you. I was with her.

Yep, and I was there too.

The police case against you is...

a mite more substantial.

And Piggott and Brophy are brimming with confidence.

We can't sort it out while we're stuck in here.

Any reason you can't arrange bail, Eugene?

£50 for him.

Hold on. I've got two eyewitnesses.

You can't be serious.

And...

And £50 for him.

Mr Cutmore. Pub?

Oh, and how, Les. I could go a beer.

I could murder one, in fact.

You're not worried you'll swing?

Not if you swing with me, Annie.

I like my business nice and regular.

Now, a murder charge could be somewhat problematic for you.

- Distracting. - Henry.

I agree that your average bloke on the street

facing the, uh, hangman's noose

may regard it as somewhat of a problem.

See, but I, on the other hand,

I see me situation in an altogether different complexion.

I see it as a challenge.

So how are we gonna nobble those witnesses?

- Snowy! - Ways and means, mate.

How's trade?

The Rats had a lean couple of days.

- Everywhere's quiet. - What the hell is that?

Three lines on page five. Is that all I fuckin' rate?

What is with that fuckin' nickname again?

- Got my name right, Squizz. - Shut up.

Come on, fellas. We've got work to do.

Oh, Mr Farmer! Thank you, Mr Farmer!

I beg your pardon?

Well, the gentleman sitting there

may resemble the shortish man

I saw getting into the car that day,

but... as to it actually being him?

Well, now I can't be certain.

You are the matron of the City Watch House?

Yes.

And on the night of March 17,

the defendants were in the cells there?

Yes, they were in adjoining cells three and four.

Did they have any conversation together?

They did.

- And did you hear it? - I did.

At about 11pm, prisoner Taylor was feeling jittery

about the eyewitnesses ranged against 'em.

Those bloody witnesses.

Les.

Stop tapping.

Can you stop fuckin' tapping?

And then he calmed somewhat.

Did Taylor discuss his change of heart

with Cutmore?

- He did. - Oi, Snow.

What?

Well, the way I see it,

those bastards can't very well pot us

if the witnesses of theirs can't identify us.

Right. So how are we gonna do it?

Once we've made bail...

"The bastards can't very well pot us for it

"if those witnesses of theirs can't identify us."

And what did you understand from that?

That he meant to get at 'em. Get at the witnesses.

Dolly worries about me.

She reckons I'm gonna die young.

Someone's bound to put a bullet in me head one day,

she reckons.

I just laugh.

She wouldn't be happy

if she didn't have anything to worry about.

I wouldn't mind a bullet, or even a blade.

Anything but the rope.

Good old Doll. Been looking out for me since I was a kid.

It'd be half a day of your time, morning at most.

- You'd be done by lunch. - This has got sand in it.

What you're asking, Les, I could go to jail for it.

You, go to jail? A respectable, smooth-talking man like you?

You said yourself that me out

keeps this business running smoothly, alright?

- This is to your advantage. - Really?

Seems to me the advantage only flows one way.

Business is a two-way street, Les.

I do something for you, you have to do something for me.

So, what are you offering?

A 10% price cut on the sly grog.

15.

20?

Mr Stokes, where were you

on the morning of the 29th?

I was at the Crystal Cafe, on Bourke Street.

I arrived around 10am.

Did you see anyone you knew there?

Yes, Mr Cutmore and Mr Taylor were at a table near the rear,

with Miss Dolly Grey.

You saw the accused in Bourke Street,

in the city, at 10am?

The same time the prosecution claims they were shooting Mr Haines

a full 12 miles away in Doncaster?

I saw them at 10:00. They were sharing a pot of tea.

Mr Taylor was reading the newspaper -

the 'Argus', I believe.

Squizzy! Squizzy! Squizzy! Squizzy!

- This way, Squizzy! - It's the press, Squizzy!

Uh, gentlemen, it's Leslie, actually.

Glad to be found not guilty, Squizzy?

Glad to suck the sweet air of freedom into me lungs.

Do you have any words for the police, Squizzy?

Oh, look, Mr Brophy and Mr Piggott have a job to do.

I know that. It just seems to include harassing me.

And me name's actually Leslie...

Has being faced with a death sentence affected you, Squizzy?

- Has it changed you? - It's had a powerful impact.

And it's made me truly ponder the meaning of me life.

And will you mend your ways?

Well, put it this way.

Whilst you live, live in clover,

for when you're dead, you're dead all over.

Squizzy, Squizzy. One more.

Oh! Sorry.

- Oh. Hello, sir. - Hello, Squizzy.

Oh, well - glad to know we're still doing business,

Mr Brophy, huh?

- No hard feelings? - None.

I'm just gonna screw you for everything while I can.

The coppers don't appreciate being made look stupid, Les.

You shit in your own nest, you'll choke on it.

One day, Brophy.

One day, you'll tell your grandkids

you knew Leslie Taylor.

Knock, knock.

Or is there a secret password?

This is nice, isn't it? Hey? Lovely.

Very, uh... very homely.

Perfect for a little sly grogging

to the citizens of Fitzroy.

So you're free to pick pockets again, thanks to Henry Stokes.

You must be giving his dick a pretty solid suck.

No dick sucking involved, Harry. We're just good friends.

Yes, well, any mate of that bastard,

I'll take with a grain of salt.

Check it.

You think I'd sell you watered-down? Harry!

You wound me. You really do.

- Man of me word. - Good thing too.

Or I'd make you eat them.

So, you doing me the same price you're doing Stokes?

- Les! - Arsehole!

Les! Calm down! Look, it's not about you.

It's about him trying to put one over Henry Stokes.

They cross the street so they don't walk on the same cobble.

I don't care why. He's a dickhead.

And I need every penny I can get.

The bastards will send me to the poorhouse.

I was thinking maybe we could pull off a bank job.

Snowy would be in for sure, and we could top up the coffers

for all of us in one fell swoop.

No can do, mate. The jacks are watching me day and night.

I can't take a slash without Brophy or one of his uniforms

offering to shake it for me.

Right, and Snowy and Ed tell me it's the same for them,

but it's not gonna last forever, right?

And I'm planning to put one over them, but until then,

we're just gonna have to keep our heads below the battlements.

We could boost a safe, then.

We could roll a bookie. There's a big race day...

Fuck it, Gus!

I'll come up with the bright idea, OK?

But until then, you'll give it a rest.

Trouble is I got a couple of urgent domestic expenses.

Bloody Henry VIII here. Shouldn't have too many wives.

Well, at least Gus is married.

Some men round here ain't been down the aisle even once.

- How is Mrs Murray? - Which one?

The landlord's been going on and on about the rent.

And the butcher wouldn't extend me any more credit.

But now you're home, we can pay them all.

Of course we can.

- Love? - Hmm?

How much do we owe exactly?

£108, six shillings and tuppence.

Right.

Put your hands up or I'll blow your brains out!

I'm a desperate man, and I need all your money!

- Sorry. - I should punch your head in.

Probably for the best I'm in here, then.

What's the name of your accuser? I'll have a chat.

Thanks, mate, but it's... it's under control.

I think I'm going to have a shot at defending myself.

Defend yourself with what?

Power of the spoken word, mate.

- Gus. - Mate. -No, no, no, no.

One word in the teller's ear would be all it takes.

Les, I appreciate it, I really do.

But it's fine.

Let it please the court

that regarding the day in question, it is...

perpetrator of the crime speak with an accent

indigenous to those states of the Union

opposed to the abomination that is human slavery,

that the perpetrator of the crime

which bound him hand and foot,

thereafter purloining moneys from the safe,

spoke with a... with a Yankee accent.

What I wish to discover, in the interest of jurisprudence...

lends itself to rigorous testing of evidence

and the golden thread of the assumption of innocence,

is was this truly a...

was this truly a Yankee accent?

Beg pardon?

I'll repeat the question, shall I?

My love.

Come on.

- Don't bend over in the shower. - Thanks for the tip, Snow.

Alright.

So you... you'll come visit me sometime, yeah?

- Help me while away the hours? - You can count on it.

I warned him about doing jobs on his own.

QED - that's Latin for "It's not my fault."

"Dear Gus, Hope this finds you in the clover.

"Sorry I haven't dropped by yet,

"but I've been busy, very busy.

"My advice? Keep clear of any of Long Harry's mob.

"And remember, if you stand tall,

"no bastard can get you down.

"Meanwhile, I always find it helps

"to look back on the good times."

I can't sleep.

I said, I can't sleep.

Sorry, Gus.

Dolly is always telling me, I make things too complicated.

That's just 'cause she doesn't understand

the way me mind works.

You see, I like being

the smartest bloke in the room.

Gives me a thrill.

But the biggest thrill

is when you dream up an ambitious plan...

and bang, it comes off.

There's no other feeling like it.

It's better than sex.

It's time we took our relationship to the next level.

I've got a proposal, a way for us both

to get ahead a little in these difficult times.

But it's a bit... involved.

I've got a proposal for you, Harry,

a way for us both to make a quid in these difficult times.

Why would I do a job with you?

Well, we ain't ever worked together, Harry.

And why is that, huh?

Why haven't the Narrows Gang

and the Bourke Street Rats come together?

Joined forces like the Spartans and the Persians?

The Spartans and the Persians

kicked the shit out of each other.

Well, the point is that we're stronger as a team.

What's the plan?

A tried and tested one.

First, we use disguises to avoid identification.

And second, we organise a decoy to distract the staff

while we snatch the loot.

And third, my personal signature, we chain the door

so they can't chase us and call the jacks.

It's brilliant, huh?

And who do we use as a fence?

- Henry Stokes. - Stokes?

I wouldn't trust him further than that.

He'll get us a good price.

Yes, well, so would plenty of others.

Well, do they have Stokes's clout and his reach?

Stokes is a liar and a cheat, and he's from Tasmania!

I vouch for him.

What if I agree that one of your blokes is bagman?

Matt Daly.

He carries the loot,

and he does the deal with Stokes.

Is he reliable?

I'll vouch for him.

Mr Brophy, I want to... I want to get us back on an even keel.

You know, back to normal. Show...

- Show willing. - How willing?

Word on the street is there's gonna be a jewellery robbery.

So the jacks nab Daly before he gets here.

And they get to look like ace crime busters. Everybody wins.

- Except Matthew Daly. - Yeah, well.

He'll have to do a spot of time.

But as far as Long Harry's concerned,

that's because Daly attracted too much attention

and got himself arrested.

How do we make any money out of this?

Well, Mad Matt Daly's the decoy, right?

Snowy's the one lifting the loot.

And unknown to Matt, he's gonna make the lion's share disappear.

You stuff this up

and you'll have every man in town after you.

He's got the bag. Ready?

Let's just possess ourselves with patience.

See where he's headed.

Come on. Brophy, grab him!

What are you doing? Hurry up!

- Who are you? - What are you doing here, Daly?

- Mr Stokes! - What?

Police! Don't move.

Fucking jack! Don't you touch me!

Get your hands off me!

Hold your horses! Hold your...

Where is he? Where is the little turd?

Hey, no need for name calling, Harry.

I should never have fucking listened to you.

You and your stupid fuckin' schemes.

Harry, it wasn't my fault.

Matt reckons close to a dozen jacks turned up at Stokes's.

And I think he drew them there.

And how do you reckon that, Leslie?

Well, he's a thug, Harry. Stomps along like Jack the Ripper.

Any cop in town would know that he was up to no good,

but he was your choice, so...

Anyway, look, I'm glad you're here,

because I need to know that we can depend on him, right?

You know, with the jacks.

Are you saying that I would have

a filthy dog working for me?

No, I'm saying that for all we know,

he's in there fizgigged

and putting you and me in it right now.

Matt knows how to keep his gob locked, Les.

What bothers me is this.

You see, it says that 1,435 quid's worth of rings

was taken from Kilpatrick's.

But when the jacks nabbed Matt and Stokes,

they only had 300 quid's worth.

Well, that leaves over £1,000 worth of sparklers missing.

- Where have they got to? - I don't know.

Maybe their report's wrong, Harry. Hey?

Or Kilpatrick's are running an insurance scam, eh?

- Upping their losses. - No, no, no, I don't think so.

You see, I think that someone has dudded me.

- Dudded ya? - Yes, dudded me.

And I know who.

Henry fucking Stokes!

Yeah, well, what makes you think it's him?

Because he is the only prick that I know

who has got the sly, calculating brain

capable enough of coming up with a scheme like this!

I'm tellin' you, Les, if Matt goes down,

I am gonna find Stokes, I am going to cut off his head

and I am going to shit down his neck!

OK, well, we'll sort it out, hey, Harry?

You just relax, hey? Take a seat.

Bunny. You're making me nervous, mate.

- Come on, Doll. Make 'em a brew. - Cup of tea?

Cup of tea would be great, Doll. Thank you very much.

Well, have a seat. Have a seat, everyone.

Squizzy Taylor had learned a thing or two

about the court process during his murder trial.

He'd discovered that as part of full disclosure,

jury members' names and addresses

were posted for all to see.

A few quid to the right jurymen

and Stokes's and Daly's chances of acquittal

looked a whole lot brighter.

Hopefully, all the bad blood his scheming had caused

would soon be water under the bridge.

Mr Stokes, the police claim

when they arrived at your business premises,

they found rings stolen from Kilpatrick's

on your desk.

Mr Stokes, you said in your original statement to police

that at no time did Mr Daly offer

to sell you rings stolen from Kilpatrick's jeweller's.

Are you now saying he did offer you stolen property?

No, he never offered to sell them to me.

We find the defendant... not guilty.

Even though his man had been acquitted,

Long Harry was far from happy.

There was still the little matter of a missing £1,000.

Happy days, Doll, hey? All's well that ends well.

- You heard from Cutmore yet? - Uh, yeah.

He's got onto the best fence in Sydney,

some... sheila called Kate Leigh.

He's gonna be back any day now,

and our pockets will be that much richer.

Well, well, well. Stokes the thief with his pet rat.

Be careful. You might catch fleas.

Hold him.

You can hear me good and clear, can ya?

Listen up. You ain't welcome in Fitzroy no more, Squizzy.

Your good mate over there neither.

No-one that you work for. No-one who works for you.

Fitzroy, Carlton, Collingwood, it's all my territory.

If I see any of youse north of Victoria Street,

I will kill ya.

Hey, Les. Les! What do you reckon?

As a seamstress, do I make a good prossie?

Oh, I forgot to tell ya.

I got a card from Tankbuster, all the way from France.

He looks handsome, doesn't he?

"Dear Dolly, Greetings from the land of frogs and garlic,

"though I haven't seen neither of them,

"just mud and more mud."

You can read it later. Let's, um...

Let's do something fun, Les. Let's go to the pictures.

The only thing I feel like doing is kicking the shit

out of Long Harry's fat head.

He really said we weren't to go to Fitzroy anymore?

And I'll return the favour.

I'll slit his throat if he comes down here.

You know what I reckon?

If you went and saw Harry,

bought him a beer, everything would sort out.

Let's just nip it in the bud

before someone really gets hurt.

- Before someone gets hurt? - Well...

He almost split me skull, Doll.

- You brought that on yourself. - Brought it on meself?

Playing people off against each other.

Doublecrossing, triplecrossing.

You're always trying to prove you're smarter than everybody else,

and I don't know why - what's it all for?

I'll tell you what it's fuckin' for.

Where did this come from, hey? Hey? And this shit? Huh?

My mental schemes mean that you don't have to

spread your legs day and night, so don't piss on me parade

when you're happy enough to take the spoils.

All I'm saying is that someone has got to pull their head in.

Few days ago, there was none of this silly

"my territory, your territory".

- It was all just mates. - Mates?

Well, mates don't go kicking you in the head,

don't stab you in the back, hey?

Fuck you if that's your idea of being mates...

That's not what I meant! Les, where are you going?

Fuck you!

Hey, you're a bloody waste of time.

You don't do anything around here!

Loves me, ...

...loves me not.

So don't piss on me parade

when you're happy enough to take the spoils.

You know what I reckon?

If you went and saw Harry, bought him a beer,

everything would sort out.

It would - let's just nip this in the bud

before someone really gets hurt.

- What do you want, Doll? - Whisky.

Whisky would be nice.

Look, I know what happened between you and Les...

didn't go according to plan.

And, look, look, but the way I think of it

is that nobody's lost an eye,

and you've given out payback to... good payback,

him and Henry Stokes, and...

Well, there's no more need

for any of this bad blood that's between us.

Dolly?

Come and have a drink with me.

Help!

Oh. Thanks, Ma.

Hope you destroyed the horse.

- What horse? - The horse that kicked you.

- Oh. Nah, not yet. - Well, you should, Les.

Animal that's gone rogue.

Can't be safe to have round the stables.

Better to be safe than sorry, I say.

Well...

Who'd have thought a bookie's clerk

would be such a dangerous job?

- Top-up? - Mmm. Yeah.

Let me read your leaves first.

- Ma, come on. - Now, now, Leslie.

You know I got the gift from your gran.

Well, you see the same thing for me every time.

Wedding bells and confetti.

I just read what the leaves say.

A lady.

Bowl me over with a feather.

Oh, she's a special one alright.

She's kind, considerate.

Yeah, she's got her head screwed on alright.

Plenty of common sense.

She's brave too.

And loyal.

She'll stand by you in a hurricane.

Ooh, and see this little piece here?

Means she's got a heart made for loving.

You know, she sounds like the perfect girl.

Oh, she is. The leaves never lie.

Well, won't it be wonderful when you finally meet her?

Doll? Doll.

Hey, I'm really sorry about what I said before, eh?

I was a real prick, and I know that.

For me? Oh, Les, you shouldn't have.

G'day, mate.

How are ya?

- Yeah, what happened to you? - Oh, it doesn't matter.

- How was the Harbour City? - Oh, a shithole.

- It's too bloody hot. - I know.

And you do alright with the Kilpatrick's bits and bobs?

- Oh, you bet I did. - Good man.

Got over £400 in me kit.

400? Mate! Where's Doll?

- She asleep, is she? - Nah, she's not here.

Well, I let meself in.

Yeah.

Oi, Taylor!

Oh, Doll!

Doll, come... come... Come here. Oh!

What happened? What happened?

Shh, shh, shh. What happened?

Hey, what happened? Who did this?

Huh? Who did this to you? Dolly.

It's alright. Did you go to Fitzroy, Doll?