Original subtitles

That's where you fall down, Marty.

There's no such thing as mates.

Not in this game.

You'll get your cat and your money back.

I better.

What's this?

Money.

The rest. Two hundred and fifty grand.

My smack!

Those bloody Thai bastards double-crossed me.

All my money.

For a pile of sugar!

We're gonna need to cut this down for the buggers.

Are you fucking crazy?

This is supposed to be ultra-primo.

And ten kg's, not one.

Go away! Do what I tell you, Andy.

- It wasn't Marty's fault... - Do you think I sent

Freddie here to pass the time or pass on instructions?

See, the UK is mine now.

It can be yours, too, if you want.

Your bridges, old son, are burned.

Now we build them by selling Marty down the river?

I've told you "no".

I won't do it.

So, you go down with him.

It's your choice. All yours.

Ah, yeah. The body count was way up.

And it looked like Marty was next in line.

Marty!

Thank God.

- You bring the money? - Of course.

Are you OK?

Better with this, babe. I'm selling it out.

It'll be fine.

You got balls staying here.

Was me, I'd be sayonara, arrivederci.

Multi-lingual, are we, mate?

Do you understand the meaning of "where are my bloody buda sticks?"?

Big step backwards to maryjane.

I don't need to pretend.

I need to play, dog.

It's your money,

you could buy, say...

twenty thousands sticks.

You got to be kidding me.

This I can do.

OK. OK.

Three thousand sticks.

What's this?

It's half. Half now, half on delivery.

I've been ripped off by those bastards once already.

Gary Majors would have been better off staying in Oz.

He was trying to get back there when we picked him up.

Hello, Gary.

Parker!

Settle down.

Behave yourself.

Still haven't learned, have I?

You're digging your grave deeper.

Yeah, sure.

As far as we were concerned,

he was a suspect in the Wilson murders

across the ditch.

And we were going to squeeze him...hard!

You holding your breath?

Come on, we got a shot at him.

We have three fists of butter oil.

She was right, of course.

We squoozed,

but he made bail anyway.

And he got his chance to state his case in the papers, too.

It's like...You know, I had nothing to do with the Wilson murder.

So, I didn't even know about the death of Greg Ollard.

I have no knowledge of any other murders or...

or drug dealing, in this case, you know.

Yes, defiance is the

first resort of the stupid.

So...you know...the victims have my sympathies.

Ours, too.

But, in spite of all the arrests,

there were more bodies landing on the slab every day.

A slab built out of number one grade heroin.

But Marty was out of that game, for now.

He was chasing his ass around Asia,

trying to score buda sticks again.

I've never been so scared in my life.

You forget they carry guns here.

Singapore cops,

not exactly friendly British bobby, are they.

No!

We're though now, angel.

It's done.

Back in business.

Andy thinks he's got a buyer in New Zealand,

Andy had a buyer in New Zealand for just a few thousand Thai sticks?

How the mighty had fallen.

Pretty impressed me on this one, mate.

I had to ask for peanuts.

Good.

We need it.

Case on the gear again.

We started off on peanuts before, hey Charlie Brown?

Ooooh, a gentleman.

See that, Andy? That's called manners.

This is your other buyer?

You wanta move fast, Ari's on the game here.

So I come over, pull a couple of favors...

Ari's not going do us any favors, believe me.

I won't be needing you anymore.

That's where you're wrong.

I was the one employing you.

Marty!

Andy!

Oh, and gorgeous.

Julie.

How are you.

Nice to meet you, darling.

We OK to talk business in front of your little lady, here?

Jules, why don't you get us a round.

Mine's cognac.

She's cool, you know.

I'd imagine she's pretty hot.

So...Ari...

Can you zone shipment?

Down to business.

You haven't continued off-loading here.

In Singapore?

We'd be lucky to get back what we paid.

So...what have you got to offer?

Not a lot, unfortunately.

I...been making some inquiries on your behalf, but...

It's really down to shipping opportunities.

Those dogs they got running around airports, they can be a real nuisance, especially with pot.

So, for sticks, it's back to the shipping lane.

I heard of a boat called the "Ned Lloyd", but...

it could take a while.

And, ah...Andy here says you want to ship this stuff ????.

I don't want to hang around too long.

We'll risk the dogs, I reckon.

At a bigger airport.

I could take some sticks back to UK,

see how they go.

Oh, it'll go...it felt great...primo.

Bloody hell.

Shit!

It's OK.

I don't know how all this import-export business works.

Are things really bad?

Put it this way.

Your six million dollar man...

just lost five and a half.

Yeah, it's bad.

So, this...

doesn't happen to me.

You're on the next plane out of here, then?

I'm not going anywhere.

But Marty was...even if he didn't know it yet.

Terry Clark was pushing Andy

to lure his mate away from his safe haven of Singapore.

The first step was to get him

interested in a major deal in...

Scotland.

Aye.

It's a great market, especially Glasgow, being an executive order.

- It's still on through Heathrow, though. - Yeah. Of course.

OK.

Good.

Andy was getting a team together, for sure.

but they weren't your average couriers.

Aye.

Billy Kirby just about had an underworld

patent on false-bottom suitcases.

Well, are we looking...

And Jimmy Smith was a Keltan lad.

Keltan made the Goebbels look like Miss Brody's sunday school.

Get those active ATR's off my couch, Jimmy Smith.

Glory Hand, they're called.

Don't know what it is, it's fish.

Not that wee Jimmy would know what sunday school was.

So...how come we're doing this?

Isn't Marty supposed to be your mate?

Leave it, Billy.

Mate or not, he's fucked up, big time.

- In all the months. - Aye.

Yeah...Andy's got...people unpaid.

Couriers on the missin' list. His UK reputation's down the shitter.

People on three continents howling for blood.

Looks like they're going to get it.

That's fucking dreadful. Where'd you get that?

For Christ's sake, Jimmy!

Bleeding Ritz's dining room. Where do you think?

Come on, Billy. We can get something decent on the pub,

if we shake it before they close the hatch.

- We done here? - Aye.

Call you when it's a go.

Bring everything around here when you're done.

And make sure you spread the purchases around.

Yeah, yeah.

We can kill a chippie on the way to greasy shite.

Let's go then.

You've bloody picked that cousin, you have.

He's right...

it's disgusting.

No, you're feeling queasy for other reasons.

He that was called Judas...

went before them and drew near onto Jesus to kiss him.

It's funny, the things you remember.

Under Singapore's extradition act of '68,

it appears that the minister does have discretion

to vary the third schedule,

namely, territories with which extradition arrangements pertain.

And you got that opinion off your own vest, did you?

Yes. And at my own cost.

And did your international law friend tell you that it's never been done?

That Singapore's only extradition arrangements are with Hong Kong.

Penny for your thoughts.

Just thinking about this new textbook.

You mean drug run.

They've told me about the business.

Andy's got the couriers all set up.

Be out of the woods, then.

Back on the champagne, heh?

We can make names for ourselves in this town.

We'll be somebodies.

It was all a big adventure at first.

A game.

And give the cops a runaround.

And people like "Diamond" Jim.

Boys.

All skilled bastards.

We figured we'd show them how fresh we were.

Get it real tight.

Greg?

I'm not stupid.

I know where it'll turn to shit.

How about this...for the captain.

How'd we go?

Solicitor General's on side, but he can't really see it happening.

I reackon we've got a better shot

if we get on a plane to Singer's ourselves

and invite the prick back for a holiday.

This is stuffed.

No.

It's all falling apart for these pricks.

I reckon we'll have this all wrapped up by Christmas.

Marty wouldn't have agreed.

New staff.

Won't happen again.

You know what I'm going to do, Jules?

Deal in fish, birds, exotic pets, pots, furniture.

Okay. And just a bit of sniff for the bundlers to keep up with the mission pay.

Staff,

needs to be paid.

They know I'll give them money.

Talk to them.

Wages are only temporarily deferred until we fix our cash flow.

And?

A couple of weeks, tops.

We're all organized in the UK again.

OK.

Good.

Now the kids really like it up here.

The beach, school.

It's lovely, but

my job is in Auckland, Max.

Mine's whereever I want it to be...

and need it to be.

- I'm asking you to think about it. - Why do you have to do this?

- I'm just asking you to think about... - I come up here to get away from this pressure.

Really?

I thought you came up here to be with your family...

- Oh, you know what I mean. - And I...

the cops ARE your family as well, right?

Especially Ben.

Not even gonna deny it?

While Marty was waiting for the deal to fall into place,

Andy was treading water.

Hoping it would all go away.

But Marty was right on the edge.

And he couldn't wait any longer.

Shit!

Yeah?

That was quick. You up.

Yeah.

So's little Marti now.

Ah, sorry.

What time is it over there?

You still can't work it out?

It's late.

Just got to see how things were going. Hadn't heard anything.

Just cause it's night.

Ah, Fuck.

Nothing we can't square out with the guy in Glasgow.

He wants a face-to-face to discuss details.

So get your wee bum to Glaskie.

Not with me.

- With you. - What?

So, I have to shift my ass all the way over there and...

I know, it's a pain. I know.

So give him an earful. Now, go to sleep, now.

I've got a major advance on the next shipment

if you can persuade this numbnut of a few simple facts.

How much of an advance?

Fifty percent.

There's some interest in "H" down the track, too.

OK.

But I'm bringing Julie. She can visit her ma.

Fair enough.

And I get reimbursed for the fucking tickets via your dime, Andy.

I'll make sure they understand.

I'm clear with flight ????.

Anything happens while I'm away,

I want to know about it.

Any screwups...down to you, OK?

Have a good trip, mate.

Safety filed off.

Serial numbers, too.

????, mate.

Where do ya have to get at...

Don't worry about it.

Going up to landing.

Al?

Sinclair's got it covered.

You're my chauffeur?

He can't bloody suffer.

Uh-huh. And the chauffeur's got a bloody daughter.

Sweet young thing.

Butter wouldn't melt.

What's up?

It's Terry.

Who did you think was gonna do it?

He wants me to do that.

Like it's a fuckin' test or something.

I can't do it, Deb.

Andy,

Marti's asleep in her cot.

She needs to be safe. So do I.

I know that.

I know.

You get through this...

and you just think what it means.

We'll all be fine.

We'll...take off to Singapore.

Have a good time.

You deserve it.

He won't let Chinese Jack?

What's he gonna do to us?

You've carried Marty for too long,

You've fixed things up too many times.

It's all gone to shit, Andy.

She was a mother.

She'd do anything to protect her child.

???? be fine.

I'm a glass man. Here you go.

It's a lovely spot.

Yeah...quiet.

No one's fired bullets at the house in ages.

Carole's been pretty quiet, too. I won...

It seems to me, Ben,

you take a pretty personal interest in her well-being.

And driving all the way up here on your day off,

sitting outside our place in your car

after a little run in with your drug dealer friend.

The answer to the question that you're asking is "no".

There's nothing going on.

I'm sorry. I, ah... You're drunk.

She loves those kids...

and you...

more than anything.

Not more than the job, though.

You have to understand, it's not about you...

or the kids.

It's about the job

being so consuming.

It's like a bloody disease, Max.

And believe me, she really wishes she didn't have it.

As soon as we shut this thing down, you need to be there.

Just this one thing.

Welcome!

When they finally got to England,

all Marty and Julie had

between them was two hundred quid.

Drink up.

Not that you could tell.

Your mom's so excited about seeing you.

We'll go over tomorrow.

Oh, we got to go back into London tomorrow.

Business, right?

Yeah.

Have they got bedrooms in Glasgow?

He's promised me a night in a flash London hotel.

Oh?

Might want to sort some stuff out with Leila and Freddie before we head north, so.

There's nothing to sort out.

What're you doing here?

Haven't you told him?

No, I've...

Told me what?

Too many fuckups.

Too much blood under the bridge. We're done dealing with you.

Look! I know there's been problems.

We're dealing with some tough nuts

in Asia, but I'm putting new security measures in place.

Is that right?

Yes!

Now, we've got a major deal going down in Glasgow.

Once that's cleared away,

it's back to the main game

and I'll increase your cut by five percent.

You can't play fairer than that.

Five percent of frequently "Sardo" is "Sardo".

Tell him.

I don't think we can do business anymore, Marty.

Let's just forget this whole Glasgow thing. Just...Just let it go.

Nobody wears whine suits to God.

I'm...I'm getting out anyway. I'm done.

I got a baby to think about.

That's what he said?

And why didn't he tell me before?

Leave me hanging out to dry like that.

Well, he hasn't pulled out.

No, I've done some persuading, but he

still reckons this is his last deal.

If he decided to quit, why didn't he tell me?

Well...

at least I got some shoppin' in.

Who cares?

This is nice.

Do you know how long we've been partners?

Over five years.

He cut me down in front of...just like that

If Marty knew what was to come...

he might have let Julie blow everything

on the shopping.

And if I'd known how pissed off Carole was goin' be,

I might have pulled my head in.

You had no bloody right.

Maybe not.

My family is my business.

I guess I just got tired of seeing you stressed out and miserable.

If it starts affecting my work, fine,

feel free to say something. Otherwise, butt out!

Need an icepack for the goanies?

She'll be alright.

She's one of those "when does friendly concern become interferring" moments.

And the loyal dog get kicked the hardest, Confucius say.

You heard about that extradition thing yet?

Yes, the Solicitor General did his best, but it's not going to happen.

What'd you expect?

I expect to go out and get pissed.

There is one other possibility.

It's a bit more than loose change,

but I reckon if one of us was to take a short holiday to Singapore

we might be able to stir things up there with our colleagues...

No, Ben. Not gonna happen.

If they want to give that prick a free run, fine.

Done everything we can.

- Say hello to your mum for me. - OK.

I love you.

Yeah?

Me, too.

I love you.

Come on, you pair.

You've had a night of passion, didn't you?

Can I get a kiss?

I mean a real one.

Call you from Glasgow, hon.

Funny how this went.

I miss you.

Hasta la vista.

We off?

Soon. Just waiting on a spare for the jack.

My cousin's bringing it over.

Alright. I'll speak with your dad.

Things are coming to a head at work.

Here, too, huh?

You mean because of what Ben said.

I don't know, you tell me.

Jimmy...Smith.

So you're a ???? Keltan, are you?

Ah, something like that.

So, what's the problem with the deal up there?

- Well... - We can talk about it in Glasgow.

No point in sackin' on info.

- Hey, Jimmy? - Guess not.

Just a foot soldier today...a weekend.

We all set, then?

Let's hit the road.

I'll ride in the back. I know me place.

This one got the market.

Um. Lovely.

They're gorgeous.

You have any?

Say I'm a bit strung out.

Yeah, it's just...

Baby Marti.

- Yeah. - Not getting my sleep, you know.

You OK?

- Yep? - Got this headache.

You alright?

Just at tad...

Don't know these roads too well.

Want to drive for a bit?

Sure.

Where am I to go?

Anyway,

Jag...it's another magic castle, mate.

Won't one do ya?

In Singapore, yeah.

Marty party's big time...

Give 'em another!

Andy!...Give 'em another!

Andy!!

Stop, Mick!

Shit!

Shit!

Jesus.

Oh, what?

Jesus. Make him stop.

Shit!

Stop your fucking grievin'!

If you'd picked a more sensible place to do him, we could've been back by now.

- Please... - He's fuckin' dead. Nobody's supposed to... Get him in the fuckin' car.

Go! Fuckin' go!

Fuck's sake!

Hello?

Is it Marty?

It's me.

- Is she onto us or...? - No, no.

Tell her Marty's in a meeting. It's gonna be late.

Let me talk to him.

It's Andy. Marty's in a meeting. He'll call you tomorrow.

Everything goin' to plan?

Just make sure she's asleep.

I'll be back soon.

Finish things.

Guts.

We want him to sink like a turd.

Not bob arbout like a fuckin' apple.

There's limits, man. I'm not a fuckin' dentist.

No more best friend, chewsy face.

Best mates. Always will be, right...right?

Moderation in all things, Andy, my son.

What idiots we are.

How heavy was that?

No bloody stallin' for you, heh?

Don't forget your money.

Aye.

Four grand. Night's work. Not bad.

A flooded quarry called Eagleston Dell...

seemed like an ideal spot to get rid of the body.

A couple of days later...

and Deb had whisked Julie away

to sunny Benadorne

to soak up the Spanish rays.

Maher had phoned en route to chilly Scotland

to tell them Marty had been called to New York on business.

He also called his new boss

to tell him the business was done.

Good.

- No problems? - No.

Even better.

- Bring me a souvenir. - What?

You use your imagination.

You kept his rings, right?

- Marty's. - Aye.

Prick'd like for us to send it to him.

Go.

Good morning.

You're early.

Just got back from Opua.

Peace offering.

- How'd it go? - Hmm.

Well, we brokered a kind of agreement.

Once this is all wrapped up, I'm...

gonna spend some time up there.

Sounds like an idea.

Yeah.

I wonder whose.

From that point on, things moved pretty fast.

Andy had taken off for Singapore to tie up any loose ends when...

young Jeffrey Ashcroft's SCUBA training dive

turned very nasty.

Seems Marty's body had too many ropes.

One of them had caught on a pipe.

He may not have bobbed up like an apple,

but he hadn't sunk like a turd, either.

I understand it to be an adult male...

Then, Julie finally read the newspaper.

The handless, ravaged corpse that had been dragged dripping from the dell,

was the subject of a major murder enquiry in Chorley, Lancashire...

and also international news.

What have you done?

- What's Andy done? - Nothing. - Look...Deb.

Nothing, Jules.

Deb.

- Deb. - It's nothin'.

You tell me what he's done. Or...

I'll call Rhinsted,

and I'll start calling England

right now and I'll start asking

some one who will tell me.

It's Marty... Isn't it.

He's dead... Isn't he?

Well, just tell me.

Julie's asking questions. She knows.

So convince her she's wrong.

I'll phone Jimmy, tell him to disappear the Jag.

You can do that already?

I'll for the bet fuckin' bury you, Deb.

Burn.

Do it proper.

How did this fuck us?

She says she's going back and she'll talk.

So persuade her different.

I'm here, you're there. Handle it!

Give her some money, whatever it takes.

She loved him.

This is trouble, ????.

She's in love with him.

Damn you.

Deb's conscience eventually got the better of her.

She told Julie the truth.

- Fuck! - All of it.

What're you staring at?

Burn these files, everything.

Little fishies now.

Little...dead...fishies.

Fuck you, Jack.

We're wiping this slate clean.

I'm running things now.

I'm Terry's main man here.

You ask him, he'll tell you that that's me.

You go back to England now.

Sounds like your woman needs you there.

And here...

you are nothing.

You alright, love?

Yes.

Is this your boyfriend?

Around his neck.

Aye.

He was wearing that.

We've left it...

in situ.

That's him.

We need you to say his name, love.

It's Marty...Johnstone.

Alright.

OK. There's good news...

and there's bad news.

Yeah? We got a new boss for detectives?

No way. Shit!

Ah, better.

The good news is Command has approved a trip to Singapore.

Far out.

And the bad news.

Marty Johnstone's not there.

He's been murdered...

in England.

Well, that's one way of ducking an investigation.

Get yourself bumped off.

Well, we can finally print his name, I guess.

Well, it's a pity he's dead.

I would have loved for him to see it.

Mr. Asia...Christopher Martin Johnstone.

- You fuckin' killed him, didn't ya? - I never killed him!

I almost died myself...with shock.

Who did kill him, then?

Andy.

How did he do it?

He shot him...in the head.

From the beginning.

Andy had to kill Marty

or else he might have been next.

He'd kill me...if he could hear me now.

Andy gave up Alexander Sinclair,

who'd be arrested and charged with conspiracy.

And then, once we weighed in,

a whole lot of other things, as well.

You must be gutted.

You finally get your ducks in a row and get closer to Marty,

and this Alexander Sinclair bloke bumps him.

Before you can snap him up... Quack, quack.

You said you wanted to "quote" draw my attention to something.

You don't mind if I quote you, do you?

The house, up the beach in Osworth...

you were right.

Qualifies for confiscation under the Proceeds of Crime legislation.

It belongs to Terry Clark.

I told you that...so?

So, why don't you check out the paperwork again?

And check out Alexander Sinclair's other aliases.

You mean like Seamon Harry?

Same as on the paperwork.

Terry Clark's wife's name.

We already put that together.

Alexander Sinclair is Terry Clark.

You think Command will authorize an international phone call for this one?

What, tell the palms they have in their custody not

just a murderer,

but a multi-murderer and an international drug dealer?

I sincerely hope so.

Chalk one up for the good guys.

Way to go.

- Congrats, mate. - You, too.

He told the palms?

And they're very grateful.

It's a real coup for the task force.

So, of course, Command won a bite of the cherry.

I've been ordered to fly over to England...

to assist with the enquiry.

Got you, at least.

You could call it a strange irony, I suppose.

In ripping off the organization, Marty had signed his own death warrant.

And in doing that, he signed Terry Clark's as well.

Where Greg Ollard, mate?

Where'd you put Greg Ollard's body. Where'd you put Julie Fieldman's body?

The long-life symbol

on the chain around his neck

was a key element in Marty Johnstone's identification.

Andy's evidence was a key element in Terry's conviction,

served up, perhaps, with just a pinch of revenge.

The old saying applied to them both.

With friends like that...who needs enemies?

Terry went down for conspiracy in Marty's murder

and died in jail in August 1983,

supposedly of a heart attack.

None of us believed that's the way it went down.

But who knows?

Carole moved to Opua to be with Max,

and they soon ditched the "de facto" tag.

She joined CI out there.

Still the odd bit of excitement, but

all close to home.

The kids needed their mum.

This was a coming-of-age story.

It was also a story about betrayal

and about loyalty.

Andy Maher died of cancer, aged 57,

on March the 18th, 2011...

after serving a life sentence for the murder of his best mate.

In the end, for Marty and Andy and Terry,

it had all disappeared...

like bubbles in champagne.

Me?

I'd stayed in the job, kept plugging away.

So had the gangs.

Drugs had become an ugly fact of life

in the Land of the Long Green Cloud.

We got 'em. Go!

Two years after Marty's death, we finally got those listening powers.

The syndicate had generated a whole lot of changes in the law.

Warranted phone tapping, covert surveillance, search and seizure.

Specialist drug units were set up.

Customs got more manpower.

And the courts got more teeth.

There were even two Royal Commissions

into drug trafficking in New Zealand and Australia.

Gotta love that.

You...are under arrest.

And maybe...in a small way...

we had Marty Johnstone to thank for all of it.

Bugger him.

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