All language subtitles for City Homicide s03e07 Little Big Man.eng

♪ Steady my shaky hands

♪ Shut out the world's demands

♪ Just get the facts down

♪ Do you understand

♪ That this is a foreign land?

♪ So try to understand now

♪ Do you understand?

♪ Do you understand?

♪ If this is what it feels to love,
then, I can feel that

♪ If this is what it feels to love,
then, I can feel that

♪ If this is what it feels to love,
then, I can feel that

♪ If this is what it feels to love,
then, I can feel that

♪ Even when you're all alone

♪ Even when it's not your home... ♪

Tommy! Come on!

Boots on, mate.

..fatal head trauma.

Once Crime Scene get out,
I'll know more.

The bottle's not gonna smile
for the camera, is it, Pete?

How many shots do you need?

We thank you.

Teresa and Tommy ride every morning
at daybreak.

We ride in pairs
in case of accidents.

Where would he
have got the gun?

Mine. Licensed. Use it for vermin.

Heavy-duty gun for rats.

Yeah. Got another rifle
out at the stud.

Use them for foxes,
feral cats, whatever.

Well, we're not out there,
though, are we?

Was Mr Masters a drinker?
Oh, a bit.

Not since he came back from
Hong Kong. He was on the wagon.

It looks like he fell off.
No.

I know Tommy. If he made his mind up
to do something, he did it.

Suicide included?

I meant not drinking.

And he'd never kill himself either.

Grandad.

Well, he...he's been pretty down
in the dumps, Tess,

since his suspension.

He didn't kill himself.

G'day, Ronnie.
Hey.

Last time to the scales.

He'd be 55 kilos wringing wet,
I reckon. Little fella.

He was a jockey.
Yeah, helium balloons.

I'd like to say a big
thank you to all the connections.

What makes you think
it was murder?

Oh, three things.

Plenty of whisky
in the stomach contents

but the alcohol reading
was quite low in his bloodstream.

Which means?

Which means he drank the contents
of that bottle in about five minutes

immediately before he died.

If he wanted to get drunk
and rack up Dutch courage,

he didn't give it enough time
to kick in.

You think he was force-fed the booze?
Quite possibly, yes.

There's bruising on his lips
and the inside of the mouth

that support that idea too.

And number three?

The interesting question -

why would you put your hand over
the end of the barrel of a rifle

before you shot yourself?

That is a good question.

I think wee Tommy here
was trying to send us a message.

He shot himself under duress.
This was a coerced suicide.

That's murder.

So place your bets -
who wanted him dead?

Hey!

What are you doing?
Nothing.

That's a crime scene.
What are you doing inside?

I wasn't inside.
You were.

OK, prove it.

OK, Miss...Stairmont,
I'm taking you in for an interview.

What's going on?

We have a warrant, sir,
to search the premises.

I don't care about
your flamin' warrant.

You can search all you like.

What are you doing with Teresa?
Taking her in for questioning.

What for?
This is a murder investigation.

And as your granddaughter
pointed out yesterday,

Tommy Masters didn't kill himself.

We're trying to find out who did.
She knows nothing about this.

Grandad...
Do you?

I'll make a statement.
Just leave her out of it.

You should both come with us.
Yeah.

You can't do this.
Uh, yes, we can.

If you wanna check,call a lawyer.

Sir, after you.

Just ask your questions.

OK, why were you in Tommy's rooms?
I wasn't.

Teresa, this isn't a game.

What were you looking for in there?
Nothing.

You seem pretty sure
it wasn't suicide.

Because Tommy wouldn't pike out
like that. He wasn't a quitter.

Besides, if...

What?

If Tommy had wanted to kill himself,
he'd never have used that rifle.

Why not?

It was the gun he used
to put Ginger Mae down.

Ginger Mae?
His horse.

She'd broken her leg.

He got suspended about a month after
he had to shoot her.

Why was Tommy Masters
banned?

They said he threw the race.
"Not riding to capacity."

Didn't give his horse
a fair chance to win.

And they can prove that?

According to the evidence,

Tommy deliberately rode his mount
between two horses,

made no effort to get out.

To make matters worse,
he didn't ride hard to the finish -

just jogged across the line.

Sounds like
an open-and-shut case.

It was rubbish.

I felt sorry for him, OK?

You get banned,
you're not even supposed to go near

a racehorse or working stables.

I gave him a bed
and track work.

They could pull your licence
for that.

I know.

And now they're dragging Teresa
into it. She's just a kid.

I'm 22. Tommy was twice my age.
But...

But you had a crush on him.

Ever since I can remember,
I wanted to be a jockey.

Be like Tommy.

So you looked up to him and then
it turned into something else?

I'd written him this letter
a few weeks ago

telling him I loved him.

Stupid. Like some kind
of schoolgirl.

Did your grandfather know about it?

No way! He'd never understand.

Did you sleep with Tommy?
No!

So you told him you loved him
and he ignored it.

He was sweet about it.

He said I should find myself
someone younger,

somebody over four foot tall.

And he kept the letter.

I didn't want it coming out.
I went in there to get it - that's all.

I just found it when you turned up.

Thank you.

Do you know how your granddaughter
felt about Tommy Masters?

Why?
She told him she loved him.

No, that's rubbish.

Wrote him a love letter.
She wouldn't do that.

Did you find the letter
and confront Tommy?

No.

You thought Tommy had taken
advantage of the situation, didn't you?

So you decided to put an end
to the relationship.

Didn't know anything
about a relationship.

By killing Tommy Masters.

No!

There was no relationship.
Teresa's a good girl.

Tommy - you trusted him too?

Tommy's a hoop.
A hoop?

A jockey.

Just one of the lads.

But he'd know better than
to mess with Teresa.

That'd be biting the hand
that fed him, wouldn't it?

Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly
what I'm thinking.

Love and protectiveness -
pretty good motives.

No joy at Tommy's.

No sign of any other alcohol
at the place either.

Just the bottle in the vehicle.
No prints. Wiped.

What about the gun?

The serial number on the rifle
checks out. It belongs to Ray.

I reckon he's worth a closer look.
Alright.

Well, I'll run some
background checks on him.

Phone records -
Tommy Masters's mobile.

He made three calls to the same number
just before he was killed.

Two five-second calls -
possible hang-ups.

And then one three-minute call.
Who to?

A bloke called Shane Walton,
chief steward at the racing federation.

Steward? Like a waiter?

Like an umpire, looking for cheats.

They're the ones that suspended
Tommy in the first place.

So why would Tommy call him?

Y es, uh, it's an important job.

Me and my colleagues
all get carefully vetted,

have to be above reproach, all that.

Yeah, I'm sure.

Especially given the game you're in.

So tell us about Tommy Masters,
for instance.

Ah, poor little bugger.

Fallen star.
Not good for any industry.

Tommy called you recently?

Y-yes. I hung up in his ear.

Not the third time.

Yesterday.
You spoke to him then.

What was the call about?

Uh, well, he was just trying to
get back in the game, that's all.

By talking to you.
Did he have some new evidence?

No, he was babbling.

What about?

Oh, you know, injustice, his career.
Babbling.

Tell me, why would Tommy even think
that he could get back in the game?

A suspension's a suspension,
isn't it?

Look, I've got no idea
what he thought, mate.

Why don't you ask him?
Oh, we would, except he's dead.

Can you think of anyone
who might want Tommy Masters killed?

Killed?

I thought you meant
he killed himself.

Well, he was pretty desperate
when he rung me.

Did he regard you as an enemy?
You suspended him.

A whole committee of stewards
suspended him, not just me.

So what happened?

Tommy pulled his horse up.
He didn't give it a chance to win.

You can't do that.

Why would he do it?

We presume he was paid off
by a person or persons unknown.

Our stewards inquiry never came up
with any evidence or any money

but...Tommy wouldn't talk.

He just copped it sweet.

The trainer of the horse that Tommy
pulled up, was he suspended too?

No, Leo was cleared of
any involvement.

Leo?
Leo Moss.

They call him Leo the Lion.

In fact, he was ropeable
at the time.

He had to be physically restrained
in the weighing room. He...

He what?

He told Tommy he'd never ride again.

He threatened to kill him.

Leo the Lion!
What are you looking at him for?

Possible involvement
in an investigation.

I've been locked up with the review
board all morning. I miss something?

It'll be on your desk, sir.
Tommy Masters.

He's a jockey. He's dead.

Tommy the Terrier bought it?

Terrier as well as a lion.

Go an interest in racing, sir?

I've lost more money on the ponies
than you've had cold salads, darl.

How did he die?
It was made to look like suicide.

Ate his gun.
Where?

Stairmont Stables.

Crikey! Tommy the Terrier!

200 Group 1 winners, two Cups.

And a two-year suspension.

Despite lack of evidence
of any bribery money.

Did you talk to the stipes?

We've had a conversation
with Shane Walton,

the chief stipendiary officer.

You need more than a conversation.
Sounds like Tommy got shafted.

No bribery money,
but he gets two years?

That doesn't sound right.

Joyner, in the morning,
you're with me.

Sir, isn't Superintendent Waverley
back tomorrow?

Not back till next week.
See you at sparrow's fart.

Better you than me.

Well, look who it is.

The track's most colourful
racing identity.

Max McKenzie.

This just got very interesting.

Well, well, well.
This is a pleasant surprise.

Leo Moss?
Who wants to know?

Oh, Leo, this is
Superintendent Jarvis and, um...

I don't recall the other gentleman.

Detective Joyner.

Bless you.

How are you, Superintendent?

What are you doing here, McKenzie?

Seeing a man about a horse.

Uh, later, Leo. Stay well.

Need to ask you a few questions.
A few questions?

Yeah, about Tommy Masters.
When was the last time you saw him?

When they dragged me off into
the weighing room the day of the race.

I guess I'll never have to see
that little turd ever again.

That was a while ago.
You sure it wasn't more recently?

Saw him in the paper this morning.

Bawled my eyes out.
Tommy Masters - dead.

Couldn't happen
to anyone more deserving.

So you believe he lost the race
deliberately.

Well, Look at the footage.
He threw the race.

Ah! He had a good reputation, Leo.

He had a couple of top rides
coming up at the time.

Good living.
He was on the take.

The little bastard cost me
and one of my owners a motza.

We had that horse backed
to the hilt, and he pulled her up.

Max McKenzie a friend of yours?
An acquaintance.

Owns a few horses. Bookmaker.

I'm well aware of what he is.

So who was Tommy
on the take from, then?

Well, don't ask me. The answer
to that's your problem, isn't it?

Well, unless we believe
in coincidences, we just solved it.

Because you can bet
your Fine Cotton socks

it was someone
who stood to gain plenty

from Tommy throwing that race.

Was it something I said?

Allergic to horses.

Our old mate,
Maxwell Patrick McKenzie.

We've taken a closer look

at the connections of
the winning horse in Tommy's race.

McKenzie's definitely a part-owner
but he keeps at arm's length.

When the horse won,
he got a sly 50%.

Sly 50%?

Yeah, the owners passed on

a share of their earnings to him
under the counter.

Helped him keep a low profile.

Well, the nag's
never done much since.

I should know. I've had money on it.

But I'd have more on Leo Moss
knowing about that fix.

Max McKenzie was at Leo's stable
this morning.

But Leo lost money on the race.

That's what the books say.

There's ways of losing money in one
area and stacking it up in another.

Tommy pulled Leo's horse up
so that Max's horse could win.

Well, maybe Leo was in on it
and maybe he got a big payout.

So Leo Moss moves up our list
of people to profile.

Well, he threatened
to kill the victim.

That's enough for a start.

A bit emotional for you, Si?

My lead detective is allergic
to the hay burners.

In case it gets a bit much for you.

How's the follow-up
on the Stairmonts?

Uh, Teresa just got
her apprenticeship.

Word is that Tommy was her mentor
against the old man's wishes.

'Mentor' - is that
what they call it?

What, you reckon
they were getting it on?

Could be.

Another possible motive.
No, don't waste your time there.

That's where we should be focusing.

McKenzie's a bookie, right?

He owns a few nags,
uh, has an interest,

but he makes his money
off the punters

and keeping a second set of books,
laundering drug money.

Where there's Max, there's muck.

Just ask Tony Meade.

McKenzie's last enforcer.

We had to put him away
for executing a photographer.

We thought we had Max too,
but Tony took the fall for him.

Now he's been replaced by
Dennis 'The Menace' Reece.

He's bigger and uglier than Tony
but not as bright.

An enforcer.

Well, maybe that's the reason why
there was no money involved.

Maybe Tommy got scared 'cause they
were asking him to throw the race.

His horse, Ginger Mae, it breaks
its leg, he has to put it down,

and then a few weeks later,
he throws the race.

You're saying it was "Do as you're told
or it's you next time"?

Nobbling the horse sounds like
McKenzie's MO to me.

That and the fact that
the stewards couldn't find anyone

who'd made money
out of Tommy's horse losing.

They didn't look very far.

No, he's involved.

Bribed officials, death threats,
dead horses.

Max McKenzie's up to his ears
in this

and he's not gonna get away from us
this time.

Race fixing?
You must be joking.

I wouldn't even know
how to go about it.

Tommy Masters was bribed,

or more likely,
forced to lose a race.

A race that your horse won.

Uh, yes, my fellow owners and l
did have a lucky win a while back

and, yes, there was an inquiry
and Tommy did get suspended,

but none of that
has anything to do with me.

What about his murder?

That have anything to do with you?
Murder? Well, well!

I heard that he was dead,

but the word around the traps
was that he killed himself.

He was murdered.
Well, that's shocking.

Isn't it, Dennis?
Shocking.

Why are you talking to me about it?

You know why we're talking to you.

I don't, but I'm sure
you're gonna tell me.

You really have got tickets
on yourself, haven't you, McKenzie?

Yeah, your posh house,
nice pool, flash cars.

Thank you very much,
and all legitimately come by.

Now, unless you have something
specific to discuss, Superintendent,

I suggest you leave.

You really would think he could
afford better help, wouldn't you?

Specifically, we know you were
involved with Tommy Masters's death.

This time we're gonna
hang it round your neck

if it's the last thing we do.

First part of that is slander,
Superintendent.

And the second part is
what's called a declared agenda.

You've decided to go after me
regardless of the facts,

which are I have never been so much
as looked at by the stewards.

Yeah, right.

Nor convicted of any crime.
Not yet.

So I suggest you leave

before you find either my lawyer
or Dennis's swimming instructor

breathing down your neck.

I'll happily take them both on.

Then I'll lock you up, McKenzie.

I wouldn't lay odds on that.

And I'm a betting man,
Superintendent.

You got a problem, Detective?

You're not worried about Max,
are you?

I just don't see what's to be gained

by tipping him off we're
investigating him, that's all.

Just rattling his cage.

No harm in giving him a scare,
reminding him we're not going away.

Dennis the Menace
won't need any reminding.

I'm sure he enjoyed his swim.

Joyner, don't let a runny nose
shrink your balls.

Pick up Ryan
and get back to Ray Stairmont's,

wave Dennis and Max's pictures
under some noses,

see if anyone's spotted them
around the place the last few days.

Did that annoy Jarvis?
What do you reckon?

Taking you off the case?
He can try.

I know this guy's face.

He's a bookmaker, isn't he?

Where do you know him from?
The track, not round here, though.

You've never seen him
with Tommy anywhere?

Not that I can remember.

Anyone else in there?

This one. Big guy, yeah?
Yeah, pretty big.

At the track too.

You think they had
something to do with killing Tommy?

We're just following up information
at this stage.

What are you two doing back here?
Haven't you asked enough questions?

We are trying to solve a murder.
Why would you object to that?

Go back to the stables.
I'm feeding out.

I don't care.
Go back and muck out the stalls.

I don't want you talking to her
about Max McKenzie.

If he's involved in this,
I want her kept well out of it.

You know more about this
than you're telling us.

No.
No?

Then why are you so worried
about your granddaughter?

I'll talk to you after we feed out,
but not here.

Tommy was approached
to pull a horse.

By Max McKenzie.

No. McKenzie's not stupid.

Tommy was approached
by another jockey,

a young bloke who rides for McKenzie
sometimes.

He's over in Dubai now.

Out of the way.

So what happened?

Well, Tommy said no.

Then Colin Weatherby,
that's this jockey,

starts coming across heavy,
mentioned a few nasty possibilities.

Tommy was scared but he raced
and got the win, anyway.

Yeah, Max McKenzie
wasn't happy about that.

Well, he had his bets in place.
He lost a lot of money.

Then, a few days later,
Ginger Mae's leg got broken.

We worked that out. No accident.

So then Tommy agreed
to do what they wanted?

No. Tommy went and fronted
that Dennis the Menace bloke.

Really? Dennis would've
crushed him with one hand.

Tommy was a fearless little bugger.

And what did Dennis say?

Well, Dennis denied any involvement.
Of course.

But he gave Tommy some advice.

Whoever did it, he said,
must've meant it as a warning.

Maybe it'd be people, next.
People close to him.

Then he inquired after
Teresa's health.

How do you know all this, Ray?

Tommy came to me,
asked me what he should do.

He told me the whole story
from go to whoa.

He'd...he'd heard from
the jockey again,

told him that if he pulled up
the next horse,

no-one would get hurt

and there would be a quiet 50 grand
for him to slip under his mattress.

And you didn't think
to call the police.

These are dangerous people.
You don't know what they're like.

What did you tell him to do, Ray?

I...I told him to do what they said.

You don't stand up
to people like that.

He...he was a great rider.

I thought he'd be clever enough
not to get caught.

He's fingered Max McKenzie.
You little ripper.

He won't go on record, though. He's
too worried about his granddaughter.

Hang on, it's a plausible story,
but it's still hearsay.

Ray could be spinning
his own line of bull.

I believe him.

You believe him because you want it
to be Max McKenzie, sir.

We checked Ray out.
There's no charges against him.

No, but he's fronted the stewards
a few times, known for his temper.

Once punched out a jockey
for overuse of the whip,

bashed an owner
for abusing a horse.

He's still a person of interest.

Except all those
sound like brain snaps.

This was cold, this was calculated -
forcing someone to kill themselves.

A different kind of brain snap
might be on the cards

when it comes to his granddaughter.

No, this has got Max McKenzie
embroidered all over it.

What we need now is proof,
not just hearsay, right, Joyner?

I've got another angle.

The antihistamines finally kicked in?

Why the delay between Tommy
throwing that race and his murder?

Tommy had done what they asked.

Max had had his big win,
Ray and Teresa were safe.

Everyone was happy.
So what changed?

Tommy'd had enough of his suspension.

He finally decided
to do something about it.

He called the steward, Shane Walton.

Tried to blow Max McKenzie's
betting scam right out of the water.

But what if Shane Walton
was crooked?

Being paid by Max McKenzie.
Hmm.

Oh, he's crooked, alright.

Shane Walton's financials
are squeaky clean,

but Barry Walton's accounts
are very interesting.

Who's Barry Walton?

Shane's old man. He's 83 years old
and he lives in a care facility.

Dementia.
But his bank account's still active.

Money in, money out.

And the withdrawals
either just disappear

or they're followed by these big,
fat deposits a couple of days later.

A pattern. Wins/losses.

So we executed a warrant on the TAB.

Presto - there's an account there
for Barry Walton.

It was opened years ago.
It's still active.

Shane Walton's been placing bets.
Not kosher for a steward.

There's also two very large cash
payments into Barry's bank account.

1 0 grand a few days
before the race

that Tommy Masters
deliberately lost,

1 0 grand afterwards.

This could be our way
to Max McKenzie. Wanna drive?

We should tell Jarvis.

No, stuff Jarvis.
We'll do this ourselves.

Do you reckon Walton will talk?

High-profile racing identity.
He's got a lot to lose.

We offer him a deal,
you never know.

Ryan.

Yeah?

Where?

It's Shane Walton.

He's not gonna lead us
to Max McKenzie now, is he?

Don't go off without me
next time, Joyner.

Just showing some initiative, sir.

Now we've lost
a potential witness.

It's not my fault, is it?

You got something to say to me?!

You wanted to rattle Max's cage,
give him a scare. I guess it worked.

Now, you listen to me.

Shane Walton's dead
because we were getting too close.

Now there's one less scumbag
in the game board

and we have another line of inquiry
to pursue, don't we?

Anything new
from the transaction records?

Nothing that links Walton
to Max McKenzie.

All the deposits were made in cash.
Of course.

Then we'd better find another way
to ping him, hadn't we?

This was obviously a meet.
Someone Shane Walton knew.

And a meet has to be arranged.

I'll check phone records,
talk to his wife,

find out if she knew
who he was going to see.

Another fake suicide?

Not so well organised this time.

There weren't even any muzzle
flash burns to Walton's head.

There won't be any residue
on the hands either.

Bring in Max and his muscle.

Squeeze him.
See what you can find out.

Dennis might slip up. He's not
the brightest button on the blouse.

OK.

Be careful.
The Menace is probably carrying.

That's if he didn't leave his gun
with Mr Walton along with a bullet.

What about Ray and Teresa Stairmont?

You're not gonna hang them out
to dry, are you?

Would I do that?

Go over and get the old man
and the girl, bring them in.

We'll put them in a hotel
or something till this is over.

No way. There's no way anyone's
chasing me off my own property.

You're not listening to me, Ray.
You could both be in danger here.

Well, fine. Take Teresa.

I'm not going anywhere.
I don't want you here, Tess.

I told you I'm not going anywhere,

not until you tell me
what this is about.

You can't take either of us if we refuse
and that's what we're doing.

So you might as well leave.

OK, alright.

You won't come,
we'll organise some uniforms

to keep an eye on the place.

Visible presence.
Anything comes up, give us a call.

Anytime. OK?

You know what this is all about,
don't you?

Just drop it, Tess.
No!

You can't protect me
from everything, Grandad.

Tell me the truth
so I can deal with it.

Everything.

You thought Shane Walton was gonna
spill his guts to the stewards

about your betting scam.

So you went round there

and instructed your gorilla,
Mr Reece, to shoot him in the head

and make it look like suicide.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you,
Superintendent,

but I was at home playing snooker
with Dennis.

We played all night
and into the morning.

It was a marathon. Max won.

We play two or three times a week.

Seriously, I couldn't
have had anything to do

with Tommy Masters's death
and neither could Dennis.

You didn't maim his horse, either?

No.

Or try to coerce him into fixing a race
via your mate, Colin Weatherby?

I don't know Colin personally.
He rides for me on occasions.

I think he's in Dubai now, isn't he?

We're checking out who paid his fare.

Good luck with that, Superintendent.

There's a lot of very
generous people in Dubai.

And we're organising
for him to come back too.

Have to find him first, though,
won't they?

Well, they'll find him.

He won't tell you anything.

But he does know something,
doesn't he?

What? I don't know.

Can't rehearse every answer,
can you?

We haven't rehearsed anything.
You've got nothing, have you?

No? Horse nobbling, standovers,
betting scams.

Murder.
Nothing on any of them.

I've got a business function
and I really should go.

You're not gonna charge me, are you?

Deja bloody vu.

That's exactly what he did to us
last time.

He schools his muscle,
they alibi each other.

Even if we trip Dennis up,
he's still gonna protect Max.

Yeah. Loyalty, fear - same result.

Not gonna get away with it.

He's having a good crack at it.

Just heard from the embassy
in Dubai.

They're talking to the authorities
about extradition,

but it might all be academic.

That jockey, Colin Weatherby,
he's done a runner.

Max must've got to him.

So I assume that you'll be
releasing my associate?

Your goon, you mean?

Come on, Superintendent,
you've had your fun.

Oh, no, that'll come
when I charge you for murder.

I haven't started having fun.
You wait till I really start having fun.

If you pull me

or any of my employees in here again
without cause,

I promise you enough writs
to wallpaper your office.

Inside and out!

Teresa, what the hell are you doing?
Stay away from me!

Where are you going with that?
Out.

Sweetheart, don't be silly.
Come inside, we'll talk this over.

Too little, too late.
Teresa, please...

What have you got to say?

Tommy came to you for advice,
for help.

I told him to do what they said.
I thought it was for the best.

I was trying to protect you.
And now he's dead!

I... I know. I was wrong.

They killed him because they knew
he wasn't gonna let it go.

Not in the end.
They gave him a choice, didn't they?

Him or us! And he chose.

I'm sorry.

You knew that and you didn't do
anything about it!

I didn't know what else to do.

I thought this was the safest way
to play it.

The crooked way? Just keep it all
hidden and it will all go away?

I was thinking of you.

You always said what the racing game
needed was more honest men.

I thought you were one of them.

Leave me alone!

Tess! No!

No!

Nothing from the phone search.

If Walton called Max,
it must've been from a public phone.

There's nothing
from the crime scene either.

Just confirmation from Ronnie
that it wasn't suicide.

Shane Walton was shot
from three feet away.

Buchanan. Yes, Ray.

We know McKenzie is responsible
for Shane's death. We can't prove it.

When was this? OK, OK.

You just sit tight, we'll send
someone round to pick you up.

Ray Stairmont?

Teresa just drove off
with his rifle.

Max McKenzie.

Get out!

Take it easy, take it easy.
Out!

I know what you did.

Everything that happened -
Ginger Mae, the race fixing, everything!

OK, calm down. You've made a mistake.
Who are you?

You know who I am. Now, admit it.
You killed Tommy, didn't you?!

I don't know
what you're taking about.

Tell me!
Listen, you don't want to do this.

If you think that shooting me
is gonna fix everything,

is gonna bring Tommy back, it won't.

Stay back!
Why did you have to kill him?!

I don't know what
you're talking about. Please.

Argh!

Ahh!

God! Where were you, you idiot?!

Get around here.

Put her on the ute.

You know where to take her.

If you get any trouble from Leo,
you know what to do.

Go.
OK.

Bitch.

Crazy bitch.

Gentlemen, I have important
business associates arriving

in a couple of hours.

What do you want?

Where's your girlfriend, Max?

Oh, come on, Dennis is never more
than six feet from you. Where is he?

What do you want?
Teresa Stairmont.

What about her?

Come on, you bastard, where is she?!

Detective, language.
I'd love you to.

Assault with witnesses. Legal action.
Go right ahead.

We believe Ms Stairmont
may be looking for you, sir.

Have you seen her?
No.

You mind if we take a look around?
Yes, I do.

You got a warrant?

You'd be well advised to cooperate,
Mr McKenzie.

Ms Stairmont's packing a nice gun.

And you're in her sights.
Thank you.

I'll keep my head down. Are we done?

What's the betting
that Dennis has got her?

Short odds.

Bloody short.

Jarvis.

Thanks. You three
get over there.

We're not staying.
KALOF just got a hit.

And?

Teresa Stairmont's ute sighted
heading towards Leo Moss's stables.

No! No! Taking money
for a few dodgy races is one thing.

Killing somebody...

You're a part of it whether
you like it or not. Grab a shovel.

Isn't there another way?
There's no backing out now.

No more, Dennis. I'm finished!

Look, she has to go.

Tommy's obviously spilt his guts
to her grandfather.

We don't know how much he told them.

I won't tell you again.

Either you're with us or you're not.

And if you're not...

..you're just another loose end.

Get a shovel.
Hey!

It's the cops!

Get rid of them!

Make them go away.

Whatever you have to do.

Leo Moss.
Detectives Buchanan and Kingston.

We're looking for Teresa Stairmont,
Ray Stairmont's granddaughter.

Here? Why would she be here?

We've got information
she might've been brought here.

Bum steer, mate. Sorry.
I don't even know Teresa Stairmont.

I know Ray. I'm sorry.
Can't help you.

We're gonna have to ask you
to come with us.

What for?
To look at some pictures.

We think Ms Stairmont
may have been abducted.

You might be able to identify
some faces.

Sure. If there's anything
I can do to help.

Alright. Now, move. Come on.

Come on!

Police! Put the weapon down!
Put it down now!

Back off, you bastard!
Back off or I'll kill her!

Looks like we just
got ourselves a siege.

The hostage negotiator's on the way, sir.
Maybe we can buy some time.

I'm not buying anything.
I'm selling. Him - out!

Get out of there...now!

Hurry up!

What have we got, Joyner?

Abduction, theft, fraud,
conspiracy to commit murder.

We're making a list.
That's a long list, Leo.

You add that to my personal upset
about money lost on races

you probably helped to fix,

and you get some idea what sort
of situation you're in right now.

And we're gonna let
all that go, Leo,

and I'm just gonna let Max McKenzie
know you dogged on him.

You'll be dead in a week.

Save the courts a lot of time.

What do you want?

We want to get that girl
out of there in one piece.

I want to know the exact layout
of the inside of that stable,

for starters!

There's another way in from the back.

Ryan, Buchanan, over here now!

You two lead a team round the back,
alright? I'll act as decoy.

Start whistling.

There's an old window on the
south side near the feed chutes.

Dennis won't know about it.

He better bloody not, Leo.

He better not.

No way out, Dennis.

Let the girl go. We can talk.

Nothing to talk about!

I'm taking her to the ute.

If you try to stop me,
I'll blow her head off!

Don't be stupid, Dennis.

It's all on Max's head.
I'm not interested in you.

You're small fry.

We just want you to bait the hook
for Max McKenzie.

Not gonna happen.

This ends
one of two ways, Dennis.

You're not gonna like
one of them.

Let's just slow this down a notch.

You still with me, Dennis?

I need to hear from you, Dennis!

Talk to me or I send my people in!

I'm still here!

Good.
How about you give it up, Dennis?

Throw out that gun of yours.

We're talking to Leo.

He's dumping it all on you, Dennis.

I don't believe you!

I'll kill her! I warned you!
I want a clear path to the ute!

Police! Drop your weapon!

Ambulance.

Might be a formality, though.

You alright?
Thanks.

We're secure.

Grandpa!

It'll be alright, sweetheart.

You're absolutely right.

The climate for investment
is certainly not what it used to be,

but there are always opportunities
if you know where to look.

Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.

Superintendent.

Nice day for it.

Business function. It's private.

Arrest warrant. It's murder.

I suppose that you'd prefer that
we did this inside, wouldn't you?

Yeah, that's a really good idea

because it'll give me a chance
to call my lawyer as promised.

We prefer to do this out here,
don't you, Joyner?

Mmm, definitely.

Can I have a word?

Yeah.

Look...

You came, I wasn't home.

You give me a couple of hours,
I'll disappear.

What's in it for me?

Money. A lot of it.

Too traceable, Max, too traceable.

Hot tips...when the fix is in.

Make a fortune
in a couple of seasons.

You're a punter. It'll look kosher.

Hot tips?

Oh, yeah.

You can start with the fourth
at Randwick tomorrow if you like.

Lady Ledashay.

Well...

..I've got a tip for you, Max.

Relax the wrists.

It doesn't pinch as much.

Max McKenzie,
you're under arrest

for the murders
of Shane Walton, Tommy Masters

and the attempted murder

of Teresa Stairmont.

Enjoy your sushi.

How was the look on Max's face
in the interview

when I told him Dennis was dead?

He looked like he dropped 50 bucks
and picked up a brass razoo.

Yeah, whatever that is.

Now Leo can't stop talking on record.

More scared of jail than Max?

He won't wear a murder charge
to protect him.

He's given us Max's direct knowledge
in nobbling Tommy's horse,

threats and coercion

and the red-hot tip - murders
of Tommy Masters and Shane Walton.

Nah. Max has been shafted big time.
He won't walk from this one.

What do you reckon, 1 0 years?

Nah, Let's have some fun, Joyner.
1 5, at least.

I reckon there's a couple of beers
in that fridge.

Hey.

Tommy Masters may be dead,
but he beat Max McKenzie to the line

and then tore up his ticket.

G'day, Brian. Yeah, Terry Jarvis.

Good.

Yeah, I do, yeah. Tomorrow.

Randwick.

Race four.

Number 4, Lady Ledashay.

$200, mate, on the nose.

On the nose, mate.

Ta.

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