Jack Irish: Bad Debts Page #5

it hasn't quite got me there.

Well, I am... I am rusty.

I'm happy, though.

Happy?

That you were even... considering it.

(Dog growls)

(Phone rings)

Hey, Jack!

(Growling, grunting)

Are you right?

(Dogs bark)

Yeah.

Yeah, just a been

working the dogs for Harry.

He's been worried

they're going a bit soft.

What can I do you for?

Just wondering if you've

still got that mate at the Telco.

I need to trace a couple of calls

from a phone owned by

a bloke called Ronald Bishop.

Ohh, Harry doesn't like me using

his contacts for outside work.

Cam, Harry owes me, OK?

The last bloke he sent me to

pointed a dodgy old gun at my balls.

Text me the number.

If Harry's OK with it,

I'll see what I can do.

Who's the best dog in the world

then, eh?

Who's the best dog in the world?

(Dogs bark)

So, Mr Big Business Man.

Mr Executive.

Has no time to go

to the telephone anymore.

Has to carry it all the time

with him.

It's just work, Charlie.

Next, no time for the toilet.

Take a mobile scheishaus,

a little shithouse,

you can carry away all the time,

so you can do it in car.

How did you know I lived here?

Do you own a suit?

Why? Are you inviting me out?

Don't get too excited.

I got myself invited

to a charity event

hosted by the Charis Corporation.

Make yourself at home.

I'll just go and get dressed.

Yeah, well, make sure it's elegant.

This is high-end charity.

Righto.

'Father Alex Gorman

and Joseph Kwitny, '

Order of Australia, no less,

'cordially invites you

and rent-a-date' - that's you...

'to their launching

of the new offices

for the Charis

Good Hands Foundation.'

Oh, sh*t.

That's um...

where Ronald Bishop used to work.

I love what you've done

with the place.

Designer chic meets lone wolf.

And who's Father Gorman?

Oh, he's a handbag

for high-society women

when their husbands are

out screwing the secretary.

Right.

Uh... been a while

since I've worn this.

She's beautiful.

Yeah.

I read what happened.

I can't think of anything worse.

The Jeppeson case

was around that time, wasn't it?

Yeah.

Yeah.

This crusade you're on...

is it connected,

as some sort of guilt thing?

Oh, I don't think so.

I was in too much of a state of

incoherent rage to think about guilt.

Out of date but gorgeous.

Do you mind if I drive?

We can listen to Nat King Cole.

FATHER GORMAN:

Look around you. Take it in.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Our new home, here at Yarra Cove,

overlooking the

world's most liveable city.

I thank the Lord for it every day.

Champagne's French.

Oh, sh*t.

Is that a problem?

Means they know

how to treat the media.

Cheers.

..whose generosity allows

this instrument of the Lord's will

to work in such splendour.

Without Joe Kwitny, Good Hands'

Outreach Program for kids,

both here and in Asia,

would simply not exist.

Over many years

they've supported us,

not just with the development

of our sanctuary here...

Lance Pitman.

The Honourable Minister for

Planning. He's on the board.

Do you think

he's ever met a homeless kid?

Probably rooted a few.

We pray for the Charis Corporation

and we thank them

for their generosity.

Now please, a big welcome...

(Applause)

What do we know about him?

He lives abroad.

He's a poor boy made good,

then a lot more gooder.

Now, if you look out over the Yarra,

over the railway lines

and the shunting yards,

and past the docks,

you may see the street

where I grew up.

It's not pretty, even now.

When I lived there

we had no sewerage,

and power if we could afford it.

But we had one thing.

We had a dream, us Kwitnys.

Father Gorman?

Jack Irish.

I wonder if I could bother you

for a moment. Mr Irish!

Now, there's a good Catholic name.

Yeah, my old man thought so.

Listen, I understand that a Ronald

Bishop used to work for Good Hands.

Bishop?

Um...

You'd think I'd remember

a name like that, wouldn't you?

Um...

Oh, yeah. That was a...

that was a very long time ago.

Rodney wasn't really cut out

for the work, I'm afraid.

He was, uh...

It's not a criticism,

but not everyone

has the gifts needed

to work with our problem youths.

But he's been in contact

with you recently, hasn't he?

Uh... yes. He, uh... he rang me.

In fact, he dropped in here.

He, um... seemed a little agitated,

but I was rushing off to a meeting,

so we barely chatted.

Francis. Hey, still no sugar.

I might have to send you

back to waiter school.

I'm sorry, Father. I will get some.

Ronnie was working for you

when he testified

against a hit-and-run driver.

The Jeppeson woman.

Yeah, that was a terrible tragedy.

I knew her mother.

She was a delightful person.

Did he ever talk about that night?

Is there, uh... some reason

I should recall such a conversation?

No. Not if you don't.

A very sad business.

Would you excuse me?

Sure.

They had a huge argument.

What about?

Father Gorman accused Ronnie

of stealing something,

and Ronnie was yelling back at him,

'No way you're

hanging me out to dry'.

Are you sure this was Ronnie?

Oh yeah, we know Ronnie.

What'd he pinch?

You're not really Irish,

are you Jack?

What was your grandfather's name?

Issy Reich?

I-reich. I-rish.

You're just a Jewboy, aren't you?

LINDA:
I take you to a function

serving French champagne

and you bring me here,

to a warp in the time continuum?

Well, at least when

they piss on your shoes here,

it is prostate related.

Hey.

Ho-ohh.

What a voice, eh?

Velvet.

Wilbur.

Hi, Wilbur. Linda.

Ah.

Yeah, I remember

when he started out.

Charlie Harris on bass.

Of course, afterwards, it was

the legendary Johnny Miller.

I could put this on now...

if you two wouldn't mind.

Run amok.

I was sure it was that CD

they would have been after

when they tore Ronnie's place apart.

Was there anything on it?

No, and I had

the encryption people check it.

NAT KING COLE:

The very thought of you...

You don't think this

is for our benefit, do you?

Not even Sinatra

could make this place romantic.

You're going to have to

work a lot harder than this.

(Both moan)

(Sighs) Ohh!

(Sighs) I knew this would happen,

the moment I saw you

in the news room.

Yeah, I... I bet you thought,

'Here comes six-foot-six

of solid, erotic pleasure.'

No, actually I was thinking,

this is exactly the kind of

rumpled, burnt-out sleazebag

I always end up with.

(Laughs)

So...

Did you live here with your wife?

Yeah.

Do all the girls ask that?

Yeah, every single one of them.

No, you're the first.

Well, you're the only, actually.

So you were a faithful husband?

I had you picked as a wild boy.

Domesticated as a neutered cat,

I'm afraid.

I always thought Isabel

was kind of out of my league.

You know, like she

was a mirage or something.

Yeah, mine was more coma

than mirage.

I married a gastroenterologist.

And our hobbies included waking

to alarms and supermarket shopping

and Sunday lunches with the in-laws.

And how did that finish up?

In the arms of a rock singer.

Disgracefully.

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