Jack Irish: Bad Debts Page #7

from an ex-client, Danny McKillop,

the night he was killed.

When your bloke was shot behind

the Trafalgar, I called in the file.

I've had it with

this Dirty Harry sh*t.

Twenty years on the beat,

I fired all of three shots,

and all in response

to pricks firing at me.

Now, your name

is all over this, Jack.

What's worrying is that you were

seen in the bush, in Daylesford,

and it looks like you wiped clean

a whole lot of Danny's prints

from the scene.

You know how serious this is?

Danny's prints?

Who the hell

do you think killed them?

Wake up.

Here's the ballistics.

The gun Danny had on him

the night of the Trafalgar

was the same as the one that knocked

Ronnie Bishop and his doctor mate.

No question. You were next.

Revenge.

McKillop reckoned you fitted him up.

You, Scullin and Ronnie bishop.

If you had managed to

meet up with him that night,

you'd be looking at the lid now.

I spoke to Kevin Pixley.

Oh, yeah?

What number gin and tonic was he on?

He pretty much shafted Pitman.

You know who the biggest crook

ever to hold ministerial office

in this State is?

Oh, it'd be a pretty open field,

wouldn't it?

One clear winner,

the Honourable K Pixley.

You like his little lean-to

in Brighton?

Think that came from family money?

I need a favour from ya.

An election coming up.

Premier doesn't want a media circus

over Yarra Cove.

It's pre-history.

Now, you've made

a right tool of yourself so far,

and it's only thanks to me

you're not sitting in remand.

But keep your nose out of it,

no articles on the subject

in the dailies from your girlfriend,

and in return,

maybe I'll get the files cleaned up.

No charges. No trace of you.

Come on, eh?

My private line, if you need me.

Tony'll drive you back.

You're right to walk from here,

Jack?

You're joking, aren't ya?

Outski.

You've got a bad history

of losing your women, don't ya?

Be a shame to repeat it.

(Gunshot echoed)

OMINOUS MUSIC:

(Echoed, muffled) Isabel!

Isabel!

Just give me ten minutes.

Meet you in the car park.

Isabel!

(Gunshot echoes)

I thought you could use

some MSG and trans fats.

Great.

Remember all those companies

that sold their land to Charis?

Um, the supremely virginal oil,

the pepper grinder,

but not the toothpicks?

Yeah, not the toothpicks.

Names like

Edelweiss Nominees Number 12,

and Collarstud Holdings

and Rabbitrun...

You can put your hands around me

if you like.

..all registered in the Caymans

and Vanuatu.

So, for your average reporter,

a dead end.

I'll get some plates, eh?

No, no. I want you to listen.

This food'll kill you anyway.

It's only a dead end

if the companies

don't own real estate here,

and, you see,

all these companies did.

They bought existing buildings,

so they had to pay water rates,

electricity bills,

like real people do.

So, a brilliant journalist

traced them.

And guess where all the bills

got sent?

Well, to a management company.

And guess who the signatory was

for that management company?

Um...

Joseph Kwitny, I hear you suggest?

No, that'd be completely improper.

His wife.

Give the man a fish ball.

Charis was there from the start.

They knew bloody well the

development was going to proceed.

Pitman was their inside man.

I am going to print with this.

Hey, listen, um...

I met with Garth Bruce today.

He, uh...

he has ballistic evidence

proving that Danny McKillop

killed all three,

and I, apparently,

was next on the list.

Hang on.

I haven't got over the

'I met with Garth Bruce' bit yet.

Why?

I know, I know.

He basically made it clear to me

that it's a conspiracy theory.

I mean, he's right.

You can't connect Pitman and Kwitny

to the murders

without a tangible, beneficial link,

and we don't have one.

Normally, lawyer talk turns me on,

yet I'm not so sure this time.

I told him we'd drop it.

Why the hell would you do that?

They know I was in Daylesford.

They've got my fingerprints.

Then you ask yourself

why they didn't charge you?

Five minutes

with the Police Minister,

you come out in reverse?

This is a huge story.

I'm running with it.

I told them you wouldn't.

Yeah, well,

I'm not yours to shut up,

and I don't know

what made you think I was.

Oh, come on.

Screw you, Jack.

Actually, no, that's the

last thing that'll ever happen.

Oh, Linda... Linda!

God, Linda, just once

fall for a proper bloke, eh?

(Laughs) F***ing hell.

I didn't wake you, did I?

No.

Some idiot turned the saw on

at at five o'clock in the morning!

He woke me.

Oh, well,

I'm glad it wasn't me, then.

This table needs something special,

to hide the disaster

you make of joins.

Come here.

Cuban mahogany.

One hundred years old.

So beautiful...

..maybe they won't notice

the mess you've made.

Yeah, I don't know

that I'm ready for this, Charlie.

Till you make

something nice out of it,

it's only a piece of wood.

Mr Pitman, Linda Hillier.

I was wondering if I could

ask you a couple of questions.

Love, I'm only here

for a wretched breakfast meeting

with a bunch of religious nutters.

I'm running a story

on the Yarra Cove development

and specifically your links

to the Charis Corporation.

Would you care to comment?

I'll happily answer

all your questions, love.

Best make an appointment

with my secretary.

Hillier, was it?

I'll tell her you'll call.

Yeah, the problem

seems to be ongoing.

There he is, lads.

Dakota Dreaming.

Part of the superannuation plan.

Walks like a stayer.

You can tell.

Next Saturday, Caulfield, race four.

What's her experience?

Well, rounding up cattle

in the country, mainly.

Couple of city wins.

Cam's happy.

He wanted a girl from the start.

Women keep their mouth shut.

Well, they don't get on the phone,

go to the pub

and do all their mates favours.

She loves this horse.

Don't want some

cocky bastard on him,

hard hands, know it all,

thinks he can thrash him home.

You'll understand if I say

you're not to make any outside calls

until after Saturday's race, love.

Is this big?

Well, big enough.

This horse is going to win because

it's the best horse in the race.

There's nothing else going on here.

Microfiche.

How old is this?

Yep, just keep going. Faster.

What's that? OK, can...

Wait, go back a bit.

No! No!

No!

No!

Stop.

No, back.

There. That.

Got him.

Well, that was nice.

Girl can ride.

230 on this sheep paddock?

For a stayer, she's smoking.

So you in? It's 25 big ones.

Jesus! By next Saturday?

Well, can you do it?

Well, I might have to sell a kidney.

You having fun there, Schumacher?

Two pricks on a bike have been

with us since we left the track.

I just wanted to see what they'd do.

Uh... what's going on?

I don't know.

Could be just two guys

out for a joyride.

Could be someone who

thinks we've got cash on board.

(Knocks)

(Car engine starts)

Harry, you want to reach

under the seat for me, please?

There's a little case there.

Want to open it for me please, Jack?

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