Jack Irish: Bad Debts Page #8

686 Smith & Wesson.

When was the last time

you shot anything, Jack?

Oh... some rabbits about

20 years ago in the Mallee.

I missed most of them, though.

(Tyres screech)

The bloke in the back's

got a little bag or something.

Well, that'll be his play lunch.

Hold on.

I'm going to take the scenic route.

Can't outrun 'em.

I think we'll have

to show the boys the iron.

Out we go!

I'll stay where I am, Cam!

Stay down!

Give me the gun!

Get down!

(Rapid gunfire)

You bastards!

Party over?

Yeah, looks that way, boss.

That ain't the way you go about

taking money off people.

Uh...

I don't think this

is about the horses, fellas.

Might have something to do

with a little job I've taken on.

Well, don't take on any big jobs.

Yeah.

Want me to wait?

No, it's OK. Cheers.

You alright?

Have you seen anyone go in or out?

No.

Alright, come on. I'm gonna

grab some stuff then we'll go.

Look out!

No, no, Jack, you can't.

Jack, leave it!

Come on, please!

Leave it! It's gone!

Hop in the car, Jack!

Get in the car!

No!

Come on, Jack!

Hop in!

Should be comfortable here.

It belongs to my current.

She's in Italy somewhere,

swanning with her mother.

Wish I was in Italy with her Mum.

I need to swap the Jag over

for the ute.

You need me, I'm on my phone.

But don't use your mobile.

Help yourself to the fridge.

I'm in the apartment opposite.

I can see everything from there.

That's how I met my girlfriend.

(Laughs)

I'm indebted, Cam.

Next Saturday, at Caulfield,

we pay off our debts.

See ya, Jack.

Cheers, mate.

See ya, Linda.

Thanks, Cam.

Found something

of historical interest.

Well, Bishop's mum

did say he was into filmmaking.

Down the bottom,

name of the cop who said it was

all a case of mistaken identity.

Ah... (Mutters)

..Detective Sergeant Scullin.

One paragraph on,

the other arresting officer.

Senior Sergeant Garth Bruce.

Ronald Bishop had to be

blackmailing them, didn't he?

So, we need to find whatever it was

he had over them before they do.

Which will probably keep us alive

for another week.

You realise we are going to end up

in a caravan park in Deniliquin

on witness protection, don't ya?

What is it about the imminent death

that makes you horny?

I'm just turned on

by the thought of Deniliquin.

Ahh!

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

(Breathes heavily)

Ah, McKillop's wife.

What?

Well, you told me that she said

that this all started when McKillop

received a call

from a mystery woman, right?

Is this your idea of pillow talk?

A call from

a recently widowed woman.

She rang and said that

she had something that

proved Danny's innocence.

It has to be the wife

of someone on the inside.

Well, who knows?

It could be someone from Charis,

or Good Hands, or a cop.

Death notices.

The obituaries from that time.

Somewhere there has to be

a name that jumps out.

Right. Yeah.

Hang on a sec.

Didn't your mother tell you it's

rude not to finish what you start?

Can you not mention my mother?

Uh, this is Doctor Charles Taub here,

from Monash University

Medical School.

Um... Denise, we're doing a study

on police mortality.

Hopefully, our research will mean

higher stress loadings

on police salaries.

Yeah, I'm just wanting

to double-check our data

on any police deaths

in the last three months.

Sure.

I find appealing to their pockets

usually gets more answers.

Two in January?

Motor transport.

Yeah, yeah, I've got those.

None in Feb.

Yes, thank God.

PK Vane?

Yeah, I did hear about that.

Uh... no, thanks, Denise.

That's all we need.

Thank you. Bye.

PK Vane, shot dead in

the driveway of his Seaford home.

What department?

Special Branch.

Well, that's gotta be him,

doesn't it?

I mean, that's got to be his wife

who called Danny.

Can you get an address?

Sure.

Cam.

(On phone, quiet) Hey,

listen brother. It's time to go.

There's some blokes

coming up your way.

Don't use the back. Use the roof.

We've gotta get out of here.

(Banging at door)

Oh, sh*t!

(Banging)

Jack Irish? Police!

We know you're home.

(Bangs on door)

Open the door, Jack!

Roof!

Come, come, come!

Find another way out!

(Glass smashes)

Give me that f***ing chair!

Alright!

God.

Mrs Vane?

You sure this is the right house?

WOMAN:
Excuse me!

Oh, Mrs Vane, I'm sorry.

We're just wondering

if you can help us.

I take it you're not

Jehovah's Witness.

Didn't I see you

at Danny McKillop's funeral?

Paul had the Jeppeson girl

under surveillance

the day she was run over.

He said he'd seen her...

get murdered.

That they'd framed someone

and that he had something

that would prove it.

Did he say what?

No.

He didn't want me to know.

Well, why didn't he

come forward himself?

He was too scared.

He started hiding guns

all around the place.

Started checking for phone taps.

He took an early retirement

and sat on the couch for years

just watching nature docos.

I mean, it wasn't exactly the kind

of retirement that I had planned.

And then one day, he just...

..he just snapped.

He got up, he rang Dan McKillop

and he told him,

'We can make these bastards pay.'

Pay?

I think the word is blackmail.

Oh, and they paid him out.

They shot him in the driveway

in front of his dog.

Jesus.

All the cops pulled the place apart

trying to find whatever it was.

Pretended they

were looking for clues.

I told them I didn't know.

If you didn't know

what he had over them,

then why did

you call Danny McKillop?

I may not know what it is,

but I have a fair idea where it is.

You've got a long drive

ahead of you.

Here it is.

I bet it's in there.

How do you know?

Oh, debt collector's instinct.

There's a crowbar in the ute.

Yeah, I know. I was lying on it.

Move along, Kamahl.

Jack Irish.

You know, you really are

one giant pain in the arse.

Oh, well, I'm sorry

to be such an inconvenience.

Where is it?

I don't know.

We're just here on holidays.

You know, maybe if you tell us

what it is you're looking for.

Who do you think I am, Miss Marple?

(Thud!)

Let's be clear at the outset.

What's gonna happen is

I'm gonna kill the blackfella.

Oh, like the good old days.

Then I'll move onto the woman.

They're not involved, OK?

Well, they are now.

You see, you're all

going to die here, Jack.

It's really

just a question of speed.

Get us what we're looking for

and it can be over in a heartbeat.

Painless, like putting down a dog.

Dick us around,

I mean, there's no-one for miles.

Death could come very slowly.

They know the story I'm working on.

They know your names.

Tell me, do people

still read newspapers?

It's in the fireplace.

Show us.

Yeah, OK.

(Cam grunts)

OK, now get up there.

This coat cost me four grand.

Yeah, right.

Don't get stuck up there, Jack.

You'll make an easy target for Tony.

Ow.

Come on, get a move on!

(Linda screams)

Taking too long!

No! It's here.

LINDA:
Bastard! (Grunts)

She's a real fighter, Jack.

Arggh!

Get on with it!

Thank you very much.

I will take that.

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