Jack Irish: Dead Point Page #4

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Mike Cundall came to mind.

Cundall Stevedores?

Did you confront him?

I'm only stupid once.

Robbie's death,

did that surprise you?

Yeah.

It made me sad.

I was hoping I'd have the chance

to kill him myself.

Ah, excuse me?

Are you Mike Cundall?

What grubby newspaper are you from?

Ah, I'm not a journo, mate.

Oh, lucky.

I was going to accidentally have to

drop one of those containers on you.

No, my name's Jack. I'm a lawyer.

Oh, spoke too soon.

How'd you get security access?

Ah, Justice Loder's office.

Listen, I just wanted to ask you

if you were aware of a sex tape

involving Susan Ayliss.

No.

But if you've got a copy

I'm happy to take a look.

Well, she reckons you might have

put Robbie Colburne up to it.

Yeah? Oh, that'd be a fair cop,

you know?

Now, between processing

half a million containers here,

I like to make a bit of amateur porn

on the weekend.

Do you know Robbie Colburne?

Yeah, heard the name.

Pinched that Porsche, didn't he?

Well, and a bootload of smack,

apparently.

Listen, if you think

some pissant Judicial Inquiry's

going to bother me,

you're wrong, alright?

I deal with the big boys

in shipping. Take a look.

See?

Just don't expect me to take the

fall for some conga line f***-sticks

running Customs and the AFP, got it?

Now, there's the exit. F*** off.

What time

do you call this, huh?

You come and go as you please.

Like a cat.

The place looks like a mausoleum.

Charlie still in the old country,

is he?

Yeah.

He hasn't even sent me a postcard.

Come for a ride, Jack.

They're letting the Commissioner

out of hospital today.

Oh, yeah? Righto.

I should have taken up

cabinet making.

Man needs a hobby.

Maybe golf.

Stamps.

You've got your horseracing, Harry.

They're just quadrupeds

running in a circle.

I'll be in the car.

First time he's been out of

his dressing gown in days.

He won't even look at the form guide.

Hey, my mate from Moonee Valley,

he came through.

CCTV, black Land Cruiser, left

the car park just after our race.

Let me guess, stolen car?

But I spoke to Cynthia before.

Less vague now,

but she says one of them had a tatt

on his middle finger, right hand.

What sort of tatt?

Oh, jailbird tatt.

Stick figure with a halo.

Bit like an old Saints logo.

Oh, a Saints fan

with a criminal record.

That should narrow it down a bit.

That's the way. Easy does it.

Somebody did the garden.

Harry sent his man over.

Somebody's done the house.

Oh, Harry's got a man

for everything.

All you need to be doing, Cynth,

is getting better.

Even the shopping.

Oh, are... are you in pain, love?

You right, Cynth?

I don't deserve this.

Well, of course you do!

I'm not a good mum.

What sort of life

have I given my kids?

Where's this coming from, mate?

This the morphine talking?

They'll be home soon.

Must look a fright.

Maybe get her make-up.

I don't have any.

Oh. Try Marie's.

It's my own stupid fault.

Working seven days a week,

letting Frank screw me over

with child support.

Oh, come on. Come on.

Cam, you're hurting my arm.

Oh, you mean this one

you've been jabbing needles in?

I found this in your room.

What were you doing in my room?

I was looking for make-up

for your mum.

You haven't told her, have you?

Listen, it's not about the drugs.

It's about whoever it was

who nearly killed your mother.

It's over.

I haven't used since she got bashed.

You realise you could go to jail

for conspiracy, don't you?

I told this bloke that my mum

did big money bets.

What bloke?

Come on, Marie,

you can't go back now.

Artie.

His name's Artie.

Artie.

He hasn't got a tattoo on

his finger, has he?

Little stick figure.

I don't know where to find him.

He has a number you text.

So why'd you tell him? Showing off?

I don't know. It was stupid.

Mum always warned me that...

Alright, so you told Artie

and then what?

He says, 'Tell me when your mum's

going to the races and I'll...

..I'll give you a free hit.'

Nice.

That morning y'all came round,

I knew something big was brewing.

I'll trace the number.

I'll let you know when I find him.

Still want that crime scene

happy snap?

Oh, and they say you blokes move

at a glacial pace.

Speaking of, have you seen this pie?

This thing's crumbling like

an Antarctic ice shelf.

Hand ball over the top!

You know, if you squint

you can almost forget it's only

the amateurs. Go Roys!

Yeah! Bravo!

Oh, lovely play!

Oh, did you see the sidestep?

Feel like I've died

and gone to heaven.

We're gonna win this one, Jack!

I can feel it in me bones.

I reckon that's your osteo, Eric.

Who's this, mate?

Elvis Presley.

Who do you think it is?

Well, it's not Robbie Colburne.

No, it's definitely not him.

Well, there's a shitload of

paperwork that says differently.

If Robbie wasn't dead,

where do you reckon he'd be?

Wait in your car.

I'll see if I can get away.

It's a nice car.

It's a Studebaker, right?

Yeah.

Sienna can't get away.

There's a cabinet minister

that needs entertaining.

She told me about the photographs.

Mm.

So it seems that Judge Loder's

been a victim

of a rogue element

of my establishment.

So Robbie wasn't bidding

on your behalf, then?

Jack, I'm a facilitator.

I'm a keeper of secrets.

Mm.

There's no Snug without them.

Colin's a good man,

I don't want to see his name

dragged through the mud.

So, if there's anything

that I can do...

Thanks.

Come inside next time.

You must be the world's oldest

apprentice.

Can't sleep?

Here, make yourself useful

and hold that, will you?

It's a two-person job.

When does Charlie get back?

I don't know.

It was only supposed to be

a short trip, apparently.

I'm wondering if he's gone home

to die like an elephant.

Why didn't you tell me that

Justice Loder's your father-in-law?

I saw the invitation on the fridge.

I didn't think it was relevant.

Is he your mystery client?

Well, he's a member of The Snug,

so is Susan Ayliss.

What's going on, Jack?

Look, he's been compromised, OK?

It's a personal matter.

Oh, I hear the women there

are beautiful.

Been touching the merchandise,

has he?

It's a... Just hold that.

Please don't run the story, OK?

It'll kill him.

But if Loder's being blackmailed

like Susan Ayliss, then someone's

trying to fix a Judicial Inquiry.

People need to know about that.

You want to win a Walkley Award

by outing a judge, is that right?

If he wasn't Isabel's father, would

we even be having this conversation?

Is this for your niece?

Yep.

They named her Isabel.

Yes, they did. Can you believe it?

Why don't you move in?

Just like that?

Yeah. I mean, people do it.

What are we doing?

Cooking meals for one.

Sleeping in empty beds.

I'm just not sure

what we're waiting for.

Well...

..why don't we start with you

inviting me to the christening?

Baby steps.

God, I love it

when you speak like that.

I, Isabel Irish do hereby,

herewith, heretofore claim

all reasonable rights, wavers,

warranties and consents

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