Jack Irish

Salamat po!

Shit!

This is a great opportunity, Jack. I don't want to die not knowing.

I've never understood that. So you're about to get hit by a bus

and you think to yourself, 'Oh! At least I now know how I'm gonna die.'

How is that helpful? I'm taking a chance.

I get an office, support staff,

some terrific apartment in the heart of Manila.

I won't be tied to one paper, one editor.

Selina, she's guaranteed she'll use all my stuff.

Yeah, but why Asia, why Manila?

Asia's the new Middle East.

Like we need another one of those.

I wanna know why a guy from Ivanhoe

who went to the same uni as me is trying to set up

a sharia state in the Philippines.

Ever been to Ivanhoe?

This is not about us not having kids, is it?

No, no. It's not. It's fine. I'm over that.

The bigger question is why you won't come with me.

I don't have a passport. What are you, American?

Admit it - you're just too gutless to break from your petty world

of old men and footy. I don't knock your career.

You don't have a career, Jack.

You've hardly got a life. I'll just be a sec.

Me leaving is convenient for you, isn't it -

no big break-up, no need to make a commitment.

Don't put this onto me! You're the one doing the leaving.

Yeah, but just once, you could have tried to stop me.

Mm.

No, the taxi's waiting. I'm already late.

I'll be quick, you know me. Come on - up against the wheelie bin.

That's an attractive offer. Just five minutes, mate.

I guess we're not stopping at all stations, then.

We don't need to, do we?

Careful. You might get that child you never wanted.

Anyway...

Bye, Jack.

My bags.

I'm late.

You have to marry them or they go.

She has a career.

They only want careers if you don't commit.

I met my Ava one day, proposed the next.

Sex every night.

Then the Berlin Wall goes up, her one side, me the other.

No more sex.

The wall came down in '89, Charlie. Didn't want sex by then.

Some men are never ready - not for marriage, not for kids.

Gives it that special lustre,

knowing these have been close to your balls, eh?

Hello, Sue. Janene! Sit, please.

Everyone makes such a fuss over coffee -

the froth, the type of machine, the country of origin.

Yet they often give we poor tea drinkers a tea bag.

I hate paying for things if I know exactly how much they cost to make.

A tea bag is, what - 10c, 5c? Milk and hot water. Tops, 15c a cup.

The real thing here.

You seem tense, Janene.

No, no, no. I'm... I'm fine.

How are we going at the prison?

I reckon there's a few potentials.

Um, refresh my memory.

Strangled his girlfriend or something?

Yeah. Manslaughter, five years.

That's right. May I have a look?

He comes up for parole next week and his passport's current.

Yes, that seems like a very good choice, Janene.

Tell me, have you heard from our Tina at all?

She's still overseas, isn't she?

No! She's back from the Philippines, apparently.

Left the mission without a word. I thought you would have heard.

We're not really in touch.

I thought you two were close.

That's funny.

I was sure you would have been the first person Tina called.

One for the road!

You would tell us if she had, wouldn't you?

Of course.

Tina, call me, wherever you are.

Sue's asking questions. Tina, is everything OK?

Can't miss her.

No! No! No, no!

Shut the fuck up.

Pick her up.

Bruce, come on, mate!

Bruce!

Bloody stop, would ya?

Shit!

Argh!

Bruce!

Jessica! Jessica?

Come on!

This sort of spectacle's not doing

either of our profiles any good, mate.

I don't have Harry's money.

I'll pay him as soon as I can, I promise.

It's a food chain, Bruce.

You're a single-cell organism, I'm barely plankton

and Harry Strang's learned to walk on land.

If you don't pay him, he doesn't pay me.

I got bills to pay, mate.

I'll pay you another way!

I don't want a bloody horse, mate.

It's a goody. You could sell it. A bloke called Chink has the papers.

Show it to Harry. Show it to Cam. They'll tell you.

Chink. Right.

Sid's funeral was a funeral. Best last year, for mine.

Not just sandwiches, actual cooked food.

You can't have a funeral at midday and not feed people.

Bloody Roy! Tighter than a Murray cod's arse.

Who died? Roy Dexter.

You know Roy - he was on the statue committee.

You're not still talking about doing that statue for my old man, are you?

He's been dead for 40 years. Well, now seems a good time.

While he's still fresh in everyone's memory.

A cold one, Stan. Yes, mate.

I'm sorry to hear about Roy.

You'd be sorrier if you'd gone to his wake.

If the wife goes before the husband, don't go to the wake,

because they never cater properly.

He's the one in mourning. Woman troubles.

Oh.

You know that beautiful Chinese woman I was dating

after Stella shot through with my cousin?

No. You do. Mai Wong.

Mai Wong? Yeah. I showed you photos of her.

Met her on the internet.

Been going out for months, and it was getting serious.

She wanted to meet. You hadn't met?

Oh, we'd exchanged photos.

She liked what she saw. I was ready to commit.

What did she see, exactly? How old was the photo?

But we didn't want to rush it.

We needed to be sure of our feelings.

So I sent her money for a plane ticket,

and you wouldn't believe it -

it was a bloody scam!

A scam, on the internet?

I got a notice from my service provider.

Apparently, I'd been talking to some bloke

from the Russian mafia the whole time.

Heartened to see they've finally introduced a dress code here.

And I really thought I had a connection with this woman.

Except it was a man, a Russian man.

Well, a connection's a connection, Jack.

Customary in the racing world to respect the dictates of the clock.

Myself and Cam have been standing at your place for a good ten minutes.

This is how the last bloke you had me chase wants to pay you,

and by default, me.

We don't want a horse. That much I know.

It's a mug's game! Oh, I know.

Feed, agistment, vets fees.

People think they know what they're getting into.

Coffee shops, hairdressing salons, nags - mugs' games.

We're in furious agreement,

hence, I don't want a horse currently chewing grass in Traralgon.

Look at the white markings on the off-side fetlock, and the forehead.

High neck.

Who's got this horse?

Some bloke called Chink. Chink?

Chink has this horse? You sure he said his name was Chink?

Yeah. But I don't want a horse.

It's a while since I've been down Traralgon way.

Tina, where are you? Pick up!

I got your message with the number.

I don't know what you want me to do with it.

Call me. Please.

If you don't, I'm going to go to the cops.

JANENE, VOICEMAIL: Tina, where are you? Pick up!

I got your message with the number.

I don't know what you want me to do with it.

Call me. Please.

If you don't, I'm going to go to the cops.

Is the traffic always like this?

No, sometimes it's busy.

We thought you were coming next week.

I sent someone called Orton all the details. Surely he got them?

Uh, Orton... Orton doesn't read anything.

It was 12 words.

Orton doesn't really come in much.

Yeah, yeah...

I think I've got some money in here somewhere...

Is this apartment central?

Yes. Close to shops?

Uh, yes.

This is where you're staying.

You're joking?

No.

Is this some special saint's day?

No, it's church. Open 24 hours.

Here, I'll take that one.

You can take this one.

Just this one. I'll take them all.