Dear Murderer (2017) s01e01 Episode Script
A Good Toss to Lose
1 [BUNGAY WHISTLING.]
[KEYS JINGLING.]
[LOCK CLICKS.]
There you go, Constable.
Thank you.
Lilian, you are, as His Honor says, free to go.
You can thank me later.
[DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS.]
BUNGAY: None of us can escape our personal histories.
Some of us are lucky enough to be sustained by our upbringings.
Ah! BUNGAY: Some of us find ways to rise above them.
That's it.
That's the last time you hit me, okay? It wasn't Roly's fault, Dad! He didn't mean to break nothing.
You'll never amount to nothing.
Don't you hurt him.
You can't even read or write proper.
- Let me out! - [BANGING ON DOOR.]
Then there are those, of course, who fail entirely to shake off the hard lessons of their upbringings.
With that in mind, we must accept that we cannot judge this man without making judgment to what brought him to this point, the things that he's never had, the road that he's been forced to take, the blows that life has dealt him.
COACH: Watch him! Mike! You look like a bull at a gate! Yes.
It was his intent to steal.
He stole again, straight after coming out of jail.
COACH: All right! All right! That'll do! That's enough, lads! That'll do! - BUNGAY: And why? - Bungay! I said that's enough! Because he knew no other way.
But now? Now he's in the care of Reverend Borrie.
Now he does have a kind of family, some real alternatives.
The question is, are we prepared to give him a chance to get back on his feet? Jesus, Private.
It's a sparring match, not a world title fight.
Don't see any point in sparring.
There's every point! You could box for your country if you put your mind to it.
Where'd you learn to fight like that? There you go.
Somebody gives it to you, Mikey, you give it right back.
Here.
Block.
The old one-two, eh? WICKLIFFE: Like you said, family.
I like that.
Part of a family.
BUNGAY: Family.
Wow.
- Sorry.
- "Sorry" wasn't exactly what I was hoping for.
No, I didn't mean th I mean I meant I only just got out of the Marines.
I hadn't really planned on a family.
Well, maybe family planning should've been higher on our list, then, eh? I'm 10 weeks, give or take.
Right.
Better get a job, then.
Look for a ring, else my dad'll murder you.
Trained killer or not.
We'll manage.
You'll see.
New Zealand.
They swim in the sea at Christmas, don't they? Wouldn't mind living somewhere warm.
BUNGAY: We've all made decisions in the heat of the moment.
- And when the outcome is unexpected, - we often discover it's too late to turn back.
All we can do is try to make the best of it.
Ooooh! Ah.
Fucking freezing out there.
Mike, don't swear in front of Robyn.
And it is November.
That's their summer here, Rosemary.
And it is jolly cold.
So are the chips.
Think they might need warming up.
They're moving me to Trentham.
ROSEMARY: What? You'll be going without me and Robyn, then.
We're not going anywhere.
We've just settled in here.
I said "me", anyway, love, not "us".
It's a base.
How can you really judge any man even if you and I make the best of the challenges that life throws at us? For want of dumb luck, we could fail.
What we all fear is that we will be found out, that the emperor has no clothes.
We'll all be standing in the street exposed and naked.
I was wondering if I could get posted back to Wellie, sir.
Compassionate grounds.
It's a family matter.
We're having another baby, sir.
I don't make decisions about postings, Corporal.
You have your orders.
In my experience, sir, orders in the New Zealand Army tend to be more along the lines of a topic for discussion.
You were posted in England initially.
Driving, sir.
Had our first kid there.
You seem a bit too smart to have just been driving.
Bit too smart for my own good sometimes, sir.
There may be a way for you to spend more time in Wellington.
If you enrolled at university, say.
The army's prepared to educate its men, if they are prepared to work hard.
University? Never quite got my "A" levels, sir.
MAN: And you don't need our equivalent, Bungay, not now you're enlisted, BUNGAY: There's no big difference between the criminal mind and yours and mine.
We see opportunities, we take them.
Sometimes our choices work out and we find we're great at what we end up doing, even if we're not like everyone else around us.
Just checking.
"A to E" is for names, right, not subjects.
Yeah.
Names.
Surnames.
Better be.
I'm enrolling in law.
Oh.
Right.
I've had a bit to do with the law myself.
OFFICER: Oi! Stop! Get back here! [WHISTLE BLOWS.]
Right.
Um, you're studying, too, law? Law.
Accountancy.
Doesn't much matter if you're gonna crash and burn anyway, does it? That's not the right attitude.
Eye on the prize, mate.
You got a coin? Even bet.
Heads, accountancy.
Tails, law.
- [COIN CLINKS.]
- You're serious? Why not? Well, law takes a lot longer.
Ah.
Well no.
Still, a bet's a bet.
Tails.
Bugger.
- So, here I am.
- You be the judge.
This is a woman who, after years of torment and abuse, finally said, "Enough!" She finally raised her hand and said, "Stop! You're not going to do this to me anymore.
" She defended herself and her children.
And then she rang the police and she told them what she'd done.
Murderer? Oh, dear, no.
I wouldn't call her that.
And neither should you.
[INDISTINCT TALKING.]
Gentlemen.
Outrageous.
- The verdict? - The brown shoes.
[BUNGAY WHISTLING.]
[KEYS JINGLING.]
[LOCK CLICKS.]
There you go, Constable.
Thank you.
Lilian, you are, as His Honor says, free to go.
It was lucky I took off my glasses.
Life for murder, seven, eight years for manslaughter.
You get her off completely, and she punches you? - That's out-bloody-rageous.
- Hil-bloody-arious.
Is it broken? Last time I had a broken nose, I was boxing for Britain.
- Oh, boxing, here we go.
- You never boxed for Britain.
That poor woman insisted all along she should be punished.
So I suppose she thought I had it coming.
I was expecting manslaughter.
It was the jury who found her innocent.
Oh, yeah, nothing to do with you at all, Mike.
Go her for assault, Mike.
I think she's been through enough, don't you, Jim? What's his name again? Bundy? Bungay.
He was stuck conveyancing out in Lower Hutt till a year ago.
Impossible, apparently.
Kept waiving fees for little old ladies.
Drove his solicitor mad.
And now here he is, making your life difficult.
Not for much longer, I should imagine.
Far too much the show pony for his own good.
[SNEEZING.]
Challenge.
The juror is excused.
No, no, Your Honor.
I didn't challenge.
- You said, "Challenge.
" - No, I-I snoze a sneeze.
I can assure Your Honor I wouldn't waste my final challenge on a juror who quite clearly understands the implications of the aging process in a case such as this.
The juror is excused.
The empanelment of the jury is not a game of musical chairs, Mr.
Bungay, nor is it an opportunity for you to advance the case for the defense.
As Your Honor pleases.
[SNEEZES.]
You ought to leave that crappy office of yours and come in with me, Mike.
Much better class of client.
They don't smack you on the nose.
- Usually.
- Yeah.
You never know.
Women and crims Predictably unpredictable.
And besides, Ian, I can't just up stakes.
I still owe the 50 quid I borrowed to set up that crappy office.
Unless, of course, you want to cover it.
Ah.
No.
- Hello.
- Hey, forget it, Mike.
You've got no show with that schnoz.
Hey, predictably unpredictable.
[BOTH MOANING, BREATHING HEAVILY.]
Uh! [BREATHING HEAVILY.]
You're a very beautiful girl.
And I didn't lie.
I am unattached.
I was, though married.
Nope.
It's a holiday, Mike.
BUNGAY: What you want to go on holiday to England for? Because I miss it! I miss England.
I miss my family.
BUNGAY: We're a family, aren't we? ROSEMARY: No, we aren't.
'Cause you're always studying and you're never here.
BUNGAY: I'm about to bloody graduate.
She left.
Took the kids back to England on holiday.
Never came back home.
Fucking graduation present.
[DOG BARKING.]
Bruno! Bruno! Sit.
- [DOG WHIMPERS.]
- Ah, you bloody dog.
ROSEMARY: It's not going to change, is it? Because now you'll just be working all the time! BUNGAY: I loved her and the girls.
I really think I fucked it up.
This has been a sad affair.
It's not been the job of the defense to dispute the fact that the victim was, as the Crown perhaps a bit too vividly described, viciously beaten.
We don't dispute that fact.
Nope.
But guess what.
It is also a fact that you are required, beyond reasonable doubt, to be convinced that it was our client who was the person who delivered that beating.
Now, may I remind you he was identified by a witness who was, at night, as far away as, say the back of the courtroom is from you now.
Suspicion, ladies and gentlemen, no matter how grave, is never sufficient.
AATA: Whoo-hoo-hoo! - So what now? - Now we got to get out of here.
I told you.
I said to you, didn't I? I said Wait.
Next time.
Bungay, tell me, do you own a ruler? I think I've got a couple somewhere, Mr.
Larsen.
Why? Do you want to borrow one? Just a demonstration, perhaps.
You know if you hold it in both hands and you bend it, gently and then harder and harder, eventually it'll snap.
[CHUCKLES.]
Oh, really? I do like a good metaphor.
You also like De Bretts, I've noticed, which is good, because you owe me a drink.
[BOTH CHUCKLE.]
One day, some villain will do something to you or yours, and some smartass lawyer will get them off on a technicality.
Shaky identification is hardly a technicality.
Burden of proof, Senior Sergeant Latimer.
Burden of proof.
OLDFIELD: Six years I've had to put up with that buffoon's stunts.
A word from the chief justice might help.
From me? I doubt it.
Criminal Bar, isn't he? Yes, not always on the right side of it.
In my court, at least, a bit of decorum's mandatory.
Well, you have the remit to demand it, Lionel.
And I'll exercise it if he keeps testing my patience.
[INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS, MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYS.]
[COINS CLATTER.]
Johnnie Walker Black Label.
That do you, Mr.
Larsen? Eh, excellent.
Glad you can afford it.
I hear His Honor set remuneration at tariff two.
Annoy him, did you? Not with my defense.
More the brown shoes, I think.
The old bastard.
Anyway, you enjoy the drink, Jim.
I will, Mike.
Kissed some backside, did you? [LAUGHS.]
Kick it, then kiss it.
He's much happier now that he knows my legal aid rate got reduced.
He'll get over it.
But will the victim's family? Oh.
- McEwan.
Stuart.
- Ian Greig.
How are you? - MCEWAN: Detective Inspector.
- Yeah, we know, we know.
Fishing in the muddy bits, are you? Well, I figured if you're consistently being beaten by them, may as well try joining them.
We don't have to be enemies, do we? Hey, we are all on the side of the law.
' And besides, there was a doubt.
Bullshit.
He's as guilty as sin.
Jury didn't think so.
MCEWAN: You ever ask him if he actually did it? Shit, no.
That's the last thing you want to know, if think you're going to do the best for them.
I might get you to visit our little watering hole and explain that principle sometime.
Sure.
They've got a name for you in the police bar now, you know - Oh, yeah? - Bungles.
Bungles? - GREIG: Bungles.
- [GLASSES CLINK.]
[BAGPIPES PLAYING.]
I'm sorry about the racket, Trish.
And I'm sorry I couldn't help personally.
No, of course, Mike.
I just wanted a recommendation.
Well, I'm sure Shirley will be able to help.
And it's probably easier that it's a woman, you know.
- Thank you.
- And, Trish.
You know, if you do need to talk, anytime.
Or David.
Him and I are going to remain friends, you know.
- You and I will, too, I hope.
- Yeah, I'd like that.
We should have a coffee when the dust settles.
Dinner, perhaps.
I'd like that.
[DOOR CREAKS, CLOSES.]
What? The marital bed's not even cold.
Oh, you really do have a low opinion of me, don't you? You know, the Walkleys happen to be very, very good friends of mine.
She was the one who suggested dinner.
- What is that fucking noise? - The Police Pipe Band.
They're practicing across the road.
Yeah, well, I hope they can read better than they can bloody play.
'Cause I'm going to write a bloody complaint! Gus is short for Angus, Bungles.
Assistant Commissioner Angus Sharp.
He's not going to like you expressing your displeasure.
Gus loves a pipe band.
That's because it doesn't practice outside his window, probably.
All I did was suggest to the drum major that he rehearse in the middle of the harbor.
Yes, and you suggested it in a letter, which may be used against you.
Did you see his response? He bloody threatened me.
[CHUCKLES.]
"I will convey your message and car registration number to all members of the NZ Police Highland Pipe Band.
" Which includes Jock Latimer, by the way, your biggest fan.
Great.
They'll all have it in for me now.
You know, issuing me with parking tickets is turning into a national bloody sport in this place.
Well, maybe some members of the rank don't appreciate you going into bat for the bloody gangs, Bungles.
Oh, piss off, Dooner.
I do defend the odd civilian, as well, you know.
And anyway, I don't have a choice about who I represent.
Not when it's via legal aid.
Then there's the moral question.
DOONE: Moral?! What's moral about defending those bastards? They only belong to the gangs so they can do whatever they bloody well like.
BUNGAY: "Belong," Dooner.
That's the key word.
And sometimes they want to belong so much, they'll do pretty much anything.
- Yeah, yeah.
Rape, murder.
- Yep.
At which point you do your thing, and I do mine.
We let the law decide.
Yeah, and then the law gets it wrong half the bloody time.
BUNGAY: It's a lot less than that, I reckon.
And even if it does, you know, thank God we live in a country where there's room for those mistakes.
[MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYS, INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS.]
MAN: Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer.
Bungay, lawyer.
Must've hung up.
You Mike Bungay? Ian.
You have that look about you.
I honestly don't know how you've survived this long.
The odd drink helps.
You can't keep flouting the rules, Mike.
You know we're not allowed to tout.
Tout? I haven't touted since I lived rough in Soho.
"Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer" is touting, isn't it? No.
That's my secretary trying to get hold of me.
You don't have a bloody secretary.
Look, it was an understandable trick when you were starting out, but now? We can manage without it, can't we? I don't know.
I'll have to ask my secretary.
[LAUGHING.]
MAN: Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer.
Mike Bungay, lawyer.
Excuse me.
You're a lawyer? For my sins, Beverley, yeah, I am.
You know, bugger it.
They can wait till I get back to work.
I would much rather stay and talk to you.
[BOTH CHUCKLE.]
[BOTH LAUGHING.]
[TELEPHONE RINGING.]
Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer.
The home phone.
God, I should get this one.
Usually means it's an emergency.
Stay here, stay here.
You're the instructing, Tim.
If the client wants Mike, he wants Mike.
What's he bloody well up to? I don't know.
He phoned me.
Told me to get you down here instead.
Well, maybe he'll explain himself to me.
Piles up in the end.
Your head fills with all the wrong pictures.
I'm not sure I'm going to be able to give this particular client my best, Ian.
You're going to have to take this one.
Mike, the client's asked for you.
Fuck the client.
[CRYING.]
[BREATHING HEAVILY.]
Mr.
Miet, you said in your statement to the police - [SCREAMING.]
- Fuck up! Fill it up! that he said, um, "No hero acts.
" Yes.
WICKLIFFE: Fill it, bitch! So, it wasn't, "Don't try anything"? I think he said, "No hero acts.
" You think? Think? Well, what do you think happened next? [INDISTINCT SHOUTING, WOMAN SCREAMING.]
MIET: I hadn't really seen the gun.
So I jumped across to the door.
Fill it! BUNGAY: You didn't fire the gun? WICKLIFFE: No.
It had all gone wrong.
I just wanted to get out of there, but I was stuck inside.
I was half turned before the younger bloke knocked me into the door frame and the gun went off.
[GUNSHOT, BELL JINGLES.]
- Come here! - What made the gun go off? WICKLIFFE: I assume it was the impact with the door.
[GRUNTING.]
WICKLIFFE: I only took the gun to scare them.
BUNGAY: Then why was it loaded? WICKLIFFE: As a precaution, in case something went wrong.
[SHOUTING.]
If the gun was merely a precaution, why was your finger on the trigger? Somebody Somebody call an ambulance! An ambulance! Paul! Paul! Did you squeeze the trigger in reaction to being hit by Mr.
Miet? WICKLIFFE: I never squeezed the trigger.
Aah! The question is, did Dean Wickliffe go to that jewelry store with the intent to injure or kill? We all do stupid things.
Fail to consider outcomes, for whatever reason.
Thoughtlessness, stupidity.
All of us do unintended things.
But if my client didn't have intent, then you must bring in the verdict of manslaughter.
Eight rounds in the magazine, the safety catch off? If Wickliffe had merely intended to use the weapon to frighten and intimidate, then surely there was no need for any ammunition at all.
I thought you were supposed to be the best.
Well, the jury did appeal for clemency.
Big of them.
You got me off that burg in Plimmerton four years back.
Good behavior, embrace of the church.
So how was this so bloody different? Well, Dean, there was an element of humor to that one.
You nicked $500, and when the wheel fell off your stolen getaway car, you got caught 'cause you hitched a ride with a police officer.
Maybe the jury thought that was funny.
There's not too much to laugh at in this one.
A man's dead.
You can appeal, of course.
Or escape.
And then, hey, watch out.
- [IMITATES GUNSHOT.]
- [SCOFFS.]
[UP-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYS.]
Ohhhh! Don't walk away Jimmy! - Hey.
- Jimmy! - I heard you were in town.
- Mike.
You're here? How's sunny Napier? - Sunny.
- Hey.
Hey, what? You're not staying with me and Bev this time? Oh, we're just down for a sentencing hearing.
Oh, John Bentley, Mike Bungay.
Mm.
Uh, no.
There's blood on these hands.
You get the papers up there? You read about Wickliffe going for life, huh? Yeah, we had heard.
Yeah.
[SPITS.]
Ugh! Pimm's? Fucking hell.
You get prosecuted in here for that.
Hey, Basil! Three large Johnnie Walkers, Black Label.
Black Label! John doesn't actually drink whiskey.
What's the sentencing hearing? Rape.
Look, we won't have any drinks.
We're just out for a late meal, okay? No, no, don't do that.
It'll soak up all the whiskey.
Look, this one.
This one, see over there, mate? - She needs a partner.
- Hey, Mike.
Hey! Jimmy, eh? Known him since the "A to E" queue.
Law enrollments, Vic, '57.
The days of Rosemary, eh? It's Bev now.
You and Bev get on like the proverbial house on fire, eh, Jimmy? But you, you see, you missed the salient point.
"A to E" queue? O'Donovan? The "O" is a late addition, see? Just to prove that he's still a Fenian bastard! [LAUGHS.]
Oh, I'll take that! Thank you! Hey, ladies! You need some terpsichorean instruction.
I know we have so much Come here, you beautiful thing! Yeah, that's the way! [LAUGHS.]
Come on, John.
Dinner.
When he's like this, nobody can control him.
[CLOCK TICKING.]
[MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYING.]
It's just a dance, you see? It's just a dance! [LAUGHS.]
She's so wooden.
I'll have to get her legless.
[LAUGHTER.]
- Hey, Mike.
- Hey, fuck off.
Fuck off.
Fuck off! [EXPLOSIONS, SIREN WAILING.]
We should be in the shelter! It is not fair on the kids.
I'm buggered if I'm going to let Adolf bleeding Hitler drive me from me own home.
[EXPLOSION.]
[GRUNTS.]
I love you, Mikey.
You're not sending me away.
You're just keeping me safe.
That's right, too.
Shoelaces, Mikey.
Shit.
The bloody government pays me naught to look after you.
The least you could do is learn to tie your own blanken shoelaces! Maybe I could show you how to do your shoelaces.
If you're a good boy.
Jim, it's Mike.
I need you to come and get me.
It's quarter past 2:00, to be accurate.
I'm being held at Central.
Ha ha.
No, really, this is Jim! Jim! [EXHALES DEEPLY.]
You know, he's lucky the cops called me this morning.
It pays to drink with them.
Do they have to charge him? No choice.
He smashed up the place.
I'm sorry.
I managed to get them to convene at 9:00 instead of 10:00.
BUNGAY: Lazy buggers, these magistrates.
You spoken to Bev? She'll be worried or annoyed or both.
- Who have we got? - Scully.
Scully? Don't think I've pissed him off yet.
And you won't now.
If you want to keep your practicing certificate, you'll say exactly as I tell you.
[BUNGAY CLEARS THROAT.]
I am deeply remorseful, Your Worship.
All I can say is I succumbed to the stresses of work.
Police are content for this matter to be dealt with now? Yes, they are, Your Worship.
I find the accused guilty of the charge of disorderly behavior and order him to make restitution in full for any damage caused.
I'll expect to see an itemized account.
I also impose a fine of $50.
I shan't, at this stage, enter a conviction.
- But, Mr.
Bungay.
- Yes, Your Worship? Behave yourself.
I promise.
DYB, DYB, DYB.
Oh, Trish.
Oh.
[BREATHING HEAVILY.]
Do you think this is a good idea after all this time? You know, I think it just might be, after a bit more.
Time.
Time, that is.
Still, promised that I'd be good.
Oh, you were, Mike.
Very good.
[BOTH LAUGH.]
[CRASH.]
Jim.
Jim, you all right? Yeah, no, I'm fine.
I just bumped my head.
Where's Mike? You guys okay? We're fine.
What happened? - [SIREN WAILING.]
- Tiny error of judgment.
Look, I'm sorry.
I'll see you at the house Don't incriminate yourselves.
Save me a chip.
[KNOCK ON DOOR.]
Maybe that's him.
Thanks for heating these up, Beverley.
This is great.
Now the bloody cops think I'm lying.
But we're not.
We didn't know what happened.
Where's Bungay? - CASTLE: He's not here.
- Check the rooms.
- You can't actually do that.
- LATIMER: Yes, we can.
She invited us to.
She's not being obstructive.
- Neither are we.
- Where is he? We don't know.
BUNGAY: Here I am! Dad? Oh, good evening, Senior Sergeant Latimer.
[CHUCKLES.]
Still playing the wee bagpipes, are we? Ooh, aye.
I'll pipe you into court, Bungay.
This is going to cost you.
Drunk driving, leaving the scene of an accident? I don't imagine the Law Society will be too impressed, do you? Well, don't suppose they would, no.
So it's a good job I wasn't drunk at the time.
- You're still as drunk as a m - Uh, uh.
I admit to the accident and leaving the scene.
But I was confused.
I may have a concussion.
My fiancée's father, Mr.
Young Fiancée? He attended to my injuries, you see, gave me some brandy for the shock.
You know, maybe a little too much brandy, as it seems.
Hey, Zack, thank you, Dad, for driving me home.
See, it's that "burden of proof" thing again, isn't it, Senior Sergeant, huh? It's a bugger of a wee thing.
[LAUGHS.]
Oh, here, thank you.
Flowers belong in gardens or in vases, not on suits! It's a flower.
It's not the whole bloody bouquet! I'll look like a harvest-fucking-festival float! It's our special day, darling! Put it on! That pricked me! There's no blood! You want blood?! Oh! That's assault! Then arrest me! With pleasure.
[DIALING.]
Let me understand this.
Charges have been preferred, but the victim now declines to give evidence.
Yes, Your Worship.
She doesn't wish to proceed.
The police have informed her it's not now up to her, and I've informed her that it's at your discretion.
I see.
And you are representing yourself, Mr.
Bungay? I am, Your Worship.
I can't wait.
Assault is a serious charge.
It is, Your Worship, even accidental.
Stresses of work again, was it? More wedding-day nerves.
A storm in a teacup.
Well, more an ashtray.
He doesn't like flowers on a man.
I insisted.
He, uh, threw an ashtray.
Not at me, exactly.
It It just arced.
Aluminium.
Light.
Unforgivable, of course.
But I have, however, apologized, and she has forgiven me.
I think.
I have.
And as you can see, Your Worship, we're still getting married.
In 20 minutes, if it please the court.
["WEDDING MARCH" PLAYS.]
[CHEERING.]
Free champagne, darling! Come on! Ian, the happy couple made it in time the other week? They did, sir.
Thank you.
You know, I have a very nice rug in my chambers, Persian.
But it's only so big.
You can't keep asking me to sweep things under it.
No, sir.
Thank you.
Personally, I like the man.
He's become a fine advocate.
But there are those in favor of putting a stop to his excesses.
I suggest you distance yourself, Ian, before that rug gets pulled.
It's still a fucking dive.
So what are we drinking here for? Wanted to get you alone.
GREIG: No witnesses.
Ah.
Court's in session, is it? Look, Mike, uh You've finally got what you want now, so BUNGAY: I have? Wow.
What's that? A wife.
A place together.
And you've built a promising career.
Promising? Oh, dear.
But you keep pissing it up against the wall, Mike.
Look, you need to focus on what you're good at, - and what you're good at - I'm good at quite a few things.
I entertain.
Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mike Bungay, and I appear for the money.
- [LAUGHTER.]
- Uh, the defense.
I've had the odd nod of approval in the sack.
[MOANING.]
GREIG: But you can't keep sleeping around and have a decent marriage.
And you can't keep thumbing your nose at everyone and have a decent career.
I have so far.
Career, that is.
God's sake! It's hopeless.
Bloody hopeless.
Just let him drown it all in booze.
Hey, Ian, you drown in water, not booze.
But that's how you deal with it, Mike! Look, we all have our demons.
Oh, yeah? You show me yours, I'll show you mine.
Graves, shoelaces.
People you think you've helped graduating to fucking murder.
You have helped people, a lot of them the right ones.
And there'll be a lot more, too.
If you manage to stick around.
I'll stick around, all right, on my own terms.
I am who I am.
You want me to behave myself? - [GLASS THUDS.]
- You can go get stuffed! They're right.
You can't go on like this! - Why not? - Because we can't.
Because I am sick of waiting, like everybody else, for things to change.
It's cold dinners.
It's a cold bed.
It's Trish Walkley.
You tell me about her, Mike.
Don't ask me about that.
Why not? It's too hard? It's too confronting? Because I won't lie and I don't want to hurt you.
Silence is a lie.
Not in my world.
Yes, it's your world because it is all about you, isn't it? Huh? Aah! Go on.
Now you can smoke yourself to death! [TELEPHONE RINGING.]
Bungay.
Michael.
It's Shirley Smith.
I'm sorry to call you at this hour.
Shirley, what's wrong? It's my husband, Bill.
He's been arrested for spying.
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Sorry, Mike.
- I just can't keep - No, no.
But what if I promise to be good? - Look, Mike - I can't afford not to be now.
Okay.
I've just been handed a very tricky, very high profile case.
Bill Sutch? Christ, he was head of our delegation to U.
N.
He was.
He's ex-Secretary of Industry and bloody Commerce.
Current Chairman of the Arts Council! This is huge.
There's never been a spy trial in New Zealand before.
The Official Secrets Act.
The Solicitor bloody General prosecuting.
So not a great time to be parting ways.
[SCOFFS.]
No, this is the exact time to be parting ways.
I don't want to be on the bus with you when you drive it over a cliff.
Which is why I capitulate.
I join the ranks of the Gray.
Behave.
Not a drop will pass my lips till the trial is done.
I promise.
Just don't turn it into a bloody circus.
[SIGHS.]
Roll up, roll up.
All the fun of the fair.
[KEYS JINGLING.]
[LOCK CLICKS.]
There you go, Constable.
Thank you.
Lilian, you are, as His Honor says, free to go.
You can thank me later.
[DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS.]
BUNGAY: None of us can escape our personal histories.
Some of us are lucky enough to be sustained by our upbringings.
Ah! BUNGAY: Some of us find ways to rise above them.
That's it.
That's the last time you hit me, okay? It wasn't Roly's fault, Dad! He didn't mean to break nothing.
You'll never amount to nothing.
Don't you hurt him.
You can't even read or write proper.
- Let me out! - [BANGING ON DOOR.]
Then there are those, of course, who fail entirely to shake off the hard lessons of their upbringings.
With that in mind, we must accept that we cannot judge this man without making judgment to what brought him to this point, the things that he's never had, the road that he's been forced to take, the blows that life has dealt him.
COACH: Watch him! Mike! You look like a bull at a gate! Yes.
It was his intent to steal.
He stole again, straight after coming out of jail.
COACH: All right! All right! That'll do! That's enough, lads! That'll do! - BUNGAY: And why? - Bungay! I said that's enough! Because he knew no other way.
But now? Now he's in the care of Reverend Borrie.
Now he does have a kind of family, some real alternatives.
The question is, are we prepared to give him a chance to get back on his feet? Jesus, Private.
It's a sparring match, not a world title fight.
Don't see any point in sparring.
There's every point! You could box for your country if you put your mind to it.
Where'd you learn to fight like that? There you go.
Somebody gives it to you, Mikey, you give it right back.
Here.
Block.
The old one-two, eh? WICKLIFFE: Like you said, family.
I like that.
Part of a family.
BUNGAY: Family.
Wow.
- Sorry.
- "Sorry" wasn't exactly what I was hoping for.
No, I didn't mean th I mean I meant I only just got out of the Marines.
I hadn't really planned on a family.
Well, maybe family planning should've been higher on our list, then, eh? I'm 10 weeks, give or take.
Right.
Better get a job, then.
Look for a ring, else my dad'll murder you.
Trained killer or not.
We'll manage.
You'll see.
New Zealand.
They swim in the sea at Christmas, don't they? Wouldn't mind living somewhere warm.
BUNGAY: We've all made decisions in the heat of the moment.
- And when the outcome is unexpected, - we often discover it's too late to turn back.
All we can do is try to make the best of it.
Ooooh! Ah.
Fucking freezing out there.
Mike, don't swear in front of Robyn.
And it is November.
That's their summer here, Rosemary.
And it is jolly cold.
So are the chips.
Think they might need warming up.
They're moving me to Trentham.
ROSEMARY: What? You'll be going without me and Robyn, then.
We're not going anywhere.
We've just settled in here.
I said "me", anyway, love, not "us".
It's a base.
How can you really judge any man even if you and I make the best of the challenges that life throws at us? For want of dumb luck, we could fail.
What we all fear is that we will be found out, that the emperor has no clothes.
We'll all be standing in the street exposed and naked.
I was wondering if I could get posted back to Wellie, sir.
Compassionate grounds.
It's a family matter.
We're having another baby, sir.
I don't make decisions about postings, Corporal.
You have your orders.
In my experience, sir, orders in the New Zealand Army tend to be more along the lines of a topic for discussion.
You were posted in England initially.
Driving, sir.
Had our first kid there.
You seem a bit too smart to have just been driving.
Bit too smart for my own good sometimes, sir.
There may be a way for you to spend more time in Wellington.
If you enrolled at university, say.
The army's prepared to educate its men, if they are prepared to work hard.
University? Never quite got my "A" levels, sir.
MAN: And you don't need our equivalent, Bungay, not now you're enlisted, BUNGAY: There's no big difference between the criminal mind and yours and mine.
We see opportunities, we take them.
Sometimes our choices work out and we find we're great at what we end up doing, even if we're not like everyone else around us.
Just checking.
"A to E" is for names, right, not subjects.
Yeah.
Names.
Surnames.
Better be.
I'm enrolling in law.
Oh.
Right.
I've had a bit to do with the law myself.
OFFICER: Oi! Stop! Get back here! [WHISTLE BLOWS.]
Right.
Um, you're studying, too, law? Law.
Accountancy.
Doesn't much matter if you're gonna crash and burn anyway, does it? That's not the right attitude.
Eye on the prize, mate.
You got a coin? Even bet.
Heads, accountancy.
Tails, law.
- [COIN CLINKS.]
- You're serious? Why not? Well, law takes a lot longer.
Ah.
Well no.
Still, a bet's a bet.
Tails.
Bugger.
- So, here I am.
- You be the judge.
This is a woman who, after years of torment and abuse, finally said, "Enough!" She finally raised her hand and said, "Stop! You're not going to do this to me anymore.
" She defended herself and her children.
And then she rang the police and she told them what she'd done.
Murderer? Oh, dear, no.
I wouldn't call her that.
And neither should you.
[INDISTINCT TALKING.]
Gentlemen.
Outrageous.
- The verdict? - The brown shoes.
[BUNGAY WHISTLING.]
[KEYS JINGLING.]
[LOCK CLICKS.]
There you go, Constable.
Thank you.
Lilian, you are, as His Honor says, free to go.
It was lucky I took off my glasses.
Life for murder, seven, eight years for manslaughter.
You get her off completely, and she punches you? - That's out-bloody-rageous.
- Hil-bloody-arious.
Is it broken? Last time I had a broken nose, I was boxing for Britain.
- Oh, boxing, here we go.
- You never boxed for Britain.
That poor woman insisted all along she should be punished.
So I suppose she thought I had it coming.
I was expecting manslaughter.
It was the jury who found her innocent.
Oh, yeah, nothing to do with you at all, Mike.
Go her for assault, Mike.
I think she's been through enough, don't you, Jim? What's his name again? Bundy? Bungay.
He was stuck conveyancing out in Lower Hutt till a year ago.
Impossible, apparently.
Kept waiving fees for little old ladies.
Drove his solicitor mad.
And now here he is, making your life difficult.
Not for much longer, I should imagine.
Far too much the show pony for his own good.
[SNEEZING.]
Challenge.
The juror is excused.
No, no, Your Honor.
I didn't challenge.
- You said, "Challenge.
" - No, I-I snoze a sneeze.
I can assure Your Honor I wouldn't waste my final challenge on a juror who quite clearly understands the implications of the aging process in a case such as this.
The juror is excused.
The empanelment of the jury is not a game of musical chairs, Mr.
Bungay, nor is it an opportunity for you to advance the case for the defense.
As Your Honor pleases.
[SNEEZES.]
You ought to leave that crappy office of yours and come in with me, Mike.
Much better class of client.
They don't smack you on the nose.
- Usually.
- Yeah.
You never know.
Women and crims Predictably unpredictable.
And besides, Ian, I can't just up stakes.
I still owe the 50 quid I borrowed to set up that crappy office.
Unless, of course, you want to cover it.
Ah.
No.
- Hello.
- Hey, forget it, Mike.
You've got no show with that schnoz.
Hey, predictably unpredictable.
[BOTH MOANING, BREATHING HEAVILY.]
Uh! [BREATHING HEAVILY.]
You're a very beautiful girl.
And I didn't lie.
I am unattached.
I was, though married.
Nope.
It's a holiday, Mike.
BUNGAY: What you want to go on holiday to England for? Because I miss it! I miss England.
I miss my family.
BUNGAY: We're a family, aren't we? ROSEMARY: No, we aren't.
'Cause you're always studying and you're never here.
BUNGAY: I'm about to bloody graduate.
She left.
Took the kids back to England on holiday.
Never came back home.
Fucking graduation present.
[DOG BARKING.]
Bruno! Bruno! Sit.
- [DOG WHIMPERS.]
- Ah, you bloody dog.
ROSEMARY: It's not going to change, is it? Because now you'll just be working all the time! BUNGAY: I loved her and the girls.
I really think I fucked it up.
This has been a sad affair.
It's not been the job of the defense to dispute the fact that the victim was, as the Crown perhaps a bit too vividly described, viciously beaten.
We don't dispute that fact.
Nope.
But guess what.
It is also a fact that you are required, beyond reasonable doubt, to be convinced that it was our client who was the person who delivered that beating.
Now, may I remind you he was identified by a witness who was, at night, as far away as, say the back of the courtroom is from you now.
Suspicion, ladies and gentlemen, no matter how grave, is never sufficient.
AATA: Whoo-hoo-hoo! - So what now? - Now we got to get out of here.
I told you.
I said to you, didn't I? I said Wait.
Next time.
Bungay, tell me, do you own a ruler? I think I've got a couple somewhere, Mr.
Larsen.
Why? Do you want to borrow one? Just a demonstration, perhaps.
You know if you hold it in both hands and you bend it, gently and then harder and harder, eventually it'll snap.
[CHUCKLES.]
Oh, really? I do like a good metaphor.
You also like De Bretts, I've noticed, which is good, because you owe me a drink.
[BOTH CHUCKLE.]
One day, some villain will do something to you or yours, and some smartass lawyer will get them off on a technicality.
Shaky identification is hardly a technicality.
Burden of proof, Senior Sergeant Latimer.
Burden of proof.
OLDFIELD: Six years I've had to put up with that buffoon's stunts.
A word from the chief justice might help.
From me? I doubt it.
Criminal Bar, isn't he? Yes, not always on the right side of it.
In my court, at least, a bit of decorum's mandatory.
Well, you have the remit to demand it, Lionel.
And I'll exercise it if he keeps testing my patience.
[INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS, MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYS.]
[COINS CLATTER.]
Johnnie Walker Black Label.
That do you, Mr.
Larsen? Eh, excellent.
Glad you can afford it.
I hear His Honor set remuneration at tariff two.
Annoy him, did you? Not with my defense.
More the brown shoes, I think.
The old bastard.
Anyway, you enjoy the drink, Jim.
I will, Mike.
Kissed some backside, did you? [LAUGHS.]
Kick it, then kiss it.
He's much happier now that he knows my legal aid rate got reduced.
He'll get over it.
But will the victim's family? Oh.
- McEwan.
Stuart.
- Ian Greig.
How are you? - MCEWAN: Detective Inspector.
- Yeah, we know, we know.
Fishing in the muddy bits, are you? Well, I figured if you're consistently being beaten by them, may as well try joining them.
We don't have to be enemies, do we? Hey, we are all on the side of the law.
' And besides, there was a doubt.
Bullshit.
He's as guilty as sin.
Jury didn't think so.
MCEWAN: You ever ask him if he actually did it? Shit, no.
That's the last thing you want to know, if think you're going to do the best for them.
I might get you to visit our little watering hole and explain that principle sometime.
Sure.
They've got a name for you in the police bar now, you know - Oh, yeah? - Bungles.
Bungles? - GREIG: Bungles.
- [GLASSES CLINK.]
[BAGPIPES PLAYING.]
I'm sorry about the racket, Trish.
And I'm sorry I couldn't help personally.
No, of course, Mike.
I just wanted a recommendation.
Well, I'm sure Shirley will be able to help.
And it's probably easier that it's a woman, you know.
- Thank you.
- And, Trish.
You know, if you do need to talk, anytime.
Or David.
Him and I are going to remain friends, you know.
- You and I will, too, I hope.
- Yeah, I'd like that.
We should have a coffee when the dust settles.
Dinner, perhaps.
I'd like that.
[DOOR CREAKS, CLOSES.]
What? The marital bed's not even cold.
Oh, you really do have a low opinion of me, don't you? You know, the Walkleys happen to be very, very good friends of mine.
She was the one who suggested dinner.
- What is that fucking noise? - The Police Pipe Band.
They're practicing across the road.
Yeah, well, I hope they can read better than they can bloody play.
'Cause I'm going to write a bloody complaint! Gus is short for Angus, Bungles.
Assistant Commissioner Angus Sharp.
He's not going to like you expressing your displeasure.
Gus loves a pipe band.
That's because it doesn't practice outside his window, probably.
All I did was suggest to the drum major that he rehearse in the middle of the harbor.
Yes, and you suggested it in a letter, which may be used against you.
Did you see his response? He bloody threatened me.
[CHUCKLES.]
"I will convey your message and car registration number to all members of the NZ Police Highland Pipe Band.
" Which includes Jock Latimer, by the way, your biggest fan.
Great.
They'll all have it in for me now.
You know, issuing me with parking tickets is turning into a national bloody sport in this place.
Well, maybe some members of the rank don't appreciate you going into bat for the bloody gangs, Bungles.
Oh, piss off, Dooner.
I do defend the odd civilian, as well, you know.
And anyway, I don't have a choice about who I represent.
Not when it's via legal aid.
Then there's the moral question.
DOONE: Moral?! What's moral about defending those bastards? They only belong to the gangs so they can do whatever they bloody well like.
BUNGAY: "Belong," Dooner.
That's the key word.
And sometimes they want to belong so much, they'll do pretty much anything.
- Yeah, yeah.
Rape, murder.
- Yep.
At which point you do your thing, and I do mine.
We let the law decide.
Yeah, and then the law gets it wrong half the bloody time.
BUNGAY: It's a lot less than that, I reckon.
And even if it does, you know, thank God we live in a country where there's room for those mistakes.
[MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYS, INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS.]
MAN: Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer.
Bungay, lawyer.
Must've hung up.
You Mike Bungay? Ian.
You have that look about you.
I honestly don't know how you've survived this long.
The odd drink helps.
You can't keep flouting the rules, Mike.
You know we're not allowed to tout.
Tout? I haven't touted since I lived rough in Soho.
"Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer" is touting, isn't it? No.
That's my secretary trying to get hold of me.
You don't have a bloody secretary.
Look, it was an understandable trick when you were starting out, but now? We can manage without it, can't we? I don't know.
I'll have to ask my secretary.
[LAUGHING.]
MAN: Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer.
Mike Bungay, lawyer.
Excuse me.
You're a lawyer? For my sins, Beverley, yeah, I am.
You know, bugger it.
They can wait till I get back to work.
I would much rather stay and talk to you.
[BOTH CHUCKLE.]
[BOTH LAUGHING.]
[TELEPHONE RINGING.]
Paging Mike Bungay, lawyer.
The home phone.
God, I should get this one.
Usually means it's an emergency.
Stay here, stay here.
You're the instructing, Tim.
If the client wants Mike, he wants Mike.
What's he bloody well up to? I don't know.
He phoned me.
Told me to get you down here instead.
Well, maybe he'll explain himself to me.
Piles up in the end.
Your head fills with all the wrong pictures.
I'm not sure I'm going to be able to give this particular client my best, Ian.
You're going to have to take this one.
Mike, the client's asked for you.
Fuck the client.
[CRYING.]
[BREATHING HEAVILY.]
Mr.
Miet, you said in your statement to the police - [SCREAMING.]
- Fuck up! Fill it up! that he said, um, "No hero acts.
" Yes.
WICKLIFFE: Fill it, bitch! So, it wasn't, "Don't try anything"? I think he said, "No hero acts.
" You think? Think? Well, what do you think happened next? [INDISTINCT SHOUTING, WOMAN SCREAMING.]
MIET: I hadn't really seen the gun.
So I jumped across to the door.
Fill it! BUNGAY: You didn't fire the gun? WICKLIFFE: No.
It had all gone wrong.
I just wanted to get out of there, but I was stuck inside.
I was half turned before the younger bloke knocked me into the door frame and the gun went off.
[GUNSHOT, BELL JINGLES.]
- Come here! - What made the gun go off? WICKLIFFE: I assume it was the impact with the door.
[GRUNTING.]
WICKLIFFE: I only took the gun to scare them.
BUNGAY: Then why was it loaded? WICKLIFFE: As a precaution, in case something went wrong.
[SHOUTING.]
If the gun was merely a precaution, why was your finger on the trigger? Somebody Somebody call an ambulance! An ambulance! Paul! Paul! Did you squeeze the trigger in reaction to being hit by Mr.
Miet? WICKLIFFE: I never squeezed the trigger.
Aah! The question is, did Dean Wickliffe go to that jewelry store with the intent to injure or kill? We all do stupid things.
Fail to consider outcomes, for whatever reason.
Thoughtlessness, stupidity.
All of us do unintended things.
But if my client didn't have intent, then you must bring in the verdict of manslaughter.
Eight rounds in the magazine, the safety catch off? If Wickliffe had merely intended to use the weapon to frighten and intimidate, then surely there was no need for any ammunition at all.
I thought you were supposed to be the best.
Well, the jury did appeal for clemency.
Big of them.
You got me off that burg in Plimmerton four years back.
Good behavior, embrace of the church.
So how was this so bloody different? Well, Dean, there was an element of humor to that one.
You nicked $500, and when the wheel fell off your stolen getaway car, you got caught 'cause you hitched a ride with a police officer.
Maybe the jury thought that was funny.
There's not too much to laugh at in this one.
A man's dead.
You can appeal, of course.
Or escape.
And then, hey, watch out.
- [IMITATES GUNSHOT.]
- [SCOFFS.]
[UP-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYS.]
Ohhhh! Don't walk away Jimmy! - Hey.
- Jimmy! - I heard you were in town.
- Mike.
You're here? How's sunny Napier? - Sunny.
- Hey.
Hey, what? You're not staying with me and Bev this time? Oh, we're just down for a sentencing hearing.
Oh, John Bentley, Mike Bungay.
Mm.
Uh, no.
There's blood on these hands.
You get the papers up there? You read about Wickliffe going for life, huh? Yeah, we had heard.
Yeah.
[SPITS.]
Ugh! Pimm's? Fucking hell.
You get prosecuted in here for that.
Hey, Basil! Three large Johnnie Walkers, Black Label.
Black Label! John doesn't actually drink whiskey.
What's the sentencing hearing? Rape.
Look, we won't have any drinks.
We're just out for a late meal, okay? No, no, don't do that.
It'll soak up all the whiskey.
Look, this one.
This one, see over there, mate? - She needs a partner.
- Hey, Mike.
Hey! Jimmy, eh? Known him since the "A to E" queue.
Law enrollments, Vic, '57.
The days of Rosemary, eh? It's Bev now.
You and Bev get on like the proverbial house on fire, eh, Jimmy? But you, you see, you missed the salient point.
"A to E" queue? O'Donovan? The "O" is a late addition, see? Just to prove that he's still a Fenian bastard! [LAUGHS.]
Oh, I'll take that! Thank you! Hey, ladies! You need some terpsichorean instruction.
I know we have so much Come here, you beautiful thing! Yeah, that's the way! [LAUGHS.]
Come on, John.
Dinner.
When he's like this, nobody can control him.
[CLOCK TICKING.]
[MID-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYING.]
It's just a dance, you see? It's just a dance! [LAUGHS.]
She's so wooden.
I'll have to get her legless.
[LAUGHTER.]
- Hey, Mike.
- Hey, fuck off.
Fuck off.
Fuck off! [EXPLOSIONS, SIREN WAILING.]
We should be in the shelter! It is not fair on the kids.
I'm buggered if I'm going to let Adolf bleeding Hitler drive me from me own home.
[EXPLOSION.]
[GRUNTS.]
I love you, Mikey.
You're not sending me away.
You're just keeping me safe.
That's right, too.
Shoelaces, Mikey.
Shit.
The bloody government pays me naught to look after you.
The least you could do is learn to tie your own blanken shoelaces! Maybe I could show you how to do your shoelaces.
If you're a good boy.
Jim, it's Mike.
I need you to come and get me.
It's quarter past 2:00, to be accurate.
I'm being held at Central.
Ha ha.
No, really, this is Jim! Jim! [EXHALES DEEPLY.]
You know, he's lucky the cops called me this morning.
It pays to drink with them.
Do they have to charge him? No choice.
He smashed up the place.
I'm sorry.
I managed to get them to convene at 9:00 instead of 10:00.
BUNGAY: Lazy buggers, these magistrates.
You spoken to Bev? She'll be worried or annoyed or both.
- Who have we got? - Scully.
Scully? Don't think I've pissed him off yet.
And you won't now.
If you want to keep your practicing certificate, you'll say exactly as I tell you.
[BUNGAY CLEARS THROAT.]
I am deeply remorseful, Your Worship.
All I can say is I succumbed to the stresses of work.
Police are content for this matter to be dealt with now? Yes, they are, Your Worship.
I find the accused guilty of the charge of disorderly behavior and order him to make restitution in full for any damage caused.
I'll expect to see an itemized account.
I also impose a fine of $50.
I shan't, at this stage, enter a conviction.
- But, Mr.
Bungay.
- Yes, Your Worship? Behave yourself.
I promise.
DYB, DYB, DYB.
Oh, Trish.
Oh.
[BREATHING HEAVILY.]
Do you think this is a good idea after all this time? You know, I think it just might be, after a bit more.
Time.
Time, that is.
Still, promised that I'd be good.
Oh, you were, Mike.
Very good.
[BOTH LAUGH.]
[CRASH.]
Jim.
Jim, you all right? Yeah, no, I'm fine.
I just bumped my head.
Where's Mike? You guys okay? We're fine.
What happened? - [SIREN WAILING.]
- Tiny error of judgment.
Look, I'm sorry.
I'll see you at the house Don't incriminate yourselves.
Save me a chip.
[KNOCK ON DOOR.]
Maybe that's him.
Thanks for heating these up, Beverley.
This is great.
Now the bloody cops think I'm lying.
But we're not.
We didn't know what happened.
Where's Bungay? - CASTLE: He's not here.
- Check the rooms.
- You can't actually do that.
- LATIMER: Yes, we can.
She invited us to.
She's not being obstructive.
- Neither are we.
- Where is he? We don't know.
BUNGAY: Here I am! Dad? Oh, good evening, Senior Sergeant Latimer.
[CHUCKLES.]
Still playing the wee bagpipes, are we? Ooh, aye.
I'll pipe you into court, Bungay.
This is going to cost you.
Drunk driving, leaving the scene of an accident? I don't imagine the Law Society will be too impressed, do you? Well, don't suppose they would, no.
So it's a good job I wasn't drunk at the time.
- You're still as drunk as a m - Uh, uh.
I admit to the accident and leaving the scene.
But I was confused.
I may have a concussion.
My fiancée's father, Mr.
Young Fiancée? He attended to my injuries, you see, gave me some brandy for the shock.
You know, maybe a little too much brandy, as it seems.
Hey, Zack, thank you, Dad, for driving me home.
See, it's that "burden of proof" thing again, isn't it, Senior Sergeant, huh? It's a bugger of a wee thing.
[LAUGHS.]
Oh, here, thank you.
Flowers belong in gardens or in vases, not on suits! It's a flower.
It's not the whole bloody bouquet! I'll look like a harvest-fucking-festival float! It's our special day, darling! Put it on! That pricked me! There's no blood! You want blood?! Oh! That's assault! Then arrest me! With pleasure.
[DIALING.]
Let me understand this.
Charges have been preferred, but the victim now declines to give evidence.
Yes, Your Worship.
She doesn't wish to proceed.
The police have informed her it's not now up to her, and I've informed her that it's at your discretion.
I see.
And you are representing yourself, Mr.
Bungay? I am, Your Worship.
I can't wait.
Assault is a serious charge.
It is, Your Worship, even accidental.
Stresses of work again, was it? More wedding-day nerves.
A storm in a teacup.
Well, more an ashtray.
He doesn't like flowers on a man.
I insisted.
He, uh, threw an ashtray.
Not at me, exactly.
It It just arced.
Aluminium.
Light.
Unforgivable, of course.
But I have, however, apologized, and she has forgiven me.
I think.
I have.
And as you can see, Your Worship, we're still getting married.
In 20 minutes, if it please the court.
["WEDDING MARCH" PLAYS.]
[CHEERING.]
Free champagne, darling! Come on! Ian, the happy couple made it in time the other week? They did, sir.
Thank you.
You know, I have a very nice rug in my chambers, Persian.
But it's only so big.
You can't keep asking me to sweep things under it.
No, sir.
Thank you.
Personally, I like the man.
He's become a fine advocate.
But there are those in favor of putting a stop to his excesses.
I suggest you distance yourself, Ian, before that rug gets pulled.
It's still a fucking dive.
So what are we drinking here for? Wanted to get you alone.
GREIG: No witnesses.
Ah.
Court's in session, is it? Look, Mike, uh You've finally got what you want now, so BUNGAY: I have? Wow.
What's that? A wife.
A place together.
And you've built a promising career.
Promising? Oh, dear.
But you keep pissing it up against the wall, Mike.
Look, you need to focus on what you're good at, - and what you're good at - I'm good at quite a few things.
I entertain.
Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mike Bungay, and I appear for the money.
- [LAUGHTER.]
- Uh, the defense.
I've had the odd nod of approval in the sack.
[MOANING.]
GREIG: But you can't keep sleeping around and have a decent marriage.
And you can't keep thumbing your nose at everyone and have a decent career.
I have so far.
Career, that is.
God's sake! It's hopeless.
Bloody hopeless.
Just let him drown it all in booze.
Hey, Ian, you drown in water, not booze.
But that's how you deal with it, Mike! Look, we all have our demons.
Oh, yeah? You show me yours, I'll show you mine.
Graves, shoelaces.
People you think you've helped graduating to fucking murder.
You have helped people, a lot of them the right ones.
And there'll be a lot more, too.
If you manage to stick around.
I'll stick around, all right, on my own terms.
I am who I am.
You want me to behave myself? - [GLASS THUDS.]
- You can go get stuffed! They're right.
You can't go on like this! - Why not? - Because we can't.
Because I am sick of waiting, like everybody else, for things to change.
It's cold dinners.
It's a cold bed.
It's Trish Walkley.
You tell me about her, Mike.
Don't ask me about that.
Why not? It's too hard? It's too confronting? Because I won't lie and I don't want to hurt you.
Silence is a lie.
Not in my world.
Yes, it's your world because it is all about you, isn't it? Huh? Aah! Go on.
Now you can smoke yourself to death! [TELEPHONE RINGING.]
Bungay.
Michael.
It's Shirley Smith.
I'm sorry to call you at this hour.
Shirley, what's wrong? It's my husband, Bill.
He's been arrested for spying.
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Sorry, Mike.
- I just can't keep - No, no.
But what if I promise to be good? - Look, Mike - I can't afford not to be now.
Okay.
I've just been handed a very tricky, very high profile case.
Bill Sutch? Christ, he was head of our delegation to U.
N.
He was.
He's ex-Secretary of Industry and bloody Commerce.
Current Chairman of the Arts Council! This is huge.
There's never been a spy trial in New Zealand before.
The Official Secrets Act.
The Solicitor bloody General prosecuting.
So not a great time to be parting ways.
[SCOFFS.]
No, this is the exact time to be parting ways.
I don't want to be on the bus with you when you drive it over a cliff.
Which is why I capitulate.
I join the ranks of the Gray.
Behave.
Not a drop will pass my lips till the trial is done.
I promise.
Just don't turn it into a bloody circus.
[SIGHS.]
Roll up, roll up.
All the fun of the fair.