Remember Ronald Ryan (3 page)

I'll get it going for you, lady. Give me the keys. Hop out.

LADY
: Jesus, how long since you've had a bath?

RYAN
: Get out of the vehicle. I'm not joking.

LADY
: I just paid this off. Why don't you save up and buy your own vehicle?

RYAN
: I'm warning you, lady. We are committed.

LADY
: You ought to be. What's wrong with it? Not the starter motor, is it?

RYAN
: It's a bugger when they play up, isn't it? Got enough oil?

LADY
: You don't worry about oil.

RYAN
: Don't you? Get out of the car.

LADY
: Just piss off, will you please? I can't hear it start up. I paid a year's salary for this Austin 1800. Now look at it. Useless! Why do we bother?

RYAN
: What'd you do with the old Salvo bloke?

LADY
: I didn't do anything with him. What'd you do with him?

WALKER
: [
upstage, out of puff, shouting
] Chucked him over a wall near a church. I've tried the visitors' carpark, Ronnie. Nothing to hot-wire. A Simca Aronde with a flat battery. A silver Jap motor scooter up on bricks.

RYAN
: [
to the
LADY
] Get out or I'll shoot you. Is that plain enough? Come on. Give us a go.

RYAN
stands over the
LADY
in the car and threatens her again with the rifle right on her forehead.

LADY
: I've just told you I just purchased this as-new vehicle. If you want to, shoot me, because you can't obtain a decent job and save up, scrimp and save up, go without, just as I have, to boast a decent vehicle to get from Point A to Point B, then fire.

WALKER
: C'mon, Ronnie. Come on.

LADY
: I will not give you my vehicle. It's mine. Not yours. Do you understand me?! That is the end of the matter!

WALKER
: [
screaming from upstage, apparently wounded
] Jesus, them sheilas from Preston, aren't they stubborn?

Sirens loudly; traffic loudly; kids playing gently in nearby school ground. School church bells gonging deliriously. Dogs yapping. Mr Whippy vans.

Look out. Hodson. Ronnie Ronnie! Ronnie!

HODSON
: Ryan, forget it.

HODSON
shouting as he rushes toward
RYAN
from a distance of twenty feet.
RYAN
whirls around and fires in roo-shooting position. We hear a gigantic explosion.
HODSON
falls downstage of
WALKER
. Lights out on the
LADY
in the car. A
REPORTER
stands over
HODSON
with a small notebook. Tram bells softly. Gently gonging State School bells and teachers' voices calling like birds for the children to come in to class.

Light up on
HODSON
. Blood is gurgling out of his huge chest.

REPORTER
: Man: nothing left of him.

HODSON
: My Father; My Father; My Father. I just wanted to tell you that…

REPORTER
: Nothing.

HODSON
: Father; My Father; I just wanted to say that…

REPORTER
: Right through both lungs from twenty feet away.

Two
POLICEMEN
appear.

FIRST
POLICEMAN
: What's his name, mate?

REPORTER
: He's a prison officer. George Hudson. That's who he is.

SECOND
POLICEMAN
: Who he was. Now, look out. Rest his neck on this foam car seat thing. Prop him up on that. There, that's better. More comfortable.

Sirens piercingly three times.

Who killed him?

REPORTER
: Ronald Ryan.

FIRST
POLICEMAN
: You got here quick, didn't you?

REPORTER
: Quicker than you.

HODSON
: My Father, I just wanted to tell you something. It was on my mind as I must have forgotten what My Father…

The two
POLICEMEN
fill in their notebooks as the
REPORTER
looks on. Sirens stop. School bells slightly louder, children playing. Some birds. Blackout.

WALKER
: This one's got two flat tyres, and there's no battery in it.

RYAN
: What luck. Normally there's hundreds of guards' cars here. Perfect Irish Catholic luck. This is a comedy of errors. What can you do? Do something. How do you fire this? What have you got there?

WALKER
: An iron bar with a Hawthorn footy sock over it. Bolt. They're onto us. Up Sydney Road. We'll have to run for it.

RYAN
: Oh, brilliant! My gun doesn't even go off.

Sirens are deafening.
RYAN
and
WALKER
run onto Sydney Road, laughing.

It's so hot the asphalt's bubbling. Look at all that traffic, will you? It's so glary. Can hardly see anything.

WALKER
: Taxi! We'll have to get a tram.

RYAN
: I can't remember Silver's number. Three four something. Who cares? We better split up.

They are weaving in and out of traffic.

WALKER
: Look out for the fuckin' Tarax truck. He's trying to run us over. We'll be as flat as his lemonade. I'm a Boon Spa man. Look out!

They are in a car.

RYAN
: [
shrieking
] Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

WALKER
: When your battery snuffs it, holler for a Marshall.

RYAN
: Let's go, Donald Campbell. Take me to Lake Eyre. Just one more time. Go! Go! Go!

The tremendous blast of the engine.

Brazil! Brazil! Brazil! Brazil!

WALKER
: I don't know why more don't go there. We all need a tan sometime.

RYAN
: New set of points.

WALKER
: Sloppy fanbelt. Good car. Motor's good.

RYAN
: Not Drummond, that's North. Go Pascoe Vale way. Do a yooee. There's coppers. Hey, say hello! Don't be rude.

WALKER
: I'm going the other way. I'm never rude.

They wave to police.

RYAN
: Ryan an' Walker. Gentlemen travellers.

They laugh loudly. Accelerate through the blazing, hot Melbourne night.

Short edited machine gun-like bursts of almost incomprehensible un-language to keep tension. The following homicide messages can be performed by
RYAN
and
WALKER
at old-fashioned stand-up microphones.

POLICE RADIO
: Message from Coburg Car 150 ambulance required. Report of warder shot outside Pentridge. Need assistance at main gate, Sydney Road. Warder badly shot need escort. Warder has been definitely shot. Two offenders are in red Vanguard PA002. Car was last seen to head west in O'Hea Road. Another person is also shot require another ambulance. It is believed offenders are escapees. Escapees armed now said to be travelling west in Bell Street: car is said to be a blue Vanguard. Car is a green Velox sedan. To all units for information.

POLICE RADIO
: Definitely established car is a blue/grey Vanguard. Not known yet who escapees are. To car 201 take King Street Bridge. To S/C73 Bell Street and Cumberland Road. Description of one offender said to be five feet ten inches and eleven stone. Sandy hair brushed back. Placid features. From motor registration branch: standard sedan. Grey. M. Mullius of 3 Frayer Street, Coburg. Check that address. Car 352 Spencer Street Bridge. To Moonee Ponds CIB for information Essendon Airport. Ronald James Ryan born 21-2-25. Victoria, five foot nine. Medium build. Fair complexion. Brown hair. Green eyes. Peter John Walker. Born 5-5-41 native of England. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Appendix scar and tattoos on left upper arm. Both wearing blue jeans grey coat and a white shirt with red and blue stripes. Armed with a carbine rifle. Here are the roadblocks. Hume Highway at Craigieburn. Warder is dead. To Bourke Street West attend Spencer Street Railway Station. Gaffney Street and Cumberland Road. Grimshaw and Settlement Roads to Frankston: roadblock at the Mile Bridge. To Dandenong: roadblock on two highways.

WALKER
: We're free. How's that feel?

RYAN
: We're cooking with gas now, boy. You beauty!

WALKER
: Where now?

RYAN
and
WALKER
quarrel in the car.

RYAN
: Up Bell Street, not down it.

WALKER
: I am up it. You go down it.

RYAN
: Is there any gas in it? I said is there any gas in it? Does it say ‘E' or what? Why don't you look at the petrol gauge, Peter? Look at the fucking petrol gauge.

WALKER
: You're the one who's empty, mate.

RYAN
: Where we going to go to? Who's going to look after us?

WALKER
: Not even Saint Christopher would accompany us up Nicholson Street now, mate.

RYAN
: Vanguard, is that a Vanguard? Are they a good vehicle? Can you trust a Vanguard?

WALKER
: Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You've got me in enough strife, you dickhead. Where'd you get it from? Where'd you get it from?

RYAN
: Get what from? What are you talking about?

WALKER
: The plan to get out. How much was it? Whatever it was, you paid too much for it.

RYAN
: The other man got cold feet.

WALKER
: The least you could've done is tee up a car. Why didn't you tee up a bloody car?

RYAN
: Let me think. Let me think. I can't think.

WALKER
: Fancy paying for a sure-fire plan like this.

RYAN
: My head's going to burst, it's gonna break.

WALKER
: There's half a tank. There is a God.

RYAN
: Does the needle go past ‘E'?

WALKER
: Shut up.

RYAN
: Does it?

WALKER
: Why did I go with you?

RYAN
: It's not romantic now, is it?

RYAN
bursts into laughter.

WALKER
: Of course it's not romantic now. Where are we off to? Where are we going to?

RYAN
: Where did we come from? That's the real question.

WALKER
: What's that intersection there?

RYAN
: Heaven and Hell.

WALKER
: It's Newmarket Street, isn't it?

RYAN
: Definitely.

WALKER
: Right or left to our mate's place?

RYAN
: His light's off. Do a yoowee.

WALKER
: What's this other place? His light's on, isn't it? Let's pull up here. Do you know how to use that rifle or don't you? How many shells left in it?

RYAN
: It played up earlier; it ejects funny. There should be one or two in it.

WALKER
: Christ, what a day. I need a beer, bad.

They alight the car to enter Keith Hurley's.

RYAN
: Kensington, Keith Hurley's place. His missus likes me. She'll let us in. Keith's not much fun. Though we better tee up those bodgie plates soon.

Sirens wail. Shots ring out.
KEITH
HURLEY
greets
RYAN
and
WALKER
at his door.

HURLEY
: How can I help you?

WALKER
: We're escaped criminals. How do you do? Let us in, Keith, will you!

HURLEY
: You might be a bit too hot. I'll get done for.

MRS
HURLEY
: Come on in, boys, the water's fine. At last. Company! God, Flemington's dead.

They enter the Hurley premises. They relax for the first time since the escape.
MRS
HURLEY
is there.

You stay here as long as you like. We're redecorating. It's only Kensington. But we'll move up to South Yarra, don't worry about that.

RYAN
: You're a lovely person, Mrs Hurley, for taking us in.

HURLEY
: This is harbouring.

WALKER
: A safe harbour. With boats on it. Little boats.

HURLEY
: I could cop time for letting you blokes do this.

MRS
HURLEY
: Then cop some time and shut up. Chop us some tomatoes and pull your finger out.

RYAN
: You tell him, Missus Hurley.

HURLEY
: What about the radio reports?

RYAN
: What? Brian Henderson? He can't sing. He's no good.

WALKER
: We won't be here long. I think Jesus said that. It's so hot. It's like a cauldron. Cops everywhere. Shut up, all of you!

HURLEY
: Sorry we haven't got any air conditioning. We're saving up for a new set of lungs.

Sirens and garbled news reports.

RYAN
: We did so much time. And now we can do time with friends like Keith and Mrs Keith.

MRS
HURLEY
makes cheese and tomato sandwiches.

I love Keith and Mrs Keith. The sight of cheese and tomato sandwiches getting made. How good is that? A real family.

WALKER
: Only a little thing, Ron.

RYAN
: That's what joy is made of. You've got to bring it over to your side.

HURLEY
: I don't know how long you'se can prop.

POLICE RADIO
: Ringwood Maroondah Highway. Bacchus Marsh Western Highway. Kilmore Hume Highway. Woodend Calder Highway. Interrupt broadcast. Stolen car PA2 002 located and eliminated. Country roadblocks at the following places: Geelong, Princes Highway and Bacchus Marsh intersection. Ballarat, Ballarat and Ararat Roads. Seymour Benalla Nagambie intersection. Heathcote Elmore Bendigo. Castlemaine Maryborough Road. Portland Tyrandarra turn-off. Hamilton St Arnaud Dimboola Kaniva Beulah Ouyen Mildura Echuca Deniliquin Cobram Shepparton Wangaratta Warragul Morwell Sommerville Korumburra South Gippsland Highway Bairnsdale on Mitchell's Bridge Cann River on River Bridge. From Swan Hill on roadblocks at Nyah and one at Toolibuc.