The brazen murder of one of the last of Melbourne's infamous Moran clan a few weeks back in broad daylight provided more fodder for crime hungry media outlets.
On a personal level, I had attended the deli next door to the crime scene, about a month ago - so the visions were chilled with familiarity.
It seems Union Street in Ascot Vale is something of a meeting place for some of Australia's shadier figures... That day I had met with a chap nick-named "the Texan" - a somewhat fearsome figure of the legendarily maligned "painters and dockers" union and a central participant in the "dockland war" that raged during the 1960's and 70's - one of Australia's most violent conflicts. He is one of the only major players left alive from that "war".
I met with him, somewhat apprehensively, for the purpose of research - for some characterisation I was doing for a film screenplay I have been writing. I didn't have to, nor need to meet him - and had been reluctant to meet with any of the participants in events I have been studying as part of my writing, because my work is a "gonzo" styled piece - a fiction.
But I had been speaking with his biographer for a little while - she had authored a couple of interesting books - and I ultimately decided the story would be enhanced by meeting someone like "the Texan" to get a better sense of the atmosphere and attitude pervading that scene and how characters, such as he, and many that were to follow, "emerged". I was intrigued.
So after a telephone exchange, we met for a coffee in a Union street deli and spoke a little about his past for an hour or so. It was pretty enthralling to say the least. I will reserve my discoveries for my stories to follow, however...
As a man, "the texan" is full of contradictions. He has a penchant for ballroom dancing - it has been a lifelong passion. We spent quite a lot of time on this subject, actually; remarking, by turn, what a crying shame it is that there is not more of these kinds of events for young people, these days...
He was sharply intelligent. Very articulate - positively erudite, in fact. And yet he was all the while manipulative and controlling of the presentation of the facts. He had a smouldering cunning that lurked beneath a fairly casual yet imposing exterior. Notwithstanding, despite a physical presence, age has wearied him. He is now 83. And he clearly carries a weight of remorse on his shoulders.
Or maybe it was simply the hunch of a man who had spent 15 years in Pentridge prison. (Chopper Read made his name as his bodyguard during that time...)
The whole Ascot Vale strip is a pretty insipid little district. The delis are run down little joints populated by all manner of colourful types. You get the impression there is a lot of history in the humanity that congregates and mixes throughout its modest haunts.
I was interested to see when Des Moran was gunned down on the strip, that they turned to Chopper and the Texan for "expert commentary": http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25647861-2862,00.html
It is a pretty curious situation. As a friend of mine remarked to me, "we remember the crims and not the goodies". Perhaps in Australia it has something to do with our convict roots - but it does seem like something of an omnipresent phenomenon. I have heard another explain the fascination with crime as a kind of perverted thrill - the freedom of living a life without any rules; that outlaws provide a vicarious vehicle for this type of escapism.
I asked "the texan" whether he regretted the life he had lived the better part of.
It was at that point that some of the veiled bravado was shelved. He said he'd wished none of it had happened... He said that he'd wished he had owned a small business or become a builder or something.
"But" he said, calmly,"some of us are born to walk down the shady side of the street."
