Andy Muir - Underbelly Squizzy

ANDY MUIR

This edition published in 2013

Copyright Andy Muir 2013

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Allen & Unwin

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Cataloguing-in-Publication details are available
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ISBN 978 1 74331 6 50 4

EISBN 978 1 74343 3 62 1

Text design by Alissa Dinallo

Set in 11/14 pt Sabon by Alissa Dinallo
Printed and bound in Australia by McPhersons Printing Group

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

This book is a novelisation of the Screentime miniseries, Underbelly: Squizzy, which screened on Channel Nine.

Joseph Theodore Leslie Taylor, commonly known as Squizzy, is believed to have been born on 29 June 1888. He died on 27 October 1927. During his short lifetime this common pickpocket became one of the key figures in Melbournes underworld.

The screenwriters, who included me, fashioned this story from real people and events, drawing insight from the gaps in the public records as much as from the facts in the histories and newspapers of the time. No historical record can explain, however, why Squizzy did the things he did. To help explain his actions and also to assist with the drama of the story, some people and events have been changed.

The original screenplays, on which each chapter of this book is based, were written by: Felicity Packard (episodes 1 and 2); Jeff Truman (episodes 3 and 4); Andy Muir (episode 5); Adam Todd (episodes 6 and 7); and Peter Gawler (episode 8).

Compiling the research into Squizzy Taylor was a fascinating process. Turning that into eight hours of television was an exciting challenge. Using those eight screenplays to write a book was demanding and incredibly rewarding.

Andy Muir

Contents

Prologue
Marvellous Melbourne

Even today, eighty-five years after his bloody death, Squizzy Taylor is as much a part of Melbourne as Collins Street and Flinders Street Station. Hang around some of the old inner city pubs long enough and someone will start telling you a tale about the pint-sized rogue. Youll hear how Squizzy committed murder and robbery; how he used underground tunnels to get his sly grog between pubs; how he fixed a football grand final by bashing the captain of South Melbourne. Theyll say he had a hideout in the hills and another in Elwood where he stashed his bootleg liquor ... He drank in this pub, sat right over there; My grandfather worked for him; My grannie danced with him; He was a charmer; He dressed well; He tipped generously and remembered your name; He was ruthless, with a hair-trigger temper.

Most of all hes Melbournes Squizzy Taylor gangster, womaniser, larrikin, dandy, crook.

Im Jacqui James, a detective in the Victoria Police. Ive been in the force for many years, and during that time Ive dealt with some of the biggest cases in Victoria.

The fact that over 100 years later, as a newly minted probationary constable posted to Richmond I was still hearing stories about Squizzy, says something about the man. Not all the stories can be true some probably evolved like Chinese whispers, and others were just the old-timers trying to impress the new girl. But the account youre about to read is what Ive been able to piece together from stories Ive heard and pulled from newspapers and criminal archives of the time. Even if only half of it is true, you have to give credit where it is due: Squizzy Taylor was probably Melbournes arguably Australias original gangster. Often mistaken for a schoolboy he was only five foot two or about 155 centimetres tall Squizzy never had the heft of other career criminals. But what he lacked in size he made up for with ruthlessness and a cheeky-grinned charisma, forging a criminal career to which later Melbourne villains could only aspire.

Although his story began in 1888, it wasnt until 1915 that the local police stopped regarding him as just a pickpocket. If the detectives had known then how much of the next twelve years they would devote to Squizzy Taylor and his part in Melbournes underworld, no one would have believed them.

1
Squizzy steps out

High above the stage of the Bijoux Theatre on Bourke Street was a secret hiding spot Squizzy called his belltower. From there he had a grand view out over Melbourne, but on the morning of the 14th of June, 1915, Squizzy wasnt enjoying the view. Instead, he watched as a bosomy blonde knelt before a large leather suitcase, big enough to hold a body, unpacking dresses, frocks, ladies boots and wigs. Two candy-striped hatboxes, already opened, lay beside her.

Whose bright idea was this again? the blonde complained. She was Dolly Gray, a local prostitute who had fallen for the diminutive villain some years before. Although not married, Squizzy and Dolly called themselves husband and wife. As usual, she had no clue what was going on in her companions head. He had explained it all to her earlier, but she still struggled to grasp his scheme. Squizzy grinned at Dolly. Relax, he said. Itll be a breeze. Dont be nervous.

But she was, and wanted to hear again why they were going to do what he had planned.

Still grinning broadly, Squizzy obliged. It would give them a nice payday but, more importantly, nobody else had ever done it. Simple as that.

Gripping Dolly by the shoulders, Squizzy planted a passionate kiss on her lips. It was all the reassurance Dolly needed, and also made her think of what she would prefer to be doing with her man right there in the belltower. Her raised eyebrow was the only cue Squizzy needed.

Yet time waits for no one. Adrenalin coursing through him, Squizzy kissed Dolly again. Come on, show us what you got. With a flourish, Dolly held up one of the dresses in front of her and waited for his approval.

Anyone walking along Collins Street that morning wouldnt have noticed the two respectable-looking middle-class ladies strolling arm in arm, heading down to the Block Arcade near Elizabeth Street. Apart from the cowboy-style strut of the shorter woman, nothing about their appearance was extraordinary. Youre a lady, Dolly nervously whispered to Squizzy, assuring herself as much as him. His five oclock shadow was clearly visible under the pancake makeup and bright red lipstick.

Its the bloody corset making me walk like this, he griped.

Now you know what we girls have to put up with.

Pretending to look at a window display, Squizzy made a final check of his appearance. As he did so, he asked Dolly if she remembered what she had to do.

Dolly nodded, fighting back an increasingly urgent need to pee.