From the Inside: Chopper 1 by Mark Brandon "Chopper" Read Read Free Book Online Page A

it, and as Dave looked away the old ex-heavyweight pug knocked the Jew out.
    ‘Right, cuff him and put him in the boot’, I said.
    By this time the publican had woken up. ‘Right,’ I said. ‘We’re out of here. Give us a hand with the stiff in the cellar.’ Me and the publican carried Sweeney out to the car and laid him in the back seat. Vinnie was still trying to secure the boot so Dave couldn’t escape. Me, Vinnie and the publican went back in. The kids were put to bed quickly. We all had a stiff whisky. The pub still stunk of burnt flesh. I promised the publican and his wife two grand each for compo, and that Vinnie would deliver it. No problem, said the publican and his wife. Thank you for that.
    Back in the car we had a kicking and screaming Dave in the boot. ‘Shut up!’ I yelled as we drove along, ‘or I’ll pump a few through the back seat.’ Dave shut up. I said to Vinnie: ‘When’s this bastard’s ship leave?’
    He looked at his watch and said, ‘in about half an hour’.
    I said: ‘Right, get him back on the ship. Give me the Jew’s gun and cuff keys and let me out now’. Vincent pulled up. I opened the boot and pulled Dave out. He was angry but in control. I undid his cuffs, tossed the cuffs and keys in the boot and said to Vincent: ‘This is your fuck-up. You fix it’.
    He said: ‘I’m sorry, Chopper. I’m sorry.’ I said: ‘Piss off, now. Go’.
    Dave and I walked in the cold night air, calming down. ‘We would be better off with a cut lunch and a nine to five’, said Dave.
    We both laughed. We had been through a lot, the mad Jew and I, and we loved each other like brothers. We saw a taxi and hailed it, and went back to Dave’s home in South Yarra. We woke his Mum and had a nice sit-down dinner.
    Dave’s Mum said: ‘You both smell like burnt hair’. His Dad came down — and knew the smell after one sniff.
    ‘I haven’t smelt that smell since 1943’ he said.
    ‘It’s not what you think, father’ Dave said.
    ‘Don’t tell me,’ said Dave’s Dad. ‘You smell like a Belsen barbecue. I’m going back to bed.’
    As it turned out, Vincent did fix it. Sweeney slept unconscious through the whole thing and is now living in Spain.
    I can tell a lot of stories about Dave.
    Once he was contracted to do a hit on a major underworld figure — a Sydney identity visiting Melbourne for the November racing calendar. Dave the Jew was armed with a Colt Armalite AR-15 Sporter, which loads with a 5.56mm NATO round. The gun was fitted with a ’scope, and he had a 30-round clip.
    The ‘victim’ was staying with friends in a house in the eastern suburbs. There had been some planning and expense put in beforehand. A flat had been rented across the road under a bodgie name eight weeks before the Sydneysider’s November visit. It was a balcony flat on the second floor. The front window of the flat was no use because there were trees in the way, so the shot had to be from the side balcony. On the day, Dave took up his position and watched as the target and his wife and son walked towards a Ford LTD which was waiting for them.
    Dave suddenly decided to climb over the balcony rail and sit with one leg each side of the rail to get a better aim. It was a fairly easy 180-yards shot. He leaned out to the side a bit, taking perfect aim for the classic heart shot. But just as he was about to squeeze the trigger he slipped and fell off his perch.
    It was two storeys from the balcony to the rock and cactus garden below, and Dave’s screams of pain brought the ‘victim’ and his son running across the street to see what was wrong. They found Dave the Jew in great pain with a broken arm, and bruised and bleeding. By chance the rifle had landed on the other side of the fence out of sight. The Sydney man and his wife and son and a friend drove the Jew to hospital. Later Dave sent a thankyou card to the Sydney chap.
    It is an embarrassing true story, going to prove that the best of us can go arse over