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leafy residential street running behind Kew Cemetery. Tizzoni relayed the orders but Bazley resented the order to kill the Wilsons’ dog, Taj. ‘Why do the dog? Dogs don’t talk,’ he said, in a bizarre display of compassion.
    Tizzoni shrugged it off, and told Bazley the Wilsons would drive down from Sydney, expecting to meet a person at a Seymour motel (north of Melbourne) that they had been told theywere ‘taking over from’ in Melbourne. Bazley would pose as that person. He suggested the following Sunday, 8 April, and asked for $10,000 for each victim. Tizzoni readily agreed, as Trimbole had made it clear there was much more money available than that. He agreed to drop the Wilsons’ car at the airport and to ensure the bodies would never be found.
    â€˜There’s no worry about that; I’ll put them through the mincer,’ Bazley promised. These barbaric details were music to Clark’s ears when later relayed to him by Trimbole.
    When Trimbole heard Bazley was reluctant to kill the Wilsons’ dog, he remonstrated and Tizzoni spoke to Bazley, who reluctantly agreed.
    The Wilsons left Sydney that Sunday and drove south down the Hume Highway to Seymour, an hour north of Melbourne’s suburbs. But Bazley had to cancel at the last minute because he had hurt his arm, which was in a sling. It was too late to head off the Wilsons. Trimbole flew to Melbourne and Tizzoni drove him to the Seymour motel the Wilsons had booked into, to make sure they were there, and had not suspected anything was amiss.
    The Wilsons returned to Sydney, their lives spared for five more days. Two days later, Bazley told Tizzoni his arm was better and suggested the ‘job’ go ahead that Friday. This was proof, if nothing else, that Bazley was neither religious nor superstitious.
    It was Friday the 13th, and also Good Friday.
    This time Bazley was waiting for the unsuspecting couple. No one knows exactly where he asked them to follow him, but it was most likely to a suburban house with a garage somewhere close to the airport. He told them why they were to die and shot Wilson first, then his wife. But he did not shoot the dog.
    Taj the keeshond was found wandering the streets in the northern suburbs on Easter Monday, and was taken in and cared for by a man who later handed him in to police. Like Bazley, the Wilsons and Dennis Brown, the man who found their bodies amonth later, he was a dog lover – which was more than could be said of Terry Clark. He loved only himself and money – or, rather, the power it bought him over others.
    Clark couldn’t resist boasting about the murder to his third wife Maria Muhaury, mother of his son, Jarrod. During an argument, he threatened to get the same hit man to kill her if she caused any trouble. This might explain why she had no qualms about testifying against him later. But it doesn’t explain why so many women threw themselves at Clark. His own theory was that it was the money.

2
LADY KILLER
    THE RISE OF TERRENCE CLARK, DRUG DEALER
    When a hit man was sent after him, Clark sat the gunman down, opened a bottle of wine, lit him a cigar and cleared up the misunderstanding. He was carrying a vintage Luger pistol and his associates had no doubt he would use it.
    Â 
    LATER, when his world had crashed around him, Terry Clark would sit in court reading Norman Mailer’s
The Executioner’s Song
, the true story of a death row prisoner who chose to be executed. A decade earlier, as a small-time crook with big ideas, Clark would have seen
The Godfather
, a film classic that inspired a generation of would-be gangsters. More literate than the usual run of thieves – he fancied himself as an artist – Clark most likely also read the Mario Puzo novel that inspired the Godfather films. And if he ever read Puzo’s pithy line about what drives men to compete, he would have understood it, because it fitted him.
    Men compete to succeed, Puzo said,