The Crocodile Caper

By Peter McDonough

What happens when a bunch of blokes get together at the back of the local pub one afternoon and someone proposes they plot the perfect crime Sometimes an idea can be extrapolated too far and become larger than itself. This is how plans can go awry, how revolutions begin. And, it can happen to anyone who is easily led. This is a tale to be approached with caution. A whole load of croc...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 4, 2011
• ISBN: 9781447691921

Peter McDonough

Peter McDonough is a Professor of Political Science at Arizona State University. His is a Fulbright fellow, has been a National Endowment for the Humanities fellow, and a recipient of grants from the German Marshall Fund, the National Science Foundation, and the Pew Endowment.

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1

It started off as a joke.

On a boozy afternoon.

Beefy Kilmore was a mate of mine and we were meeting at the pub for a hamburger and then catching up with Jako Bean and XRay Lawless on the back verandah when someone, somehow, that day, came up with this really stupid idea to theoretically carry out a robbery. I think it was Beefy.

Brian Fitzgerald Kilmore got his nickname, and his wife, from a credit union when he opened an account to deposit a small part of his first pay cheque as a young schoolteacher .

‘Could I have your name please?’

‘Kilmore. B.F.’ said Brian.

‘Do you?’ she giggled.

‘Do I what?’

‘Kill more beef?’

From then on he was known as ‘Beefy’ and shortly after he and the teller, named Rose, were married. His pet name for her became ‘Roast’.

It was Beefy who proposed we plot the perfect crime.

There were constant interruptions to replenish the schooners. By late afternoon, or was it early evening, we had some of the major details ironed out.

There were questions. I remember some of them.

What we were going to rob?

How much profit might be in it?

How much trouble and cost would it take to prepare?

What should we do afterwards?

These were some of the issues taken into account.

There were plenty of funny moments, you understand.

Disagreements, arguments and a degree of abuse and banter.

We were pretty sharp blokes ,we believed, with strong opinions. So there were many and varied proposals put forward and many rounds of schooners downed.

It was Beefy who came up with the mark, but it was XRay who suggested the modus operandi.

Beefy and I agreed it was a ‘cracker’.

You see, Beefy was a bit of a punter and had bet plenty of pay packets over the years and here was a chance to get some of it back.

‘What about a TAB? On Melbourne Cup Day? Just before the race?’

‘Beauty Beefy!’ we cheered.

We backed him unanimously.

We savoured the rarity of the moment when we all agreed on something.

Anything.

Then followed lengthy discussion, and argument, over which TAB?

And how?

We were getting bogged down in detail.

Despite our elation at the agreement, we were allowing fuzzy thinking to seep into our suggestions.

We decided to call it quits at closing time and pick up where we left off again tomorrow arvo.

At least we had crossed the first hurdle.

We had our mark.

Beefy went home to Roast that night and told her he and the boys were planning a fishing expedition around Melbourne Cup Day. She failed to see the connection but secretly hoped it meant he might not lose another small fortune on a wild outsider.

After that meeting we decided to call our particular think tank: The Success Club.

Jako wrote a poem about it and presented us all with a copy. He called it The Success Club and made us all honorary members.

‘You’ve heard of the Oddfellows, the Masons, et al,

the Bowling Club, the Leagues Club, the RSL,

you’ve heard of dog clubs and dance clubs and racing and hunt

and croquet and cricket and pistol and punt.

You’ve heard of nudist and netball and baseball and hockey

and gymnast and golf and pony and jockey.

But of all of the clubs the least known (at a guess)

would be the very elitist and exclusive - ‘SUCCESS’.

Members meet daily in the Wollombi pub

and discuss matters arising and business of The Club

and regulations and rules and by-laws and such

and as little as possible or not very much.

In order to be a member – or have your application accepted

you must NEVER have succeeded at anything attempted.

Before you can join in the Club’s bacchanalia

you must prove you’re a complete and abject failure.

No matter how much you begged or you pleaded

you’ll never be a member if you’ve ever succeeded.

The difficulty with membership drives is dramatic –

If your application’s successful you’re disqualified, automatic –

But should you like to join as an associate for a time

then sit down and join us in a bottle of wine.

This meeting of The Success Club is now under way

and fortunately there is nothing on the agenda today

Luckily, also, as we sit here in our forum

we’ve successfully failed to achieve a quorum.

The rules may sound odd or possibly perverse

but with this association – most things are reverse.

And while our chapter may be small

in this local pub

Sometimes we think we’re the world’s

greatest club.

So, if you believe you belong in this institution

you’ve now found

just pull up a stool and buy the next round.

But only if you’ve failed – and failed in excess

Because we refuse to be tainted by tales of SUCCESS.

XRay, whose real name is Ray Lawless, had earned his nickname years before when he boasted to all and sundry he was a polymath. A person of great learning who could see through all the fluff and arrive at the core of the matter through mental agility, a broad knowledge base, the power of positive deduction and spherical thinking.

There was no question among the rest of us that he was the sharpest tool in our shed.

He’s the one that should be telling you this.

Not me.

And, at this meeting of The Success Club, he proved it once again. With this killer of an idea:

‘We use a crocodile.’

‘What?’

‘We toss a crocodile into a TAB. The punters and the staff panic, evacuate immediately. No time to lock the cash away. Total chaos. More frightening than a bomb. Just as effective. We bag the cash. Exit. Job done.’

‘It’s brilliant,’ said Jako.

‘It’s clever,’ said Beefy.

‘It’s crazy,’ I offered in an encouraging way.

‘It’s simple,’ XRay said.

We had a good laugh and XRay went in to buy the next round.

Jako leaned across the table and said, ‘Where do you get a crocodile?’

‘eBay,’ Beefy said.

‘It’s a good question,’ I said. ‘Let’s see if XRay’s thought that one through.’

XRay came back with eight schooners on a tray as a gesture to celebrate the arrival of our second major agreement. Or our third if you count the first one which was