As a child I spent occasional weekends with my grandfather. He was a career criminal and a dangerous man. His convictions ranged from serious assault to burglary and armed robbery. He once threw his partner from a moving bus, a woman he had married illegally after deserting my grandmother and her young children, including my father. He was shot on more than one occasion and came close to death. He was also involved in the deaths of other people, men from the same criminal world he inhabited. Surprisingly, he spent little time in prison.

I once heard a story about my grandfather’s capacity for violence that I initially believed was either highly embellished or a complete fiction. The story goes that my grandfather and several associates, one regarded as the most notorious robber in Melbourne, raided a city jeweller. Later, while inspecting the hoard of jewels, one of the men noticed that a diamond ring was missing. Questions were asked and another of the robbers finally admitted that he had pocketed the ring and later swallowed it. Apparently, he then laughed, shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘It’s okay, I’ll shit it out’. The other men did not have the patience for nature to take its course. They cut the diamond ring from his intestines and dumped his body in a river.