So one day I plotted a course – a simple rectangle of main streets it was, covering only a few miles in distance. And that very night, when I felt the cold dull ache in my bones, I headed out into the dark damp streets of Richmond and … I ran. I ran one lap … then two … then three. I ran until there was nothing left, then fell, smiling, in a crumpled heap at the corner of our street. For a long time I sat there, watching as each steaming breath disappeared into the cold night air. If anyone had seen me they would surely have thought me mad. It's 1919, Richmond football club is on top of the ladder, cream buns are threepence each and four boys are gunning for the best job in town. Charlie is lucky enough to win the prime job – running messages for Squizzy Taylor, the most dangerous gangster in Melbourne. But things start to get a little too hot for Charlie, so he decides to take the money and run ...