"I'm telling mum on you," the junior man told his critic, who just happened to be his older brother.

The O'Loughlins are a tribe within a tribe and the greatest family dynasty in Australian law enforcement history.

Bootmaker Albert and his wife Sylvie had eight children with all five boys joining the Victoria Police. The first in 1957 with the last retiring earlier this month – 57 years later.

Of the three daughters two had children who also joined. At last count 18 family members have served as sworn or unsworn members providing more than 300 years service.

At one time crooks in the northern suburbs knew if a detective with red hair and a dark suit was giving you a cold stare the odds were it was an O'Loughlin.

Barry was the first to join in April, 1957. A carpenter who enlisted in the CMF (Army Reserve), he was attracted to the mateship and action a police career promised. Teacher Robert signed on the following year.

Neil was next, joining as a cadet at the age of 16. "I idolised the older brothers, particularly Barry, and so I followed in their footsteps.''

It wasn't a bad move as Neil ended up deputy commissioner and for a time acting chief commissioner. Robert, Geoff and Doug all retired as superintendents. Barry, the leader, was an armed robbery squad detective sergeant when he died in a car accident in 1972.

Doug was the last to go, retiring a few days ago as assistant director of forensic services after 47 years in the job. "He probably carried a pager and was on call for 30 years," Neil says.

There was never any doubt in Doug's mind he would join the force. "I remember [brother] Barry driving me to primary school in a police car. That makes you feel pretty important."

Although they were all individuals their early careers followed a similar path. After graduation, four of the five learnt their trade in the Preston region, particularly in the notorious patch known in the 1960s as Little Chicago.

(This correspondent went to school on the outskirts when anyone over the age of 20 with their own teeth was considered a social climber).

While the O'Loughlins were learning their trade so were the local hoods, some who would become major underworld figures, including the feared Kane brothers (Les, Brian and Ray), Rod "Fatty" Collins and Greg Workman. Les, Brian and Workman were murdered in separate incidents, Ray has spent most of his life in jail and Collins died of natural causes earlier this year.

(Workman lived across the road from us. It is fair to say he was never a candidate for Neighbourhood Watch).

Brian Kane and Barry O'Loughlin were not big on turning the other cheek and were known to have a series of robust off the record discussions, usually over 12 rounds.

They would be re-acquainted after Barry moved to the armed robbery squad when some of Preston crooks graduated to stick-up merchants.

Local hoods had trouble telling the police brothers apart, which gave them almost mythical powers, as there was always one sniffing around.

Neil remembers attending a domestic call where the son, long used to police knocking on the door, yelled out, "It's O'Loughlin," only for the father to yell back, "Which f---ing one?"

While Neil was chasing puffed-up Little Chicago gangsters, big brother Barry was making a reputation in the armed robbery squad where hardened detectives lived by their own rules.

It was a time when detectives worked until they were exhausted and re-charged in the Police Club with their mates. Drink-driving was tolerated and cops didn't book cops.

Barry had been to Sydney on a tough job before heading home to brother Geoff's buck's night. Tired, he cut out early and was nearly home when his car ran off the road. He was one of 915 people who made up the road toll that year.

Still in shock the family went ahead with the wedding the next day and Barry's widow Bev took her place because O’'Loughlins always stick together. It would never happen now but young Neil was selected to take Barry's place in the robbers.

With his idol gone it was Barry's squad mates who kept a protective eye on the younger O’Loughlin who soon proved to be every bit as good. "I was lucky enough to be mentored by some experienced detectives. I sometimes wonder if the same thing happens today," Neil says.

It must have worked. According to another police character from the north, recently retired Inspector Kim West, "Neil O'Loughlin was the best detective I have seen."

(West was no slouch at cracking cases, both criminal ones and those containing vintage shiraz).

Eventually Neil became officer in charge of the Special Operations Group with both Robert and Doug working in the same area.

Doug went to the anti terrorist group in 1981 as a sergeant and left 17 years later as a chief inspector and officer in charge. "I was in the Army Reserve and was looking for a change and some excitement. It was the best job you could ever have."

In 1986 he was in the SOG office next door to the Russell Street police complex when a car bomb exploded outside the station killing Constable Angela Taylor and injuring another 21 people.

As the windows blew in O'Loughlin ran out into the crime scene. He would spend the next six days gathering clues at the bombsite.

Months later he was part of the raiding teams that arrested bombing suspects including Stan Taylor and Craig Minogue, who were both later convicted. "Craig Minogue cried like a baby. He was no tough guy. That was a very satisfying raid."

But it wasn't all about chasing gangsters. In 1989 a troubled and violent man named Serafettin Huseyin walked into a Hawthorn kindergarten armed with an imitation pistol, tomahawk, nails, steel bars, a can of petrol and matches.

There were 20 kids in the centre but the assistant director helped 16 escape. That left four – three boys and a girl aged just four.

Huseyin forced them into a toilet, poured petrol on them and nailed a door shut. For years he had been protesting over what he claimed was a medical negligence claim involving his wife.

Doug was in charge of the operation but as it happened brother Geoff was an inspector in the city who had been been trying to help Huseyin when the protester was carrying out a 52-day hunger strike on the Parliament House steps.

Even though Geoff wasn't a trained negotiator Doug believed his brother was the right man for the job.

"Some didn't want me inside the perimeter, which was understandable but Doug wanted me there," Geoff says.

Eventually assistant commissioner Frank Green gave the green light with the simple instruction, "Do what you O'Loughlins always do, fly by the seat of your pants."

Huseyin was talking of killing the kids who could be heard whimpering. At one point to try to placate the offender police asked him if he would like some chocolate or lollies only to hear one of the little hostages whisper, "I'd like some lollies please."

The siege dragged on for nearly seven hours and there were those who wanted to pull Geoff out and let the snipers try and shoot the offender while others wanted to kick in the door, hoping they could get to him before he could strike a match.

But Doug stuck with his brother who managed to eventually talk Huseyin into surrendering.

(Serafettin was a slow learner. He was jailed for 14 years but earlier this year was jailed for a further seven years for attacking his wife.)

The brothers are different but they had certain family characteristics that flowed deep in the gene pool. They were tough, brave, stubborn and loyal.

When Neil was deputy commissioner his staff dreaded O'Loughlin family barbecues as the result would be a flurry of emails and new instructions on the Monday after the brothers had talked shop over a few beers at the weekend.

The crooks who hope they have rid themselves of the O'Loughlin curse may soon have to think again.

When Neil's grandson, Chayce, was recently asked if he had decided on a career path he responded, "I might join the family business.''