by Ray Smithies
‘I see. Does Brigit still live with you?’ queried Marsh.
‘Yes and no. Technically she does but there are times when I don’t see her for three or four days on end. That’s when I worry because she never tells me where she stays. You see, Brigit has always been a rebellious child and refuses to conform to the more conventional aspects of life.’
‘And where does Tom Harrison fit into the scheme of things ... your brother, I assume?
‘No, Tom was Susan’s brother, which makes Brigit his blood relative.’
‘Thank you for your time, Mrs O’Neill,’ Forbes said. ‘We’ll pay Brigit a visit soon with the hope she can assist with our investigation. Feel free to contact us if there is any further matter you need to discuss.’
~ * ~
The interview with Phillip Reynolds the next day was particularly difficult. He now lived alone, had no immediate family and appeared to have few friends or acquaintances for support. With a marriage in disarray and the loss of his son at such a young age, his world had turned upside down. He was destined to become a lonely individual.
‘Mr Reynolds, we’ll keep this brief,’ Forbes said. ‘At this point in time it may seem little comfort to you, but every effort is being made to identify the person or persons responsible. Can you think of anything that may assist us with our investigation? Perhaps you have concerns about an acquaintance your son had that you may wish to talk about, or Jake’s lifestyle and habits, his interests and that sort of thing.’
‘Well, he showed an interest in Brigit O’Neill and I believe the attraction was mutual, much to the annoyance of James Slattery, who was Brigit’s ex-boyfriend. Jake would tell me there was a lot of jealously in that man, and he’d threatened Jake once or twice. Detective, my son was an exceptional athlete who may have been selected to represent his country at the next Olympic Games, but unfortunately all is now lost. He was a long-distance runner who trained many kilometres each day…’
Reynolds paused for a brief moment, clearly upset at what might have been. He gathered himself without Forbes cutting in and continued.
‘One thing you should be aware of is that Jake’s training route in the morning never varied. It was always the same ten-k circular run which included the site where he fell to his death. It was only his late-afternoon training that varied in distance and location.’
‘Do you know where this James Slattery lives?’
‘I’ve never been to the house but I recall Jake telling me Hillview Road, which is somewhere on the outskirts of Pedley, but I have no idea of the number.’
‘For the record, may I have your whereabouts on Friday night and early Saturday?’
‘I was home all night and went into town Saturday morning, returning at ten.’
‘Thank you. Is there anything else you can think of?’ Forbes asked.
‘Not at the moment but I can always give you a call. How’s Brigit holding up?’
‘She’s regained consciousness and we plan to visit her today.’
Forbes concluded the interview and realised they had gone beyond the visiting hour. The stress of reliving the events was again becoming too much for Phillip Reynolds to bear. He broke down in a flood of tears. It was time for the detectives to visit the hospital.
~ * ~
They were greeted by Doctor Young in the hospital foyer. He gave them instructions not to get Brigit too excited and to keep questions to a minimum.
The curtains were still drawn in room 127 and a strong medical odour lingered. Brigit was sitting up in bed, and despite her left arm in plaster and looking a bit worse for wear, she appeared receptive to an interview.
Thinking about what Helen O’Neill had told him about Brigit’s mother, Forbes could see a degree of Susan O’Neill’s beauty harnessed within her daughter’s bruised and broken exterior. Brigit must have inherited her mother’s supposedly good looks, he thought. Obviously told of their intended visit, she frowned when they came into view.
After the introductions, Forbes said, ‘Brigit, please forgive our intrusion but we’re hoping you feel up to answering a few questions today. We sympathise with your recent ordeal and the consequences, but we need to talk to you about certain matters. Firstly, can you recall exactly what happened that morning by the cliff?’
With a somewhat impassive tone, Brigit said, ‘I was standing on the ground that eventually gave way, but my light weight obviously wasn’t enough to have any effect. It was when Jake arrived and stood beside me that everything beneath us collapsed. I can’t remember another thing after that until I woke up in hospital.’
‘Tell me what led you to be with Jake on Saturday morning.’
Forbes could immediately see he had hit a raw nerve, for Brigit’s eyes began to fill and her saddened face now dissolved into an uncontrollable sob. The detectives gave her a moment to compose herself.
‘I knew Jake ran the same way every morning and he always started at seven, which I think had something to do with his stopwatch. I decided to surprise him by waiting at the cliff so we could finish the run together.’
Brigit paused, and then in a slightly bitter tone declared, ‘I loved Jake and that’s now been taken away from me, as were my mother and father. At this moment my life is at its lowest point and all I have left is my stepmother.’
A short interlude followed Brigit’s sudden outburst. Forbes then resumed his questioning. ‘What can you tell me about James Slattery?’
Brigit’s reaction was one of surprise. Her eyes widened at the mention of his name, followed by a frown that suggested some uncomfortable association. Forbes sensed the negative reaction, suspecting that Brigit had not anticipated this line of questioning. She hesitated at first, as if searching for the correct words.
‘James and I used to be an item, you might say, but he became very obsessive and it reached a point where he saw all other men as a threat. It was a ridiculous situation that was starting to get out of hand, so I called the whole thing off, telling him he was immature and to stop messing around with my friends. He gave poor Jake a hard time and I prefer not to have anything to do with him these days.’
‘What can you tell me about your stepmother?’
‘At times I despise that woman for her resentments. Always picking fault and trying to turn me into something I’m not. Helen’s been trying for years to send me to boarding school in the city but I’ve always refused to go. She’s forever creating this false image to impress others, which is something I detest. She married my father around eighteen months after the death of my mother and their marriage lasted for three years before my father died of cancer. I’m sure he only married her so I could have a legal guardian to protect my interests. There’s no denying Helen married for money. You only have to look around today to see what that legacy has brought her.’
‘But surely your stepmother must have her good points,’ enquired Forbes.
‘I won’t deny she does want the best for me, but it’s the way she goes about it and the stupid pretences to impress people that I can’t handle!’
The detectives could see Brigit’s emotional stress resurfacing. Forbes decided they had discussed enough during their first interview.
‘This is all becoming too traumatic for you, so let’s stop here and we’ll continue at a later date.’
‘Yeah ... I’m finding it difficult to cope, because all I do is lie here and think about different things. If I was up and about then it might be easier.’
‘Very well,’ Forbes said. ‘Let’s resume our discussion in a day or two. We’ll be on our way now.’
~ * ~
Hillview Road was situated on an elevated site around one kilometre inland overlooking the distant bay. The property sat beside a heavily timbered area currently being cleared to make way for a new housing development on the edge of town. This particular address appeared to Forbes to be one of the original residences, given the maturity of the garden surrounding the house. A young man of shrewd appearance and lean build was wa
iting on the verandah when he and Marsh walked up the steps.
Following the introductions, Forbes said, ‘James, we need to ask you some routine questions in relation to the death of Jake Reynolds. Would you please tell us what you know about Brigit O’Neill?’
James hesitated. He wondered where this line of questioning was headed. His distrust of the law was nothing new and the sudden arrival of these out-of-towners was no exception. His approach was cautious but direct.
‘Until around five months ago, Brigit and I had a relationship which lasted just over a year. It had its highs and lows like most and to a degree we both had our faults. Brigit was selfish and had a very stubborn and argumentative nature. I was very possessive of her, but with good reason,’ said James.
‘Can you elaborate?’ enquired Marsh.
‘Brigit could be easily led at times and unfortunately she fell in with the wrong group. These bastards persuaded her to become one of their drug dealers, praying on the innocence of schoolchildren and the young people in the community. It became easy pickings and she was getting in too deep. My possessiveness of her was no more than protection from these pricks because I had concerns for her safety. We often argued and she accused me of being obsessive and having an arrogant nature. I still have feelings for her but now she rejects all my advances.’
‘Did you know Jake Reynolds?’ Marsh asked.
‘Certainly. He was an okay sort of guy, but I held some resentment because of Brigit taking an interest in him. Don’t get me wrong, I was as surprised as anyone else in hearing about this tragedy.’
‘Was Jake involved in the drug scene?’
‘Not that I’m aware of. He wasn’t the type to get involved because of his commitment to training and the possibility of being selected for the Games. My guess is Brigit would’ve never divulged her secret for fear of losing him,’ declared James.
‘And what about yourself?’
‘No, detective, I have neither the interest nor money to support that habit.’
‘What can you tell us about the local drug syndicate?’ queried Forbes.
‘Nothing really, but like most people I’m aware of its existence.’
‘Were you home on Friday night and early Saturday morning?’ asked Forbes.
‘No, I went to O’Riley’s Inn with some friends. Later we decided to go on to the Regency Nightclub and I was home around two and didn’t get out of bed until midday on Saturday.’
‘Very well, that should do for now,’ said Forbes.
‘Just one more thing - how’s Brigit doing?’ James asked.
‘We visited her today and she’s making good progress.’
Round one of the detectives’ enquiries had now concluded. Their interviews had been productive and they had a clearer understanding about Brigit’s involvement within the drug scene. It was time to round up the troops and reiterate on what had transpired.
~ * ~
I
n a side street off the main drag in Pedley, two men were unloading a consignment of merchandise and placing the shipment along a wall. The signage from the front entrance of the warehouse read: BROADBENT, IMPORTERS AND DISTRIBUTORS OF FINE PRODUCE. With the remaining boxes now stacked against the wall, the courier driver climbed aboard his van and departed. The roller door was immediately lowered.
‘Where in the hell is Ferret. He’s never bloody around when ya need him!’ griped the tall warehouse assistant. His cigarette remained firm between the lips. No hand came forth during exhaling.
‘Fuck knows, probably gone to grab a bite somewhere,’ replied his equally annoyed colleague.
‘All this work has gotta be done by nine, for Christ’s sake!’
The two commenced to segregate the boxes according to labeling. Wine to the floor, coffee and tea placed upon some nearby shelving, and various canned products loaded on a timber pallet ready for delivery to a local supermarket later in the morning. Their boss was about to arrive and would expect to find this task completed.
Broadbent had been a respected local identity for some years and there was never a reason for the authorities to believe otherwise. The supermarket commodities were perceived by the public to be Broadbent’s sole source of income, but the company was in fact a front for accumulating and distributing a wide variety of drugs.
It was an extremely well run business. The company was always careful to project the one image should an unannounced representative from some hotel, restaurant or supermarket chain pay a sudden visit. There was a small front office leading directly to the warehouse, and this, together with loading bays and a small fleet of vans, completed the premises, or so the public thought.
The syndicate that purchased the property with the intention of setting up such a deception had done its homework well. Unbeknown to the vast majority of people living today, a network of tunnels and chambers still existed beneath Pedley. It was once written that the cellar system was reminiscent of a downscaled version of the Roman catacombs. Around two hundred years before, convict labour brought to the mainland excavated an underground system, which served as a penal colony. The convicts were housed in these chambers to serve out their remaining years, whilst the authorities at the time lived in stone houses above the ground. This underground network, whilst inhumane, was extremely effective for controlling and keeping the prisoners at bay.
The stone buildings were eventually demolished and no visual evidence remained to support the theory of the once-concealed subterranean passages. Only three entrances were ever constructed, all of which led directly from their respective stone premises. One such entrance lay directly below Broadbent’s premises.
Although this network was still functional, time had brought with it some degree of deterioration, with access only known to the privileged few who had sworn an oath of absolute secrecy. It was ironic that the drug underworld would establish their regional headquarters in such a cleverly chosen underground location.
An organisation within the drug world known as Scorpio had purchased the Broadbent site some eight years earlier. Victor Marlow, known only as ‘the Keeper’ to his employees, was the brains and finance behind the enterprise. He ran an efficient and highly profitable business from his city address and had successfully launched three regional headquarters - one of which was Pedley - to assist with city and interstate demand. The Pedley success story of recent years was so impressive it now rivaled its city counterpart for annual revenue, where interstate trade was now drawing from its abundant stock. It came as no surprise to those in the hierarchy that Marlow held this regional outlet in such high regard. Due to its close proximity to the city, he often made the effort to visit the town to discuss business developments with his regional head and view the underground operations.
The Pedley conglomerate consisted of numerous people on the payroll. Broadbent alone comprised a manager and his four subordinates, whilst the drug operations were delegated to two people responsible for trafficking, transport, the recruitment of pushers and to carry out the manual tasks required underground. The syndicate’s overall responsibility was carried out by a regional head, whose identity was known only to Victor Marlow, Broadbent’s manager Neville Bradbury and one of the drug operators.
Only five people within the organisation had knowledge of and access to the underground network beneath Pedley: Marlow, the regional head, Bradbury and two drug operators known only as Charlie and Sol. The world beneath Broadbent was an underground paradise for supporting the drug habits of those so inclined. The variety alone was like a smorgasbord of gourmet dishes that would satisfy the most fastidious of seasoned palates. The pickings, which boasted unconditional quality and unlimited supply, covered the total spectrum, ranging from cannabis and ecstasy through to cocaine, amphetamines and heroin.
Neville Bradbury, a methodical man in his early forties and a loyal employee of the syndicate, arrived at the warehouse. He was pleased to see that the morning consignment had arrived and that all the produce was packed the way h
e had instructed. Travis Ferguson, the Broadbent employee also known as Ferret, had rejoined his coworkers and would probably receive his boss’s gratitude, much to the annoyance of others.
‘Thanks, guys,’ Bradbury said. ‘Would one of you now place that pallet into the van and take it over to Murphy’s Supermarket as they’re expecting delivery before ten, and then you can call it quits for the day.’
‘Sure, boss,’ called Ferret, keen to accrue some brownie points.
Not long after the men had left, Charlie, one of the drug operators suddenly appeared, looking somewhat agitated.
‘I gotta talk to ya about something,’ he said to Bradbury, looking around to ensure the roller door was secured.
‘Okay, so what’s on your mind, Charlie?’
