by Ray Smithies
Marlow cut in. ‘Yeah, yeah, but what’s being monitored?’
‘Stress is being measured, because lying is stressful.’
‘Okay, enough of this shit. Just do it and if it doesn’t work then we’ll do it my way.’
‘All right.’
‘Now this brings me to my second point and that is, what do we do with our interfering Tom Harrison?’ questioned the Keeper.
‘I haven’t planned that far ahead just yet,’ responded the Piedpiper.
‘He needs to be taught a lesson for his meddling. Have two of your men pay him a visit tomorrow night with orders to rough him up a bit. Be sure it’s not overly violent, but make enough threat to stop his constant interference.’
‘Is that really necessary at the moment? I mean, can’t we wait until after the O’Neill polygraph results and then take appropriate action?’
‘Do I detect you’re suddenly going soft on me?’
‘Certainly not, just being careful with all the present media hype.’
‘Do you know this Tom Harrison?’ asked Marlow.
‘Yes. Tom Harrison’s of no consequence and I don’t think continual violence is the answer. As I said, the O’Neill results should determine Harrison’s fate, meaning if we uncover any incriminating information then he becomes a marked man -’
‘Assuming the girl has passed on this information.’
‘Of course. A negative result should imply that no further action will be taken against him.’
‘No, they are my orders! Arrange for your men to carry this out tomorrow night. Harrison must be warned that no further involvement will be tolerated and to stay away from the police,’ said the Keeper callously.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now tell me exactly what happened aboard the Molly Bloom,’ Marlow demanded.
The Piedpiper reiterated the events of the afternoon, leaving no doubt in Marlow’s mind that Brad Morgan was the main instigator. The Keeper listened intently, not once interrupting his subordinate’s detailed summary He deliberated for a moment prior to responding.
‘Effective immediately, I have decided to downscale the southern operation. The Molly Bloom incident has attracted national coverage with both the media and general public demanding arrests. To be expected, police resources will now be upgraded and I daresay there’ll be an influx of journalists upon your doorstep snooping around for a story. There’s no point in ranting and raving about the consequences for the damage has been done. What I can’t comprehend is the stupidity of even contemplating such an act. Give that man of mine a gun and he thinks the fucking world is his to rule. Disciplinary measures will be taken against Morgan and Charlie in due course. The whole place will now become inundated with people searching for answers and therefore I can’t afford to expose our operation for the sake of maintaining current returns. Our logistics team will temporarily cease distribution for the southern region until all this hysteria and hype subsides. This low-key approach is a cautious but necessary one and it will require a discipline and high level of patience before this region is back on track.’
‘Yes, my thoughts exactly and a strategy that was to be expected,’ said the Piedpiper.
‘Now on to an equally serious matter. Today I’ve learnt of a very disturbing development. My sources advise that a rival syndicate has intentions of establishing a base in the Pedley area. These people are expecting our operation to be downscaled in light of all this media coverage. They have decided to risk all, believing these circumstances will provide opportunity to infiltrate our existing clientele.’
‘Which rival syndicate are you talking about, Victor?’
‘Their organisation is known as Traffik, spelled with a k. Like us, their headquarters are based in the city and with continual recent growth they now see a need to establish a regional operation in our domain. I’ll fill you in with the details at a later date.’
‘Okay.’
‘It’s both a brazen and foolish act and I don’t plan to compete when the likelihood of disclosure is at a very vulnerable level,’ declared the Keeper.
‘Then how do you plan to combat the threat?’
‘To put it bluntly, we’ll expose them for what they’re worth.’
‘And how do you propose this will be done?’
‘I will personally deliver to you a list of documents containing the names and addresses of their hierarchy. I won’t mention these details over the phone and it would be careless of me to post or email this type of information. Once in receipt of these documents, your role will be to alert the local authorities,’ instructed Victor Marlow.
‘But why can’t you alert the authorities in the city?’ questioned the Piedpiper, who at times couldn’t fathom Marlow’s peculiar ways.
‘With the intention of infiltrating our southern operation, it’s important that you see the list of names. Besides, I’d prefer to see the Pedley constabulary deal with this directly,’ declared the Keeper.
‘Very well,’ said the Piedpiper, believing Marlow to be somewhat pedantic about the matter.
‘I’ve given a lot of thought as to when and where our transaction could take place. The Pedley Annual Festival seems an appropriate venue,’ said Marlow.
‘But that’s only the weekend after next,’ said a surprised Piedpiper, who then added, ‘Yes, that would be ideal.’
‘Good. I don’t want to prolong this matter, for it needs to be addressed and dealt with sooner rather than later, and besides, I’ve always wanted to experience your famous carnival.’
The annual Pedley Festival was by far the town’s biggest weekend and was always the calendar event eagerly awaited by locals and visitors alike. The three-day extravaganza brought with it a grand parade filled with floats, costumes and lavish decorations. Public dancing and fancy dress was a common sight, including buskers and numerous other street performers selling their acts. Musicians filled the walkways and cafes, and a masquerade ball together with a spectacular fireworks display concluded the celebrations on the final night.
The festival’s traditional insignia of purple, green and gold adorned the buildings and the streets were transformed into a buzz of activity. Its attraction was so widespread that makeshift accommodation was always erected to cope with the influx of thousands who poured into the town each year. The commercial success alone boosted the economy to such a point that it was rumoured the state government had begun dipping into their coffers to support the cost of staging such a large-scale event.
‘The carnival weekend is like no other. It’s literally nonstop entertainment throughout the three days. It’s perhaps a good opportunity to forget the troubles of the world,’ suggested the Piedpiper.
‘I’ll look forward to it all. A change of scenery can’t hurt.’
‘Will you drive down to Pedley?’
‘I’m planning to arrive in my helicopter this time.’
‘Do you think that’s wise considering the place will be filled with cops and journalists wondering who this person may be?’
‘Makes no difference. They have no idea who I am and besides, I’ll instruct my pilot to land at the farm and arrange to have a car pick me up.’
‘So be it.’
‘Our rendezvous will be the usual underground, but I’ll phone you closer to the date to confirm. Remember, I want their bloody syndicate destroyed and the passing of these documents to the appropriate authorities will ensure their undoing,’ said the malicious Keeper.
‘Just a secondary issue I need to bring to your attention. A Sergeant Carpenter based in Pedley happened to visit Broadbent, but according to Bradbury no suspicion was aroused,’ declared the Piedpiper.
‘Do you suspect an informant in our midst?’
‘Definitely not, all my men are totally loyal and committed,’ said the regional head, annoyed by the accusation.
‘What was the purpose of his visit?’
‘He purchased wine, beer and food for some forthcoming police function. I have my people
checking this out to establish if their social gathering is genuine.’
‘It all sounds a bit suspicious to me. I mean, why wouldn’t this cop go to a supermarket instead? After all, the warehouse is a wholesale outlet and not some bloody convenience store.’
‘Claims his budget was a bit thin and the dollars would go further at Broadbent’s. Neville used his discretion by assisting the constabulary and I believe his decision was the correct one. As I said, no suspicion was aroused since the place was totally in order.’
‘Perhaps I’m overreacting and let’s face it, Bradbury always has the place immaculately presented.’
‘Anything else to report?’ asked the Piedpiper.
‘Not for the moment. Just keep me informed when you’ve completed the O’Neill interrogation with that bloody machine of yours. I’ll fill you in on the details regarding this Traffik syndicate when next we meet.’
~ * ~
F
orbes entered the bank unannounced. He had no intention of arranging an appointment with Stephen Buchanan and losing the element of surprise. He could not allow the manager time to prepare his story and the opportunity to contact Ben Johnson, the hotel publican, if the situation warranted it. An attractive young woman of slim build and sparkling eyes greeted him at the information desk. Unfortunately her total appearance was spoilt by the overuse of makeup, having been applied thicker than that of a circus clown.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I wish to see Stephen Buchanan, please.’
‘Your name please, and do you have an appointment to see the manager?’
‘My name is Detective Sergeant Alan Forbes and I have no appointment.’
‘One moment, sir. I’ll find out if he has time to see you.’
She made her way toward an office in the far corner in such style that Forbes thought she must be practising her catwalk manoeuvers for some up-and-coming fashion event. He cast an eye around this bank of modest size. There were seven customers queued and four teller windows in operation to address the daily deluge. Today the outside ATM didn’t seem to exert its influence. The woman returned, continuing her catwalk act, and Forbes felt the urge to place a book on her head to test the law of gravity in a somewhat absurd balancing act. Enough of these provocative thoughts, Forbes told himself. There was a serious matter to be addressed.
‘The manager will see you now,’ she beckoned from halfway down the catwalk.
Opening the door, Stephen Buchanan came forth to welcome the detective with an outstretched arm. He was a man in his late-forties of solid build, with a trademark pug nose from his earlier boxing years. Forbes sensed an air of caution and evasiveness about the man.
‘I’m Stephen Buchanan. How can I help you?’ Buchanan gestured for the policeman to take a seat.
‘I’m here on police business, Mr Buchanan.’
‘Oh, I was hoping we may have had the pleasure of acquiring your business.’
‘No, nothing like that. I’m here investigating the murders of Jake Reynolds and Ruth Evans, together with the Molly Bloom tragedy,’ responded Forbes calmly.
The banker’s smile was suddenly replaced by a frown and he gave the appearance of being on full alert. ‘Why would that have anything to do with me?’
‘It’s concerning your recent visit to Peterswood. We need to establish the reason behind this trip.’
‘That’s bloody ridiculous. I was up that way to do some fishing. What’s the crime in that?’ he replied, clearly agitated by Forbes’s innuendo.
‘What, fishing in the middle of a storm? Surely not.’
‘I wasn’t aware of that, and besides, the fishing had finished before the rain hit -’
‘I would’ve expected a fisherman to check the weather forecast beforehand,’ Forbes cut in. ‘Mr Buchanan, I personally witnessed a telephone call between yourself and Ben Johnson. The course of the conversation indicated that a business matter had to be finalised and he wanted to know when you were returning to Pedley.’
The banker turned a slight shade of red with this unexpected announcement.
‘I had need to assess a property in Peterswood, which Ben Johnson expressed an interest in purchasing. If the sale were to proceed the bank would finance seventy percent of the asking price, so it was necessary for me to do an independent evaluation. Ben was anxious to learn of my decision and asked when I would return to commence the paperwork.’ Buchanan wondered how this transaction could possibly be connected to the recent Pedley murders.
‘Let me enlighten you on events that took place in Peterswood at exactly the same time as this alleged business transaction.’
The detective described the plight of Brigit O’Neill and Tom Harrison at the Peterswood property, their encounters with a drug syndicate, the injuries inflicted upon the police and their eventual escape from these assailants.
Stephen Buchanan listened intently, not once interrupting. ‘I had no knowledge of this behaviour being carried out,’ he said when Forbes had finished.
‘So tell me, Mr Buchanan, was it the fishing trip or the sale of Ben Johnson’s property that persuaded you to visit Peterswood?’
‘Both.’
‘My, you do cram lot into a short amount of time. Tell me, were you alone on this excursion?’
‘No, I was accompanied by a mate of mine who is a keen fisherman.’
‘Is the Peterswood property to proceed?’
‘My advice to Ben Johnson was not to purchase. I thought the cost was exorbitant and the present owner had placed an exaggerated price through the local real estate agent to see if there were any gullible takers. The property was overpriced by some two hundred thousand when compared to similar addresses in the area.’
‘And what was Mr Johnson’s reaction?’
‘He was furious to think that someone had deliberately exploited his error of judgment. Ben has accumulated a lot of property over the years, all of which he bought marginally below market price. To the best of my recollection this is the first time he has made a poor decision with regards to property investment. Had he not asked for my independent evaluation and the bank’s financial assistance, there was every chance he would have gone through with the purchase.’
‘I’ve taken up enough of your time for today, Mr Buchanan. Thank you for seeing me at such short notice. I will see myself out,’ concluded Forbes.
Departing the bank, Forbes couldn’t help but think that something hadn’t been quite right with the interview. How odd that a fishing trip coupled with a property evaluation could be achieved in such a short time frame, and with the inconvenience of a storm to boot. Most people would separate one from the other.
The second and more puzzling aspect was Buchanan had clearly said that he opposed the purchase of the property and yet the telephone conversation had indicated that Ben Johnson had to see Buchanan at his bank upon returning to Pedley. Logic told the detective that Buchanan would surely have indicated this during the call, so why the need for a bank rendezvous if the deal fell through?
~ * ~
It was late morning when Paul Marsh entered the premises of the Esplanade Hotel. In what appeared to be organised chaotic behaviour, staff members were hastily going about their business in readiness for the expectant patrons. Trading would commence at eleven-thirty, in half an hour’s time, and there was still much preparation to be done.
As the detective wandered through the many areas of this old and conventional establishment, he could see clean glasses being organised behind the main bar, someone vacuuming in the vicinity of the horse punter’s corner and last-minute, pre-luncheon orders being arranged in the bistro. When he returned to the main saloon the sudden presence of a stunning barmaid literally stopped him in his tracks.
Wearing a cotton mesh blouse revealing sufficient cleavage, tastefully complemented by the presence of an exquisite cameo necklace, the barmaid paused from her duties to attend to Marsh’s obvious need for assistance. She was about thirty-five and her physical attr
ibutes were captivating, but there was also a degree of mystery and fascination about her presence that left the detective spellbound. She had a rare quality he seldom encountered. Why aren’t all my investigations like this, he thought.
‘May I help you?’ she enquired with welcoming eyes.
‘Ah ... yes, certainly,’ replied Marsh in a delayed reaction, almost forgetting the reason why he was here.
‘Well?’ she prompted with an encouraging smile.
Marsh pulled himself together. ‘My name is Detective Senior Constable Paul Marsh and I wish to speak to your publican, Ben Johnson, if he’s available.’
