Scorpio's Lot

by Ray Smithies

  ‘Bloody hell, unlimited supply of heroin is cause for concern.’ said Parnell.

  ‘There’s a further point I find rather interesting,’ Forbes said. ‘Ferret seemed to give the impression his arrival at the police station was being observed. He appeared nervous and kept peering through my office window toward the front street as if he was looking for someone. In the end I asked him if everything was all right, but he wouldn’t elaborate.’

  ‘Do you believe there may be a connection with Broadbent?’ asked Gallagher.

  ‘Initially I didn’t, since Carpenter reported the warehouse appeared to run a legitimate business. But the more I think about it the more I tend to believe that something is not quite right. Maybe it’s just a premonition, but some things just don’t add up,’ Forbes replied.

  ‘Can you elaborate?’

  ‘Both Ferret and Danny Murdock work at the warehouse and the elusive Charlie just happens to select these premises to discuss classified matters. An equally intriguing incident was the day Carpenter paid a visit and happened to hear a noise coming from behind the bluestone wall in the cellar.’

  ‘What was that all about?’ Bailey asked Carpenter.

  ‘Well, boss, there was certainly a noise but I can’t be absolutely sure where it came from. I believe the likely answer was from behind the wall and not the ceiling, because when I returned above ground there was no evidence of some heavy object placed on the floor above the cellar. If this noise did come from behind the wall then there’s more to Broadbent’s than meets the eye.’

  ‘I would obtain a search warrant to have these premises thoroughly checked out,’ suggested Bailey.

  ‘It had crossed my mind and I daresay this could be carried out in the next day or two,’ contributed Forbes.

  ‘I don’t understand why you’re suspicious of Tom Harrison,’ challenged Darren Burke.

  ‘We’ll come back to Tom Harrison shortly. For the moment let’s just concentrate on the remaining people upon the whiteboard.’

  It was Sergeant Burke who persisted with his superior’s insinuations. ‘I fully understand the need to pursue most of these people, but why Hamish O’Connor and Helen O’Neill?’

  ‘It was O’Connor’s recommendation that the high road to Seddon be taken to board the Molly Bloom, which would serve as an alternative route and safe passage back to Pedley. No one else had prior knowledge of this intended voyage until a phone call was placed later to alert the Pedley Police Station of a change in plans.’

  ‘But Hamish suggested this alternative route due to the floods in the region,’ responded a forceful Burke, who had become utterly confused as to where all this was heading. ‘That morning the Bureau of Meteorology issued a warning to the effect that all major roads leading into Pedley were impassable.’

  Ignoring the sergeant, Forbes continued. ‘Hamish O’Connor had opportunity to phone for help during Tom and Brigit’s escapade and, may I add, while Burke and Martino were incapacitated. For whatever reason he chose not to contact the authorities. That strikes me as somewhat odd given the grave circumstances.’

  Burke defended Hamish’s actions. ‘Correction. He couldn’t phone because the landline had been cut.’

  ‘So why not use his mobile phone? According to Martino, it was clipped to O’Connor’s waist belt. Quite convenient, wouldn’t you say?’ Forbes was trading punches as if he intended to be the last man standing.

  ‘Again I disagree,’ said Burke. ‘Hamish lost his mobile when he went outside to attend to the Dobermans. Besides, even if he did make an attempt, a weak signal may have prevented the call from being made. After all, the area is notorious for poor communication.’

  ‘I can’t deny that is possible.’

  ‘And why Helen O’Neill?’

  ‘I’m only working on a hunch or premonition, but something is niggling inside that tells me there’s more to Helen O’Neill than meets the eye. I mean, why would it take the woman three full days to contact the police about the kidnapping of her stepdaughter? There’s another matter that doesn’t sit comfortably. She had opportunity to bring Brigit to the police long before her daughter’s eventual departure for Peterswood. So why didn’t she make the effort? It doesn’t reflect the actions and concerns of a mother, or in her case, stepmother.’

  ‘So why Tom Harrison?’ persisted Sergeant Burke. ‘Surely any half-decent individual would have their niece’s best interests at heart.’

  Ignoring the swipe, Forbes continued. ‘This individual really takes the cake. He has deliberately led the police in every which direction and has forced me to assign valuable resources on his country jaunts. He had ample opportunity to surrender Brigit to the authorities, but consistently chose to ignore our instructions. As I pointed out in our last interview, his actions implied he deliberately kept Brigit from authorities, perhaps because it was his intention to reap some financial reward from the syndicate. His undoing was upon the Molly Bloom where his competitors had the numbers to relieve him of his duty.’

  ‘With all due respect, that’s bloody ridiculous.’ Burke was livid with these unfounded accusations. ‘The man stated he had tried to bring Brigit to the police on more than one occasion, but the syndicate intervened to foil his every attempt. You only had to be in Peterswood to see that his motives were totally honourable, with Brigit’s interests held in the highest regard.

  ‘I support Sergeant Burke totally,’ Martino said, to the shock of everyone for having the courage to support his sergeant and contradict Forbes. ‘Speaking from my own experience at Peterswood, Tom Harrison’s actions were nothing short of praiseworthy for his bravery and judgement in keeping these assailants at bay.’

  Burke was impressed with the young man’s spontaneous backup. Bailey could immediately see that Alan Forbes’ insinuations had hit a raw nerve with the men. It was time to intervene to keep a lid on things.

  ‘Alan, your accusations cannot be supported with fact,’ Bailey said. ‘They are purely speculation and I daresay intensified by Tom Harrison giving you the runaround. This is not a time for personal vendettas or to act on some premonition. Above all, it’s a time to put some constructive actions in place so this evil organisation is placed behind bars where it belongs.’

  Bailey rose from his chair and walked across to the whiteboard. ‘With regards to this case, it is my recommendation the following matters be given top priority. With your permission I wish to replace these notes with some bullet points that I believe are more appropriate.’

  Forbes frowned and then gave an agreeable nod. After all, Graeme Bailey marginally held rank.

  Burke couldn’t help but think that with Bailey’s presence this group may finally have some constructive directives, as opposed to the vendettas and hunches that surrounded the logic of Alan Forbes.

  Bailey turned to face his audience upon the completion of rewriting the whiteboard, with the instruction to digest and retain these important aspects of the case:

  Investigate and prepare in readiness for the Keeper’s arrival.

  Devise plan for carnival with drug members and possible rival gang in mind.

  Further interrogate Ferret with emphasis upon the drug operation. Arrange a search warrant for Broadbent’s.

  Continue in search of Brigit O’Neill’s whereabouts.

  Arrange discreet interview with Danny Murdock with emphasis upon Broadbent’s.

  Continue to explore the whereabouts of drug headquarters and storage facility.

  ‘Gentlemen, these are what I consider to be your current priorities,’ Bailey began. ‘I cannot emphasise strongly enough that most of these matters need to be addressed prior to the carnival. So with only three days remaining time is of the essence to devise a plan to deal with the arrival of the Keeper. Opportunity knocks rarely when we speak of this individual because to the best of my knowledge this is the very first time we’ve been forewarned about his intended whereabouts. It’s vital you speak further with this Ferret fellow to establish if there is indee
d a description of the man and how and where he will arrive, in addition to his would-be rendezvous point with the southern operation.

  ‘Additionally, there is the likelihood the Keeper will enjoy the spoils of his trip, meaning it’s highly probable he will be amongst the spectators during the carnival. His presence will undoubtedly encourage further members of the organisation to surface throughout the weekend, with also the possibility of a rival syndicate in attendance. There is every chance the elusive Piedpiper will at some point be mingling amongst the crowd as well. Don’t worry about the lack of ID with these individuals because it won’t stop you observing any unusual behaviour. Do not overlook the Keeper’s intention for visiting and that is the incriminating evidence which supposedly is to be passed to the authorities at some point over the coming weekend.

  ‘Danny Murdock may still prove useful with respect to Broadbent and I daresay a second interview will need to be carried out discreetly for the young lad’s sake. His testimony was indeed our breakthrough, so it’s possible there maybe further information to be extracted. I agree with Forbes that the Broadbent premises justify further investigation and that a search warrant be quickly arranged. While you may easily be led into investigating these priorities, don’t be distracted from the very core of the case in hand, and that is their drug headquarters, storage facility, murders committed and the kidnapping of Brigit O’Neill.

  ‘And finally,’ Bailey said, ‘do not concern yourselves with interviewing the remaining persons until after the carnival. These people have little or no value over the next week, so your resources should be directed in preparation for the coming weekend. It’s time for me to return to the city now and I don’t ask, but request, that my department be kept informed at all times on any developments.’

  ~ * ~

  T

  onight Detective Marsh decided to mix business with pleasure. His intended destination was the Esplanade Hotel and he was fully aware that Piochsa was on duty. Perhaps with a little persuasion she would agree to accompany him for coffee and a nightcap following the end of her shift. Entering the main saloon he was confronted with the usual array of locals each bellowing out their respective vocals as if competing for some loudmouth award. Approaching the bar in need of a lager on tap, he tried to catch the attention of Piochsa but his attempts went unheeded as a result of her attending the thirsty patrons at the far end. Not to worry, he thought, as a barman took his order. There would be plenty of time for discussion when ordering that second drink.

  Retreating with his ice-cold ale, he decided to take up a vantage point at the rear of the saloon and observe the behaviour of the security guards. His attention was drawn to two massively built steroid-enhanced bouncers who were pacing the length of the room. Their appearance was intimidating as these sullen-faced guardians continued with their straight-line approach, parting drinking schools and all before them in their quest to reach the far end of the saloon.

  Forever the one to play games and turn an otherwise dull event into a light-hearted moment, Marsh decided to name these pair Tweedledee and Tweedledum for the benefit of his own private entertainment. He was trying to picture these two in some outlandish and colourful costume as portrayed in the children’s classic Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

  Marsh’s second glass now beckoned and maybe he would have the opportunity to chat with Piochsa. His advances were rewarded with a welcoming smile. The sudden reappearance of Piochsa’s long, honey-blond hair, her flawless complexion and distinct light-blue eyes were a sight to behold, as was the rest of the package. Piochsa’s presence did not disappoint, for she still held a degree of mystery and fascination that had him intrigued.

  ‘My, you are the brave one for venturing into our neck of the woods,’ she said with a cheeky, wide grin.

  ‘I would say pleased to see you, Piochsa, not brave.’

  She let out a hugely contagious laugh. ‘Why, Mr Detective, I’m impressed with your pronunciation. So I’m no longer a motorcar?’ said Piochsa, recalling Paul’s mispronunciation of her name. ‘I’m actually referring to our publican Ben Johnson. The two of you didn’t exactly hit it off with your first meeting.’

  ‘Oh that, nothing to lose sleep over. Comes with the job,’ Marsh responded.

  Piochsa poured his lager. ‘So what brings you to the Esplanade with less than an hour before closing?’

  ‘Two reasons, actually The first is to observe the behaviour of hotel security due to reports about drug deals.’

  ‘Those two goons. They’re all brawn with no intellect and have the personality of a cadaver at an undertaker’s convention.’

  ‘My, you are the regular wound-up one. I must have hit a raw nerve,’ Paul replied with a hint of payback sarcasm. ‘Tell me, Piochsa, how many thugs does Johnson employ?’

  ‘Five in all but they work on a rotating shift so you never know which two prima donnas will be on duty.’

  ‘I’ve actually called these two Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Just a little game I play with myself to lighten the load at times.’

  Piochsa roared with laughter, believing the detective’s choice of names was close to hitting the spot. ‘So, Paul, what’s your second reason for being here?’

  ‘So I can take you to a coffee lounge with perhaps a tempting nightcap after your shift.’

  ‘Depends what nightcap you have in mind.’

  ‘Um ... perhaps a Sambuca or maybe a cocktail of your choice.’

  ‘You’ve been doing some homework behind my back, haven’t you? How did you know Sambuca’s my favourite?’

  ‘Oh, just a wild guess.’ Marsh was hardly able to contain his emotions with this unexpected good luck.

  ‘Yes, I would like that, but nothing too late because I’ll be up at seven in the morning for my next shift,’ Piochsa responded. ‘Paul, I must keep moving for there are customers to be served. I will see you shortly.’

  Pleased with himself, Marsh returned to his original drinking location to further observe proceedings. As it was almost half an hour prior to closure the patron numbers had reduced considerably, allowing him more visual contact with the behaviour of security.

  The two bouncers maintained their never-ending ritual of pacing the length of the bar, together with an occasional random check on both the neighbouring poker venue and dining room facility. Tonight had provided security with a relatively quiet and trouble-free evening. Believing this to be the case, Marsh’s frame of mind had moved into countdown mode in anticipation of his rendezvous with Piochsa when a late arrival appeared through the main bar entrance door.

  A man of around five-eight in height and unfriendly appearance made his way directly toward one of the bouncers, as if on a mission to announce some last-minute instruction. He was impeccably dressed, to the point of looking totally out of place amongst the patron’s attire of denim and lumber jackets. After all, this was a haven for serious drinkers and not some catwalk parade on cup day. He had an air of authority or perhaps a degree of arrogance as he marched across the floor toward his objective. As the detective watched, the man retrieved a small brown envelope from his pocket and put it into the outstretched hand of Tweedledee.

  Marsh’s curiosity level had just quadrupled. Was it simply an innocent exchange? Or was it some drug-related substance or messenger instruction? He had been forewarned about some shonky deals being performed in this very establishment. It was time to wander over and investigate.

  Somewhat surprised at the sudden appearance of Paul Marsh invading their space, the new arrival spoke up. ‘Bloody hell! You’ve got the whole fucking bar to rest your glass, so beat it.’

  ‘What’s in the envelope?’ asked Marsh, directing his question toward the bouncer.

  The stranger spoke up. ‘None of your fucking business! This is your last warning, sunshine, or I’ll have my friend throw you out.’

  Displaying his badge, Marsh continued. ‘I’ll make it my business, so let’s see the contents.’

  Tweedledee looked at
the stranger as if seeking confirmation to pass the contents. Realising it would be foolish to disobey the authorities, Tweedledee reluctantly passed the envelope, much to the annoyance of his colleague.

  The detective peered at a collection of notes. ‘Well, well, a nice little sum of money. There must be at least three grand in here. People just don’t go around carrying this sort of cash on them, so what’s this all about?’

  ‘I’m only passing on some winnings, officer,’ claimed the stranger.

  ‘And what sort of winnings might they be?’

  ‘Horseracing. Gavin had a win today and I’m acting on behalf of the bookmaker.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Name of the bookmaker?’ Marsh was deliberately testing the man.

  ‘Stuart Ellis.’