Scorpio's Lot

by Ray Smithies

  The call was made and converted to loudspeaker.

  ‘Can you hear me, Graeme?’ Forbes said.

  ‘Loud and clear. Please proceed with your briefing and I’ll intervene where necessary,’ Bailey responded.

  For the benefit of Bailey, Forbes reiterated the story Tom Harrison had volunteered regarding the underground network beneath Pedley. Additionally, he pointed out there were reasonable grounds to suspect the site was possibly the syndicate’s regional headquarters, incorporating a storage facility and isolation area where Brigit O’Neill could be held captive.

  ‘I was led to believe the subterranean passages were a figment of the imagination, but having heard it put in this context makes one reconsider,’ Bailey said.

  ‘Keep in mind it’s still only a presumption, but with little else on offer it’s at least worth exploring the possibilities,’ said Forbes.

  ‘Certainly worth investigating,’ Bailey agreed.

  ‘The biggest hurdle, of course, is finding the location to one of these three entrances.’

  ‘And how do you propose to tackle this?’

  ‘By doing some research, Graeme. Possibly address the local and city tabloids initially and then take a visit to the Lands Department,’ said Forbes.

  ‘Yes, but I would leave this exercise until after the carnival. You already have enough to deal with over the next three to four days.’

  Forbes paused for a moment to quench his dry throat. Looking at his scribbled agenda, he decided to leave the carnival strategy and formalities until the end.

  ‘We now turn our attention to Broadbent’s. Doyle and Carpenter have submitted their report stating the warehouse was found to be clean and void of scrupulous dealings. The discovery of a second cellar also proved to be incorrupt of any dubious undertakings, this very basement being utilised as a means to store archives and disused furniture. Whilst this overall assessment was favourable for Broadbent’s, there are, however, some aspects of their business that just don’t add up.’

  ‘Can you elaborate?’ questioned Bailey.

  ‘They have an employee by the name of Travis Ferguson, more commonly referred to as Ferret, who hasn’t been sighted for nearly two days now. We hold concerns he may have met with foul play as a result of possibly being seen entering the police station the other day. Our surveillance of the warehouse intensified following Ferret’s interview, so we can only assume the syndicate is of the belief their street dealer has squealed.’

  ‘Are you implying the syndicate and Broadbent’s are one and the same?’

  ‘Not necessarily, but there’ve been suspicious developments. Two sources have since confirmed that a syndicate member called Charlie has been seen at the premises discussing drug business with Ferret. Interestingly, Broadbent manager Neville Bradbury chooses to turn a blind eye whenever the two meet. So why is this sort of behaviour tolerated? Whilst Charlie and Bradbury have never been seen having a conversation, it has nonetheless been suggested the pair appear to know each other.’

  ‘An acute observation, Alan. I would continue with the surveillance but with a more subtle approach,’ insisted Bailey.

  ‘Now to our main topic of discussion,’ Forbes continued, ‘and that is to devise and carry out an operational plan for the carnival. Today Marsh and I conferred with the carnival manager, primarily to obtain details of the procession route, in addition to knowing the general mix of exhibitors. The drawing that lies before you illustrates the path the parade will take, commencing at Bridge Street and concluding at Vincent Road. The procession is planned to start at twelve o’clock and will take a little under an hour to reach its destination. Multi-storey buildings stand on the corners of Bridge and Covert, and Pitt and Covert. There are two other tall buildings on Pitt Street, some two and three blocks down from the Covert intersection respectively.’

  ‘Seems a straightforward route,’ acknowledged Carpenter.

  Whitaker joined the discussion. ‘And were fortunate to have these multi-storey buildings to assist with aerial observation.’

  Forbes continued. ‘We now turn to your delegated duties. Burke, Carpenter, Jennings and Martino, you will man these four posts independently and from the most appropriate window sites. Marsh, Doyle, Gallagher and Parnell will observe crowd behaviour from ground level, dressed in civilian clothes. I’ll direct proceedings from multiple locations with assistance from our remaining team.’

  ‘It’s also worth mentioning that each team member will be provided with the necessary communication,’ said Whittaker.

  ‘With regards to Scorpio,’ Forbes said, ‘we believe the Keeper will arrive tomorrow, but at what time and rendezvous point is anyone’s guess. Their leader’s identity may be unknown, but given the length of time this man has been in the drug trade I would suggest we’re looking for someone who is at least fifty years of age. We also have it on good authority the Keeper intends to pass an incriminating document to the Piedpiper, and there’s every probability the exchange will be carried out amongst the mingling of the general public. Although only speculation, there’s a chance the transfer may take place during the procession, since the crowd’s attention will be drawn to the parade.’

  ‘I tend to agree,’ Bailey said from the speakerphone.

  ‘Additionally, the Piedpiper s identity is also unknown, but one consistency has emerged. This Jekyll and Hyde character is well known by the locals and possibly holds a high-profile position within the community. Therefore I recommend you pay particular attention to the behaviour of Stephen Buchanan, Neville Bradbury and Ben Johnson,’ said Forbes.

  ‘And I daresay some further choice individuals from government and local business circles,’ Whittaker added.

  ‘Consideration must be given to the possibility of having a second drug syndicate in our midst. We’ve been informed that Scorpio intends to downscale their southern operation as a result of the constabulary’s increased presence and the media’s exploitation of the case. This in turn has provided opportunity for a rival organisation to seize an established client base for an otherwise impossible penetration. Therefore you begin to understand Scorpio’s logic behind the intended incriminating document. Are there any questions?’ asked Forbes.

  ‘The use of firearms, boss?’ prompted Gallagher.

  ‘Absolutely out of the question, given the expectant crowd, unless a situation arises where self-defence becomes an issue,’ Forbes replied.

  ‘And what if the media intervene?’

  ‘Deal with it sensibly. Just ignore them.’

  ‘Do we know how the Keeper will arrive in Pedley?’ Gallagher asked.

  ‘Transport is somewhat limited. There’s no rail service to these parts and I have my doubts their supreme leader would travel by coach or boat. I suspect he’ll arrive by car.’

  ‘Do you have any further information on this rival syndicate?’ Bailey asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you have access to further resources?’

  ‘I have another eight officers at my disposal, in addition to a further six from neighbouring stations. Discussions have already been held and this backup team is scheduled to arrive at seven-thirty tomorrow morning,’ replied Forbes.

  ‘Do you intend conducting a further briefing tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve set a time for our final briefing in the morning. The intention of this meeting is to cover such areas as communication, human behaviour and observational techniques.’

  ‘Alan, I believe you’ve covered sufficient ground for now. A briefing in the morning is a good idea to cover those last-minute objectives or concerns. Please call me at the conclusion of each festival day.’ said Graeme Bailey, who then disconnected.

  ‘Thank you for your attendance, gentlemen. We’ll meet at eight in the morning.’

  ~ * ~

  The sound of an approaching Bell-47 helicopter heralded the arrival of Scorpio’s supreme leader. A cleared paddock beside the farm where Brigit O’Neill was initially held captive served as t
he syndicate’s heliport for such visits. The site proved to be an ideal cover, for the property was situated in one of many deep gullies located some three kilometres from the main road. It was often said amongst the partisan that those who went in search of the helicopter’s touchdown would take an eternity to find the appropriate valley.

  The awaiting entourage consisted of Brad Morgan and Charlie, who would provide their leader with transportation into Pedley. But in a brief lapse of concentration, the accident-prone Charlie was about to cause havoc with the Keeper’s arrival. Standing beside Morgan and looking skyward toward the approaching helicopter, he didn’t realise he had left the paddock gate open. Six Friesians had ambled their way onto the restricted area. With the ever-increasing noise from the rotor blades, the cattle became frightened and confused and began to move unpredictably. Suddenly aware of the animals, the two men hastily commenced rounding up the strays amidst a verbal abuse delivered by Morgan.

  ‘You’re a fucking idiot, Charlie. The boss’s helicopter is about to land and now this!’ yelled Morgan, desperately trying to redirect the cattle back to where they came from. Realising the situation was hopeless, he decided on radio contact regarding an alternative landing zone.

  ‘Sir,’ he said to the Keeper, ‘the stray cattle down here make it near impossible for you to land at the usual location. I suggest you land on the east side of the shed, where the winds are negligible and the overhead wires are still some distance away. I’ll mark the target with some red spray paint I have in the car.’

  Descending closer, the pilot observed the flashing lights on Morgan’s car near the specified target. He couldn’t understand the logic behind this formality, given the broad daylight and perpetual sunshine. Rather than land immediately, he performed a 270-degree turn high reconnaissance over the farmland. He informed his important passenger during the east-north-east pass that he was able to see the red cross provided by Morgan. He slowed the near fifteen-metre, rotor-span helicopter down to an effective translational lift, then commenced a slow right turn to align with the landing zone in preparation to begin the low reconnaissance.

  During his descent he noticed at his one o’clock position a Friesian cow running toward the red cross. He immediately applied corrective pitch and made a wide right turn to perform a go-round procedure. In doing so he ventured outside his comfort zone. Suddenly he saw power lines at around thirty metres below and in front of the craft at his eight o’clock and two o’clock positions. Aware of the immediate danger, he applied power and aft cyclic to climb quickly to safety.

  By this stage Victor Marlow was livid with the circus being performed below. Grabbing the two-way communication he screamed at the two imbeciles to shoot the bloody cow if it refused to leave. Morgan and Charlie continued with their antics, from screaming abuse to throwing any conceivable missile they could lay their hands on. By a stroke of luck and not good management, the Friesian belted toward a nearby hill, allowing free passage for the pilot to perform his descent. Resting squarely on the makeshift red cross, he shut down the helicopter engines and rotors, allowing the Keeper to exit and step upon terra firma.

  Marlow immediately ducked under the whirlwind of the slowing blade rotation and walked across to his two subordinates. ‘What in God’s name are you two doing?’ he roared.

  ‘My fault, sir, the cattle came through an open gate,’ confessed a nervous Charlie.

  ‘Charlie, if I didn’t know better I’d think sabotage was on your mind!’

  ‘Sir, there’s been a change in plans regarding your rendezvous with the Piedpiper,’ Morgan said to his angry superior. ‘The crowds in Pedley are exceptionally large, so to eliminate the risk of exposing the underground network the Piedpiper has a more suitable place in mind and has asked if you could phone upon your arrival.’

  Marlow reached for his mobile and called the Piedpiper. ‘I’ve arrived at the farm,’ he said.

  ‘Excellent. I trust you had a good flight?’ enquired the Piedpiper.

  ‘I was nearly killed!’

  ‘What!’

  ‘That’s another story. I’ll tell you about it later.’

  ‘Very well, Victor,’ acknowledged the regional head and then proceeded to explain their change in plans. ‘Okay, this is the present situation. With the crowds now congregated in Pedley, I believe it’s far too dangerous to meet underground for fear of our entrance being observed.’

  ‘That’s understandable. Where do you have in mind?’

  ‘First, did you bring the document?’

  ‘Yes, and it’s vital I hand it across at our earliest opportunity. I believe your cover to be more secure than mine since only three people know your identity. With the possibility of Traffik being in town, there’s still a remote chance that someone in their organisation may recognise me. It’s unlikely but I can’t afford to take the risk, so it’s imperative we make the exchange today,’ insisted the Keeper.

  ‘I still maintain I could have met you at the farm and saved you the trouble in town.’

  ‘And as I’ve stated before, we cannot be seen together in public. How many more times do I have to bloody remind you! Under no circumstances will I allow anyone the opportunity to witness a possible link. Your cover must remain intact.’

  ‘But the farm is hardly what I’d call a public arena.’

  ‘In our game you take no chances,’ Marlow said, ‘and besides, the helicopter may have aroused someone’s idle curiosity. So where do we make this exchange since the underground is now out of the question?’

  ‘I suggest we cross paths during the parade, which is due to commence in just over an hour. Everybody’s attention will be focused on the procession and therefore it’ll be an opportune time to pass the document discreetly. I’ll be positioned on the east side of Pitt Street between Covert and Williams,’ explained the Piedpiper.

  ‘Very well, but under no circumstances are we to acknowledge each other’s presence. And be prepared, for fate may only allow one chance at this exchange. The sooner this transaction’s completed the better, just in case I’m spotted. We’ll meet this evening in the underground for discussions around nine,’ said Marlow.

  ‘Agreed. Tell me, Victor, could you recognise any members of the Traffik syndicate?’

  ‘I believe three would be recognisable. With regards to their members, the document makes reference to five such people, outlining full names, addresses and telephone numbers. Unfortunately their supreme leader remains anonymous. Supposedly he’s closely guarded by his inner sanctum. Despite this setback, the exposure of these five individuals to the authorities will be enough to destroy their operation.’

  ‘Fine. All is now in readiness for our rendezvous at the carnival. Remember, east side between Covert and Williams on Pitt Street,’ reiterated the Piedpiper.

  ‘Just one last thing,’ said Marlow. ‘Do not underestimate the police. They’ll be out in numbers, both uniformed and plainclothes. Be extremely wary of their observation from both building sites and ground level.’

  ~ * ~

  B

  y 11.30 am the crowds had swelled to a figure exceeding twenty thousand. Pitt Street in particular was lined ten-deep in places, with many people having arrived early to secure a vantage point. I could feel the excitement mounting in anticipation of a spectacular parade. Today these many thousands would host the mood. The length of Pitt Street was draped with every conceivable decoration imaginable. Additionally, the carnival’s traditional colours of purple (representing justice), green (depicting faith) and gold (symbolising power) took pride of place. In the company of Emily and Martha Kellett, I stood waiting to view this expectant burst of vibrant energy.

  Whilst I eagerly awaited the parade, there was also the issue regarding Scorpio and its supreme leader’s arrival I couldn’t ignore. Burke had taken the liberty of advising me of the syndicate’s intention, claiming a further set of eyes observing crowd behaviour could only assist with their limited numbers.

  A sudden fanfare o
f trumpets heralded the commencement of the parade, much to the delight of the children and cheering crowd. Turning right from Covert into Pitt, the procession was led by a brass band playing ‘Dixie’, immediately followed by the first exhibit depicting Neptune, the Roman god of the sea. The float came complete with a swimming pool and an abundance of mermaids frolicking within its waters. High above the corner building, a cascade of confetti showered down upon the old man of the sea and his aquatic entourage in a highly effective, shimmering spectacle. Following Neptune, the equally superb floats of Noah’s Ark, with its abundance of animals, and the hoisting of the Jolly Roger on a pirate ship, including some captive walking the plank, brought up the rear.

  Among the parade of marching girls, a man on stilts and a trio of jugglers performed their balancing acts. Four and five year olds screamed with excitement upon seeing a Punch and Judy Show performed on a passing cart, while clowns entertained children and adults alike with their antics and acrobatic routines. A chamber of horrors float bearing first prize was a sight to behold, capturing the macabre relics of the French Revolution with the death masks of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Not to be outdone, the infamous Madame Guillotine, together with other Bastille delights, took centre stage on the float. A torture wheel and the garrote strangling instrument, amid further execution methods, completed the display. The morbid float, while superbly exhibited, seemed inappropriate for the occasion, I thought.