Scorpio's Lot

by Ray Smithies

  From his office desk pressing away at the keyboard of an IBM laptop, the warehouse manager caught a glimpse of the new arrival. Abandoning his somewhat laborious duty, he cautiously approached the man to establish his business at this unusual trading hour. He looks a mean critter, thought the manager, realising he required a courteous approach.

  ‘May I help you?’ he asked politely.

  ‘Yes, I’m looking for Neville Bradbury.’

  ‘That’s me, and who might you be?’

  ‘My name is Gino Palmero. I’ve been sent here by Marcus Powell.’

  ‘Ah Gino, I’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Pedley and Broadbent Warehouse,’ replied Bradbury with his usual infectious smile.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re travelling light, I see.’

  ‘Only pack what’s necessary,’ Palmero responded in keeping with his precise answers.

  ‘Why don’t you lighten the load and drop your bag off in the office and I’ll show you around the place,’ offered the manager.

  ‘I’d prefer to hold onto my bag,’ he replied.

  ‘As you wish.’

  Neville Bradbury guided Palmero through the premises, initially taking him on the mezzanine floor to show him the extent of their merchandise. A trip into the coolroom and then a visit through to the kitchen and games room finally brought a reaction from the sombre individual. The manager had worked overtime to create conversation, receiving zilch in return for his efforts, until now.

  ‘Ah pool and darts, my two favourite pastimes,’ Palmero said.

  ‘Yes, a good addition to the premises which creates morale and harmony in the place. The guys work hard so I see it as a bit of a reward.’

  ‘Great idea,’ acknowledged Palmero.

  ‘I’ll show you our prized collection of wine in the cellar next,’ offered Bradbury, who then led his visitor down the steep basement staircase.

  Gino Palmero appeared impressed with the variety on sale. He particularly had a liking for the Shiraz and Cabernet reds and could often polish off a choice bottle over an evening meal. Conversation suddenly picked up momentum, with the visitor questioning the wine regions and vintages on display. Choose the appropriate subject and you win people over every time, thought Bradbury.

  On their return to ground level the manager decided it was time to introduce his staff, who had obligingly worked back to clear the backlog of orders. It was important to at least make Palmero’s presence known and that his services would indeed be welcomed to assist with the already strained resources.

  Realising the pleasantries had run their course, it was now time to get down to business. The Piedpiper would be expecting a telephone call and Bradbury didn’t want to delay the matter longer than was necessary. Returning to his office he immediately dialed the number and waited for the anticipated connection.

  ‘I have Gino Palmero sitting beside me in my office, Piedpiper.’

  ‘Very good, pass him the phone, Neville.’

  ‘Gino speaking.’

  ‘Thank you for your prompt arrival this evening. Marcus Powell speaks very highly of you, Gino, and advises we have a useful addition to our southern operation. Your duties will entail a multi-functional role, where your initial tasks will be to assist Neville at Broadbent’s in addition to some chores within the underground network. Our drug reserves need to be reduced, which is a directive from head office, and it’s our intention to achieve this target within the space of one month. Your inclusion to our team has now made this goal a realistic objective. With no disrespect intended, I will not reveal myself within the short-term period. Our success has largely been credited to keeping my identity intact. Please be assured you will have my full support. Do you have any questions, Gino?’

  ‘Yes, where will I be staying?’

  ‘Neville has agreed to put you up until we find something more suitable. Tomorrow evening we have arranged a full tour of the subterranean passageways. This will incorporate a further two members you’ll be introduced to and be closely associated with over the next few months. Please confer with Neville if you need to speak to me. I must go now,’ concluded the Piedpiper, who then disconnected the line.

  ‘Your boss comes straight to the point,’ said Palmero.

  ‘And the only way it should be,’ said Bradbury. ‘The Piedpiper runs a tight ship down here that’s both fair and disciplined. Our group is not large by city standards, but it’s a well-managed and highly efficient unit. Our revenue has at times achieved the highest national figures, which is an enormous achievement for a regional outlet.’

  ‘Impressive,’ was Palmero’s short but diplomatic answer.

  It was difficult to hide the delight on Neville’s face. This latest acquisition would now help in reducing those troublesome stock levels. Finally some common sense had prevailed following all the turmoil of recent times.

  ~ * ~

  T

  he following morning at nine am Forbes requested an attendance with his now extended taskforce. A special meeting had been called to address the three sites which would provide entry to the subterranean passageways. Initially it was necessary to discuss a strategy that was both practical and unobtrusive to the premises and land in question. Forbes realised his men couldn’t simply arrive onsite and commence excavating with a jackhammer or similar tool at will.

  No, their approach required some forward planning and logical procedure. With the office virtually bursting at the seams, the men sat in wait for the detective to commence his briefing. As to be expected, the three sites, written by Tom Harrison the previous day, conspicuously remained on Forbes’ beloved whiteboard. The remaining six had been erased.

  ‘I’ve called this meeting to discuss some strategies with respect to the three known landmarks that will ultimately provide access to Scorpio’s underground network,’ Forbes commenced. ‘It’s important to address our sequence of actions, as opposed to arriving at site with a collection of tools or machinery that will ultimately cause mayhem to those on the premises. And besides, we would need authority before this sort of action can be carried out.’

  ‘Sir, do you plan to conduct these visits today?’ Martino asked.

  ‘Yes, Martino, but I’m coming to that. I’ve devised a plan in two stages. I have twenty men at my disposal - a sufficient number for what I have in store. Today our efforts will concentrate on the Botanical Gardens and RSL Club. Two groups consisting of ten apiece will be directed to these sites shortly. I’ve decided to delay and conduct a random search of Broadbent’s tomorrow, which will encompass the entire group assembled here today.’

  ‘Would twenty people be necessary?’ queried Parnell.

  ‘With no offence intended, our previous visits to Broadbent’s have proven futile. We now know with a high degree of certainty the warehouse is more than suspect and it may take all twenty men to unearth this elusive entrance.’

  ‘With all due respect, I’m at a loss as to where a passageway could be located. We were very thorough with our previous search,’ claimed Doyle.

  ‘Obviously not thorough enough,’ insisted Forbes, who was prepared to let the matter ride until his detective spoke up in defence.

  ‘So does today imply that only an observation is to be carried out, or do we return with appropriate equipment if considered necessary?’ questioned Carpenter.

  ‘Sergeant, in case you didn’t hear me earlier, we need clearance before equipment can be brought in. I suggest you phone me to discuss the circumstances and ramifications and then we’ll make an appropriate decision. If there are no more questions I will divide our two groups as follows.’ Forbes paused and with no response he continued. ‘Burke, Parnell, Martino and I will visit the RSL Club, together with six men from our extended backup. Gallagher, Marsh, Doyle, Carpenter and the remaining men will check out the gravel road site at the botanical gardens. We’ll report back here at say ... two o’clock.’ Forbes checked his watch to allow sufficient time.

  The short winding trip
to reach the peak of the cliff caught the constabulary a little off guard. Excluding Carpenter, who had previously visited the site, the remaining men in the taskforce were surprised at the sheer gradient of the incline and closeness to the cliff edge. It was no place for faint hearts. The gravel road was reasonably maintained and provided sufficient passageway to permit two-way traffic.

  Reaching the summit, the short trip was rewarding if only for the vantage point alone. The 360-degree uninterrupted view was a sight to behold. The locals often referred to Sunset Lookout as the most dominant and unsurpassed pinnacle in the area. To one side a panoramic view of Pedley beckoned, as did the distant farmlands and forests which lay on an illusion of carpet in its dozen shades of green. To the other the tranquil setting of the Botanical Gardens dominated the foreground, complemented by a backdrop of Sapphire Bay and the distant ocean. Aptly named, the cliff site was the perfect setting to bring your partner at dusk.

  Scenery aside, Sunset Lookout provided a surprisingly large flattened area at its peak, despite its collection of granite-like boulders that were accumulated in a central position. The large rock formation almost appeared manmade as if purposely erected in some cylindrical order by way of crane hire.

  The police stared at the unusual rock face structure, for each section of granite was thinly layered and seemed to hover at around eighty degrees if defying the laws of gravity. Two and three thin rock layers leaned on each other, standing almost perpendicular as if they were giant tablets that were once written on from a bygone age.

  The granite phenomenon was indeed a strange sight to behold. A further series of rocks, most resembling small boulders which were earth-embedded, could be seen scattered around the monolithic tablets in no particular order. The plateau they stood on was treeless, compensated by some seaside scrub that had grown to an acute angle due to the unrelenting coastal winds.

  The men commenced their surveillance of the area, painstakingly looking under every nook and cranny in their path. One noticeable feature was quite apparent from the cliff side of the giant boulders. A previously grassed section resting directly in front of the monolithic tablets had virtually been turned to dirt, reminiscent of a well-worn doormat that gave the impression of being frequently stepped on.

  ‘But why this one area?’ called Marsh.

  ‘That’s weird because it suddenly stops beside this boulder. There’s certainly no continuing footpath to be seen from the far side,’ acknowledged Doyle.

  ‘Perhaps it’s a favourite spot to unload a blanket and some picnic stuff,’ Carpenter suggested.

  ‘No, I can’t buy that. This area is set too far back to maximise the view,’ said Gallagher with an air of assurance.

  ‘It’s certainly a busy area though. You’ve only got to look at the amount of cigarette butts that have accumulated in this one spot,’ observed Carpenter.

  ‘Although not as dominant, you can just make out a slightly worn track leading from this dirt patch to the gravel roadside,’ Marsh claimed.

  ‘Yes, it almost gives the impression that whoever ventures to this bit is not particularly interested in the remainder of the area,’ declared Doyle.

  With most of the team studying the slightly worn path, Gallagher then spotted a set of footprints embedded on the bare ground. There had been light rain over the past two days, which had resulted in some mud being formed in the dirt patches. The imprints looked relatively fresh, thought Gallagher. Possibly one or two days old.

  The men continued to survey the total area leaving nothing to chance. To the rear of the boulders the grass remained intact providing no evidence of periodical traffic. The ground to the far end was equally as flat, suggesting that no entrance was possible from such exposed terrain.

  Carpenter observed a large metal pole inserted in the far edge of the plateau. Curiosity took him a few paces closer to inspect the relevance of this isolated rod. On reaching the vertically embedded shaft, he gained the impression it was no more than a large metal tent pole, perhaps left behind by some recent campers. He called on his colleague for a second opinion.

  ‘What do you make of this, John?’

  ‘Looks pretty harmless, maybe an upright beam from a tent or marquee,’ replied Doyle, who immediately went over to release the pole from its inset.

  Groaning and grunting, he couldn’t weaken its hold. Following half a dozen failed attempts to free the stubborn pole he declared, ‘The bloody thing won’t budge. Must be concreted in. How odd.’

  Leaving behind the mysterious pole, the two policemen returned to the central collection of granite to discuss the overall possibilities. Gallagher summed up the general consensus.

  ‘There can only be one possible answer - the entrance must lie behind one of these granite slabs. I mean, where else could you possibly look. There’s simply nothing further to offer.’

  ‘Totally agree. You only have to look at the evidence at hand,’ agreed Doyle, who was determined not to return empty-handed following his failed surveillance of Broadbent’s. Doyle was adamant that he would not let Forbes down a second time. Find the bloody entrance and he would be back in the good books.

  Gallagher continued. ‘Remember what Brigit O’Neill said over the phone - a gravel road around fifteen metres from the entrance. The area directly in front of the rock face suggests a number of people have visited here and that theory’s supported by a slightly worn-path out to the roadway. Brigit spoke of a grinding mechanical sound that was most likely a door opening and it gave the impression of something heavy like metal or stone being moved. Again the coincidence is too blatant to ignore, for the movement of this granite would surely create such a noise.’

  ‘I can picture one of those stone houses from the convict days being erected on this site. I’m sure the authorities at the time would have selected the prime spots on offer,’ declared Doyle.

  Ignoring his colleague’s fascination of the past, Gallagher was more interested in the practical side of things. ‘Our next step will be to find something appropriate to force the bloody thing open! Surely we wouldn’t need clearance for this.’

  ‘Yeah, providing a truck can handle the weight of machinery going up and down this incline,’ replied Carpenter.

  The crew pondered over the possibilities. They were quite adamant this site led to one of the entrances. It was now only a matter of time.

  ~ * ~

  Arriving at the RSL Club, the immediate impression was the lack of activity. A side bitumen driveway ran its straight course to a rear car park where only six stationery vehicles offered any sign of life. It was Wednesday morning and obviously not a popular time for members to be patronising the premises. Most of these cars would undoubtedly belong to staff, thought Forbes.

  A short walk to reception saw the men greeted by the assistant manager, who welcomed the officers with a courteous but wary smile. It wasn’t every day that ten policemen stepped forth from the lobby. She was a tall, well-groomed, bespectacled woman of around thirty who appeared puzzled by the sudden presence of the law.

  ‘Good morning, can I help you?’

  ‘We wish to have a word with your manager please,’ said Forbes.

  ‘Certainly, one moment,’ she responded, leaving her desk.

  A short plumpish man, who looked in need of some exercise, approached the police with what could only be described as a forced smile. He wore an unbuttoned suit that gave the impression the vest could never be secured due to his mid-section bulge. The man of around forty-five extended his arm for the customary handshake with Forbes.

  ‘My name is Alex McLeod. How can I help the police?’

  Following introductions and pleasantries, Forbes took the manager to one side to explain their intentions. McLeod listened intently, his eyes unblinking and widening at the unexpected news. He nodded frequently at Forbes’ unfolding story and appeared to accept and cooperate with the detective’s wish list. After Forbes ordered the manager to keep the matter under tight wraps, the two men returned to t
he waiting entourage.

  ‘Gentlemen, Mr McLeod has kindly granted us free reign of the premises. I’ve explained the situation and he has agreed to total confidentiality. I have stressed to Mr McLeod that any structural removal or excavation processes will only be carried out if deemed absolutely necessary. Today is simply an assessment of the property both internally and of the grounds. The manager has agreed to a guided tour and he will then leave us to further investigate any aspect in more detail.’