Scorpio's Lot (46 page)

ife
at the park had taken on a somewhat sombre mood following the
Molly Bloom
tragedy and kidnapping of Brigit. Tenant numbers were down as a result of Ruth
Evans’ murder, and Kurt Muller appeared to be in his element with the absence
of police snooping around. Within reason, the park now seemed to be his domain
to do whatever he sought fit with it. In his world, life was indeed back to
normal.

From a positive aspect, Emily had
been inundated with the constant flow of friends who had lent their support
following my ordeal and the apparent repercussions at the caravan park. Martha
Kellett continued to provide an endless supply of homemade cooking and at the
same time had arranged for her handyman, Sam, to attend the gardening and give
the park a much-needed facelift. Marge Samson had called one day, as had Jill
Wallace and Sally Jones on their twice-weekly visits.

I didn’t begrudge Emily her
social calls, believing the company would be beneficial and perhaps a bit like
a recovery therapy in light of all the drama over the past week. But why only
Em? I thought. With her exception, where was my shoulder to lean on? I smiled
inwardly, thinking funny how life directs its humanity element in one
direction. After all, I was the one who had witnessed the
Molly Bloom
murders, Brigit’s kidnapping and who bore the brunt of Forbes’ gruelling
session. I detested self-pity and was not one to draw attention to such
matters, but nonetheless I was still amused by these irregularities in human
behaviour. Perhaps it was a female thing after all?

My contemplation was suddenly
interrupted by the sound of a pounding ring coming from the reception counter
bell. Was it Kurt again on his usual mission of impossible demands? Or was it a
further enquiry regarding accommodation for the forthcoming carnival weekend? I
turned the living room corner to reception and the beaming smile of Arthur
Simpson greeted me.

‘Why, Arthur, you old scoundrel,
what a nice surprise.’

‘I couldn’t wait any longer for
that drink you promised me,’ Arthur announced, recalling my comment when we
last spoke in the plumbing shop.

‘Beer?’

‘Yes. But seriously, Tom, how are
things with you and Emily after what you’ve both been through?’

‘Em’s at her friend’s place today
and feeling much better, thanks. As for me, I’m fine now. Just suffered a bit
of shock following the
Molly Bloom
incident, but nothing a good rest won’t
cure.’

‘Terrible situation, that, and to
think what all those people went through.’

‘The part that cuts deep has been
the insinuation made by Forbes.’

‘Oh?’ prompted Arthur.

‘The guy blatantly accused me of
trying to kidnap Brigit for financial gain. Can you believe that?’

‘Bloody ridiculous. The man’s
obviously a grandiloquent and an ignoramus.’

I let out a laugh at Arthur’s
choice of words, for he was never the one to miss an opportunity to add some
colourful language. ‘It’s ironic, all right, and to think I was always there to
protect Brigit from these thugs.’

‘These city cops arrive here at
Pedley and begin to think it’s their god-given right to humiliate and accuse us
town folk,’ griped the old man.

‘Despite these accusations, my
real concern in all this sordid matter is for Brigit’s safe return.’

‘Any news on her?’

‘Nothing. My gut feel tells me
she’s still in or near Pedley but in reality it’s only wishful thinking,’ I
replied. ‘To be truthful, Arthur, I don’t really know who to turn to or where
to start for that matter.’

‘Well, why not start with me,’ he
prompted.

‘I appreciate your concern, but I
think this case is a bit out of your league.’

‘Nonsense. My knowledge of the
area is far greater than most,’ insisted Arthur. ‘So why their interest in
Brigit?’

‘It all stems back to Jake
Reynolds witnessing a murder in the botanical gardens. The popular opinion is
that Jake met with foul play as a result of what he overheard and not so much
what he witnessed. It’s highly probable he was privy to some classified
information, possibly the location of the syndicate’s operations or storage
facility. While all this may be speculation, it’s reasonable to assume that
whatever Jake heard, the stakes were high enough to jeopardise their southern
operation. Realising their survival was dependant upon his elimination they
took immediate steps to carry out their evil deed. Jake was dead a short time
later.’

‘Yes, that’s all very well, but
where does Brigit fit into the scheme of things?’ Arthur was still waiting for
my answer.

I could sense my friend’s
impatience. ‘I’m coming to that, but it’s important to give you some background
first. Since it was common knowledge that Jake and Brigit were partners, it
prompted the syndicate into believing this classified information would’ve been
discussed between the two. Suspecting Brigit to be a major liability, the chase
began.’

‘Tom, I have two questions, each
contradicting the other, but please hear me out. Firstly, why wouldn’t this
organisation simply kill Brigit and save themselves the trouble of the chase
and eventual kidnapping?’

‘That’s a fair question, Arthur.
I can only assume her employment with the syndicate may have something to do
with it. I tell you this in strict confidence, so please don’t repeat anything.’

‘Her employment? Bloody hell, in
what capacity?’

‘As their street dealer, Brigit
targets the young community and therefore has some understanding of the
operations. Her knowledge may be limited, but this organisation is possibly
unsure as to what extent.’

‘Exactly, and this is where my
second point comes from. The syndicate had simply too much at stake by killing
her. It was mandatory for them to kidnap and interrogate to establish the
extent of her knowledge. Had she been murdered, the syndicate would have done
themselves a gross injustice by never knowing if any vital information was ever
exchanged. As a result they would continue to feel vulnerable, never knowing if
their cover was to be eventually blown by persons unknown. Alternatively,
someone with unscrupulous motives could see the opportunity for a potential
blackmail, wouldn’t you say?’

Arthur was now beginning to
detect that I was taking his advice with a bit more seriousness.

‘Yes, that all makes perfect
sense,’ I acknowledged.

‘What about yourself, Tom? Since
Brigit has come under scrutiny for being privy to classified information,
surely you must also come under consideration given the recent circumstances.’

‘Initially I did but that time
has passed.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Due to a visit by the syndicate
some nights back. Their intention was threatening, not murderous, which makes
me think Brigit has already been interrogated and been cleared of any
incriminating proof. Otherwise my fate that night would have been final.’

‘In my opinion Brigit is still in
the area,’ stated Arthur with a degree of confidence.

‘What on earth makes you say
that?’ I asked, taken back a little by this sudden announcement.

‘Well, think it through. Why would
she be taken to a distant location and interviewed by some affiliated
operation? My guess is, Brigit’s interrogation would have been carried out by
the local connection. In other words, the very people who arrange her deals. At
least these people have some intimate knowledge of her, as opposed to some city
person she’s never met. Therefore it would be reasonable to assume the local
organisation would conduct their interrogation in the local area.’

‘That seems logical.’

‘What else can you tell me, Tom?’

‘Sergeant Burke made reference to
some underground operation, but he wouldn’t elaborate with further details.
Said he couldn’t discuss these matters with the public.’

‘Was there any mention of its
possible location?’

‘Nothing, except to speculate it’s
probably somewhere in this region due to his mention of a drug storage facility
and distribution network. Apparently the syndicate’s southern operation has its
headquarters in or near Pedley, but as to where is anyone’s guess.’

‘I have an idea where it may be,’
declared the excited pensioner.

I stared at Arthur as if my ears
had deceived me. Had the old man finally lost his marbles? ‘What?’

‘They’re referred to as the
subterranean passageways,’ he stated in a triumphant manner.

‘Don’t play games with me,
Arthur.’

‘I’m deadly serious. And what’s
more, they’re directly beneath Pedley.’

‘If you’re referring to those
so-called tunnels, it’s nothing but a bloody myth. Arthur, you’ve lost the
plot.’

‘Would you please give me the
opportunity of defending my claim. Tom, I’m eighty-five years old and still
have all my faculties. What I wish to share with you is some reality and not a
myth about this lost world.’ Arthur seemed determined to challenge my
scepticism.

‘Very well, turn me into a
believer,’ I insisted, sensing my blunt remark had unsettled him.

‘First we need to go back to a
time in excess of two hundred years. These were convict days when large numbers
of prisoners were brought to the mainland to relieve the overcrowding of the
penal colonies. In doing so a major problem soon became evident and that was
where to house these hundreds of convicts. As a result, the governor at the
time was under immense pressure to resolve the matter. Society demanded the
convicts be somehow relocated out of sight to allow free folk the courtesy of
commuting without the presence of these unfortunate souls.

‘Reputed for his engineering
skills and in keeping with the demands of society, the governor decided to
excavate and create an underground network beneath Pedley. The project would be
constructed almost entirely by convict labour and take three years to complete.
From its inception the governor was ruthless in his demands, sparing no mercy
in his quest to build the ultimate penitentiary. Throughout the construction period
hundreds of convicts died as a result of long shifts with little food. Target
dates were crucial and inclement weather was never a deterrent.

‘Upon completion, the governor
had created his colossus. Inhumane by today’s standards, it was nonetheless an
extremely effective means for controlling the prisoners and keeping them at
bay. The governor had one remaining task and that was to have three buildings
erected above ground. Each served as an entrance to the subterranean passages
in addition to providing accommodation for the authorities, while the convicts
below served out their remaining years amidst the network of tunnels and
chambers.’

‘But how do you know all this?’

‘The story has been passed down
through five Simpson generations, all of whom have lived in the Pedley region
for nearly two hundred years. My great-grandfather, who apparently was a bit of
a rebel and an adventurer, had defied a warning upon discovering one of the
entrances and literally walked the entire length of one of these passages,’
said Arthur.

‘If what you’re saying is true,
then why haven’t the authorities located this network long before now?’

‘This is where the story takes a
twist. Some four or five years after the completion of the underground network,
a deadly typhoid epidemic broke out in the region. It was a catastrophe on a
major scale and in terms of human lives it wiped out nearly half the
population. So huge were the repercussions, the authorities needed to quickly
resolve the problem as to where the bodies should be buried, and you guessed
it, the subterranean passages became the chosen site. Mass burials in church
cemeteries were later exhumed and relocated within the tunnel network in fear
the disease would resurface and claim more lives. Such was the panic that no
thought or care was ever given to the plight of the convicts, for the many
hundreds of corpses were literally carried into these chambers and left to rot
amongst the prisoners. In the space of six months or so the underground network
had been turned into a massive subterranean cemetery.’