Scorpio's Lot (5 page)

‘A good morning for a walk, Kurt,’
I started, to encourage a response.

‘Cut the crap. All this murder
business has turned the place into a sideshow. Bloody hell, there are more cops
and spectators than residents!’

‘But that’s to be expected. You’d
better brace yourself for more police because I’ve heard there are two
detectives about to arrive from the city.’

‘Just have them keep their
distance!’ added Kurt aggressively and with that he continued on his way.

Around fifty minutes of routine
tasks went by, with my mind reliving the past twenty-four hours rather than
concentrating on the jobs at hand. This constant torment was playing havoc with
my thoughts. Why was Jake Reynolds murdered? Was he the intended victim? What
was the motive? Would the city detectives take long to arrest the guilty party?
Had Brigit’s condition improved? It had become a circle of questions that
yielded no answers.

I had decided to return to the
office and have lunch with Emily when from around the corner appeared Ruth
Evans, the resident busybody, who would undoubtedly start bombarding me with
her usual umpteen-dozen questions. I had to grin and bear it. There was no
escaping her for she had already cornered me for the onslaught.

‘Oh, Tom, wasn’t it tragic what
happened to young Jake Reynolds? And poor Brigit, how is she coping? I’m afraid
all this nasty business has got the better of me.’

‘Yes, a sad time for all, Ruth. I’m
told Brigit’s condition is serious but stable.’ I knew Ruth was the type of
woman to thrive in such circumstances. I could only tolerate her in small doses
for her conversation was generally directed at the unpleasant side of life. Now
approaching her sixtieth year, she had a sharp eye and went to extraordinary
lengths to know everybody’s business.

‘I guess the police will be
questioning all the residents,’ she probed.

‘Probably, but I’m sure you’ll be
ready for them. I must go now and not hold up Emily for lunch,’ I responded,
thankful for this excuse as a means to depart.

~ * ~

In
the company of his immediate superior, Senior Sergeant Ross Whittaker, Darren
Burke had just hung up after talking to Helen O’Neill when two city detectives
walked into his office to be briefed on the Jake Reynolds case. He gave them a
carefully detailed summary.

‘So there you have it,’ he said. ‘Not
a great deal of information at this stage.’

Detective Sergeant Alan Forbes, a
plumpish and pale man of around fifty years with an intimidating presence and
steely eyes, was the first to respond. He had been appointed to head this
investigation based upon his uncanny ability to catch his man. His reputation
for solving difficult cases was unsurpassed.

‘On the contrary,’ he said, ‘there
are a number of leads to investigate. For instance, who associated with Jake
Reynolds and, for that matter, Brigit O’Neill? We need to determine if the
young Reynolds lad was the intended victim. And why did he choose this route
when danger signs along the cliff should have acted as a deterrent? We also
need to unravel the motive, means and opportunity. By investigating the
associates of these young people, we may discover the reason behind such an
act.’

Forbes continued. ‘Motive, your
key ingredient, can derive from a multitude of reasons. With this in mind don’t
overlook the problem that Pedley’s concealed for years - its drug trade. Based
on known facts, together with the forensics report submitted this morning, I
tend to agree with your judgment, sergeant. It has all the hallmarks of drug
underworld repercussions as a result of young Jake Reynolds witnessing a
gangland murder. What intrigues me is what the lad may’ve overheard. You mentioned
underground networks and the distribution of drugs in your summary, but because
you couldn’t elaborate in more detail that secret will now be taken to the
grave.’

Before Burke could acknowledge
these comments, Detective Senior Constable Paul Marsh intervened. Unlike his
counterpart, this thirty-something detective was a ball of fitness. Burke
guessed that he worked out at the gym, and judging by his pug nose he’d
probably gone a round or two in the boxing ring.

‘Initially we’ll interview
residents who live in close proximity to the crime scene,’ Marsh said. ‘This
will include the three properties adjacent to the cliff and the operators and
tenants of Harrison’s Caravan Park. It would seem a visit to Brigit O’Neill may
have to wait until her condition improves, but we can at least approach the two
respective parents for comment.’

‘I was on the phone to Brigit’s
mother when you arrived. She should be at the hospital by now,’ Burke
volunteered.

‘No rush, we can visit both
parents tomorrow, and besides, Mrs O’Neill will need some time with her
daughter before we start questioning her,’ added Forbes.

‘You have our full support on the
case. Anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask,’ offered the obliging
Whittaker.

Burke could sense an air of
contention about Forbes. He had a bombastic nature and a contemptuous style,
which didn’t sit well. These city dicks, he thought. They invade our territory
and expect us country bumpkins to patronise their every whim. He could foresee
a degree of conflict unfolding. First impressions generally sit true. It was
only a matter of time.

~ * ~

Predictably,
the lunch conversation with Emily centered on yesterday’s drama. It was as if
no other topic existed and I could sense it was cutting deep with my wife.

‘Do you think this tragedy will
affect business?’ she asked.

‘Hard to say, Em. It may in the
short term, at least until the police make their arrest, and I expect the
newspapers will have a field day over this, so I guess the bad publicity will
hurt for a while.’

‘Have you heard if Brigit’s
improved?’

‘Much the same, I’m told.
Apparently she’s still serious, but at least in a stable condition. I heard
Helen’s returning today from an interstate trip to see her.’

‘Tom, I can’t help but think that
all this police presence will scare off our tenants,’ said Emily, still
persistent about the business aspect.

‘Well, you better brace yourself
for further social calls, my dear, because we’ll be inundated once the city
detectives arrive,’ I replied in a slightly sarcastic tone.

I could see Emily was becoming
depressed with all this negative talk, so I decided to use a different
approach.

‘Em, after a lot of thinking I’ve
decided to do a bit of investigating, but I’ll wait until the detectives
downscale their visits. My knowledge of Pedley and its residents would be
greater than that of the city police, and besides, I feel as if I owe Brigit
something.’

‘Are you out of your mind?’

‘I’m aware of the danger, but
after all, discretion is the better part of valour, as they say,’ I responded
with a hint of aggravation.

‘Stop being stupid, Tom. This is
a serious matter! I for one don’t need you involved in all of this.’

I ignored her comment, having
already decided to commence my enquiries. The police, in my opinion, would take
a month of Sundays to resolve this matter.

~ * ~

The
two detectives, Forbes and Marsh, arrived at the front doorstep of Simon
Walters, who had been the local pharmacist for some years and was a highly
respected citizen within the community. He was a bachelor in his forty-second
year and an acquaintance of Tom Harrison and Darren Burke through Rotary. He
had a somewhat sombre and serious personality, but possessed a sharp wit when
called upon. He was clever by nature and had influence in Pedley. A tall man of
medium build, wearing bifocal spectacles, opened the front door.

‘Yes, can I help you?’

After introductions and the
customary display of badges, Forbes said, ‘Mr Walters, can we have a few
moments of your time? It’s regarding the death of Jake Reynolds yesterday,
which we are now treating as a murder investigation. We’re focusing our initial
enquiries on residents who live in close proximity to the crime scene, which
includes your two neighbours and the tenants of Harrison’s Caravan Park.’

‘Yes, I heard about the tragedy
at work yesterday, but how can I assist with your investigation?’ questioned
Walters.

‘Were you home yesterday morning
around seven twenty-five?’

‘No, I left home at seven because
of work commitments. The pharmacy needs to be open by seven-thirty for my
staff. There are routine functions to be carried out before the public are
allowed entry at nine o’clock.’

‘Can you gain access to the cliff
from your property?’

‘Certainly, as can my two
neighbours. We all have a small gate along the rear boundary fence. I use mine
to take a walk along the coast, but I never walk on the cliff side.’

‘Mr Walters, can you recall your
whereabouts on Friday night and into the early hours of Saturday?’ asked Marsh.

‘Yes, I closed the pharmacy just
after nine due to late-night trading, tidied up a bit and was home by
nine-thirty. I watched television to around midnight and then went to bed.’

‘Can anyone vouch for that?’

‘Not after nine-thirty.’

Forbes concluded the interview. ‘Thank
you for your cooperation. Please phone me on this number if there’s anything
else.’

The detective passed his card and
they both departed.

After a brief walk next door,
they were confronted by a German shepherd, barking so profusely it forced its
owner to come running out of the house to control the situation.

‘Sit, Max!’ shouted a large buxom
woman wearing jodhpurs and riding boots.

‘Mrs Sharon Scanlan, I presume?’
called Forbes.

‘Yes,’ she replied, trying to
keep the dog at bay.

‘My name is Detective Sergeant
Alan Forbes and this is my colleague Detective Senior Constable Paul Marsh. We’re
here on police business and just need a short moment of your time. Mrs Scanlan,
would your husband be home?’

‘No, Kevin’s out,’ she answered. ‘Look,
what’s this all about?’

‘Are you aware of the death of
Jake Reynolds and the circumstances surrounding this unfortunate incident?’

‘Yes, I was talking to my
neighbour Martha Kellett yesterday afternoon,’ said Sharon. ‘It appears there
are suspicious grounds and foul play was mentioned. I’m told there’s also a
young lady involved who survived the fall. How’s she doing?’

‘Brigit O’Neill is in a serious
but stable condition, and yes, this case is now being treated as a murder
investigation.’

‘Not good. And to think a murder’s
been committed in our own backyard, so to speak. Makes one shudder,’ Sharon
added.

‘Mrs Scanlan, we need to know
what your movements were on Friday night and into the early hours of Saturday
morning, including those of your husband,’ said Marsh, changing the line of
questioning.

‘Detective, are you implying that
we’re under suspicion?’

‘No, of course not, it’s simply
routine,’ Marsh responded, backing off somewhat. ‘We just need to establish the
whereabouts of people leading up to the incident.’

‘I stayed at my daughter’s place
here in Pedley on Friday night and returned home around eleven Saturday
morning. As for Kevin, he drove off in his four-wheel-drive at six to go bush
and do some shooting over the weekend.’

‘Shooting?’

‘Yes, Kevin and his mates go
game-shooting every second month down Middleton way, which is around an hour’s
drive from Pedley.’