Scorpio's Lot (85 page)

‘Victor, look at the bigger
picture. Morgan and Ferret are no longer with us. Neville’s time is primarily
tied up with running Broadbent, and on top of all this, your directive now is
to reduce existing stock levels. I simply lack manpower to achieve your
requests!’ stated a defiant Piedpiper.

‘But you have Charlie, Mick and
Sol at your disposal,’ argued Marlow, who seemed reluctant to yield to his
southern leader’s pleas.

‘That may be so, but Charlie and
Mick in duel roles has limitations.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They’re basically drug dealers
and help out with some manual tasks. Beyond that, both would undoubtedly
struggle. Charlie and Mick are not your intellectual types, if that’s what you
had in mind,’ said the Piedpiper.

‘Oh, weren’t they in line when
intelligence was handed out?’ declared Marlow sarcastically.

Ignoring the swipe, the southern
head continued. ‘A further point to consider is the persistence of both the
police and media. Broadbent has been inundated with their presence and it
places enormous strain on Neville to keep up appearances.’

‘Very well. I’ll think the matter
over and let you know,’ said Marlow, finally relenting.

Realising the subject had run its
course and Victor would take a month of Sundays to make up his mind, the
Piedpiper decided on a different approach.

‘So what’s the prime purpose for
your visit, Victor?’

‘Threefold to be precise. As I’ve
already inferred, I accept your actions with respect to Morgan’s fate, but I
can’t help but think that it could’ve been handled in a less violent manner -’

The Piedpiper cut in. ‘Victor, we’ve
been through all this. Morgan left us no choice. It was a classic case of
self-defence and he came off second best through his own stupidity!’

‘We cannot afford to rest on our
laurels. Morgan in death could still be a threat to the organisation. He had
global contacts in very high places. If one of these sources gets a sniff of
foul play they may well send someone over here to investigate. My advice is to
keep a tight lid on this issue,’ Marlow instructed.

‘Very well,’ acknowledged the
Piedpiper.

‘Still on the subject of threats,
I have it on good authority that Indigo has his claws out in search of me.
Apparently the guy is set on revenge since he holds me responsible for the
ruination of Traffik.’

‘And rightly so! I’m surprised
Indigo doesn’t incorporate Pedley on his agenda,’ said the Piedpiper.

‘Yes, that had occurred to me.’
Marlow looked concerned. ‘I need to physically check your existing stock levels
and decide what needs to move or stay. We’ve got to reduce this stock, there’s
simply too much bloody money tied up down here.’

‘Yes, Victor, but it will be done
on my terms.’

‘What do you mean by that?’
queried the Keeper.

‘For starters, lack of resources
will reflect a slow process. Above all, the logistics will need to be carried
out cautiously and at nighttime to make the operation less conspicuous.’

‘I agree.’

‘How long do you plan to stay in
Pedley?’

‘Two or three days. I need time
to rest a bit and this underground network is probably the last true safe haven
I have,’ Victor replied.

‘I wonder for how much longer?’
questioned the Piedpiper.

~ * ~

The
mobile phone played the first chord of ‘Wild Thing’, sending a couple of the
constabulary into karaoke hopefuls.

‘Detective Senior Constable Marsh
speaking.’ Marsh grinned at his insane colleagues.

‘Paul, Danny Murdock here.’

‘Hello, Danny, how are you?’

‘I’m all right. I’ve got some
disturbin’ news though. It seems that I only phone ya when there’s somethin’
about to happen.’

‘Do you wish to meet at the
library again?’

‘No, Paul, too dangerous. We’ll
just talk over the phone.’

‘That’s fine. What’s on your
mind, Danny?’

‘I’ve heard the Keeper’s back in
town.’

‘That’s news to us. Where did you
hear this?’

‘On the street last night. One of
the guys claimed he was speaking to Charlie.’

‘I might’ve guessed. We can’t
seem to catch this one.’

‘Yeah, I know what ya mean. I
haven’t seen him since we last spoke.’

‘I wonder what the Keeper’s got
planned this time?’ Paul Marsh queried.

‘Dunno.’

‘Charlie’s not shy in coming
forward with idle gossip.’

‘But the problem doesn’t stop
there. Some dude called Indigo, who’s after the Keeper, may be plannin’ to come
to Pedley to settle a score. He’s from some syndicate called Havoc, I heard,’
declared Danny.

‘It’s actually Traffik, but it’s
all but defunct now. The Keeper and his group were responsible for spilling the
beans and Indigo’s seeking revenge.’

‘Shit, then it’ll get serious!’

‘Undoubtedly. For your own sake,
Danny, stay clear of drug pushers and deals over the next few days, okay?’

‘Yeah, sure Paul,’ Danny
responded unconvincingly.

‘Danny, I’m deadly serious if you
value your own life. Open gangland warfare is an ugly sight, so best to keep
your distance and lay low for a while.’

~ * ~

It
was seven pm when Marsh decided to call it quits. The long shift had brought a
day of mixed fortunes, the downside being Forbes’ constant bickering about
certain individuals and their impact on the case. Throughout the day he had
heard just about every possible grumble imaginable. It had commenced with Tom
Harrison’s suspicions, Bri-git’s inability to disclose the whereabouts of the
underground and the absence of ID regarding certain Scorpio members. By late
afternoon it had progressed to Ben Johnson and his band of thugs at the
Esplanade, the mystery surrounding the deceptive bank manager in Buchanan and
the ever-persistent paparazzi press. Paul Marsh had had enough. A visit was in
order to see how Piochsa was coping following Forbes’ interrogation.

Marsh found his Hungarian beauty
in full flight with criticism over the handling of her recent interrogation.

‘I feel like shit after what your
boss put me through,’ she told him. ‘I mean, his whole bloody performance was
way over the top. And it’s affected me deeply, Paul.’

‘In what way, Piochsa?’

‘For starters, difficulty
sleeping and concentrating. I’ve even become irritable and have this constant
tension headache.’

‘Yes, Forbes was out of place. I
had a word with him on the quiet and told him his interview implied guilt
without proof -’

‘Exactly!’ interrupted Piochsa. ‘There
I was blatantly accused of trafficking drugs without a shred of evidence. It
makes me so angry, and even that bleedin’ Doyle didn’t have the guts to say he
may’ve made a mistake!’

‘I can’t add any more, Piochsa,
since case proceedings are off limits to the public.’

Paul Marsh had never seen Piochsa
so wound up. Forbes’ innuendos had certainly left their mark. Marsh had read a
great deal in the field of psychological trauma and knew there was ongoing
debate as to whether individuals with post-traumatic conditions should be
treated with care or contempt. Was Piochsa genuinely suffering or were some of
her stories or accusations a figment of her imagination? Marsh realised his
observations were inconclusive for he had only observed Forbes’ final wrap-up
of the grueling interrogation. Still, he was adamant she was innocent of any
wrongdoing.

He also knew traumatic events to
be extraordinary situations, not because they are rare, but because they
overpower normal human behaviour. Unlike ordinary misfortunes, trauma usually
involves threats or perceived threats to life. Piochsa was encountering
feelings of helplessness and fear. Forbes had pushed the allegation with
maximum impact, causing Piochsa to be frightened of what the police would do
next.

Paul could see she had been
drinking, for an empty bottle of scotch sat conspicuously on a nearby ledge. Her
occasional slurred word implied she had been partaking just prior to his
arrival. Paul immediately recognised that Piochsa was developing dependence on
alcohol in her failed attempt to dissociate from Forbes’ venom. Equally
alarming was his knowledge that a traumatic state placed enormous stress on a
relationship. This event had shattered Piochsa, who quite possibly had never
even received a parking ticket up to now. No doubt her state of mind was a
combination of disbelief, confusion, fear and bewilderment.

Marsh concluded that his support
was necessary. He would restore the self-belief that Forbes had so cruelly
eroded. Hard evidence was not something the pompous detective possessed.

~ * ~

St
Patrick’s had brought a good-sized gathering to celebrate the life of Travis
Ferguson, more commonly known as Ferret to his peers. At eleven am Father Byrne
emerged to conduct the service to a hushed congregation. Forbes, seated in a
rear pew, watched the priest climb the steps to an elevated pulpit. The man of
cloth commenced the proceedings.

‘I am the resurrection and the
life, saith the Lord. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall
he live and whosoever liveth and beliveth in me shall never die and I know that
my Redeemer liveth…’

Two young women began crying, one
almost wailing in uncontrollable emotion. Attention was momentarily drawn to
their dilemma. The psalm ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’, followed and lessons were
read aloud telling of God’s care and the hope of eternal life. The priest
continued.

‘We Christians celebrate the
funeral rites to offer worship, praise and thanksgiving to God for the gift of
life which has now been returned to God, the author of life and the hope of the
just. The mass, the memorial of Christ’s death and resurrection, is the
principal celebration of the Christian funeral. When a loved one dies, those
who are left behind are filled with conflicting emotions of sorrow and grief,
in addition to the Christian joy and thankfulness that the suffering is now
over and the everlasting life in heaven has just begun. The Christian funeral
rites over a beautiful profound journey through grief and loss, to the joy of
anticipation of the resurrection of the dead.’

Forbes deliberately sat to the
back of the church in order to observe those giving their last respects. The
unknowns far outweighed the familiar faces. He contemplated that some of these
people would most likely have unscrupulous habits given Ferret’s desired
lifestyle. He decided at that moment to have Marsh accompany him to the
cemetery following the service. This crowd warranted a closer look as a result
of Ferret’s drug connections. Would Charlie be in attendance? For that matter,
he couldn’t discount the Piedpiper, or even the Keeper who was reputedly in
town. His concentration finally returned to the formalities.

The priest offered some
reassuring and comforting words, informing the congregation that Travis Daniel
Ferguson was at peace and with his maker. A younger brother of Ferret stepped
forth to deliver the first of four Scripture readings. The first reading from
the New Testament was attempted with nervousness and emotional grief. Forbes couldn’t
help but feel sadness toward the young lad for enduring the realisation of his
brother’s shocking death. Further people came forward to complete the
scriptures, including Hassan, who, despite his different religious beliefs,
delivered the fourth reading with incredible passion and an unashamed flow of
tears.