Authors: Ray Smithies
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Drug Traffic, #made by MadMaxAU
‘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.’