Scorpio's Lot (104 page)

The use of heavy machinery from
above would take considerably less time and Sol could immediately recognise
their southern operation had suddenly become very vulnerable. Heat still generated
from the debris, so any thought by the police to start excavating would have to
be postponed for a while.

Smoke continued to fill the area.
Breathing had become extremely difficult, despite the use of handkerchiefs held
firmly against their faces. It was time to retreat and inform the Piedpiper of
the destruction. From a respectable distance Sol reached for a mobile and
dialed his superior’s number. Their discussion was intense, with orders to
remain underground until further notice. The aftermath of the Broadbent
explosion was still unclear in terms of fatalities. The Piedpiper, fearing the
worst, announced they should prepare for the likelihood that Neville and his
men may have perished. To believe otherwise would conjure up a false sense and
acceptance of the situation.

It was mutually agreed the
authorities would be subjected to at least a forty-eight hour delay before
access could be made. With the good fortune of having the drugs stored in an
unaffected area, the regional head gave Sol orders to accumulate and relocate
as much stock as possible over the next two days.

The conversation then predictably
turned to accusation. Indigo and his lackeys would claim responsibility and
their work might still not be finished. The Piedpiper contemplated how best to
strike back. Scorpio’s numbers were depleted and therefore a full-scale attack
would require additional manpower, presumably by way of city HQ. A phone call
was therefore necessary to persuade Marcus Powell to send backup and quickly.
For the moment the southern operation would need to ride this apparent
liability and the unforeseen vulnerability the Broadbent Warehouse bombing had
just created.

~ * ~

n
hour after the bombing, most of the bystanders had left, leaving the fire
brigade and police to attend their responsibilities. The paramedics had long
since departed but unfortunately, from Forbes’ perspective, they were now
compensated by the increasing number of journalists. Pestering the constabulary
and the occasional onlooker to complete their intended story, their persistence
irritated Forbes no end. Having no intention of cooperating with these
reporters, the detective instead walked onto Broadbent’s site to observe the
destruction in more detail. Well aware the media fraternity was banned from
entering beyond the police line, he could at least find some solitude and not
be disturbed by their endless curiosity.

On reaching the central area of
this once-thriving warehouse, he stood looking around at the horrendous
aftermath that lay to all four sides. Piles of jumbled debris stretched the
length of the site and isolated smoldering caused from exposed electrical
cabling appeared to be no longer a threat. What a waste of human life, he
thought. And these buildings had once provided employment and supported the
Pedley economy.

Casting a vigilant eye on the
thick rubble, he had hoped an opening to the underground network may have been
revealed. Forbes was anxious to recommence his search, but common sense told
him the clearance of debris would undoubtedly take a minimum of one or two days
to achieve. To stumble across a subterranean passageway amidst these piles of
building refuse was near impossible. Patience was never one of the detective’s
stronger attributes, but in this situation he had no choice but to wait.

Forbes continued his surveillance
of the area in the company of John Doyle. Prodding away and removing the odd
piece of refuse that lay about became a useless exercise, for it only uncovered
the vast amount of bricks and mortar that lay beneath. Annoyed and frustrated
at the sheer volume of debris, Forbes stood with hands on hips and conceded
that the elusive underground would have to be unveiled another day. Then in
realising his subordinate had already searched Broadbent’s premises on two
previous occasions, Forbes turned to ask a fairly fundamental question.

‘John, when you entered these
premises with the search warrant, did anything at the time strike you as being
unusual?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Something out of place, like a wall
which had fresh paint, or part of a floor that didn’t quite match its
surrounds.’

‘No, not off-hand,’ replied
Doyle.

‘Then maybe a comment you made
based on some observation?’ Forbes pressed.

‘Not really.’

‘There has to be something.
Chances are a cleverly concealed entrance is to be found in the most unlikely
of places. I wouldn’t even rule out the most blatant location, providing it
fooled the observer from recognising the obvious. A bit like hiding a diamond
in a chandelier, you could say Think!’ persisted Forbes.

Doyle mentally retraced the steps
he had taken on that uneventful day. He remembered that nothing had appeared
out of place with the main warehouse and the mezzanine area. He recalled the
manager being a methodical and orderly individual who projected a place of
impeccable tidiness and functionality. As for the kitchen, games room and
courtyard, they seemed equally well organised. Not one aspect had prompted
further investigation, but he couldn’t vouch for the two cellars, having given
that duty to Carpenter. Doyle then remembered the toilet block they had
examined at the tail end of their search warrant.

‘Well... there was something I
did pick up on.’

‘Yes, what is it?’ asked Forbes
impatiently.

‘The toilet bowl in one of the
cubicles

‘Toilet bowl!’ roared Forbes with
his irritating interruption.

‘The bowl was on a noticeable
lean and I suggested to Bradbury that he have a plumber see to it before a
major problem occurred,’ said Doyle.

‘On a lean, you say?’

‘If there was something out of
place, as you put it earlier, then I can only conclude this would have to be
it. I mean anyone of substantial weight would have broken the bowl at that
angle. It did seem odd at the time and that cubicle should’ve been barricaded.
I can’t think of anything else.’

‘A bloody toilet bowl! Blatantly
obvious and yet subtle enough to deceive everybody!’ Forbes bellowed. ‘Think it
through, man. My guess would be a passageway beneath the toilet block. The bowl
probably acted as some opening mechanism.’

‘But that cubicle was
operational,’ declared Doyle a little defensively.

‘And all the more reason to
divert suspicion.’

‘Um ... if you’re right, then
what clever bastards.’

‘Now show me where this toilet
block once stood,’ insisted Forbes impatiently.

Carefully assessing the site,
Doyle led his superior to where the internal structure once stood. Not
surprisingly, the immediate area provided the largest amount of debris on the
block, as a result of the adjoining kitchen and toilet block collapsing into one
pile. Forbes groaned on seeing the sheer accumulation of rubble that was as
high as three metres in places. The removal of this rubbish would have to be
carried out with machinery, but he did at least know where to commence.

Forbes knew his prognosis was
only a hunch after all, but the mere thought of such a clever ploy led him to
believe he had hit the jackpot. This area would now become a clearance priority
with orders to provide access within twenty-four hours.

~ * ~

On
learning of the feared news, the Piedpiper’s reaction to the disaster was one
of shock and heartfelt sorrow for the victims. In particular, Neville Bradbury
was a sad loss, both personally and from the syndicate’s point of view. The
regional boss was basically a person of placid means, acutely intelligent with
a shrewd business head when it came to drugs and distribution, but violence had
never been a criterion for success. The magnitude of retaliation demonstrated
by Traffik was almost beyond belief. Two people, who were no longer accountable,
had fueled this situation with their arrogance and blinding stupidity. Yes,
Victor Marlow and Brad Morgan had a lot to answer for, thought the Piedpiper.

The circumstances now begged for
a major decision to be made. With the destruction of Broadbent’s came the
reality that the underground network was suddenly and extremely vulnerable. The
camouflage had been removed and it would be only a matter of time before the
police uncovered the entrance below the toilet block.

How long this charade could be
maintained was anybody’s guess. The Piedpiper was acutely aware that once the
Broadbent site was cleared of debris, the location to the entrance would be
swift. Perhaps only days remained before the inevitable.

The mind of the Piedpiper was in
express mode. The underground via Broadbent was a closely guarded secret, known
only to the select few within Scorpio. It was common knowledge that the local
fraternity scoffed at the idea of a subterranean passageway beneath their
township, so targeting Broadbent could only mean one thing - the oath of
secrecy had been leaked. Convinced a traitor was in their midst, the options
nonetheless were limited.

The regional head contemplated
the possibilities. Sol could immediately be ruled out, given his unquestionable
loyalty and devotion throughout the years. Charlie was a rough nut and thrived
on violence, but he too had demonstrated a total commitment to the cause. Mick,
his lackey, had served the syndicate for a long time, but always in a minor
capacity and was not privy to the inner sanctum. Excluding the occasional loan
of one of Marlow’s bodyguards and Charlie’s young brigade of street dealers,
only two further possibilities remained. Perhaps Brigit O’Neill sought revenge
for her recent kidnapping. But this seemed ludicrous, given her limited
knowledge of Scorpio and the mere fact that sabotage did not sit well with her
character. The one remaining person was the newcomer Gino Palmero. Not a great
deal was known about this individual, but suspicion could not be pointed at
Gino on mere instinct alone. An immediate phone call to Marcus Powell would
clear up any doubts. Additionally, the matter concerning backup would need to
be discussed.

‘Marcus, grave news I’m afraid.’

‘Yes, I’ve heard. The media’s
gone berserk with the coverage. We’re sad to hear about the loss of Neville and
his crew. They were all good men,’ acknowledged Powell.

‘As hard as it is I have to put
feelings to one side, for we have three massive issues to deal with.’

‘Three?’

‘Yes, the first being the
destruction of Broadbent Warehouse and the high probability of the passageway
being discovered in the very near future,’ declared the Piedpiper.

‘How long do you have?’

‘The clearance of debris will
take time, so possibly within the next few days would be my guess, Marcus.’

‘You’re left with no choice but
to clear the premises,’ ordered Powell.

‘That’s to be expected, but two
issues then arise.’

‘Oh?’

‘How much stock to relocate and
what to do with our resident captive Arthur Simpson.’