Scorpio's Lot (119 page)

This was madness at its highest
level. The Scorpio pair had repeatedly told Indigo their leader was at large
and not amongst the seven. What else could they do? I was beginning to wonder
which was the lesser of the two evils, Scorpio or Traffik?

Suddenly Forbes stood up and
declared in a loud voice, ‘Stop this! There’s a better way to resolve the
matter.’

‘Oh, there is? Then tell me how,’
said Indigo.

‘We have one thing in common and
that is our desire to correctly identify the Piedpiper, even if for very
different reasons,’ stated Forbes.

‘Agreed.’

‘Then have Arthur Simpson brought
to the gallery.’

‘Who in the hell is Arthur
Simpson?’

‘We believe he’s being held
prisoner in the underground and may know the identity of the Piedpiper. If
Arthur can assist, then we’ll at least have an independent and unbiased answer,’
Forbes claimed.

‘Good, we at least agree on
something.’ Indigo then turned to the one called Luke. ‘You! Stand up and fetch
Arthur Simpson immediately. Ivan will accompany you, so don’t get any wrong
ideas.’

Luke reluctantly climbed to his
feet, feeling the pain Indigo had just inflicted. He walked in the direction of
a row of chambers and then turned right to exit the gallery. With his gun
poised, Ivan followed some four paces behind. Forbes concluded that their
departure implied that Arthur was here after all. It had been a hunch, but one
that had some merit given his sudden disappearance and reputable knowledge of
the underground’s past. The gamble had paid off and now the outcome rested
squarely with the pensioner. Forbes’ only apprehension would be that of Traffik’s
reaction if Arthur were unable to carry out a positive identification.

Within five minutes Arthur
Simpson’s emergence still came as a surprise to everyone. The man looked
decisively drained and haggard, and he wore a sullen face as if carrying the
weight of the world on his shoulders. The poor bugger reflected a picture of
loneliness and despair. How could any sane person allow this deterioration to
happen?

On reaching the centre of the
gallery, Arthur suddenly recognised me and immediately broke out in a smile at
seeing a familiar face. I returned the compliment and felt a little emotional
at seeing my friend reduced to this level. He appeared puzzled as to why so
many people had congregated in this one area, and in particular, the sighting
of two deceased bodies.

‘What’s going on here?’ Arthur
said.

It was the Traffik leader’s cue
to take control.

‘We need your help to solve a
problem, old man. Look at these seven people standing in a line and tell me if
the Piedpiper is amongst them. Take your time and study each person carefully,
then give me your answer.’ An excited Indigo sensed that the culprit’s identity
was about to be revealed.

Arthur stepped forward and commenced
his perusal from left to right. On completing his short walk he returned to the
middle. His examination was finished far quicker than what Indigo had
anticipated. Anxious to learn the result, he rushed Arthur into declaring the
outcome.

‘Well, what’s the answer?’ he
asked impatiently.

‘The Piedpiper is not amongst
these people.’

‘Are you sure? Take another look!’
he insisted.

‘Absolutely certain,’ responded
Arthur.

‘Then look at this man over here,’
ordered Indigo, lifting the cover to expose the remains of Smyth’s disfigured
face.

‘Again, no,’ declared Arthur, who
grimaced at the grotesque sight.

‘And to think Richard Smyth’s
life could have been spared,’ declared Forbes, unable to hold back his disgust.

‘Shut up, detective!’ Indigo
yelled back and then asked the million-dollar question. ‘Then who in the hell
is the Piedpiper?’

‘Lou Hanna, to be precise,’
Arthur said.

‘Who?’ questioned a dumbfounded
Indigo.

‘He was one of the original drug
trafficking pioneers to this region, long before Scorpio came on the scene.
Back in those days Lou Hanna had set up a flourishing business and
unfortunately tempted the youth of Pedley into his sleazy world. As time passed
the authorities eventually caught up with him and he was sentenced to jail for
a number of years,’ explained Arthur.

‘How do you know this?’ asked
Indigo.

‘Two things, actually. One is my
vague recollection of the incident and the other came from an article I read on
the internet at Perkins Press in the city.’

‘Go on.’

‘If my facts are right, Lou
eventually returned to Pedley after an absence of fifteen to twenty years. I
daresay his appearance has dramatically changed since those days, but there’s a
good chance I may still be able to recognise him.’

‘But I’ve never heard of him.’

‘Naturally. The man’s not an
idiot. He’s returned under an assumed name,’ declared Arthur.

‘Which is?’

‘Well, that’s where it gets a bit
tricky because I’ve only seen glimpses of the man since his return and I’m not
yet totally convinced they are one and the same person. I need to see him up
close to be absolutely sure. I have my suspicions, but I’d prefer to wait to
make a positive ID. I certainty don’t want the wrong person accused.’

Indigo paused to contemplate on
Arthur’s admission. He had to accept his instinct was wrong on this occasion.
The old man’s answer had surprised him, but he had one trump card left up his
sleeve and that was the person being hunted down by his two accomplices. Could
this possibly be the elusive Lou Hanna after all? He couldn’t discount the
Scorpio pair declaring this individual as their regional head. He informed
Arthur Simpson of his one remaining task. Indigo now waited in the hope that
Martin and Dave wouldn’t let him down.

~ * ~

he
hunted man had a distinct advantage over his Traffik opponents: an intimate
knowledge of the subterranean system. His one major handicap, however, was the
inability to move freely. The bullet imbedded in the right leg had slowed his
pace considerably, to the point where any assumed supremacy had now been
forfeited. The ledger had been squared, so to speak, whereby any previous
advantage had now been nullified. Luck and some cunning intuition would now
play a key role in the eventual outcome.

He had a minute’s start to find a
suitable refuge. Choosing to remain on the same level could prove to be a
clever ploy, given his adversary might think distance was the preferred option.
What he hadn’t foreseen was the telltale sign of his injury. A trickling blood
trail had become distinctly evident on the bluestone passageways. Some three
corridors into the subterranean maze, the subdued camphene light reflected the
evidence. Now conscious of his predicament, it was imperative he stop the flow
of blood. The Scorpio compatriot couldn’t disrobe and tie his jumper around the
injury because he didn’t have the time. For the moment he would have to grin
and bear the consequences. He hoped and prayed his blood trail would go
undetected.

The Scorpio assassin selected a
side passageway recess isolated from the main arterials, believing his foe
would concentrate on the broader and more prominent pathways. Crouched behind a
rather unassuming statue, he waited to assess the pursuer’s whereabouts. He
would attempt to seek a more suitable refuge and attend to his injury when time
permitted.

~ * ~

Martin
and Dave knew where the bullet had been fired from. They also knew with a fair
degree of accuracy into which corridor the man had retreated. The challenge
that lay ahead wasn’t so much direction, but rather the distance the Piedpiper
had penetrated the passageways. Martin, in particular, was no fool for he
realised his enemy maintained an advantage in knowing his surrounds. He also
knew his adversary was carrying a major injury that would slow his escape. This
had now become a game of wits in figuring how the mind of the hunted would
function. He anticipated the man to be close by and was probably relying on his
pursuers to search vast distances.

The immediate passageways were
lit by camphene burners erected at twenty-metre intervals on the bluestone
walls. Their tapered wick tubes encased in whale oil illuminated an adequate
light source. The two decided to communicate in sign language, in preference to
the loud and crude approach that would only serve to accentuate their position.
They concentrated their search within a radius of one hundred metres, initially
assessing the main thoroughfares.

With the unlikelihood of hiding
amidst the camouflage of the more obvious retreats, the Traffik thugs commenced
their surveillance of the intersecting passageways. These smaller corridors
were less conspicuous, suggesting a more appropriate area to hide oneself. A
cautious approach had become increasingly necessary, for the assassin
presumably still carried a gun and would have the element of surprise.

Starting with what they perceived
to be the outer perimeter of their search, the two gradually drew closer to the
gallery as they pursued each darker and more secluded side path. Statues
adorned many of the recessed chambers, all of which were progressively
subjected to a thorough inspection. No stone left unturned was Martin’s motto,
for these sculptures appeared the only means for secretion. The Traffik pair
continued through the first two major thoroughfares and failed to disclose the
assassin.

~ * ~

The
hunted man had become desperate, since distance could not be a considered
option. Lump it or like it, he had to make do with his immediate surrounds. The
troublesome leg had seen to that. With blood continuing to pour freely from the
wound and his heart pumping at an alarming rate, his condition would soon begin
to deteriorate.

Sensing his foes were at least
two corridors away, he had no alternative but to tie his jumper arms firmly
over the leg wound to minimise the blood flow. To become light-headed and
delirious would be an equally arduous plight. It was important to find a
suitable refuge, rest and attend to his injury more thoroughly.

His first objective was to reach
the compressor and turn the unit back on. He hoped the distraction of the machinery
noise would provide his one last means of escape. Positioned two corridors
across, the task at hand was at least feasible. He estimated the distance would
take around two minutes. With the jumper firmly in place, he hobbled toward the
compressor room.

~ * ~

The
Traffik pair had been surveying some fifty metres into their third side
passageway when they detected a trail of blood. Although not overly surprised
with their discovery, it did, however, issue a warning to be doubly alert and
indicated the man was in close proximity. Again Martin stressed the importance
of sign language to eliminate any undue indecision and unnecessary noise. They
hoped their quiet approach would unnerve the Piedpiper into declaring his
whereabouts.