Scorpio's Lot (132 page)

‘How come the Kellett woman
seemed to anticipate our next move?’ Parnell queried. ‘I mean it invariably
happened a few times.’

‘That’s an exaggeration, it was
only isolated. I recall talking to Emily Harrison in the presence of Martha
when discussing a police unit being sent to Peterswood. There may have been one
other incident. But don’t discount the fact that Tom Harrison was unknowingly -’

Marsh cut in on hearing the
caravan proprietor’s name. ‘What I can’t fathom out is, if Harrison was
supposedly a threat to the syndicate, then why didn’t the Piedpiper take
measures to have him eliminated?’

‘I was about to elaborate on that
before you interrupted me,’ Forbes said. ‘To answer your question, detective, I
would say it was a case of weighing up the options and choosing the most
appropriate tactic. You’ve overlooked the fact that Emily took Kellett into her
confidence during Tom’s absence and unknowingly was feeding the Piedpiper with
a constant update on the crisis. This knowledge assisted Scorpio in keeping a
step ahead of the force. Why eliminate Harrison, when a reliable source in
Emily provided the syndicate with the necessary advantage. Perhaps now you may
understand how the Kellett woman come to anticipate our next move.’

‘I guess so, but Martha’s life
must have been spent constantly looking over her shoulder, when you consider
having both the law and rival syndicates to contend with.’

‘I would say only in her latter
years. She obviously had the structural makeup and temperament to deal with a
multitude of decisions and crisis. I don’t believe the pressures from the drug
fraternity intimidated Martha Kellett, who quite possibly thrived on the very
challenges they could muster up. Greed would always be the great motivator. In
her mind the authorities never presented a serious threat, until the Broadbent
bombing exposed their operation. Believing to have superior intelligence to
anything the constabulary could summons, a level of arrogance presided within
this regional operation, which in my opinion contributed to their down fall.

‘Martha Kellett was one shrewd
and very clever operator, having turned a backyard venture into a multi-million
dollar enterprise. Her subordinates were handpicked to deal with the logistics
and daily operations. Ironically, if it hadn’t been for the inclusion of the
psychopath, Brad Morgan, their organisation may well be still intact today.’

‘I would be interested in hearing
your personal views on the woman and what makes a person of this calibre turn
to crime?’ said Marsh.

‘Martha’s profile, her
psychological traits and illegalities would fulfill a conference room for an
entire day on the subject of criminology. She is indeed one unique subject to
be analysed by those in the fraternity. But what separates the Kellett woman
from your normal run of the mill rogue? A clever, deceptive and ruthless person
is portrayed as a kindly, pleasant and good-natured individual. Her world has
two distinct images, one good the other evil. So why tolerate the both? Why not
dispense with the Good Samaritan act and concentrate on where her real
intentions lie? No, this is not Martha’s makeup. She has a yearning to be
liked, which understandably derives from her so-called good image. She thrives
on and enjoys the transition and rewards the two extremes will ultimately
bring. Hers is not to question, but rather, to accrue the accolades and
incentives that come with both roles.’

‘Martha was certainly an old pro
at the game,’ said Whittaker.

‘Indeed she was. On one side of
the pendulum she has amassed the praise and recognition that comes with her
voluntary charity and educational work. She is highly respected by society and
is a role model within the community. Martha is in awe of her own esteem. She
is liked and accepted by all who come in contact. She has therefore reached the
pinnacle on her good side. I daresay her dark side conjures up an equally
important array of goals. Greed for one has motivated the woman into seeking a
greater wealth. But also consider the challenges and satisfaction in building a
regional empire that has surpassed the majority of similar invested operations
throughout the country. Not only has she become an extremely wealthy woman, but
she is highly regarded by Scorpio and competitors alike. Her peers, the drug
underworld, would gladly accept her services with massive incentives. However,
my guess would be Martha had rejected all these offers, not so much with
Scorpio in mind, but rather, her genuine love for Pedley, her lifestyle, Lou
Hanna’s return and so on. Her loyalty was with the district and not so much
with city headquarters. Needless to say she remained faithful to Victor Marlow
until the end. At sixty-three she had succeeded, if not surpassed all her
aspirations on the dark side. Martha would now be content to let go the reins
so to speak and spend the remainder of her retirement years with Lou Hanna by
her side.’

‘It’s a wonder the woman didn’t
retire from these activities some years earlier,’ stated Marsh.

‘Martha was in control of her own
destiny and her retirement would be based upon her rules and conditions only.
She was indeed one smart cookie. Unfortunately from her perspective, Brad
Morgan, and to a lesser extent Victor Marlow, played havoc with those plans.
Ultimately it was the constabulary who drove the final nail. It nevertheless
begs the question of why the woman, who already possessed the luxuries in life,
would seek a greater wealth. Besides Lou Hanna, she had no direct beneficiary,
so why the unnecessary riches? My guess is Martha had an extraordinary
determination to succeed in both her chosen roles. The spoils along the way
were simply accumulated bonuses or trophies in her obscure world. She had
already triumphed and possibly had nothing further to prove.’

Parnell said. ‘At sixty-three who
would’ve thought Martha Kellett to be the culprit? I mean, it defies logic in
my opinion. An ageing body, she’d be physically useless against some ruffian,
the pressures of syndicate rivalry... should be in a bloody rocking chair
knitting ...’

‘Disagree,’ said Forbes. ‘The
woman was as strong as an ox. You’ve conveniently forgotten her survival in the
subterranean rapids. That incident would test anyone’s strength. As for her
fighting attributes, she quite possibly never had the need to stoop that low.
She was surrounded by enough able-bodied men to counteract that problem.
Kellett was an academic, intellectually superior to your average Joe, not some
bloody two-bit hoodlum.’

‘Boss, did you ever suspect the
Kellett woman?’ asked Martino.

‘No. At no stage did Martha
Kellett draw serious consideration. I dismissed her connection to Lou Hanna as
coincidental. The woman was simply a master of deception, who undisputedly
perfected her dual roles within society It’s a pity that level of intelligence
wasn’t practiced in a more constructive and acceptable way. I trust the
judiciary will see fit to place the Piedpiper behind bars for life. Perhaps
sharing a cell with that bloody idiot Indigo would be justice.’

‘Of course,’ Martino concurred.

‘Oh ... just one more thing. I
should mention that Paul Marsh correctly selected Martha Kellett and for his
troubles I’m now ten dollars out of pocket,’ added Forbes to the sound of a few
heckles and laughs.

‘Will that be the last we hear of
Scorpio and Traffik?’

‘Traffik is well and truly
defunct. As for Scorpio, syndicate headquarters will continue to function and I
daresay a new regional base will be high on their agenda. Both the Keeper and
Piedpiper have been deleted from the equation, but unfortunately replacements
will now be groomed to fulfill these vacancies.’

The postmortem address rallied on
for a further twenty minutes. The barrage of questions continued with each
participant anxious to resolve further aspects of the puzzle. Barring the
lengthy legal formalities and forthcoming court appearances, Detective Sergeant
Alan Forbes now considered the case closed.

The Piedpiper of Pedley was no
more.

~ * ~

hree
months had transpired since the gangland reprisals. The trail of destruction
and extensive loss of life had left its punishing scar. Rain had persisted
throughout the week and a howling southerly exerted its influence in periodical
bursts. Seemingly Mother Nature wanted to contribute to the surrounding doom
and gloom. There had become a noticeable downward trend in tourism, and in
particular, the depleted numbers at the caravan park was a concerning trend. Pedley,
it seemed, would take some time to heal its wounds. In a small tight-knit
community where town folk intermingled, the atrocities had touched each and
every person in some varying degree.

Whilst the aftermath had dug
deep, most realised that life must go on to at least keep the economy at status
quo. To dwell on the past could have an adverse effect, with the possibility of
plunging the township into an unwanted recession. It was therefore heartening
to see the local community pull together and make the best of a difficult
situation.

On this particular day, as with
most bloody Friday’s, I was running the usual errands for Emily downtown. With
this vast list of chores destined to fulfill my afternoon, I decided to take a
break from the sheer monotony of it all. It was time to pay homage to Pedley’s
fallen citizens. A newly erected memorial stone had been commissioned in Covert
Road. It was only a short walk to view the commemorative remembrance and I felt
this strong sense of duty to pay my respects.

With my arrival I paused for a
moment to reflect on those who had paid the ultimate sacrifice. Standing
dignified on the central lawn divide, the rather large column accentuated the
abnormity of human loss. The honour list paid tribute to not only the victims
of the Broadbent bombing, but deservedly, included those who had lost their
lives on the
Molly Bloom
or through other means. I looked on the many
names in quiet solitude, reflecting on those who had passed my way throughout
the ordeal.

To this day the memories had
remained so vivid and with each name read on the marbled monument, a different
ominous event would spring to mind. I couldn’t help but think how fortunate
certain individuals had been to escape the clutches of those responsible:
Arthur Simpson, Brigit O’Neill, Hamish O’Connor and the remaining committee
members. Fate knows no boundaries and indeed has no exemptions. You either have
good fortune or not, there are no half-measures.

It had been three months since
Detective Forbes and his crew departed Pedley. Life had returned to a somewhat
normal and less eventful state, a situation I’m sure Burke and Whittaker were
only too happy to reside over. I took a moment to contemplate on what had
transpired since the arrest of the infamous Piedpiper.