Scorpio's Lot (20 page)

‘A storm brewing?’ questioned
Emily, unaware of the approaching inclement weather.

‘Yes, it’s been broadcast over
the radio for the past two hours. It appears the regions between Pedley and
Ashworth will be hardest hit. At least most of my message was received before I
was cut off. They’re on their own now until backup arrives, which will take
upwards of two to three hours. I’ll send two officers from the station, but
Detective Marsh and I must remain in Pedley to address Ruth Evans’ murder.’

Forbes then phoned the station,
instructing that Burke and Martino be sent to Hamish O’Connor’s farm
immediately.

~ * ~

ho
was that on the phone?’ enquired Brigit.

‘Forbes. He said to check if we’re
being followed by the syndicate. We’re to alert Hamish of the problem and he
told me two men will be sent to Peterswood for our protection and return. He
also mentioned something about an approaching storm. The call went dead after
that.’

‘But we’ve already told Hamish.’

‘Yes, I know, but this
approaching storm is news to me.’ I turned on the car radio. ‘Brigit, it’s
taken this phone call to make me realise how careless I’ve been. When we left
Pedley this morning I just assumed we’d given those bastards the flick. The
police may well be right about us being followed. How bloody stupid of me.’

The radio was playing ‘Hotel
California’, but this was no time to enjoy the Eagles’ classic for I needed to
tune into a weather report. I tried another station and picked up some talkback
dribble concerning a dietician’s magic formula. A further selection offered a
tranquil Norah Jones number. I decided to try again shortly. I lowered the
volume and left the dial on a non-commercial station.

I looked behind us,
half-expecting to see a car following from a distance. There was nothing to be
seen; the continuous winding road didn’t help matters. I focused on the rear
vision mirror and after a minute my eye caught the reflection of two cars
getting closer. Suddenly they were within ten car lengths and my heartbeat
started to increase. Had the syndicate caught up with us?

The two cars followed us for some
time through this undulating countryside that provided no opportunity for the
impatient driver to pass. Up hill, down dale - the road’s unbroken centre line
emphasised the apparent danger to the risk-takers. Finally there was a passable
section of road and, not missing the opportunity, the two cars pulled out and
tore down the straight stretch, disappearing into the distance. Following their
departure and our relief came the long-awaited weather report. I adjusted the
volume to listen.

The Bureau of Meteorology has
issued a flood watch for areas east of Ravensmouth Peninsula through to the
Cascade Heads. Severe weather conditions are expected within the next few hours
that will affect the regions of Blakey, Middleton and Ashworth. The bureau is
expected to upgrade the issue to a flood warning as the night progresses. The
coastguard has posted a moderate to severe storm warning for areas between
Seddon and Grimsley. Further updates will be broadcast as they come to hand.

‘You’d never believe this sort of
weather was on the way with these sunny conditions at the moment,’ I said.

‘Calm before the storm, as they
say,’ offered Brigit with a grin.

I noticed a welcome sign for
Ashworth and considered this to be perfect timing for a ten-minute rest.
Ashworth was your typical bush town boasting around a dozen or so shops and a
corner pub, all congregated on this one section of road with some scattered
houses at either end. Nestled in a picturesque valley, the place had an
old-world charm as if time had forgotten to pay a visit. I decided to buy some
beer and, knowing Hamish enjoyed his whiskey, I thought a bottle of Irish
Jameson wouldn’t go astray. Perhaps some Guinness if I was lucky enough.
Brigit, being rather partial to aniseed, decided upon a six-pack of ouzo and
Coke. I grabbed some meat from the butcher’s and fresh bread from the bakery. I
had no intention of welching off Hamish’s hospitality.

Looking skyward with this
approaching storm in mind, I was at a loss as to what all the fuss was over.
The weather at the moment was both calm and sunny. For a late winter’s
afternoon, the present conditions were almost perfect. Then I detected a
strange combination of colours approaching from the far western heavens. The
sky in this corner reflected varying shades of purples and yellows and I could
only conclude that this was our menacing thunder squall.

Returning to the car, I thought
my eyes were playing tricks. There was Stephen Buchanan on the opposite side of
the road, walking out of the only bank in town. I gave him a friendly wave but
received no return gesture. It was as if the guy had looked straight through
me. He entered a 4WD that was occupied by an adult male I couldn’t identify
through the tinted windows.

‘Brigit, is that Stephen Buchanan
on the other side of the road about to climb into his car?’

‘Yes, that’s the bank manager guy
from Pedley. I wonder what he’s doing here?’

We watched him drive off in the
direction of Peterswood. How odd, I thought. I would’ve expected him to be
heading back toward Pedley. Perhaps he was on a fishing trip with a mate to try
their luck in catching some of the local trout. But then again, fishing with
the likelihood of an approaching storm seemed unlikely. We loaded our car with
the groceries and drink and then climbed aboard for the final leg of the
journey.

‘How far to go now?’ Brigit asked
as Ashworth disappeared from view.

‘About twenty minutes. Keep an
eye on your side mirror just in case we’re being followed.’

‘Tom, what I can’t understand is
why these people are going to such lengths to find me.’

‘Think about it, Brigit. You’re
not exactly an innocent bystander who just happened to get in their way.
Because you have some knowledge of their operation it’s fair to say they’re
treating your situation with a bit more emphasis. From their point of view Jake
may have told you more than you were allowed to know. Therefore they can’t
afford to ignore this risk for fear of their operation being exposed.’

‘But that’s just it. I don’t know
any more than my dealings on the street,’ said Brigit in a bewildered tone.

‘That may be so, but they don’t
know that.’

I checked the mirror but there
was no distant car to be seen. I decided upon a different approach, primarily
to get Brigit’s mind away from this cat-and-mouse pursuit.

‘When I discovered Ruth Evans’
body lying on the caravan floor, there were some letters written in her own
blood. I took some notes, so have a look and tell me if it means anything.’ I
passed Brigit my notebook.

She studied the crude lettering
and shrugged her shoulders in a negative response. ‘Can’t say I do. Why the
gaps between some letters? It doesn’t make sense.’ She read the sequence of
letters out loud. ‘P-I-E, D-P, I-I.’

‘Keep in mind these letters were
written by a dying woman, which explains why they’re crude in appearance and
irregularly spaced. My idea is that Ruth was dead before she could complete the
message.’ Silence reigned for a while as we both enjoyed taking in the splendid
countryside that was now on show. The terrain had become more dramatic since
leaving Ashworth. Hills were now steeper to climb, making way for deeper
valleys that yielded ferneries and numerous creek crossings. There was no
shortage of water in these parts and the lush green vegetation and general
scenery would please the most fastidious of landscape painters. Pine
plantations had sprung up along the side of hills, as had a few lavender farms.
Occasionally lakes and waterfalls would suddenly appear, completing this picturesque
rural landscape that could only be described as God’s country. It was truly a
magnificent drive.

Neither Tom nor Brigit was aware
that the 4WD was still trailing about one minute behind. They continued to be
slack in their lack of observation, adopting an out-of-sight-out-of-mind
mentality. Forbes’ warning of the potential danger seemed to be forgotten.

~ * ~

The
death of Ruth Evans had shaken the very foundations of Harrison’s Caravan Park.
The majority of tenants who had arrived the previous day had already checked
out, not waiting around for a repeat of last night’s tragedy. Forbes and Marsh
had arrived and were in discussion with the forensics team when Kurt Muller
approached the two detectives.

‘Detective,’ he said to Forbes, ‘I’m
generally not one to cooperate but this business has now become too serious to
ignore. I didn’t sleep well last night and around two o’clock I went for a walk
along the beach. When I returned half an hour later I noticed a car parked on
the road between blocks C and D, so I wandered over to take a closer look and -’

‘Mr Muller, did you by any chance
see the occupants of this car?’ Marsh cut in.

‘No, it was too dark and there
was a thick fog, but I did notice there were three people. One person stayed in
the car while the other two roamed the park.’

‘Did you hear any part of their
conversation?’ Marsh asked.

‘That’s been troubling me because
I did pick up a few words here and there. At the time it didn’t mean much, but
after learning of Ruth’s murder the more I thought about it the more
significant these words became.’

‘And what might they be?’ asked
Forbes, absorbed in Kurt Muller’s encounter.

‘Well, I heard the names “Charlie”
and “Mick” mentioned, but the one that still confuses me is “Piedpiper”. This
one didn’t make –‘

Marsh interrupted again. ‘Did you
say Piedpiper?’

‘Yes.’ Kurt was surprised by the
detective’s sudden interest.

‘Of course, so easy when you have
all the letters,’ Forbes said.

‘Did I say something wrong?’

‘No, Mr Muller. On the contrary,
you’ve done well. This bit of information helps us enormously.’

‘Oh ... glad to be of help,’
responded Kurt, puzzled by the detective’s excited reaction.

‘Tell me, were there further
words you overheard?’ enquired Marsh.

‘There was mention of Ruth Evans
interfering and something about the O’Neill girl disappearing.’

‘It all makes sense,’ Forbes
said. ‘Mr Muller, this information you’ve provided is very much appreciated.
Your observations and timing coincides with the forensic report. Ruth Evans’
death has been recorded at some time between two and four in the morning. The
men you witnessed last night were Ruth Evans’ killers, and I must say you can
consider yourself lucky you weren’t seen.’

‘One more thing,’ Kurt said. ‘We
need some police protection here at the park. I’ve overheard the other tenants
being concerned.’

‘We don’t have the resources to
assign someone on site, but what I can do is to arrange for a patrol car to
look in every now and again. That’s the best I can offer.’