Scorpio's Lot (42 page)

‘So what happens to the girl now
she’s no longer a threat?’ questioned Bradbury.

‘She’ll remain here for a while
and then we’ll decide her fate.’

‘And Tom Harrison’s future?’

‘Neville, you’ve never met the
man, have you?’ asked the Piedpiper.

‘No.’

‘Nice chap, actually. Pity he got
mixed up in all this business. Tom’s no longer a threat since he was never
privy to any worthwhile knowledge.’

~ * ~

It
was nine am when James Slattery and Kurt Muller arrived at the Pedley Police
Station. They had been summoned by the station head to attend an interview,
each having no prior knowledge of the intended subject for discussion. They
were ushered into Alan Forbes’ office, where they sat waiting for him. A
whiteboard covered by an oversized sheet hung on the wall directly behind his
desk. James wondered what could be hidden. He visualised some theatrical act
where the detective would reveal their committed crimes with a flick of his
wrist. James felt tempted to peep, but in a moment the opportunity was lost as
the pompous detective, together with Whittaker, walked into the room.

‘Gentlemen, thank you for your
attendance. We’ll come straight to the point as we don’t have a great deal of
time,’ said Forbes.

‘The other morning I observed the
two of you conferring downtown,’ said Whittaker. ‘Can you tell me what that was
all about?’

‘We had a chat about cars and
doing some fishing together. What’s the crime in that?’ questioned Muller in
his typical challenging way.

‘None whatsoever. Mr Slattery, I
saw you transfer a package and it would be appreciated if you could enlighten
us as to the contents.’

‘I’ve already been through this
with Detective Marsh.’

‘I’m well aware of that, but I
need you to tell me.’

‘It was a carburettor.’

‘Yes, that coincides with Marsh’s
report. Mr Muller, my sergeant informs me that your statement claimed the same
package contained fishing tackle, is that correct?’

Kurt Muller had now turned
decisively uncomfortable. His face turned red with this unexpected development.
He appeared lost on how to respond to the policeman’s remark.

‘Mr Muller, is that correct?’
Whittaker persisted.

‘Yes,’ he replied quietly.

‘Good, we finally have that
matter settled. So what will it be gentlemen, the carburettor or the fishing
tackle?’

Neither came forward with an
explanation. Forbes sat at his desk observing their uncomfortable behaviour.
Like Whittaker, he stared at both men waiting for an answer. Unable to control
his patience any longer, he let fly with a damning insinuation.

‘Neither of you has the guts to
speak the truth. I’m beginning to think that package contains something far
sinister. Mr Muller, do you still have this box?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good, Detective Marsh will
accompany you back to the caravan park to inspect the contents.’

The body language that Alan
Forbes was observing indicated that his accusation had hit a bullseye. What in
the hell were these two hiding? And were the contents incriminating in some
way? He continued with the questioning.

‘Let me tell you something.
Neither of you will be leaving this place until I have the truth. The remainder
of my day is totally devoted to interviewing the
Molly Bloom
passengers.
Either you tell me now or wait around for the next four or five hours. What
will it be?’

Not wanting to waste his entire
day brooding over what might have been, it was James Slattery who decided to
come clean. Kurt Muller, through his own admission and stupidity, had now spilt
the beans by declaring the package was still in his possession.

‘Detective, there were two things
...’ Slattery commenced, and then paused.

‘Go on, Mr Slattery.’

‘It contained pornographic
material and some drugs,’ confessed Slattery, knowing only too well the
policeman would detect the smell of dope upon lifting the lid from the box
anyway.

‘What sort of drugs?’

‘Nothing too heavy, only some
weed.’

‘Can you be more precise?’

‘Marijuana.’

‘Right, were finally getting
somewhere.’

‘We’re not into heroin,’
volunteered Muller, trying to justify his actions.

‘Where did you obtain this drug,
Mr Slattery?’ asked Forbes, ignoring Muller’s contribution.

‘From a local supplier.’

‘Can you be more specific?’

‘Through a street dealer here in
Pedley.’

‘Does this person have a name?’

‘I’ve heard some people refer to
him as Charlie.’

‘For the first time you’ve
finally been direct with me.’

‘Will any charges be laid?’
queried Muller, anxious to know where he stood in all this mess.

‘I will give that my
consideration in due course. For the moment I have enough on my plate to
contend with,’ replied Forbes, leaving Muller to wonder. ‘Mr, Slattery, what
really disappoints me is that you deliberately lied in your earlier interview.
We were told you had neither the interest nor the money to support the habit
and here you are passing the bloody stuff in the main street.’

James Slattery offered no
comeback line and simply nodded in agreement with the policeman.

‘Now you both may understand why
your actions frustrate me. Not only are you liars but you’re taking up a lot of
my valuable time with this type of behaviour. You are both free to leave, but I
insist the station be informed if either of you plan to leave Pedley for
pleasure or business. On your way out would you please ask Tom Harrison to step
into my office.’

‘One last thing,’ said Slattery. ‘Is
there any news on Brigit O’Neill’s kidnapping?’

‘Nothing. We are doing everything
in our power to find her.’

~ * ~

I
walked into Alan Forbes’ office expecting a serve for my recent country jaunt.
It would be fair to assume the police wanted to point the blame for
contributing to Brigit’s kidnapping. Perhaps I was to become their scapegoat.
Whittaker’s attendance came as a surprise and I could only surmise their dual
presence would deliver a double whammy.

‘Mr Harrison, we finally meet
again,’ said Forbes. ‘I hear you were hospitalised following the events aboard
the
Molly Bloom.
How do you feel today?’

‘I’m all right, it was only for a
further checkup at outpatients. I was one of the luckier passengers, you might
say.’

‘Yes, an unfortunate situation,
but it doesn’t excuse your behaviour over the past three days,’ declared
Forbes.

‘My thoughts were only for Brigit’s
safety.’

‘Your intentions may have been
honourable, but you chose to ignore all the police warnings and in doing so
allowed the syndicate to gain the upper hand. Do you have any idea of the time
and resources your actions have cost me?’

‘I assure you there was no
intention to purposely lead you astray. We did attempt to visit the police
station on the day we drove to Peterswood but unfortunately the syndicate was
waiting for us.’

‘Please relate the events leading
up to the boat incident, including your encounter at Peterswood,’ insisted
Forbes, clearly not impressed with my track record.

I briefed Forbes on the complete
round trip.

At the end of my summary he
sighed. ‘That’s some story. Persistence won in the end for this drug syndicate,
in addition to the distinct lack of police presence. Mr Harrison, there is also
a further consideration to this saga that we cannot overlook.’

‘Oh, and what might that be?’

‘That it was your intention to
kidnap Brigit O’Neill,’ he stated forcefully.

‘What! You must be kidding. Why
on earth would I want to kidnap my own niece?’

The bold insinuation even raised
Whittaker’s eyebrows. Obviously he had not anticipated this line of questioning
either, but he sat back and observed the proceedings without intervening.

‘Because your type knows no
boundaries -’

‘Excuse me!’

‘Mr Harrison, you were the one
person who controlled the situation. Think about it for a moment. You had
constant access, you chose to relocate, you chose the destinations, you decided
when the time was right to move on, et cetera, et cetera. Do you want me to add
a few more?’

I sat staring at the detective in
disbelief. Had I not already explained the risks and confrontations that we’d
had to deal with throughout this godforsaken journey? Alan Forbes had stepped
way over the line with this insinuation.

‘Have you gone stark raving mad?
What in the hell are you implying by saying “destinations and relocations”?’ I
bellowed out in sheer anger.

‘Please keep your voice down, Mr
Harrison. Look at the circumstances from a police perspective. You were the
person who just happened to rescue Brigit before the intruders arrived at her
home. Coincidence or prior knowledge? You were the person who took Brigit to
the caravan park and then had her relocated just prior to the intruders
arriving. Coincidence or prior knowledge? Again you were the person who
influenced the trip to Peterswood and just managed to escape in time.
Coincidence or prior knowledge?’

‘That’s bullshit!’

‘I can quote you further examples
and the pattern continues. One coincidence I accept, but three, four, five and
I begin to be suspicious,’ said Forbes, further inciting my emotions.

‘But I fought off those
cutthroats to protect Brigit.’

‘Cutthroat or competitor?’

‘What in the hell do you mean by
that?’

‘What’s to say you weren’t
competing against these “cutthroats” for the spoils, meaning whoever successfully
kidnapped Brigit would be well rewarded by the hierarchy. Your intention was to
maintain the advantage over your rivals and ultimately carry through with the
intended plan. Unfortunately their constant pursuit was your eventual downfall,
because aboard the
Molly Bloom
they had the numbers to claim their
prize.’

‘Again that’s bullshit. You only
have to talk with your own men or even Hamish O’Connor and the passengers on
the boat to verify my story.’

‘You forgot to mention Brigit O’Neill,
the very person who can vouch for your actions, but unfortunately, due to her
current disposition, she cannot testify.’

‘Yes, detective, isn’t hindsight
a wonderful thing now that Brigit’s plight has become public knowledge? If you
recall I forewarned the police more than once that she was in a vulnerable
position following her discharge from hospital, but you dismissed the idea,
stating it was purely speculation.’

‘Insufficient evidence at the
time, Mr Harrison. And besides, we don’t have the resources to act on every
conceivable whim the public musters up.’

‘Exactly. I had the foresight to
prevent the earlier kidnapping while you chose to ignore the threat,’ I
responded with a degree of animosity.

‘Correction, Mr Harrison, and I
forewarn you where these accusations may be heading. If you recall, I gave
instructions to have a patrol car carry out some random checks of the O’Neill
residence during both daylight hours and into the evening.’