Scorpio's Lot (52 page)

In an uncontrollable urge to
seduce the captured girl, Charlie’s one-hundred-kilogram frame now laid upon
her significantly smaller and fragile body. With total disregard for her
dilemma, his arousal level had elevated into a frenzied state in his attempt to
discard the two sets of clothing. With his one free hand he savagely ripped
Brigit’s blouse apart, exploding the row of buttons. Her firm breasts now lay
exposed. To fulfill his intended act he attempted to discard his own trousers.
In the excitement and difficulty of the process, he momentarily used his other
arm.

With his hand now removed from
her mouth, Brigit immediately let out an ear-piercing scream that would wake
the dead. Fondling, it would seem, had now made way for the ultimate prize.
Ignoring her desperate yells for help, Charlie was determined to carry out his
lustful act. He repositioned his body for the final assault, reminiscent of a
praying mantis about to devour its prey.

A severe blow to the head caught
him unawares, rendering him dazed and concussed. As he was dragged away by two
hooded accomplices, Brigit was left alone to gather herself. She sobbed
uncontrollably, and there was every likelihood the ordeal would leave its
permanent mark and related insecurities. With torn clothing, she remained
crouched in the corner, in fear of Charlie’s return but grateful that some
decency existed amongst her abductors. She felt the strong urge to shower and
cleanse her body in addition to some comforting female company, if indeed the
fairer sex existed within this male-dominated underground. Then she felt the
need for Jake beside her, and knowing this was impossible she broke down again
in uncontrollable tears. If ever loneliness and despair was cruelly measured in
descending levels, this was indeed her lowest moment.

The sound of the door key being
inserted again alerted her attention. She froze, wondering who would enter.
Surely not Charlie again. Wary of his intended purpose, she looked upon a
shorter man of solid build wearing a balaclava and carrying a first aid box.

‘Don’t be alarmed. I’m not here
to hurt you. I have some medical supplies in this box and it would be best if
you allow me to check for any cuts and abrasions he may have inflicted upon
you,’ he said.

The man cleansed the wounds and
applied some gauze dressing where necessary. He was gentle and considerate,
apologising for his accomplice’s attack. There was some humanity in this lot
after all, she thought. Upon completing the task he told Brigit that a clean
set of clothes would be waiting for her following a shower, which was scheduled
in half an hour’s time. Appreciative of the man’s help, she would nonetheless
retain the physical and mental anguish of today’s ordeal for sometime.
Additionally, the arrival of Ferret, her new neighbour, would provide
opportunity to break the day from its monotonous routine.

~ * ~

orbes
and Marsh entered the offices of the carnival organisers. Displaying their
badges, they asked a young and nervously giggling assistant if her manager
could attend to some general questions. A bearded man sporting a ponytail and
an abundance of jewellery came into view.

Following introductions, the
manager, Russell Harvey, said, ‘Now, how can I help you gentlemen?’

‘We would like a word with you in
private, if we may,’ said Forbes.

‘Certainly, my office would be
suitable,’ Harvey replied, gesturing for them to step forward.

‘Thank you,’ responded Forbes,
taking a seat.

‘I hope nothing’s wrong,
detective.’

‘On the contrary, Mr Harvey. We
all look forward to the carnival. Our visit today is of a confidential nature,
so our intended topic of conversation must remain within these walls. Do you
understand?’

‘My lips are sealed.’

‘We have it on good authority
that the supreme head of a drug organisation known as Scorpio will be visiting
Pedley during the carnival. Their syndicate leader, who is called the Keeper,
will be arriving on Saturday, but how and at what time is unknown. We are told
he intends to meet with his regional head, the Piedpiper, to pass some
incriminating document concerning a rival syndicate.’

‘The Keeper and his Piedpiper! No
prizes for originality there. I assume these are the same people responsible
for those recent murders,’ replied Harvey dryly.

‘Yes,’ acknowledged Forbes,
ignoring the gibe. ‘Our objective is to arrest these people and unearth their
southern operation. Unfortunately the identities of the Keeper and Piedpiper
are not known. It’s possible a rival syndicate may also be present during the
carnival, which at this stage could be considered a burden or a bonus. Again we
can’t identify this other organisation.’

‘But how can I assist you?’

‘Considerably, Mr Harvey. It’s
only an assumption, but logic tells us that if a document is to be passed it
could happen amongst a crowd of people who invariably will be watching the
parade. This, you would think, would be the best diversion since the vast
majority of people would take little notice of some exchange happening in the
background. On the assumption our hunch is correct, this is where you come into
it.’

‘In what way?’ enquired the
puzzled manager.

‘We need to know which route the
parade will take, the time it commences and finishes, together with the number
of floats, musical bands and whatever other entertainment you have planned,’
explained Forbes. ‘With this information I can arrange to have my men placed at
strategic and prime locations to oversee the parade and its spectators.’

‘That shouldn’t present a
problem,’ acknowledged Harvey, reaching for a rolled-up sheet and four
paperweights. He spread the large sheet of paper across a table covering the
entire surface. The three men looked down on a detailed street map of Pedley.

‘The area marked with the yellow
highlighter is the intended route. Commencing in Bridge Street at twelve noon,
the parade will turn left into Covert Road and travel down to the town’s main
arterial in Pitt Street. A right into Pitt travelling four blocks, then a
further right into Baker Street and second left into Vincent Road where the
parade concludes,’ informed the carnival manager with an orchestrated flair.

‘Seems very straightforward,’
offered Marsh.

‘We’ll assess this route for
vantage points after our discussion,’ said Forbes.

‘At what time would you expect
the parade to be finished?’ queried Marsh.

‘The procession should take just
under an hour, which would make the time approaching one o’clock.’

‘What have you got planned if
rain persists?’ Forbes asked.

‘Unless it’s a downpour, the
procession will still go ahead.’

‘And what type of parade
entertainment are we to expect?’

‘The majority of exhibitions will
be floats. Additionally, we have a good variety of musicians providing
everything from rock and classical through to jazz and blues. The remainder
will be made up of marching girls, clowns, mannequins, and of course the
crowned Princess of the Carnival,’ he responded.

‘How many floats?’

‘Forty-seven, since three have
withdrawn. Each year we allow a maximum of fifty, otherwise the parade becomes
too long. The logistics behind the spectacle are quite challenging when you
consider our objective is to provide the public with a nonstop procession.’

‘Mr Harvey,’ Forbes said, ‘I can’t
think of anything further for the moment. May I have your business card in case
I need to contact you?’

‘Detective Forbes, this drug
organisation you speak of is a concern, considering they are connected to all
these recent murders and violence. I have a responsibility to provide a
successful carnival, which of course includes safety for the general public.
Further, I have a second drug syndicate to possibly contend with and yet I’m
instructed our meeting is confidential. With only one day before the carnival
starts, you have placed me in a very precarious position. What reassurances can
you provide that the carnival will not be subjected to some violent outburst?’

‘I can’t, Mr Harvey, other than
by providing a higher police presence. I have seventeen officers at my disposal
from the local station and this can be boosted by a further six from
neighbouring townships.’

‘But your men will be randomly
positioned and not necessarily at the appropriate location should a problem
arise,’ challenged the carnival manager.

‘Please understand the situation
from our perspective. We do not know the identity of these people, but I assure
you my men will be in position with total communication to deal with any
problems that may arise. And that, Mr Harvey, is the best I can offer.’

‘Very well, detective, but I’m
not totally convinced. There’ll be somewhere in the vicinity of twenty thousand
people converging on Pedley this weekend and a handful of police officers doesn’t
exactly conjure up some comfort zone with me.’

‘Mr Harvey, thank you for your
input and time today. We’ll see our own way out,’ said Forbes before the
manager could muster up some further criticism.

~ * ~

Paul
Marsh had sketched a duplicate of Harvey’s parade route, being mindful to
include all street names and prominent vantage points. With Forbes now behind
the wheel and Marsh navigating, they made the decision to commence their
assessment in Bridge Street, given this was the intended start of the procession.
Turning into Covert and through to Pitt, both men observed the initial part of
the route to be on higher ground, progressively descending as they drove along
Pitt Street closer to the foreshore. To this point, multiple-storey buildings
occupied each passing corner site, providing excellent vantage points to view
the parade and spectators. The latter and lower part of the route offered only
single-level dwellings, which would prove more difficult from an observation
aspect. Forbes had seen enough, deciding to return to the station in readiness
for his pre-carnival meeting with the rest of the team.

Excluding the front desk duty
officer, the entire station was assembled to receive their general orders.
Forbes commenced his briefing in front of a packed audience.

‘Today’s meeting doesn’t focus so
much on individuals but with emphasis on our preparation for tomorrow’s
carnival. Additionally, there is some breaking news regarding an underground
network and an update with respect to Broadbent’s search warrant. I have taken
the liberty of including Detective Senior Sergeant Graeme Bailey via a phone
link during proceedings.’

The call was made and converted
to loudspeaker.

‘Can you hear me, Graeme?’ Forbes
said.

‘Loud and clear. Please proceed
with your briefing and I’ll intervene where necessary,’ Bailey responded.

For the benefit of Bailey, Forbes
reiterated the story Tom Harrison had volunteered regarding the underground
network beneath Pedley. Additionally, he pointed out there were reasonable
grounds to suspect the site was possibly the syndicate’s regional headquarters,
incorporating a storage facility and isolation area where Brigit O’Neill could
be held captive.