Scorpio's Lot (64 page)

Progressively circling the
bodies, Forbes took some extra time to re-examine the atrocious wounds from the
front. On each chest a heated branding iron had been used to inflict the feared
symbolic ‘SCORPIO’ trademark. The burnt indentation of a scorpion, measuring
around two hundred millimetres square, was visible in ochre-coloured dye amidst
the torn flesh and dried blood. The erect tail dripping of poison left the
distinct impression the message carried a fatal result.

Looking on the face of one of the
unfortunate souls, the detective could see the heavy use of mascara or perhaps
a charcoal stick applied around the eyes, giving both a hideous and sinister
appearance. A game of noughts and crosses had been inscribed on the man’s
forearm. The bizarre sight left Forbes totally dumbfounded.

Examining a series of needle
puncture marks, so prevalent on each torso and set of feet, Gallagher again
questioned his superior’s opinion regarding the choice of device.

‘Initially I contemplated
something similar to an ancient torture device called an iron maiden but have
since ruled this out given the location of insertions on each body,’ Forbes
said.

‘What’s an iron maiden?’ asked
Gallagher.

‘It was an iron cabinet built
some centuries ago to torture or perhaps even kill a man by piercing his body
with sharp objects like spikes, knives or nails. It was a tomb-like enclosure
with two doors which, when opened, provided enough space to accommodate an
adult male. When the doors were shut these spikes skewered the victim and were
cleverly positioned to miss the vital organs, allowing the person to remain
alive by instead piercing the likes of eyes, genitals, legs, arms, et cetera.
The victim bled profusely and was weakened gradually to the point of death
brought on by blood loss, shock or even suffocation as a result of being
imprisoned in the extremely confined space.’

‘Charming, but surely these
devices are not still in use today.’

‘They were outlawed long ago. I
suspect only a few remain in circulation today, which are probably either on
display in some museum, or else in a private collection preserved by some
eccentric accumulating his bizarre relics.’

‘Then what instrument do you
believe was used?’

‘There was no instrument
involved, for these are puncture marks created by a hammer and nail.’

‘Bloody hell, is there no end to
their madness?’ said Marsh.

‘The sheer magnitude of this
deplorable act worries me immensely. This sort of behaviour is a bit out of my
league. I daresay some expert advice will be sought, primarily to advise on
exactly what it is we’re dealing with and how this case should now be handled.’
Forbes looked across at Hassan, who still appeared to be in a traumatised
state. The poor man will probably need counseling, thought the detective.

~ * ~

That
afternoon, back in the confines of his office, Forbes decided to phone Graeme
Bailey. His intention was to not only discuss the hill incident, but more
importantly to seek advice on where he could turn for support in this bizarre
development. He had freely admitted to his Pedley colleagues that some expert
guidance was now required. This was new territory for the detective, who
despite his many years in the force had never witnessed such gross abuse on a
fellow human being before. Certainly there were some competent candidates he
was aware of, but he also knew a recommendation from his colleague ensured that
a leading expert would be appointed.

Following a detailed briefing of
the morning’s atrocity, Bailey’s initial reaction was one of shock. ‘A gangland
reprisal of this magnitude was not something I expected to hear. News has been
filtering through but it was a bit sketchy until now.’

‘This is the main reason for my
call, Graeme. In all my years I’ve never encountered this level of violence
before. Tortured corpses on public display are something totally foreign to me.
Nobody anticipated this disturbing crisis and I’m not ashamed to admit we are
all in a bit of a dilemma on how to address the matter,’ Forbes admitted.

‘That’s perfectly understandable.
Your team’s in need of specialised advice and direction.’

‘But why the need to go to such
extremes?’

‘To the sane person it defies
logic, but from a professional point of view we need to analyse purpose or
motive and then take appropriate action. We don’t pretend to know all the
answers, which is why we seek the opinion of experts. I’m not surprised to hear
this is the work of the infamous Brad Morgan, who has led our European
counterparts on a merry chase over the years. His record for similar torture
styles is enough to make your hair stand on end. The guy’s a serious psychopath
and therefore a different approach may now be required. Understandably this is
new ground and further reason why we’ll seek expert help.’

‘Who do you have in mind?’

‘Angus Martin is reputedly one of
the force’s finest psychologists. I don’t know him personally but his
reputation is second to none. Apparently his services have been requested to
assist with similar cases overseas.’

‘The guy’s in high demand from
the sound of things. How soon could he make his way to Pedley?’ Forbes asked.

‘I’ll see what can be done to
arrange his visit for tomorrow. Understandably this case will take precedence,
so I believe our chances are good. I’ll give you a call once there’s
confirmation.’

‘Excellent, the sooner we’re
briefed the better.’

‘How did your men handle the
scene this morning?’ asked Bailey, expressing some compassion about their
ordeal.

‘A bit squeamish, to say the least.
A couple of the men didn’t handle it well, claiming they felt a bit
lightheaded. I guess they can be excused given the magnitude of the atrocity.’

‘On a lighter note I have some
good news. We conducted simultaneous raids on the five listed Traffik addresses
and were able to nab four syndicate members. Whether by tip-off or good
fortune, their fifth person eluded the police. Anyway, his apprehension is of
less significance since his role in the operation is of minor importance.’

‘Bloody hell, I forgot about that
list! I’ll put it down to all what’s happened over the past twenty-four hours,’
Forbes said.

‘Fortunately there was no
confrontation at any one address, possibly helped by the sheer numbers we
directed to each scene. They surrendered without struggle, much to my relief,
since blood was the last thing I wanted on my conscience.’

‘Of the four arrested, was there
anyone of importance?’

‘Yes. We captured their number
two and three highest-ranking members.’

‘So where does this now place
Traffik in the context of things? And do they still remain a threat?’

‘Their operation is all but
finished. My one remaining concern is that their leader Indigo is still at
large. When taking into consideration the police raids, together with Scorpio’s
tip-off and their soon to be highly publicised atrocity, the Traffik leader
will be seeking revenge in a big way. How, when and where is anyone’s guess and
quite possibly his vengeance could even be attempted single-handedly.
Unfortunately there’s still a great deal of unrest and I daresay his
retaliation will surface in due course, unless we take steps to prevent it.’

‘Of course.’

Bailey added as an afterthought, ‘You
do realise head office will send further reinforcements given this continual
violence? Don’t be surprised if you’re to coordinate quite a large constituency
from their ranks. So expect a call from the hierarchy.’

~ * ~

 was
still affected by the atrocity from the previous day. Having just completed
lunch with Emily, it was now approaching one pm and although deprived of sleep
I was in a surprisingly restless mood. The events from yesterday had played on
my mind throughout the night, as I lay in bed reliving the sight of those
tortured men.

It was imperative that I take my
mind off things. I needed to find an alternative line of thought, preferably
something mentally stimulating and not just the manually intensive work that
park duties would bring. I then realised that opportunity was indeed begging. I
would grab Hamish and meet with Arthur Simpson at the
Pedley Advertiser
to commence our research into the underground network. After all, these two had
volunteered to participate in this archive pursuit.

Fortunately Ashley Collins, the
reporter responsible for publishing the drug syndicate articles, happened to be
in his office as I phoned to make an appointment. Willing to assist us with our
underground research, he suggested we call by in around one hour’s time. Always
the eager beaver, Hamish didn’t hesitate to come along for the ride, thinking
we would uncover this two-hundred-year-old secret in the space of minutes.
Forever the optimist, I tried to explain to deaf ears that delving through
archives would be similar to that of watching paint dry. Patience was a
prerequisite and I knew Hamish failed miserably in this area.

After parking the car in front of
the publishers, I noticed Arthur Simpson standing alone by the entrance eagerly
awaiting our arrival.

‘Gentlemen, what a great day to
be dabbling through the documents,’ he called enthusiastically.

‘Yeah, I feel a tunnel coming on!’
Hamish gave the impression we were all on some sort of conquest.

‘For Christ’s sake, can you two
cut it out! It’s only the bloody archives.’

We were shown through to Ashley
Collins’s office. He wore a silly welcoming grin as we entered the room. In the
reporter’s world it wasn’t every day that three people stepped forth to probe
into the fabled subterranean passageways. Collins was undoubtedly intrigued and
perhaps could see the editor agreeing on the umpteenth article being rewritten
about this mythical network. After all, the carnage from yesterday’s bloodshed
had thrown more fuel into the fire.

‘Shocking business on the hill
yesterday morning,’ Collins began.

‘Absolutely. The sooner these
bastards are caught the better for all concerned,’ I said.

‘It’s created a field day for us
guys in the media. There’s already an influx from the city tabloids meddling
around town, so it’ll be open warfare as to who can deliver the best story.’

‘I guess with something this big
it can no longer be monopolised by the
Advertiser.’
Collins looked surprised
at the bluntness of my remark.

‘We can’t keep up with the public’s
demand at the moment. It’s a bit like the old saying - bad news sells,’ claimed
the reporter.

‘Anyway, thanks for allowing us
this opportunity,’ I said as a subtle hint to start proceedings.

‘Our archives are at your
disposal, but I warn you, it’ll be a painstaking exercise to go through all
that material.’

‘Do you keep the early editions
on site?’ asked Arthur.