Scorpio's Lot (12 page)

‘The delicate side of the matter
is telling Helen about your drug involvement. She needs to know because this is
where your danger lies.’

‘Is there any way we can avoid
telling her?’

‘Afraid not, she must be told in
light of what I’m about to tell you both.’

‘Well, Tom, it’s my decision and
I prefer not to.’

‘Brigit, you don’t understand.
Your life is far more important than your pride.’

‘All right then, but your story
better be convincing, otherwise you’re history.’

Brigit called for Helen’s return
and once she was seated I asked them both to try and listen without
interruption and not be too hasty in jumping to conclusions. There would be
plenty of time for questions afterwards.

I began with the cliff incident,
giving an account of the suspicious circumstances surrounding the death of Jake
Reynolds. With sufficient evidence to suggest foul play, it was also reasonable
to assume the intended target was undoubtedly Jake himself, given his
predicable morning route. There was enough evidence to suggest that the
perpetrator was part of the local drug syndicate and Jake had stumbled across
something highly incriminating to their organisation.

‘Tell me, Brigit, did Jake ever
mention what he’d uncovered?’ I asked.

‘No, he didn’t.’

‘For reasons I’ll explain later,
it’s this very point that places your life in danger, I’m sorry to say.’

I continued to relate the events
of this past week, drawing attention to Brigit’s role in the local drug trade.
I chose my words cautiously, being careful not to create a scene between the
women, and pointing out that it was marijuana being sold to the young ones and
not heroin. Helen sat with her eyes bulging, barely controlling her anger. To
her credit she remained in her seat without jumping up and throwing a tantrum.

‘I have it on good authority the
men in this local drug syndicate are a ruthless lot and without hesitation will
go to extreme measures to protect their investment. What you need to consider
is the high probability that Jake was privy to a crucial piece of information,
which ultimately led to his death. Following the incident on Thursday night he
went to the police station and reported the matter to Sergeant Burke.
Unfortunately Jake couldn’t or wouldn’t elaborate on what he’d overheard,
except to make reference to some underground network and the distribution of
drugs.’ I looked at Brigit. ‘We need to assume this organisation is of the
belief that Jake had told you and you’re now seen as a threat to their
operation. What makes the circumstances different from Jake or anyone else is
that you’re employed by the syndicate and for that reason alone they need to
act cautiously in determining your fate.’

‘Tom, you’re scaring me,’ said
Brigit.

Ignoring the emotions, I
continued to search for answers. ‘Was Jake ever involved in drugs?’

‘Never. He even disapproved of
those in his sport who were taking certain drugs to enhance their performance.’

‘Have you ever heard of this
so-called underground network?’

‘No.’

‘Did Jake know of your
involvement?’

‘Hell, no! If he did it would’ve
been the end of our relationship.’

‘With regards to your role in all
this, do you have names and descriptions of these people, and was there a
regular meeting place where you carried out the exchange?’

Brigit told her story focused in
my direction only, ignoring the gestures and sighs coming from Helen. Brigit
explained the intended rendezvous was always chosen at random and only one
person from the syndicate ever made the exchange. He was a person of large
build, around six feet tall and called himself Charlie. Their meetings were
always held at night and he wore heavy dark clothing and a large rimmed hat
that made it near impossible to see the man’s features.

‘Brigit, I cannot believe you are
dealing in drugs!’ said Helen, unable to contain herself any longer.

‘Look, you know I haven’t had a
job for some time so this has become my income. I’ve got to live, damn it.’

‘But schoolchildren, for goodness
sake! Are you out of your mind?’ snapped Helen.

‘For God’s sake, give me some
credit. At least I’m not an addict,’ retaliated Brigit.

‘Will you two cut it out,’ I
intervened, trying to regain some order. ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere. We
need to focus on the problem.’

‘As I see it, we need to phone
the police,’ reasoned Helen.

‘I’ve already spoken to Detective
Forbes, the man in charge of the case, and highlighted these dangers. He seemed
reluctant to do anything, claiming my remarks were only speculation. I asked
for police protection but he could only offer random patrols, saying that lack
of resources prevented any full-time surveillance.’

‘If what you’re telling us is
true, then random calls are hardly an acceptable level of protection,’ Helen
added.

‘I see two alternatives, Brigit.
Either a trip to the police station or we hide you from these fiends and
quickly.’

‘Hide
me? Where do you have in mind?’
said Brigit.

‘Let me explain. I’ve discussed
the matter with Emily, who doesn’t object to hiding you in one of our caravan
sites for a while. We can spread the news around town that you’ve gone away to
convalesce for a while.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Helen said. ‘I
still say the police are the only sensible choice -’

‘What, and risk Brigit being
caught when they’re not around.’ I interrupted.

‘Tom, do you think this is really
necessary?’ Brigit said. ‘I mean, it sounds a bit dramatic and –‘

‘Shush!’
I whispered, cutting Brigit short.
‘I think I heard a sound coming from outside the house.’

There was immediate silence. We
heard the smoldering logs from the open fire, then the faint sound of footsteps
on a bricked footpath. Helen clutched Brigit’s arm. Someone was out there pacing
the length of the path. This two-storey house seemed solid enough and forced
entry would take some effort, given the doors were supposedly locked and metal
shutter blinds were fitted to all exterior windows.

Then we heard more footsteps in
from the opposite direction. Could there be a second person? But then I
realised the one set of steps were pacing up and down the same path.

More silence, and I could see
both Brigit and Helen were scared. The look on their faces suggested the
syndicate was about to carry out their evil deeds. Was the news I had just
given them about to become reality or was it just my imagination? A louder
noise coming from the other side of the house made everyone jump. This time the
distinctive sound of metal pounded against my eardrums. It now appeared there
were two people hell bent on entry. What was going on out there? Were they
pulling down a section of roof spouting? Then it suddenly occurred to me that
they were trying to force entry by demolishing one of the window shutters.

Helen whispered, ‘We need to hide
in the cellar.’

‘Why the cellar?’ I asked.

‘There’s a cleverly concealed
entrance which might be our saving grace. The bookcase that runs along the wall
in the hallway actually has an entry door leading to a cellar beneath the
foyer. You’d never know its whereabouts unless shown.’

‘How strange, why would anyone go
to all that trouble?’

‘I’ve often thought of that and
could only conclude this house was probably built by some eccentric who wanted
to protect his prized wine collection.’

‘We’ll go to this cellar of yours
as a last resort. For the moment I need to know what’s happening outside. They’re
probably assessing the place to work out how to gain entry.’

‘Will you two shut up? I’m trying
to listen,’ Brigit intervened.

Silence reigned again. We heard
no footsteps now and the disturbing metallic sound had stopped. Everybody was
tense. The three of us stood motionless in the lounge room in anticipation of
some further sound. The wait seemed like eternity. I’ve got to do something, I
thought. But what? I was becoming desperate and frustrated, for I knew the
women were depending on me.

‘There’s no good in just standing
and waiting around for something to happen. I’m going upstairs to check things
out just in case there are noises coming from the roof. Helen, I need to know
where your ceiling manhole is located.’

‘Just outside the bathroom and
toilet, but why would you need to know that?’

‘If these guys decide to come
through the roof and are carrying torches, they’re likely to enter via the
manhole rather than smash their way through the ceiling. I want you two to stay
together while I’m upstairs. I won’t be long.’

I climbed the staircase
carefully, hoping these thirty steps or so wouldn’t creak and give away my
ascent. I paused on the landing and listened, but no sound greeted me. I
cautiously walked toward the bathroom door, looking up to see if the manhole
cover had been removed. It still sat perfectly flush with its surrounds. So far
so good, I thought. No forced entry, so what next? I checked the bathroom and
three bedrooms - as expected I was totally alone on this level.

The unexpected sight of a
baseball bat leaning against the back bedroom wall was too tempting to dismiss.
I reached for the sporting club, believing it at least provided a means of
defence, and perhaps a weapon if the occasion arose. It was time to go back
down. Helen and Brigit would undoubtedly be anxious for my return.

When I reached the bottom of the
staircase Helen made an obvious and predicable remark. ‘I see you’ve found my
baseball bat. Good thinking, it might prove useful.’

There was a sudden thumping on
the front door as the intruders tried to break in.

I had had enough. I reached for
the landline in the passageway. ‘I’m calling the police.’ But when I picked up
the handpiece I could hear no dial tone. Realising the line had been cut I
retrieved my mobile. I dialed 000 and waited for the connection. On hearing ‘Emergency,
how can we help you?’ I explained our predicament, gave the address and urged
an immediate response.

The unruffled and straightforward
reply simply stated, ‘The police will attend to your situation very soon’. The
line went dead.

When I related the words to Helen
and Brigit, Helen bellowed, ‘Very soon! How long is very soon?’

‘Immediately would be my guess,’
I replied to ease Helen’s anxiety.

The noise coming from the front
door had ceased. The solid hardwood entrance had proven to be a formidable
obstacle. Silence had been reinstated and an uncomfortable waiting period
followed. How long would the police take? The short-lived lull was again
interrupted by a mighty pounding upon the rear door. Helen and Brigit screamed.
The laundry door was distinctly more vulnerable than its front counterpart and
I knew it would take only a short time for the intruders to break entry.

‘Bloody hell, these people are
determined! Where are the police?’ shouted Helen.

‘It’s been two minutes since the
call,’ I said. ‘We can’t simply wait around for the inevitable. It’s time we
made a run for it. My car’s out front.’

‘But Tom, these bastards could be
out the front as well,’ said Brigit.

‘That’s a risk we’ll have to
take. I’d say our chances are better than relying on the police to arrive
before they break through the back door. I’ll go first. If something happens to
me go straight to the car. It’s unlocked and there’s a spare key in the glove
box.’