Scorpio's Lot (130 page)

Thirty seconds had transpired and
still no sign of either policemen. Forbes’ screams above the soaring waters had
little impact. His normally aggravating tongue was but a mere whisper.
Momentarily forgetting the Piedpiper’s esteemed presence, the desperate search
continued for the two men. The four of us prodded away into the obscure
floodway. Relentless in our pursuit the task was proving futile. There was
simply no detection of either officer.

Thinking the situation now
hovered on life or death over the next thirty seconds, the sudden emergence of
Paul Marsh ascending upright from the flood was an enormous relief. Some five
metres ahead he commenced a coughing fit, undoubtedly trying to discharge the
sheer amount of water intake. Forbes immediately went to his side while we
continued our search for Gallagher.

The situation was both grave and
desperate. Gallagher had now been submerged for a minute and a half. Logic told
me his lungs would collapse at any moment if they hadn’t already. It was rare
for individuals to maintain the distance beyond two to three minutes. If only there
was some indication as to where his body had progressed. Still we prodded into
the rapid waters anxious for the detective’s whereabouts, but our perseverance
continued to offer nothing in return. He had simply vanished and undoubtedly
was at the mercy of the strong current. It was now reasonable to assume the
detective had been swept some length down the main corridor. As to the likely
distance, well that was anybody’s guess.

The deluge continued to gather
momentum, intensified by the narrow winding passageway that seemed to swirl the
approaching violent flow. It was a frightening situation that commanded caution
and the ability to remain upright against impossible odds. Gallagher had now
been missing for nearly four minutes and the inevitable appeared the probable
outcome. With near exhaustion imminent, the frantic search had slackened to a
moderate pace. We had to accept that Peter Gallagher was destined for the
bowels beneath Pedley. Any chance of rescue now seemed but a distant
possibility, for a limited time frame had finally become the impregnable
obstacle.

The reality of the situation was
too much for Alan Forbes to bear. He let out a cry of anguish and frustration.

My concentration briefly focused
back to Paul Marsh. He stood leaning behind the convenience of Forbes’ bulky
frame, undoubtedly to provide a limited shield from the unrelenting surge. The
young detective appeared to have overcome the odds. Fitness was most likely his
saving grace.

The small entourage continued to
struggle toward the level two staircase. Regretfully their colleague would have
to be left behind to the mercy of the floods. The elapsed time had now
overruled any further search. Besides, Forbes had to now consider the safe
return of his remaining subordinates. It had also left a bitter taste and god
help the Piedpiper if they ever reached the surface. Now chest high in cold
water, the unrelenting rapids maintained its punishing onslaught. I wondered
how far this elusive staircase could be, for at this rate it would only be a
matter of time before these rapids claimed its next victim.

As if on cue, the Piedpiper lost
balance and was quickly lost beneath the raging water. Forbes nearly had a
coronary not wanting to lose his most prized scalp. Screaming at his two
detectives, he instructed the men to recover the hooded felon from the
watercourse’s grasp. Doyle and Parnell were both close to the incident. The
four trailing SOG troopers quickly pushed forward, their bodies swaying in
tempo against the current. Frantically they began searching for their nemesis.
Logic implied the person would be swept forward given the raging flow, but
hopefully not to the extent of Gallagher’s dilemma.

Thirty seconds had passed when
suddenly Parnell’s helmet light detected the Piedpiper’s head as he struggled
to stay upright against the current. The felon’s brief appearance had once
again descended beneath. Forbes screamed to his men to form a human chain
across the passageway to prevent the criminal from plunging downstream. The SOG
unit was still making up headway. Their trailing attempts and ultimate
assistance would be in vain. Forbes’ help could only be drawn from the
immediate vicinity. I surged across to bridge the gap that Doyle and Parnell
couldn’t quite fulfill. Forbes and Marsh stood behind, effectively creating a
second barrier.

The frame of the Piedpiper
suddenly broke the surface. Like a soaring periscope the man reappeared almost
vertically. It was a remarkable sight, similar to that of an air-filled tyre
breaking free from the water’s stranglehold. His arms and legs became entangled
with Doyle’s rigid stance. An obvious lack of balance and short-term confusion
was apparent. With assistance from Parnell the man was quickly brought to an
upright position. Forbes heaved a sigh of relief, not out of elation, but
rather, that he was still alive to face his just deserts. The determination
shown by the men had rescued the drug lord.

What an anticlimax, I thought.
How cruel fate can be in selecting who survives. I was sure Forbes would trade
a dozen Piedpipers to bring Gallagher back, but knowing this to be impossible,
he had at least the satisfaction of putting the bastard behind bars if they
ever escape this place.

Surprisingly, the Scorpio leader
seemed to have survived the incident reasonably well. The heavy clothing
possibly prevented the criminal from drifting too far. I looked across,
believing the man’s survival was a miracle. I briefly wondered if it had been
intended as a ploy to rid the police of their grasp on things.

The group recommenced their
arduous task to reach the ascending steps. We ambled pass the conspicuous
looking compressor, now silent and possibly destined to a watery grave. The
impending staircase could only be a short distance now. Testing our ability to
withstand its punishing flow, the undercurrent caused many of us to take hold
of a fellow colleague for added stability. The precarious balancing act was
testing both nerve and stamina. Ascendance to level two couldn’t come quick
enough.

To everybody’s surprise the
rapids ceased their life threatening intrusion. The deluge literally stopped as
quickly as the flow had commenced. The gods were finally looking down on us.
Good fortune, it seemed, had arrived in the nick of time. The tributary at
first commenced to stabilise, their collective water patterns gradually
settling to a stagnant state. At near shoulder height the waters began to
recede at a tolerable rate. I sensed the flood had reached its peak and with
low tide destined to exert its influence, the near surface subterranean world
would drain its passageways accordingly. With the return of high tide I knew
the first two levels would remain unaffected.

We forged ahead at a moderate
pace, the passive watercourse now providing a non-threatening path. Despite the
cold waters we were now on course to reach the ascending steps. Finally the
long awaited staircase came into view. It was a welcome sight.

~ * ~

On
reaching the steps, Forbes instructed the entourage to climb its path and to
wait at the landing for his arrival.

Without warning and not wishing
to cooperate, the Scorpio leader withdrew a gun from his side coat pocket.
Forbes didn’t appear overly concerned with the blighter’s feeble display. In
retaliation he simply shouted at the Piedpiper to ascend the steps. His firearm
was saturated having been submerged for a considerable length of time. It was
highly probable the weapon would be deemed as useless, with the likelihood of
jamming on operation. It was possibly the criminal’s last pathetic attempt to
avoid the inevitable. Soaked to the core and with no apparent escape, the
Piedpiper of Pedley was now forced to ascend the steps amidst the surround of
the constabulary.

Although nearing exhaustion,
Forbes was well aware the disclosure of this scoundrel would soon be revealed.
He would not miss this opportunity under any circumstances. The flood was a
close call, but in a sense it had served some usefulness. Ironically the
actions of the Piedpiper had forced the issue, whereby he had no alternative
but to accompany the police to the safety of higher ground. The detective’s one
regret was the loss of Peter Gallagher, his most trusted and loyal colleague.
He had to finally come to terms the body was now at the mercy of the deluge
below. Forbes’ emotional state reflected a mixture of sadness and unrelenting
anger toward the Piedpiper. He took a short moment to contemplate before
joining his troops.

Forbes then ascended the steps
both wet and cold. The awaiting party acknowledged his arrival by stepping to
one side and allowing their superior to commence proceedings. The moment of
truth had arrived. The long-awaited decision to surrender was finally declared,
evident by the subsequent release of the gun on the bluestone floor.

The lone figure simply stood
still with arms fully extended to both sides. The head was marginally tilted
toward the ground. Not a word was uttered by the captive. The detective
immediately stepped forward to retrieve the weapon.

‘Reveal yourself!’ demanded
Forbes, unable to contain his patience.

The police waited but no effort
was made to cooperate. Forbes signaled to one of his men to remove the
balaclava. The time had arrived to finally put all their guesswork and
aspirations to rest. Bit by bit the tight fitting mask began to come apart at
the seams. To everybody’s shock, it wasn’t so much the exposure of the lower
face, but rather, the length of hair that was being revealed. This was not a
male person as anticipated, but in fact a woman. Everybody continued to stare
as a full face began to manifest itself. Finally, and now totally exposed, the
sight of the Piedpiper brought instant shock and disbelief to all watching the
performance.

There stood the tall and thickset
build of Martha Kellett. She wore an impassive look and made no attempt to speak.

Like everyone else, I too looked
on this woman, my trusting and kind-hearted neighbour, as if there had been
some terrible mistake. This can’t be right, a voice from within kept repeating.
How could this be? It would take some time for the shock element to subside.

Forbes then proceeded with the
rites and subsequent arrest.

‘Martha Kellett, you are hereby
formally charged for the atrocities you –‘

Screams of anguish cut short the
detective’s formalities. This pleasant and propitious person I once knew had
turned into a deranged nutcase that seemed so totally foreign. Like a
poltergeist or wailing banshee, Martha Kellett had transformed herself into a
frightening and frenzy state of insanity. The acceptance of capture was just
too much to bear. It had become a very disturbing sight. Reminiscent of the
infamous Brad Morgan, she shook in uncontrollable rage, her eyeballs protruding
so noticeably you’d swear they were about to exit their sockets.

Forbes slapped Martha across the
face to bring her to her senses. Returning to a more subdued state, she was
then handcuffed and directed by two detectives en route to the surface. In an
act of benevolence and feeble apology, a somewhat embarrassed Alan Forbes
turned to me with a typical heartless remark.

‘No hard feelings, Harrison?’

I simply nodded in response. In a
strange way he did at least acknowledge the error of his judgment. Finally the
persistent and pompous Forbes would now leave me in peace. I took my last look
at Martha Kellett being led away by the dose attendance of Doyle and Parnell.
Now void of expression she epitomised the very meaning of betrayal, despise and
corruption. It would take some time to overcome this unexpected shock. In the
excitement of the night’s unfolding drama I had forgotten about my elusive
credit card.

The Piedpiper would now be taken
to the station for questioning. Following his post-arrest interrogation, Forbes
would then address his men in the morning. His summary of the case would be
better served with a clear head and in the presence of the entire team. In
recognition of their commitment and contribution, they too deserved some
answers with this final arrest. Apart from Peter Gallagher, Forbes’ one other
regret was his inability to recognise and capture the guilty party earlier.

He now owed Marsh ten dollars for
correctly selecting Martha Kellett.

~ * ~