Scorpio's Lot (40 page)

Read Scorpio's Lot Online

Authors: Ray Smithies

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Drug Traffic, #made by MadMaxAU

 

Emily sat upon the couch
trembling in fear and not knowing what would happen next. She ignored Morgan’s
advances.

 

‘Cat got your tongue?’ he asked
nonchalantly, and then roared with laughter. ‘I just love that line when there’s
a pussy close by.’

 

Martha, sitting on the same couch
and looking uncomfortable, had moved further away to avoid Morgan breathing
down her neck. Morgan now started in on our frightened neighbour, who sat
motionless.

 

‘And what are you staring at, old
woman? Cat got your tongue as well, it would appear. You’re a sight for sore
eyes, sitting there in your antique clothes. People like you should never be
released into the public forum, otherwise we may have a stampede to contend
with.’

 

‘Leave her alone, you pathetic
coward!’ I snapped. ‘You’ve now got to take your contempt out on two
defenceless women who both mean you no harm. What sort of low-life scum are you
hiding behind that mask of yours.’

 

To my horror, Morgan suddenly
pistol-whipped Martha Kellett on the side of the head, rendering the woman
dazed and concussed. Emily screamed. Martha lay still, spreadeagled across the
couch. Even Charlie’s body language appeared agitated.

 

I immediately went over to
inspect Martha’s wound.

 

‘Stop right there and don’t touch
the woman. She’ll be fine, and besides, it wasn’t one of my better swipes,’
said Morgan.

 

‘You won’t get away with this. Do
you realise these premises are patrolled by the police? They could be here at
any moment.’ I hoped this bluff would be sufficient warning for the men to
depart.

 

‘Come now, Mr Harrison. You
disappoint me. I would’ve expected a more intelligent outburst than these idle
threats. Do not take me for being naive when I already know the police can only
assist with random calls to these premises. Lack of resources, I heard on the
grapevine, and besides, their last visit occurred five minutes before you
kindly allowed us entry.’

 

There was yet another knock at
the front porch. Charlie immediately retreated to the corner that would
conveniently hide his presence upon the door being opened. Morgan gave me a
quick instruction to play it cool and to get rid of this interfering caller or
Emily would receive a bullet to the head. He then retreated to a nearby
passageway where he stood waiting the outcome of this untimely visit.

 

I reached for the door handle,
knowing Em’s life depended upon me playing out a convincing role at the
doorstep.

 

‘Evening, Tom. I’m just checking
to see if everything’s all right. Both Anne and I heard a scream coming from
your house that sounded mighty like Emily.’

 

‘Hi, Jack. Thank you for your
concern but everything is fine. My wife happened to see a mouse running across
the living room, that’s all.’ I hoped he would buy my story and disappear.

 

Jack remained on the porch as if
wanting to start up a conversation. I tried desperately to block his view of
the living room but he peered over my shoulder.

 

‘If I’m not mistaken, that
appears to be Martha Kellett lying on your couch. What’s going on here, Tom?’

 

Jack Flower, now approaching
retirement age, was my nosey neighbour who constantly enquired about the
operations of the caravan park. He generally made a nuisance of himself, but
basically the man meant well despite his interfering ways. He pushed me to one
side for a closer look. My charade at the doorstep had failed to deter him and
he now stood at the entrance in full view of the concussed woman. I had tried
to shut the door to prevent his entry but his bulky frame stood squarely in the
way. His suspicions were now sufficiently aroused to investigate the matter
more closely. Curiosity would be his undoing. He took three steps forward and
then stopped upon sighting Emily. The barrel of Charlie’s pistol pushed hard up
against his back. Not expecting some occurrence from behind, Jack turned in
surprise to see a hooded man breathing down upon him. Charlie then conveniently
closed the front door in seeing his accomplice return to the room. The
intruders then gestured at both of us to stand by Emily and Martha.

 

It was Morgan who broke the
silence. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked Jack.

 

‘Jack Flower.’

 

‘Ah, we have a surname with a
difference,’ Morgan sniggered. ‘Are you the cooking or garden variety?’

 

‘Eh?’

 

‘Come now, either you’re the
self-raising type or a lover of sun and soil. Which will it be?’ queried Morgan
in his ridiculing way.

 

‘Its flower with a w not a u,’
Jack replied, puzzled with the assailant’s abstracted approach.

 

‘Now that wasn’t difficult. You’re
a curious man by nature, Mr Flower. Otherwise you would have accepted Tom
Harrison’s explanation and departed. Instead our little group has now grown to
six.’

 

‘What in God’s name is going on
here?’ Jack said, staring at the hooded man. ‘You bastards deserve to be
castrated going around terrorising folk like this.’

 

‘If you don’t shut up, Blossom, I’ll
instruct my accomplice to fumigate you!’ Morgan sneered.

 

‘How dare you taunt and mock us.
You are nothing but a spineless piece of shit standing there with your gun and
stupid hood,’ blazed Jack, clearly agitated by Morgan’s sarcastic manner.

 

I was becoming concerned with
Jack’s provocative remarks. He didn’t understand that he was dealing with the
heartless behaviour that Brad Morgan was capable of carrying out. I looked
across to Martha, who appeared to be regaining her senses. I had a feeling she
would be witness to further brutality.

 

‘This is your last warning,
Petal, or you’ll become a floral arrangement. Do you understand me?’ Morgan was
obviously starting to run out of patience.

 

‘You wouldn’t have the guts, you
moron!’

 

Jack had now clearly crossed the
line. Signaling a nod to his accomplice, Charlie withdrew a baton and with one
swift lunge landed the weapon directly upon Jack Flower’s head. Through his own
act of stupidity, my neighbour now lay writhing in pain from the vicious blow.

 

Morgan’s parting shot before the
two men made their retreat was to say, ‘Mr Harrison, the purpose of our visit
this evening is twofold. Effective immediately, you are to stop interfering
with the syndicate’s operations and cease with your pursuit of Brigit O’Neill.
Failure to comply with these instructions will result in a further visit, and I
assure you, if a second social call is warranted, then your wife will be
eliminated.’

 

~ * ~

 

 

 

T

hat’s the last of the preliminaries. The polygraph machine now
awaits the arrival of the O’Neill girl,’ said the Piedpiper.

 

‘Are you sure this
will work?’ queried Bradbury.

 

‘Not you too,
Neville. I’ve been through all this with the Keeper, who still remains a
sceptic.’

 

‘But I don’t
understand how these machines work. Are you confident

of an outcome?’

 

‘Naturally, but let
me briefly explain how it works. A lie detector simultaneously records a number
of body responses as the subject is being questioned. It works on the theory
that when a person lies it causes a certain amount of stress, which can be
picked up by changes in several involuntary physiological reactions. By using a
series of different sensors attached to Brigit O’Neill’s body, the polygraph
will measure changes in her breathing, blood pressure, pulse and perspiration
while being questioned. I’ve nominated you to conduct this test primarily to
conceal my identity. I’ll be in the adjacent room with the one-way mirror,
which will enable me to not only monitor her progress via the printout, but
also to observe her body language - her response to the line of questioning you
direct.’

 

‘Did you bring the
list?’ asked Bradbury.

 

‘Here it is.’ The
Piedpiper passed the papers. ‘Neville, I’ve compiled this series of questions
for you. It’s mandatory they be read in the order as written, because as the
enquirer you’ll ask a number of control questions which are specifically
designed to set a pattern of definite true and false responses. Once this
pattern is established then the actual questions are interspersed with filler
enquiries. Over the course of this cross-examination a pattern in the questions
develops which will ultimately tell us if she is lying.’

 

‘Just out of curiosity, do these
lie detectors hold up in a court of law?’

 

‘Let me put it to you this way.
There are some businesses today that are using polygraph tests to screen
potential employees. Although the majority of employers are prohibited by law
to carry out such tests, there are exceptions to the rule for government
contractors, public employees, security personnel and those in the drug company
industry. Theft and industrial espionage investigations can also be included,
but these results are not necessary admissible as evidence in the judiciary
system. There have been cases where it has been permissible on the grounds that
both parties agree to their use.’

 

‘All sounds rather interesting,
whether you’re a believer or not,’ said Bradbury.

 

‘Okay, then let’s get started so
we can find out where we stand with the O’Neill girl.’ The regional head was
becoming impatient to start proceedings.

 

Placing a balaclava over his
head, Bradbury departed to fetch the girl while the Piedpiper retired to the
adjacent room to watch over proceedings.

 

It was only a short walk to the
confines of Brigit’s cell, where she had been left unattended for the past six
hours. Upon the turn of the key Bradbury sensed a movement within as he entered
the bluestone dwelling. He found Brigit sitting on the edge of her bed looking
apprehensive at the sight of this hooded visitor invading her humble
surroundings. This was one of the two men who brought me into this godforsaken
world of stone and skulls, she thought. Forever the defiant one, she ignored
his gestures to accompany him on some further expedition.

 

‘Please don’t make this difficult
for yourself, Miss O’Neill. Would you please come with me?’ asked Bradbury in a
polite manner.

 

Giving no verbal response, Brigit
reluctantly rose from her bed and followed the masked man, wondering where in
the hell this joker was leading her. Five rooms further down the passageway her
court jester suddenly stopped and indicated her entry was required and to be
seated upon the central chair. He proceeded to attach a series of different
sensors to various body parts, arousing Brigit’s suspicion that something
sinister was about to unfold. This included a blood pressure cuff wrapped
around her upper arm, together with a galvanometer placed upon her fingertips
to measure the amount of sweat she produced. To test her respiratory rate, two
rubber tubes were connected to her chest and abdomen to monitor muscle
expansion. She resembled a terrorist all wired up and looking like a walking
time bomb.

 

Not surprisingly, these
procedures were starting to raise her anxiety levels. She cast an eye around
the room, which appeared identical in size to her own but lacked the comforts
of the former despite a blow-heater working overtime in the corner. A large
wall mirror was centrally located and she wondered if they were being viewed
from the other side as seen on television crime shows.

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