Authors: Ray Smithies
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Drug Traffic, #made by MadMaxAU
‘Yes, Mr Harrison. I believe your
final comment has stunned its listeners,’ declared Alan Forbes.
‘Well, I believe it to be at
least feasible. I mean, there’s very little else on offer that even comes
remotely close to this possibility.’ I wondered what more I could say to
convert this group of sceptics.
‘On the contrary, Mr Harrison,’
replied Forbes, ‘I believe it to be quite sound. What gives me hope is the
source of the information, given Sergeant Burke has vouched for Arthur Simpson’s
character.’
‘Any mention of where these three
entrance sites maybe located?’ asked Gallagher.
‘Unfortunately that’s something I
cannot help you with.’
Burke was next to react. ‘Assuming
Arthur’s story is factual, then this information must be available somewhere.
Otherwise how in the hell could the syndicate have gained entry?’
‘I don’t believe the drug
organisation would just stumble across something like this,’ stated Doyle.
‘Of course not! I believe the
syndicate has done their homework well,’ I claimed.
‘So where would you obtain this
information?’ prompted Burke.
I had started a merry-go-round of
questions amongst the officers. Their excitement in receiving this information
was quite evident from the input I could hear. It was Forbes who provided the
answer.
‘My initial enquiries would focus
on early newspaper editions or perhaps the Lands Department in the city, whose
records go back a considerable length of time.’
‘Makes sense,’ agreed Parnell.
‘Whilst only speculation at this
point in time, it is nonetheless a perfectly logical explanation and one that
warrants further investigation,’ declared Forbes. ‘Mr Harrison, I thank you for
coming forth and not withholding this information. I consider this a high in
the context of things. This case is in need of some hope and direction. With
further enquiry, who knows where all this may lead?’
‘You’re welcome,’ I said.
~ * ~
Since
discretion played a key role, Forbes had arranged for he and Paul Marsh to have
a further meeting with Danny Murdock at the local library. With the drug
syndicate reputed to have many eyes and ears, this cautious approach was
appropriate. While a phone call would probably have been more convenient, the
task force felt that a face-to-face rendezvous would extract more information.
Again Marsh observed a similar
nervousness in Danny.
‘Good to see you, Danny.
Everything all right?’ he questioned, seeing the lad peer over his shoulder on
entering.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just makin’ sure
I wasn’t followed.’
Forbes commenced his stroll
toward a far corner of the library, away from the browsing public. Marsh and
young Danny brought up the rear as the three approached an L-shaped
chesterfield sofa conveniently located for a private rendezvous.
‘This precaution is solely for
your own protection,’ Forbes told Danny. An interview at the station would have
meant a very public entrance and not a risk we’re prepared to take. We need to
talk further about Broad-bent’s and your knowledge of the drug operation. It’s
vital we accumulate as much information as we can prior to the carnival this
weekend.’ ‘Very well, where do ya want me to start?’
‘Let’s start with Ferret and what
you know about this person.’
‘Ferret still hasn’t arrived at
work, which is a worry because the guy generally phones in when he can’t make
it.’
‘Yes, we’re aware of this fact.
What else can you tell us?’ insisted Forbes.
‘I know he’s been screamin’ for
bigger returns. Ferret’s their number one pusher in town. He handles the larger
deals in Pitt Street as well as the Regency and O’Rileys, but the syndicate won’t
reward him with a bigger slice. Anyway, that’s what he claims, unless he’s
boastin’ to make himself look good.’
‘And where does Hassan fit into
the scheme of things?’
‘He’s like a backup. They travel
in pairs around town and generally command respect from most people. I don’t
think too many would challenge these two in case their supply’s cut off. Demand’s
high and Ferret can pick and chose his clients.’
‘Has Ferret ever been threatening
when the syndicate refuses to pay a higher return?’ Forbes asked.
‘Not to my knowledge. He doesn’t
get physical, just whinges a lot.’
‘Do you think Ferret’s
disappearance is linked to the syndicate or to one of his clients?’
‘I doubt his clients since their
only concern is to get dope -’
‘But he may have denied someone
drugs due to demand and supply and they’ve retaliated in some way,’ Forbes cut
in.
‘Don’t think so, because they’d
have the syndicate to deal with and that’s not a good thought, detective. What’s
known is the night Charlie called into Broadbent’s. Ferret was under
instructions to meet someone later, but where and with who I couldn’t quite
hear.’
‘Yes, that all coincides. Ferret
never made it back home that night and were beginning to think he may have met
with foul play,’ declared Forbes.
‘I didn’t know he didn’t return
home, but what makes you suspect there’s foul play?’
‘The day Ferret was interviewed
at the police station he showed a high degree of nervousness and was constantly
looking out my window as if someone from the street was watching,’ Forbes said.
‘If we assume this someone is employed by the syndicate, then we may have good
reason for concern. The guy now has simply disappeared.’
‘Shit! These interviews with the
police are dangerous. You never know where the syndicate is lurkin’!’
‘Which is the very reason why we’re
conducting this interview here, Danny,’ reassured Marsh.
‘I had me suspicions yesterday
when Mr Bradbury started askin’ questions about the night I worked back, which
was the same night I happened to be here, Paul,’ offered the young lad.
‘What type of questions, Danny?’
‘What time did I finish work that
night? Did Ferret see me leave? Did I notice anyone enter the warehouse? Where
did I go after leavin’ work? It was crazy, the amount of questions he threw at
me. I’m not stupid. I knew the manager was trying to find out if I was still at
work when Ferret and Charlie were talkin’ drug business.’
‘Speaking of drug business, we
had a search warrant issued and the place was found to be clean,’ said Marsh.
‘That doesn’t surprise me because
the place is kept in perfect order. Mr Bradbury seemed satisfied with me story,
that I’d left at seven-thirty and driven straight home to run an errand for me
mum at eight. I even asked me mum to cover me in case they rang asking
questions.’
‘Very sensible of you,’ replied
Forbes, counting the number of ‘me’s’ that Danny repeated.
‘By the way,’ Danny said, ‘there’s
some other things I’ve heard that you should know about. The one they call the
Keeper is arrivin’ on Saturday, but how and at what time I dunno. There was
mention again of this incriminating document I talked about before. Apparently
it’ll be passed to the Piedpiper durin’ the carnival, but I dunno which day.
The syndicate thinks this is the safest way because there’ll be a lot of people
around.’
‘The old cliché, safety in
numbers,’ Marsh said.
‘But where and at what stage of
the carnival will it be passed, I wonder,’ said Forbes.
‘My guess is the exchange will
take place during the parade on Saturday,’ Marsh reasoned. ‘I mean it stands to
reason that most people will be focused on the floats and bands and not on some
incidental transfer happening in the background.’
‘That seems quite logical,’
offered the normally indifferent Forbes.
‘We’ll need to assess the course
the parade will take and work out some vantage points along its route. A visit
to speak with the carnival organisers would be in order as well,’ said Marsh.
‘So we have some carnival
activity to attend to,’ Forbes declared, believing they had exhausted Murdock’s
contribution for now.
The detectives thanked young
Danny for his cooperation and left the library.
~ * ~
Brigit
O’Neill’s miserable existence continued with its harrowing repetitive routine.
With no access to a watch or clock, her only clue to the time was the morning
arrival of breakfast. Although well fed and with some adequate reading material
to idle away the hours, she was nonetheless puzzled as to why these fiends
continued to have her locked away. After all, the lie detector test had been in
her favour so why continue with this madness? As she lay thinking about her
hopeless situation, she heard a disturbance at close range.
‘In this room, you fucking
squealer!’ yelled a voice she didn’t recognise.
A scuffle broke out as this
person was forced through the doorway. She heard an exchange of punches,
followed by some further choice language.
‘You weak bastards only operate
in numbers. You haven’t got the guts for one on one!’
‘Not when it comes to a rat like
you!’
Further fighting erupted as a
result of the last remark. Brigit recognised two of the voices - Charlie and
Ferret, whom she knew through the traps. But what was this all about and why
this agro against Ferret? It seemed ludicrous given his track record with
street sales. He was, after all, their kingpin when it came to those lucrative
dollars.
Not displaying his identity,
Charlie yelled from the adjoining room. ‘And how’s our resident bitch today?’
The provocative remark drew no
response from Brigit, who was more concerned with the treatment being meted out
to Ferret.
‘Cat got your tongue, slut?’
mocked Charlie, whose mentality dictated this was payback time after all his
near misses with the chase.
Ferret was finally forced into
his cell sporting a soon-to-be black eye and heavy bruising to the lumbar
region. He was generally handy with his fists, but against three burly
characters he had no chance of a possible victory. He would now be left in the
cell to nurse his injuries and dented pride.
With his adrenalin still pumping,
Charlie decided to venture further and take his chances next door. He waited
until his two accomplices had disappeared, retrieved his balaclava and inserted
a key into the door of Brigit’s chamber. He found her huddled nervously in the
far corner and a conspicuous teardrop was gathering momentum as it ran down the
cheek of her sullen face. For Charlie, this was easy game. He made his advances
toward the defenceless girl.
Unable to stand through fear, she
drew both knees toward her trembling body, revealing more leg as a result of
wearing a tartan kilt skirt.
‘You stay away from me, you
bastard!’
‘And miss an opportunity like
this? Never.’
Brigit was petrified. He crouched
down beside her, placing one hand over her mouth, leaving the other free to
roam at will. With her eyes bulging in anticipation of what was about to
happen, she struggled to remove his enormous hand from her face. Charlie had
already commenced touching her ankle, his hand progressively climbing higher
and running over the contours of her leg. He continued to explore her leg and
the offending hand reached its second objective. The broadening shape of her
thigh had now come into play and Charlie’s breathing grew heavier. Brigit’s
further attempt to remove Charlie’s hand from her mouth was futile since she
lacked the strength of two sound arms to accomplish such a feat. The hindrance
of the plastered dressing had created an impossible task.