Scorpio's Lot (81 page)

‘So tell me, Ms Szabo, what were
you doing handling drugs on the day my men visited the Esplanade?’

‘As I explained to your colleague,
the marijuana was found on a ledge below the bar,’ Piochsa replied with an air
of sureness.

‘But you were caught in
possession.’

‘That I won’t argue, but your
detective jumped to conclusions.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘He assumed the drugs belonged to
me.’

‘Some consider possession to be
nine-tenths of the law,’ said Forbes with a gleam in his eye.

‘Oh, first impressions rule the
roost. Sounds like a case of being pronounced guilty before judgment. Is that
right?’ Piochsa was not impressed with the detective’s innuendo.

‘Perhaps, Ms Szabo. Let me
present the facts and evidence against you. This particular hotel has a history
of dubious undertakings. Drugs, and specifically marijuana, have been subject
to an excessive amount of trafficking over time. By their own admission, all
five security guards employed by this establishment have confessed to illegal
trading. Even from the onset, when Brad Morgan surfaced in Pedley, his
reoccurring presence at the Esplanade could almost be described as a public
relations exercise. And then, of course, don’t overlook hide-away Charlie, who
has a lengthy history of wheeling and dealing.’

‘But these instances are the work
of others.’

‘Of course. So where does Piochsa
Szabo fit into the scheme of things? You are caught in possession with a
sizeable quantity. Hardly an amount that’s only intended for personal use. It’s
an offence to give away just a smidgen of drug, or pass a joint to someone or
in your case handing over some weed

‘That’s bullshit! I’ve done no
such thing!’

Ignoring Piochsa’s plea, the
intimidating Forbes continued with his arrogant delivery. ‘Ms Szabo, the law
doesn’t make any distinction between sharing, giving away or selling. So why
the vast amount? My guess is you collaborate with the syndicate, specifically
Charlie, and have a clientele base which is unrelated to that of the hotel’s
security staff.’

‘Wrong, and you have no proof to
suggest otherwise!’ Piochsa couldn’t believe the venom in Forbes’ accusations.

‘Your line of work provides
opportunity to pass the illegal substance.’

He deliberately chose this
provocative line of questioning to gauge the Hungarian’s reaction. The
detective noted her heightened stress levels. To maintain the apparent status
quo, he commenced to move around the room and invade her personal space to
increase the discomfort. He was a bastard at the best of times, but this
demonstration of inflicting guilt prior to establishing innocence was a
heartless act. Unimpressed with Forbes’ handling of the interview, Piochsa let
fly with a challenging outburst to make her feelings understood.

‘Detective Forbes, you accuse me
of drug trafficking. Your argument is based on possession, when in reality the
substance could be anybody’s property, and yet you persist with these
allegations that are not supported by fact. Your colleague here has had no
input and yet he’s the very person who witnessed the event. Let’s hear if he
has something more tangible to offer.’

Doyle was a little taken aback by
this sudden head-on approach. He hadn’t envisaged Piochsa to be so blatantly
forward. In front of his superior, he knew his stance on the matter had to be
confident and convincing. To falter in front of Forbes would undermine his
credibility.

‘Ms Szabo, you were undeniably
caught in possession of drugs,’ Doyle said. ‘You gave the distinct impression
of trying to hide something, I recall.’

‘That’s a lie! If you recall
correctly, I passed the bag to you immediately. There was no hesitation and I
certainly had nothing to hide. I was simply an innocent bystander who happened
to stumble across the drugs.

Anyone working in the bar on that
day could have found it,’ responded a defiant Piochsa.

‘But no one else did find it. You
were alone in the bar preparing for the start of trade and no doubt were
contemplating where to hide the substance before the intended deal.’

‘That’s ridiculous and you bloody
know it! Tell me, have you questioned other hotel staff regarding my discovery?’

Doyle paused for an uncomfortable
moment. He was well aware his enquiries had not achieved anything. He decided
on a different tack.

‘Ms Szabo, let me advise you that
when the police catch someone with illegal drugs on them, in their home, car or
place of employment, they can be prosecuted even if they aren’t using them
themselves. If prosecuted and found guilty they will understandably end up with
a criminal record. It is, however, a much more serious offence to supply or
intend to supply other people with illegal drugs. In both cases, possession for
personal use or with intent to sell attracts a prison sentence.’

Forbes watched Piochsa carefully,
analysing her reactions and body language. With each stunning attack that
required a thought process or a memory of something specific, her eyes
invariably moved to the right. Her answers were consistently truthful. There
was no hint of deception, no made-up alibi or admission of guilt. Forbes sighed
inwardly, knowing full well the suspect was probably innocent. There was
inconclusive evidence to hold Piochsa Szabo in custody.

From behind the observation
mirror Paul Marsh was livid with the proceedings. His belated return to the
station was unavoidable, but he had heard enough to slam their method of
interviewing. Understandably he had jumped to Piochsa’s defence, not for one
minute believing any indictment against her held sway. Entry into the
interrogation room was strictly out of bounds, but later he had every intention
of expressing his opinion to Forbes.

The Piedpiper phoned the Keeper
and broke the news regarding Morgan’s fate. The delivery was blunt and
meticulous in describing the psychopath’s unstable condition, his attack on the
church and the underground confrontation which had ultimately led to his death.

‘Like I said, he provoked a
life-threatening situation and refused to compromise. There was no alternative
but to take control. It was clearly a case of self-defence,’ declared the
Piedpiper.

As expected, Victor Marlow’s
reaction was one of shock. He rigorously questioned his regional head for the
next ten minutes to gain some insight into the killing and why this extreme
measure couldn’t be avoided. The Piedpiper was cool, calmly explaining the
unfolding sequence of events. Marlow’s third degree was not without challenge
and dispute.

‘Make no mistake, Victor, Morgan
was the aggressor from the outset.’

Finally coming to his senses,
Marlow reluctantly accepted his subordinate’s account of the incident and
decided to press on with other matters. Their conversation centred on the
police and media presence, in addition to the likelihood of Traffik’s head guru
seeking revenge. The discussion was tense and the Piedpiper could detect an
underlying fear the Keeper held for Indigo. The regional head decided to change
the subject and run a decision pass the supreme leader.

‘I’ve decided to release Brigit O’Neill.’

‘What! Have you lost your senses?’
snapped Marlow.

‘On the contrary, it’s the only
sensible thing to do.’

‘How so?’

‘The girl’s become a burden. My
men are constantly having to attend to her needs. They’re better served doing
something far more constructive than playing carer and cook every day. O’Neill
is no threat to the syndicate -’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Her knowledge of the operation
is extremely limited and she has no idea where the underground is. Besides, the
lie detector test produced no shred of evidence against her and everyone’s
identity is still intact. It’s time to let her go, Victor,’ insisted the
Piedpiper.

‘Very well. When do you plan her
release?’

‘Tomorrow night.’

‘Where will you take her?’

‘She’ll be dropped off in some
neighbouring village about fifteen minutes from Pedley to hide the location of
the underground.’

‘I need to come down later in the
week for further discussions, but

I’ll give you a call when I’ve
finalised the day,’ said the Keeper, who immediately hung up the phone.

For a moment the Piedpiper
thought over their tense debate. All in all, the outcome was favourable, given
Victor had finally come to terms with Morgan’s fate and the release of Brigit O’Neill
would assist with boosting resources.

~ * ~

hen
I pressed the button ‘press for attendance’ at the police station’s reception,
young Martino stepped forward to assist me.

‘Hello, Tom, can I help you?’

‘Here to see Forbes with some
breaking news, if he’s in.’

‘One moment and I’ll find out.’

Martino returned and beckoned for
me to enter the detective’s office.

Forbes remained seated on my
entry, without the courtesy of the customary handshake. He simply gestured
toward a visitor’s chair. The guy obviously still had some degree of animosity
toward me.

‘Mr Harrison, my constable tells
me you have some news.’

‘Yes, and quite a breakthrough in
the context of things,’ I replied. ‘Oh?’

‘We’ve discovered the meaning and
use of the three-pointed star.’

‘What? Better explain yourself.’

‘You’ll recall the Simpson letter
that made reference to a mathematical formula in conjunction with a street map.
Well, we now have the answer.’

The detective’s eyes lit up.

In my briefing I touched on the
five crucial clues that had been provided by Gordon Findlay, including the
introduction of an equilateral triangle to assist with the star’s construction.

Forbes seemed somewhat lost with
my explanation. ‘I’m becoming confused with all this. Let’s start again, but
this time use the whiteboard to show how you derived at the answer.’

I decided to exclude the
algebraic formulas that had been chalked on the historian’s blackboard. This
would only further confuse Forbes. The best approach was to reconstruct the
three drawings in the same sequence that Findlay had displayed. After all, this
was self-explanatory and would have more impact than a thousand words. On the
completion of each drawing I gave a brief account of each stage, finally
revealing the star to an astonished Forbes.

‘Where did you say this
information came from?’

‘The Huesmann Historian Group.’