Scorpio's Lot (96 page)

‘That’s unfair since I don’t even
know the identity of the Piedpiper.’

‘But with your contacts you must
hear some rumblings about his movements.’

‘Not lately, but if I do you’ll
be the first to know,’ said the traitor.

‘Now, the little task I gave you
last week. How are things progressing?’

‘You mean the underground?’

‘Precisely,’ confirmed the
Traffik supremo.

‘Like I said, I’ve never had the
privilege of being taken to the passageways, but I at least know that one of
the entrances is via Broadbent’s.’

‘And this is where they’ll feel
the brunt of our initial attack. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already
know. You name the site, but don’t know where their disguised entrance is,’
responded Indigo with a degree of ridicule.

‘Easier said than done! At least
I’ve since learnt that a second entry is beside Sapphire Bay,’ claimed the
traitor.

‘Which could be anywhere in the
vicinity of a five-kilometre stretch. Anyway, enough said for one night. I’ll
be in touch over the next two days. Phone me if you have any worthwhile
information. Again thank you for arranging the house,’ concluded Indigo and
then hung up on the Scorpio informant.

~ * ~

 had
arranged a meeting with Forbes, pointing out there was some important
information to be discussed and it maybe useful if further members of his team
were present during the briefing. The appointment was set for ten am and I
decided to have Hamish accompany me for moral support.

When we entered the station’s
reception, it was young Constable Chris Martino who directed us through to an
office where Forbes was seated behind his enormous desk. Again, he didn’t pay
us the courtesy of a customary handshake. I was quickly adjusting to his
rudeness. In contrast, station chief Ross Whittaker, the four detectives and
Darren Burke immediately stood on our entry.

Forbes gestured for us to take
our seats while he topped up his mug with espresso coffee. To be expected, the
hot black fluid remained on the desktop - he had no intention of sharing his
morning’s little luxury. I noticed that his beloved whiteboard hanging behind
the desk had been wiped clean in anticipation of this meeting. Yes, all the
ingredients were here to suggest that our detective was anticipating some
important breakthrough in the case. I decided to start proceedings with my
initial concern.

‘Before I enlighten you all with
our breakthrough discovery,’ I began, ‘I wish to make the police aware that
Arthur Simpson has gone missing and needs to be found.’

‘When did this happen?’ asked
Forbes, seemingly unmoved.

‘We’re now into our third day and
I for one have become concerned about his whereabouts.’

‘Maybe he’s out of town visiting
a friend.’

‘I don’t think so. For starters
his car is still parked in the driveway and it’s not like Arthur to suddenly
disappear without informing someone. It’s totally out of character for the man,
and besides, I would’ve expected some contact, given our close association over
the past week or so.’

‘Yes, I believe that to be a reasonable
request, given it has passed the mandatory waiting period to act,’ Forbes
responded with an air of coldness.

‘Well, I’m relieved to hear that!’
I retaliated with a hint of sarcasm.

Forbes was a heartless prick at
the best of times and I didn’t take kindly to his abide-by-the-book approach,
particularly when a friend’s welfare may be at risk. There would always be
times when rules are meant to be broken, in the name of nipping something in
the bud far quicker. Alan Forbes enjoyed playing God and having the authority
to say yes or no when it suited him.

‘Another thing is that Arthur
tried to reach me on his mobile phone three days ago,’ I said, ‘but when I
returned the call there was only a recorded message. He’s since made no further
attempt.’

‘I’ll have two of my men commence
their investigations this afternoon. We’ll keep you posted on any developments.’

‘Thank you,’ I acknowledged.

‘Now tell us about this breaking
news, Mr Harrison,’ Forbes prompted, obviously wanting to get on with the case in
hand.

‘To come straight to the point we’ve
found the location to the central star well,’ I declared, enjoying the faces of
the astonished constabulary.

‘What! This better be convincing,
Harrison. I’m in no mood for games after assembling a number of resources here
this morning,’ said Forbes.

‘And where might this be, Tom?’
questioned the more positive Whittaker.

‘The right traffic light north
side on Pitt where it intersects with Williams Street –‘

‘But I thought we were looking
for a well, not a bloody traffic light,’ said Forbes with his irritating habit
of interrupting.

‘Let me explain in more detail.
When we last spoke it was agreed that without the true location of the central
star well or point four on the template, the rest of the puzzle would fall into
obscurity.’

‘Yes, I recall. Go on,’ said
Forbes impatiently.

‘We’ve all been to the
intersection and studied the possibilities, but of course never to unearth the
true location until now. Our breakthrough came by way of a report we read at the
local
Advertiser.
The article made reference to the well’s final days
back in March 1903. Apparently it had become an obstruction to horses and carts
that frequented the route, and by its removal and subsequent filling, it
allowed sufficient path to permit two-way traffic.’

‘It still doesn’t tell us much,
and besides, you’ve already referred to this well site at the intersection of
Pitt and Williams,’ Forbes said.

‘On the contrary it tells us a
great deal. For starters it confirms once and for all we have the correct
intersection. We immediately returned to the site and Hamish noticed that one
of the traffic lights was nearly two metres lower than its counterpart.
Considering the two lights were erected on level ground we found this to be
curious, and as a result we decided to do some investigating,’ I explained to
my captive audience.

‘Why didn’t you inform me at this
point?’

‘Because at that stage we lacked
proof,’ I responded to Forbes’ stupid comment and then continued.

‘Our first point of call was the
lands department here in Pedley, where we soon discovered there had been a
history of rework performed at this very spot. The cause given was the
reoccurrence of unstable ground. Torrential rain had eroded the foundations and
subsequently the shire’s sub-contractor in Fletcher and Haines were called on
for repairs. The two most recent cases were back in October of 1988 and April
of 2001.’

‘I’m aware of Fletcher and
Haines. They’re affiliated to the Board of Works, I believe,’ Whittaker
claimed.

‘That’s correct. Hamish and I
then went to their Anderson Street premises where we met a person called Luke.
Now here’s the interesting bit. Luke claimed he did the job in April 2001 and
remembered it well.’

‘Oh, how so?’ queried Forbes.

‘He recalled the work was carried
out following a heavy downpour and the extent of erosion had surprised everyone
onsite. Double the amount of fill was used, as was the tar they laid. Luke
referred to the spot as a weird piece of ground because it gave the impression
that a giant hole loomed below the surface. He told us that more fill could
have been used on that day.’

‘Did he tell you anything else?’

‘Because of Board of Works
standards and regulations, Luke is absolutely certain the pole was reset at the
same height as its counterpart. A few years on and the same traffic light pole
has sunk nearly two metres,’ I declared with a sense of triumph.

Forbes and his men appeared
astounded by this unusual but convincing piece of information.

I continued. ‘So we can only
conclude that the site below the traffic light is indeed the central star well.
The coincidences are too numerous to ignore. Consider the widening of Pitt
Street following the removal of the well, in addition to the star well being
slightly off centre, which is where our traffic light is located,’ I added.

‘I totally agree,’ declared
Forbes, unable to hide his enthusiasm.

For Alan Forbes to be the first
to express his endorsement was true recognition. I finally had the pompous fool
giving us some well-deserved credit. My next piece of information would
undoubtedly have his brain cells working in overdrive.

‘With the star well site
revealed, Hamish and I went back to my office to place our template on a map to
the specified scale. From what we now believe to be the correct location of the
central star well, I inscribed the long awaited true circle with the aid of a
protractor from point four.’

‘Did you bring the map?’ asked
Forbes impatiently.

‘Yes.’ I reached into my jacket
pocket and spread the map in front of them.

Everybody stepped forward to take
up a vantage point around this vast desk. Nine men peered down at the circle
inscribed on the map. There was silence for nearly a minute while they studied
the penciled route. I decided to elaborate on the nine specified landmarks.

‘You can clearly see the circle
encompasses some well-known Pedley landmarks -’

Again the interrupting Forbes
stole the limelight. His beloved whiteboard was just begging to be written on.

‘Mr Harrison, would you please
call out these sites in clockwise order and I’ll write them down on my board.’

‘Certainly.’

‘I see your park comes into
consideration,’ said Forbes.

‘I wouldn’t take too much notice
of that.’

‘Oh, and why not, if I may ask?’

‘Other than being directly below
a permanent building, I have turned my place upside down and couldn’t find
anything remotely suspicious. If by some unexplained reason an entrance is to
be found, then logic tells me there should be evidence of unstable foundations.
Each building still sits as true as the day it was erected.’

‘Fair point,’ Forbes
acknowledged.

‘Hamish and I took the liberty of
assessing these landmarks and as you can appreciate some sites were outside our
jurisdiction. Let me give you an overview of these places you see on your whiteboard
and what we’ve considered to be your shortlist of candidates.’

For the next few minutes I had
the undivided attention of Forbes’ task force. On the completion of my
presentation, which incidentally was delivered without interruption, I turned
to my audience and declared, ‘So there we have it, our unbiased synopsis.’ I
returned the black marker to its resting place.