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Authors: Ray Smithies

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

Scorpio's Lot (22 page)

BOOK: Scorpio's Lot
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‘Not so difficult, Charlie,’ the
Piedpiper responded coolly. ‘If I remember correctly there’s a large metal box
in the back of the 4WD that was put there some days ago. Look inside and you’ll
see an arsenal of weapons and aids at your disposal. I suggest you use the
Schitz trail scent and spread that around the place where necessary to confuse
the dogs. Additionally, the use of the tranquilising gun would be most
appropriate, but remember there are only three darts left so ensure your aim is
accurate.’

 

‘But, boss, they’ll be hard to
see at night. These critters move pretty quickly.’ Charlie was suddenly having
doubts about his marksmanship skills.

 

‘Charlie, do I have to do all the
thinking for you? Attach a night lens to the barrel and the problem’s
immediately solved.’

 

‘Wouldn’t it be easier to just
shoot the dogs?’

 

‘You’ll only attract attention
from the neighbouring farms and then there would be bigger problems to deal
with. No, under the circumstances the tranquiliser will be a suitable and
effective solution.’

 

‘Um ... how long will the dogs
sleep for?’ asked Charlie, wondering if they would be back on their feet in
five minutes.

 

‘The drug wears off in a bit over
an hour.’

 

‘Okay, boss.’

 

‘And Charlie, remember to abide
by the rules if the police intercept. I’ll phone back tonight if there are no
more questions.’

 

The Piedpiper hung up, leaving
the two men to lie in wait. Charlie hoped it wouldn’t be too long because
patience wasn’t an attribute he excelled in.

 

~ * ~

 

While
at the caravan park, Forbes decided to interview the residents on the
off-chance that further information would come to light, given Kurt Muller’s
testimony. When he approached the office to ask Emily for a list of tenants he
heard the sound of someone sobbing in the adjoining living room. Ringing the
attendant bell, he was surprised to see Martha Kellett come to his assistance.

 

‘Detective Forbes, please come
through. Poor Emily’s having problems coping with the thought of Tom being
exposed to all this danger.’

 

Forbes entered the room. ‘Mrs
Harrison, I’m sorry to trouble you again but please be assured we’re doing
everything possible regarding your husband’s predicament. I have two of my men
about to leave for Peterswood in case the circumstances change for the worst.
It’s just a precaution but a necessary one as we discussed earlier.’

 

‘Thank you, but hopefully it won’t
come to that. I’m sorry you’ve seen me in this state. I’ve been trying to keep
a positive view on things, but in the end it just gets to you. I asked Martha
to come over for some company, which I’m very grateful for.’

 

‘Very commendable, Miss Kellett.
Good to see support toward your fellow neighbour. Mrs Harrison, please don’t
apologise. It’s quite a natural reaction given the circumstances. The reason
for my call is to obtain a list of tenants. I need to interview these people in
the hope that someone may’ve seen something last night.’

 

‘But most people have already
left the park this morning because of Ruth’s murder. I can’t blame them for not
wanting to stay,’ said Emily, reaching for the tenant’s book.

 

‘But surely some tenants still
remain. Unless we have further startling dilemmas to deal with.’

 

‘Spare me your cynical humour,
detective,’ Emily said. ‘Here’s the shortlist.’

 

‘Have you heard from your husband
yet?’

 

‘No, not as yet. I tried phoning
him a short time ago but got his voicemail. I don’t think the signal’s very
strong in that area.’

 

‘Not many tenants remain,’ Forbes
said. ‘I count only five sites, excluding Ruth Evans of course. These
interviews should all be concluded by early evening.’

 

With a slight tilt of the head,
Forbes left and resumed his duties with Marsh.

 

‘That man makes my skin crawl,’
Emily muttered to Martha.

 

~ * ~

 

 

 

T

he light-hearted discussion being exchanged at the farm was in
strong contrast to the surrounding dangers. Brigit continued to speak of the
Irish connection, with Hamish and myself sharing the occasional joke and
reminiscing on days gone by. It was a relaxed reunion, which the three of us
were enjoying immensely. The sun had now disappeared, making way for the
brewing clouds in the west, and the night outside was becoming dark and cold.
Hamish had continued to add red gum to the open fire, and the dogs lay on their
mats lapping up the heat.

 

‘Shepherd’s pie and
veggies for dinner, everyone!’ called Hamish from the kitchen, much to our
approval.

 

As we sat down to
eat, Brigit said, ‘Hamish, what do you do with your spare time?’

 

‘Besides a little TV
and socialising with the locals, I make some furniture pieces from various
woods like pine, cedar, maple and birch. My favourites are mahogany and
rosewood, but these timbers are so expensive today.’

 

‘That doesn’t
surprise me. You always did have a love of timber,’ I said.

 

‘What sort of
furniture do you make?’ Brigit enquired.

 

‘Sometimes I get
requests in certain woods for bed frames and drawers or maybe tables and
chairs. It can be just about anything. I was once asked to build a two-storey
kennel for five beagles. According to their owner, these hound dogs need to
sleep together,’ Hamish chuckled.

 

‘I guess it’s
challenging and time-consuming,’ Brigit said.

 

‘Not
really. It’s a case of practice makes perfect, so to speak, after you’ve been
doing it for twelve years or so. It can get a little tricky when I’m asked to
reproduce period furniture. These clients generally bring their picture or
drawing of a Queen Anne, Chippendale or Edwardian p
iece. This is where the real
money is to be made because these people are generally not short of a quid and
will pay top dollar for reproductions.’

 

‘Can I see some of your work
while I’m here?’

 

‘You can have a look tomorrow,
Brigit. I keep everything in the shed out the back, but it’s too damn cold to
venture out there at the moment.’

 

After we’d finished dinner Hamish
brought out some port to drink by the hearth. Brigit also enjoyed a glass as
the three of us sat by the open fire, which continued to cast its hypnotic
spell of heat and flames. What better way to idle your time away on a cold
winter’s night, I thought. My thoughts went out to Emily, for I knew she would
be worrying. Perhaps a further attempt to reach her by mobile was in order. I
dialed the number and as to be expected there was no signal. I would try again
later.

 

‘Why don’t you try the landline,
Tom,’ suggested Hamish.

 

‘Very well.’ I picked up the
phone. ‘The line’s dead. Nothing.’

 

‘Maybe this approaching storm has
something to do with it,’ said Hamish. ‘I better check outside before the rain
hits.’

 

At that moment Cain and Abel stirred
ever so slightly. A slow, deep, muffled growl could be heard coming from Cain,
but the two continued to lie on the mat.

 

‘They only react this way when we
have visitors and I’m not aware of anyone else coming here tonight,’ said
Hamish.

 

The growls intensified. With ears
alert, the Dobermans had their heads tilted at forty-five degrees. Knowing
someone was approaching the cabin, Hamish walked toward the window and peered
through the glass pane, but the darkness of the night offered no movement in return.
Both dogs were now on their feet and were waiting at the door for their master
to give the command. Brigit and I remained by the fireplace as Hamish ordered
his dogs to stay prior to opening the front door. Hamish turned on the porch
light, stepped out and closed the door behind him.

 

Through the window I saw Hamish
standing on the verandah, looking into the darkness of the night. A
quarter-moon provided little light from behind the clouds. The landscape
reflected only black and varying shades of the darkest grey. The weather was
deteriorating and it would be difficult to make out the shape of someone
approaching.

 

‘Anyone out there?’ yelled Hamish
as the wind let out its first indication that a change was imminent.

 

No reply. He called again but to
no avail. Whatever was out there had decided to stay put. The dogs were now in
a frenzy behind the closed door.

 

Hamish came back inside and with
a worried look loaded two shotguns.

 

‘I hope you know how to use this,’
he said to me, ‘because there’s something very wrong out there. Judging by the
dogs’ reaction my guess would be a person is out there and not some stray
animal. By the way, the landline’s been cut.’

 

‘Maybe it’s these drug people.
But how would they know of this place?’ asked Brigit.

 

‘I’m going to release the dogs to
hunt them down,’ Hamish said. ‘Tom, grab that torch so we can see where they
go.’

 

‘I’m coming too,’ said Brigit.

 

‘No bloody way. Stay indoors for
your own good,’ Hamish instructed.

 

He opened the door and upon his
command “hunt” the Dobermans tore into the darkness with exceptional speed. Our
torch followed the dogs’ route, which was in the direction of the gravel
roadway leading down to the entrance. Cain and Abel suddenly stopped halfway
down the drive and, uncharacteristic of their breed, began to pace in circles
trying to pick up the scent.

 

‘These bastards have spread a
trail scent,’ fumed Hamish.

 

At this point the dogs went their
separate ways, with Cain trailing a scent down the east bank toward the first
dam and Abel concentrating on the immediate area but still appearing confused
as to the correct path to take. Growling, then whimpering, Abel’s nose led her
on three different short trails, but with each diversion she returned to the
same position. The poor bitch was utterly and totally confused. Her whimpering
was more out of frustration than vengeance. Then the unthinkable happened.

 

We heard a loud yelp from Cain’s
direction. With the torch now facing the east bank, Hamish and I hurried toward
the animal sound that had now become more of a faint whine. The beam of light
finally picked up the outline of Cain’s body lying still upon the icy grass.
Hamish dropped down on all fours to check the condition of his beloved pet and
companion.

 

‘He’s alive, thank God. I can
still feel a pulse. They’ve used a tranquilising gun to silence him.’ Hamish
pulled out the dart and passed it to me. ‘I’ll carry him back to the fireplace
for some warmth and then we’ll see what Abel’s up to. My guess is these cowards
won’t come forward until both dogs are out of the way.’

 

Having taken care of Cain, Hamish
returned to my side and we walked toward the sound of Abel’s continual
frustration.

 

‘Go get ‘em, girl!’ called an
insistent Hamish, encouraging his second Dobe to locate her prey.

BOOK: Scorpio's Lot
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