Scorpio's Lot (73 page)

Bradbury had to think quickly,
for Morgan’s patience was beginning to wear thin. He glanced through the window
and saw that the nuns had finished their discussion and were walking toward the
church. He was in no position to deliberate any further; the two sisters would
have to become the diversion. He moved to his right as he called on the decoy
to work its deception.

‘Looks like we may have company,’
Bradbury said to Morgan, successfully managing the three-step transition.

‘Get back against the wall!’
ordered Morgan, peering through the window. ‘I doubt they’re heading this way.’

It was Father Byrne who responded
to Morgan’s uncertainty. ‘For your information, I’m expecting visitors shortly.’

‘Shut up!’ Morgan was clearly
agitated by this new development.

Bradbury had moved to the wall
and was now conveniently standing directly in front of the switch. With his
arms clasped behind his back, his fingers commenced searching for the elusive
button. A brief smile of encouragement from the priest reinforced his will to
succeed. He finally located the button, but hesitated for a moment in executing
the alarm. Would a noise be heard? What would Morgan’s reaction be? Would
Father Byrne, in his vulnerable position, be subjected to some physical
outpouring of vengeance? The risk was evident but the gamble was necessary.

Bradbury pressed the button and
immediately heard a repetitive bell. The hallowed confines of the church seem
to intensify its blaring effect.

‘What the bloody hell is that?’
roared Morgan, holding the priest with a firmer grip.

‘That alarm informs both the
police and security of an existing problem at the parish,’ declared the priest,
committing a white lie to mislead his assailant. In reality the alarm was no
more than a fire alert, but he wasn’t about to divulge its true purpose to Brad
Morgan. The priest thought that perhaps his own confession was now in order
after having deliberately lied to and deceived the aggressor. Still, he had
just cause, he thought.

‘The authorities will be here
shortly.’ Bradbury moved in closer to the priest.

Morgan was clearly taken by
surprise. The look on his face indicated he was in two minds about what next to
do. A noticeable twitch had suddenly become apparent. The arrogance and
taunting remarks had now ceased. He had unexpectedly become an individual of
anxiety and uncertainty. Morgan suddenly appeared vulnerable and, perhaps more
disturbingly, unpredictable.

Bradbury heard movement from
within the church. Perhaps the clergy or worshipers were retreating to the
safety of the outdoors.

Amidst the confusion Morgan
momentarily forgot about the knife he held, his arm releasing the priest to
investigate the commotion from the vestry door. Seizing the opportunity,
Bradbury made a charge and wrestled Morgan to the floor. Morgan lashed out with
his weapon as the two men struggled to gain the upper hand. A second swipe
caught Bradbury on the side of the body, the switchblade ripping through his
clothes and penetrating the skin in a long sweeping arc. Blood flowed as
Bradbury clutched the wound. The priest watched helplessly on one side. Morgan
had regained the ascendancy.

Realising he could be inundated
with the authorities at any time, Morgan grabbed the priest for assurance as he
departed the room. Two parishioners trying to alert everybody of a suspected
fire screamed at the sight of the priest being held at knifepoint. They simply
stared at the unthinkable.

Bradbury had now revived and was determined
to put a stop to this madness. Despite the blood flow from what appeared to be
a superficial wound, he stepped forward into the hallway to rescue the priest.
Such was the man’s determination, adrenalin and will to succeed would now
override his apparent physical handicap. Unfortunately Bradbury’s heroics were
short-lived. No amount of brute force could reverse the situation, for Morgan
clearly held the advantage with the priest pressed up hard against the
switchblade. Bradbury stopped, not wanting to provoke the psychopath. He couldn’t
underestimate Morgan’s callousness. Patience to strike when opportunity begged
was now the smart option.

More parishioners were beginning
to arrive, horrified to see the assailant’s control over Father Byrne. These
circumstances had now presented Morgan with an ultimatum. There were simply too
many people to deal with and escape had become mandatory. He was in need of
refuge, for in his mind the police would be arriving at any moment. He had made
life difficult for himself, given his appetite for public exposure. The
underground network now loomed as his one and only retreat from the world. He
had run out of options and would therefore have to confront Bradbury at a later
stage. Realising that Father Byrne would only slow his escape, he pushed him
abruptly to one side, causing the terrified priest to land awkwardly and injure
his leg. With only concern for his own survival, Morgan made his getaway by a
side exit door in anticipation that the police would enter via the front
entrance.

Deciding to allow Morgan to flee
his trail of chaos, Bradbury went to the aid of the priest, who lay on the
floor in apparent pain. Bradbury told the spectators there was no fire and
asked someone to switch off the annoying alarm. He then turned his attention to
the priest, reaching down carefully and placing Father Byrne’s upper body
against his own shoulder for support.

The priest returned a smile of
gratitude as Bradbury sat for a moment comforting the padre following his
dramatic ordeal. The emotional strain of the incident was beginning to show its
effects. With moistened eyes Bradbury looked on the priest with concern and
admiration and couldn’t help but feel responsible for his dilemma. A tear
unashamedly ran down his cheek.

‘Don’t be upset, my son, I’ll
survive this ordeal. I’m a tough old nut who doesn’t crack that easy.’

‘But Father, you’re injured and
in need of medical treatment. The least I can do is take you to the hospital.’

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘I can’t accept that. I’m sure I
speak on behalf of everyone here that a checkup is warranted,’ Bradbury
insisted.

‘This is sound advice. I don’t
want to hear a repeat of your stubborn ways,’ came unexpected support from
Father Duffy.

‘Then all is settled. I will
return with Father Byrne following his checkup,’ Bradbury declared.

~ * ~

The
short trip to Pedley Base Hospital provided the priest with an opportunity to
ask some fundamental questions. It seemed that even a man of the cloth had need
to satisfy certain curiosities.

‘What is your name, my son?’ he
enquired.

‘Neville Bradbury, Father. I’m
the warehouse manager at Broadbent.’

‘Ah yes, I’m aware of that
establishment in Covert Road. We’ve had need to purchase some commodities from
time to time,’ the priest responded.

‘Please ask for me if ever you
need something.’

‘Who was that man, Neville?’

‘He’s a ruthless killer with drug
connections and no respect for anybody. He’s extremely dangerous and best
avoided at all times. I assure you he won’t be troubling the church any more.’

‘You realise the police will need
to be approached on this matter.’

‘Of course, the sooner this man
is apprehended the better for all,’ replied Bradbury with complete truth and
conviction.

‘How is your wound?’ asked the
priest.

‘The bleeding has stopped, but I’ll
have them take a look just to be sure.’

Bradbury parked his car
conveniently beside the outpatients’ entrance. The triage nurse on duty
immediately ushered the priest through to a waiting doctor. Fortunately it was
a quiet time so there was no laborious waiting period. Having taken care of
Father Byrne, Bradbury proceeded to have his flesh wound cleaned and dressed as
a precautionary measure against infection. Following the hospital discharge he
would drive the priest back to the church and then contact the Piedpiper
regarding the actions of Brad Morgan.

~ * ~

‘That’s
a load of crap! I can’t believe Neville would tell anyone about the syndicate’s
operations,’ remonstrated Sol from the underground headquarters.

‘He’s a threat to the organisation,’
claimed Morgan, trying to manufacture resentment against the man.

‘Bradbury has proven his loyalty
over the years. His service has always been without question,’ insisted Sol,
not taking kindly to Morgan’s insinuations.

‘People change and this one’s no
exception.’

‘The man has simply gone to
church. There’s no crime in doing that.’

‘I saw him go into a confession
box. That priest probably knows where the underground network is located.’

Sol lashed out. ‘You’re a bloody
drama queen, Morgan! Have you any idea what confession is all about? For
starters, Neville had a conscience and has asked forgiveness. It doesn’t imply
he told the priest about our operations. Get a grip on yourself!’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Listen to me, Morgan. You’re
barking up the wrong tree with this accusation. Tell me, did you overhear what
was said?’

‘No, but I still don’t trust him.’

‘What made you follow him to the
church anyway?’

‘Ditto!’ responded the arrogant
man.

‘For Christ’s sake, even if
Bradbury did divulge some information the matter wouldn’t have gone any
further,’ said Sol.

‘How can you be so bloody sure?’

‘Because a priest will never
break the seal of confession. It’s just not done.’

‘That’s your trouble - give
people the benefit of the doubt and it’ll turn around and bite you, wait and
see!’

‘You really have a personal
vendetta against Neville. Why is that?’ Sol had become totally pissed off with
Morgan’s allegations against his respected colleague.

Morgan had become desperate.
Knowing Bradbury would soon be seeking his revenge, he decided to devise a
story to persuade Sol and others to believe his side of the argument. He
quickly came up with a cock-and-bull story.

‘Then explain to me why he was
seen in the church grounds with two suspicious men passing a document of some
kind.’

‘What... perhaps they were
priests.’

‘Wearing dark suits and
sunglasses? Hardly.’

‘Did you recognise either of
them?’

‘No, I’ve never laid eyes on them
before.’

‘And what about this document you
saw?’

‘It was a manila folder. I couldn’t
see the contents, but it seemed to have a number of papers inside.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘The way Bradbury was holding it.
He held the opening of the folder upright so as not to lose the contents.’

‘Did you hear any part of the
conversation?’

‘Nothing. They were too far away.’

‘Did this little rendezvous
happen before or after confession?’ quizzed Sol, who was now totally engrossed
with Morgan’s story.

‘Before –‘

‘That’s a lie!’ roared the
unexpected voice of Bradbury.

Morgan defended himself in the
only way he knew, using torment and sarcasm to undermine Bradbury. ‘Look who’s
paid us a visit. It’s our resident turncoat and I don’t mean the one turned
inside out.’ His front had to be convincing for Bradbury would now challenge
and deny any wrongdoing.