Scorpio's Lot

by Ray Smithies

  ‘Mrs Sharon Scanlan, I presume?’ called Forbes.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, trying to keep the dog at bay.

  ‘My name is Detective Sergeant Alan Forbes and this is my colleague Detective Senior Constable Paul Marsh. We’re here on police business and just need a short moment of your time. Mrs Scanlan, would your husband be home?’

  ‘No, Kevin’s out,’ she answered. ‘Look, what’s this all about?’

  ‘Are you aware of the death of Jake Reynolds and the circumstances surrounding this unfortunate incident?’

  ‘Yes, I was talking to my neighbour Martha Kellett yesterday afternoon,’ said Sharon. ‘It appears there are suspicious grounds and foul play was mentioned. I’m told there’s also a young lady involved who survived the fall. How’s she doing?’

  ‘Brigit O’Neill is in a serious but stable condition, and yes, this case is now being treated as a murder investigation.’

  ‘Not good. And to think a murder’s been committed in our own backyard, so to speak. Makes one shudder,’ Sharon added.

  ‘Mrs Scanlan, we need to know what your movements were on Friday night and into the early hours of Saturday morning, including those of your husband,’ said Marsh, changing the line of questioning.

  ‘Detective, are you implying that we’re under suspicion?’

  ‘No, of course not, it’s simply routine,’ Marsh responded, backing off somewhat. ‘We just need to establish the whereabouts of people leading up to the incident.’

  ‘I stayed at my daughter’s place here in Pedley on Friday night and returned home around eleven Saturday morning. As for Kevin, he drove off in his four-wheel-drive at six to go bush and do some shooting over the weekend.’

  ‘Shooting?’

  ‘Yes, Kevin and his mates go game-shooting every second month down Middleton way, which is around an hour’s drive from Pedley.’

  Forbes decided to try a different tack. ‘Mrs Scanlan, you have a gate on your rear boundary fence which leads directly to the scene of yesterday’s tragedy. Is it kept locked when not in use?’

  ‘Heavens, that gate is permanently locked and probably hasn’t been opened in years. The old lock is rusted and goodness knows where the key is now.’

  ‘Just one last thing. When is your husband due home?’

  ‘Kevin said he’ll be back in time for dinner tonight. Does he need to contact you?’

  ‘No, not necessary. Well, thank you for your time, Mrs Scanlan, and here’s my card should you need to contact me,’ Forbes concluded.

  ~ * ~

  Martha Kellett, their final call in this trio of residents, happened to be in her yard doing some gardening when she spotted the detectives walking toward her.

  ‘Miss Kellett, please excuse our intrusion but we’re investigating the death of Jake Reynolds and you’re on record as being a witness to this incident,’ commenced Forbes, flashing his badge and introducing Marsh.

  ‘Yes, that’s correct, but I’ve already given the details to Sergeant Burke.’

  ‘We’re aware of that, but we also need to hear your story, given the grave nature of this case. Detective Marsh and I have been given the responsibility of heading this investigation. Senior Sergeant Whittaker’s men are at our disposal in a supporting capacity.’

  Martha Kellett reiterated what she had told the sergeant yesterday, being careful not to omit any part she had witnessed from her lounge room window. Her detailed brief was clear and precise.

  ‘Thank you for your attention to detail, and in particular for knowing the exact time of the tragedy,’ said Forbes with an air of approval.

  ‘It’s not easy, detective. Given the choice, I would prefer not to have been a witness. Is there any news on Brigit O’Neill’s condition?’

  ‘Apparently stable, so we hope to interview her in a day or two. Miss Kellett, I have some questions. Did you see any other people in the vicinity of the cliff when the ground collapsed?’

  ‘Not from my window.’

  ‘Does this same room have a window overlooking the caravan park?’

  ‘Yes, but if you’re implying that I saw people in the park, then the answer is no,’ Martha replied.

  ‘Were you home on Friday night?’

  ‘Yes. I sat and watched television for the evening and was in bed by eleven.’

  ‘Do you ever use the gate on your boundary fence adjacent to the cliff and beach area?’ asked Marsh.

  ‘Yes, occasionally, but it’s kept locked when not in use. Why? Is there a problem I should be aware of?’

  ‘No, but it is a means of gaining entry to the cliff side.’

  ‘That may be so, but I use it sometimes if I feel like a walk along the beach, which is in the opposite direction,’ she added dryly.

  ‘Miss Kellett, how well do you know your neighbours?’

  ‘Simon Walters on the far side is a fine, upstanding person. He’s the local pharmacist, you know. As for Sharon and Kevin Scanlan, I find them both reasonably pleasant. They moved here around a year ago and have a daughter living somewhere in town. They tend to keep to themselves most of the time.’

  ‘I see you have a gardener working in the glasshouse. May I take a closer look at your orchids? They’re spectacular at this time of year. My wife has a passion for growing the cymbidium variety,’ said Forbes, using this as an excuse to approach the man handling the bark mixture.

  Martha led the two detectives into the glasshouse.

  ‘Sam Vaccaro is my full-time handyman and gardener, whom I can’t do without. My body is not as young as it used to be, so I leave all the heavy work for him to do.’

  ‘Yes, the garden is well maintained. Mr Vaccaro, I’m told you live on this property,’ said Forbes.

  ‘Yes, in the bungalow at the rear of the house.’

  ‘Did you witness or notice anything unusual regarding yesterday’s incident by the cliff?’

  ‘No, I slept through the whole thing. The two-storey house blocks a lot of noise coming from the other side.’

  ‘And Friday night, did you go out?’

  ‘Only to do some shopping for Martha and I was back here by nine-fifteen. I was in bed by ten o’clock.’

  With that, Forbes concluded, ‘We’ve taken up enough of your time, but please contact me if you remember something.’

  Passing out their cards, the two detectives departed and headed in the direction of Harrison’s Caravan Park.

  ~ * ~

  In room 127 at Pedley Base Hospital, Brigit O’Neill had regained consciousness. Doctor Young was on Sunday duty, giving a nurse some instruction regarding medication while Helen O’Neill sat at a comfortable distance observing the procedures. With a concerned look, her eyes focused on her daughter sitting up in bed with her left arm in a sling and some five pillows strategically placed behind her back for support. Helen’s deep thoughts were suddenly interrupted. She reacted with a slight jump.

  ‘Mrs O’Neill, may I have a word with you outside please,’ said the doctor.

  She followed him into an adjoining room and listened nervously to Brigit’s diagnosis.

  ‘Your daughter regained consciousness last night but her condition is still fragile. She had some internal bleeding, which we now have under control, and there are a number of deep cuts to both legs that have been taken care of. The humerus bone in the upper left arm has been fractured, which explains the overhead support you see above the bed.

  ‘Mrs O’Neill, please be assured that we have both the medical expertise and equipment to deal with this in Pedley, so there’s no need to have her transferred to a city hospital. Given time, Brigit will make a full recovery but she’s still in shock, and learning of Jake Reynolds’ fate has not helped her situation. The best advice I can give at this stage is rest and plenty of it. I anticipate her being in hospital for the next week, primarily for observation and around-the-clock attention. By all means see your daughter now but keep the visit brief and not too much talking.’

  When Helen returned, the nurs
e had just completed transcribing some medical data onto a chart at the end of the bed. Helen chose a visitor’s chair beside Brigit.

  ‘All done. I’ll leave you two alone now,’ said the nurse in a chirpy sort of way.

  Helen turned to her daughter, who looked pale and deteriorated. ‘Brigit, can you hear me?’

  Brigit nodded in response.

  ‘I’ll keep this short. The doctor’s told me you’ll make a full recovery, which is wonderful news. You need plenty of rest, so they’ve decided to keep you here for the week. I’ll call in again tomorrow and bring some fresh clothes and personal things. Take care and do try to get some sleep.’

  Helen O’Neill leaned forward and kissed her daughter on the cheek. She then arose from her chair and left the room. It would not be fair to force conversation.

  ~ * ~

  Forbes and Marsh entered the office of the caravan park and rang the counter bell. They could hear a distant voice and then the sound of approaching footsteps on a wooden floor. Emily entered the office to be confronted by two gentlemen who looked like accountants in their somber, grey-suit attire. With the customary display of police badges Emily immediately knew otherwise.

  Following the introductions, Forbes asked, ‘Mrs Harrison, is your husband in? We need to speak to both of you.’

  ‘Yes, of course. He’s out the back cleaning the shower block. I’ll go and fetch him.’

  With four people now gathered in the office, the detectives commenced their briefing.

  ‘The death of Jake Reynolds is being treated as a murder investigation,’ Forbes began, ‘with Senior Sergeant Whittaker and his men assisting us in the case. We’ve been given the responsibility of bringing the guilty party to justice. It’s unfortunate the crime scene took place on your property, which means the bulk of our initial enquiries will focus on this immediate area. I therefore ask for your full support and indeed your perseverance during this time. We will endeavor to carry out our investigations with a minimum of disruption to your business. Firstly, would you both give me a rundown on your movements from Friday night through to Saturday morning.’

  ‘We spent Friday evening here at the park,’ I began. ‘My outdoor work was finished around six and I drove downtown to purchase some washers from the plumbing store. I came back for dinner about six-thirty. Afterwards I fixed the leaks in the shower block and then did some reading while Emily did some office work. We were both in bed by ten. The next morning I was awakened by Sergeant Burke ringing the front door bell at eight o’clock.’

  ‘Speaking of which, Burke informed us you are Brigit O’Neill’s uncle,’ Forbes probed.

  ‘That is correct.’

  And Mrs Harrison, please retrace your steps yesterday morning.’

  ‘I was up at seven, showered and then made myself breakfast. At around seven-thirty there was a bit of commotion outside so I left the kitchen to see what was happening. I noticed some people had gathered by the cliffside and then I heard the sound of an approaching ambulance. At this point I met up with Martha Kellett, our neighbour, who told me about the tragedy.’

  ‘We need details on the tenants who resided here Friday night. They’ll be interviewed shortly so please put together a list to assist us,’ instructed the detective.

  I reached for the book and proceeded to write. ‘Being winter, there won’t be many names,’ I said. ‘Most folk can’t handle the cold weather in these parts. Business tends to peak during the warmer months due to Sapphire Bay.’

  I handed the completed list to Forbes.

  ~ * ~

  ‘Not many tenants,’ he responded. ‘Could you briefly describe these people for us, Mr Harrison?’

  I described each individual, but with more emphasis on Ruth Evans and Kurt Muller. Perhaps there was a need to forewarn the detectives about these two for varying reasons.

  ‘Tell me, do you hire a security firm to patrol these premises?’ asked Forbes.

  ‘No, it’s not necessary. We seldom have trouble.’

  ‘I believe we’ve covered enough ground for the moment. Mr Harrison, would you please accompany us to these site numbers.’

  ‘Certainly, but I have one question. Do you have any leads at this early stage?’

  ‘There is the likelihood that a local drug syndicate is responsible. Jake Reynolds’ fate was possibly decided as a result of witnessing the parkland murder on Thursday night. I cannot elaborate any further at this stage,’ responded Forbes.

  I purposely stood in the background while the two detectives conducted their interviews and stepped forward only when called upon. Predictably, most tenants offered their full cooperation, and contrary to my earlier thoughts, the residents felt reassured in having the police on site. As I expected, Kurt Muller was rude, impatient and simply had no time for the law. He had the audacity to demand the case be resolved within three days, to enable life at the park to return to its former tranquil state.

  ‘As I’ve already told you,’ grumbled Kurt, ‘I spent some time at the Esplanade Pub and around eleven I went for a walk by the beach. In the morning the noise from all the commotion woke me up, so how in the hell can I help you?’

  ‘Steady on, were only conducting our preliminaries,’ responded Marsh, clearly annoyed at Muller’s aggression. ‘We’re not insinuating anything, just simply interviewing people who live in the vicinity of the crime scene at this stage,’

  ‘Like I said, it’s probably some local connection, so why don’t you start interrogating some of those people and make your arrest!’ Kurt stated unrealistically.

  ‘I wish it were that easy.’

  ‘If that’s enough for today then I’ll be on my way.’

  ‘Yes, that will do for now,’ concluded Forbes as the uncooperative Kurt Muller left.

  The detective watched him disappear around the corner. ‘Unpleasant chap,’ he said.

  By contrast, Ruth Evans was in her element, giving the impression the other tenants’ testimonies were irrelevant and only her observation gave the true and accurate diagnosis. It was almost comical, the way she manipulated the conversation, rarely allowing the detectives the opportunity to raise a point. She thoroughly dictated the whole affair. I could see from the expression on Forbes’ face that he had finally met his match.

  ‘Thank you for your time, Mrs Evans,’ Forbes said, ‘and yes, you will be on record for having watched television on Friday night and alerting some of your fellow tenants about the tragedy.’

  Ruth was actually beaming as she watched the men leave the caravan park.

  ~ * ~

  ‘She’s impossible!’ Forbes said to Marsh in the car. ‘It’s as if her mouth is connected to a nine-volt battery, it just doesn’t stop. Imagine being married to that woman!’

  ‘I dread the thought. You’d need earmuffs to survive,’ said Marsh, amused that someone had got the better of his superior.

  ~ * ~

  It was late Monday morning when they knocked on the front door of Helen O’Neill’s house. A woman in her late forties, of slender build and wearing an abundance of white-gold jewellery greeted them with a courteous smile and gestured for them to enter. Ushered through to the living room, Forbes then explained the case in some length, receiving Helen’s undivided attention.

  ‘So that’s where we stand at the moment. It’s unfortunate you have to be dragged into this nasty business, particularly with your daughter lying in hospital,’ said Forbes sympathetically.

  ‘Detective Forbes, I appreciate your concern but you need to know some facts, and besides, you’ll hear about it sooner or later so I might as well be the one to tell you. Firstly, I am Brigit’s stepmother. Her natural mother, Susan, died of a drug overdose and was a heavy drinker. She was what you might term an alcoholic beauty. Unfortunately Brigit was only twelve when this happened. Sometime later I married her natural father, David, who died of cancer in the third year of our marriage. He ran a successful export business and Brigit was raised by a live-in domestic. She was a very spoilt
child during those years. Her father travelled overseas often and had spent very little time with her so, probably suffering from a guilt complex, he compensated with material gifts. In time Brigit had become what you might term a privileged good girl. She got into the wrong crowd, primarily through parental neglect and lack of proper family life. This was one of the main reasons why David O’Neill pleaded with me to marry him. Although he was becoming desperately ill, he wanted to secure a good mother for his little girl. I did love him, but I also knew I would be left a young widow. What has been difficult is that I thought Brigit needed me, which she does, but she’s resented me from the beginning. I had hoped time would sort out our differences, but nothing has changed, for she still accuses me of marrying her father for money,’ said Helen sadly.