by Ray Smithies
The car came to a halt directly in front of the van we lay under. Following an uncomfortable silence the car doors opened and out stepped two people who stood motionless for what seemed eternity. The driver remained in the car. In the silence I could envisage the communication above being carried out by sign language. Finally and without warning the two men parted and went their separate ways. One set of legs proceeded towards block sites D and E, with the other walking directly toward the van we lay beneath. The latter stopped as if to listen for any immediate sound and then threw a cigarette to the ground, which landed under the cuff of my trousers. Would the dampness of the ground extinguish it or was there sufficient heat to make the material smoulder? I daren’t move for fear of making a sound; my leg was only a short distance from the edge of the van.
The lone figure lit a further cigarette and continued to stand in the one spot only a body’s length away. Then the unavoidable happened. A faint smell began spreading its stench beneath the van, but I hoped that as long as the fumes were confined below the van we would not be discovered.
I could feel the women’s mounting tension. The three of us lay motionless while the odor became more intense and I wondered how much longer we could remain undetected. This was certainly no time for sneezes or coughs. With the flick of a second butt to the ground, the stranger started walking toward B8, the van we had just come from.
Following the night stalker’s departure, I immediately reached for my trouser leg to suppress the fumes. I applied a thick coat of damp soil to the cuff, being careful not to make any noise, given there was still a third person waiting in the nearby car.
Now loitering in the vicinity of B8, the stranger observed for a while and then inspected the site at some length. Then he examined the neighbouring B6. The stranger now turned and headed toward the lights of C3, residence of Ruth Evans and possibly the visiting Marge Samson. He stood beside Ruth’s van for some time, perhaps trying to identify a voice, for if the two women were inside it set the scene for a potential case of mistaken identity. Whatever the attraction, the man seemed intrigued by the behaviour within.
He returned to his accomplice, who was now waiting for him beside the car. The legs of the two men had now come back into view and I could hear a distant discussion, but it was impossible to make any sense of it. They were too far away. Both men then entered the car, which was gone in a matter of seconds.
We waited for around two minutes and then, confident that no unidentified person had remained behind, we crawled out from under the van and continued toward C7. Brigit stood on a twig and snapped it in half, sending Helen into immediate fright. Everyone was nervous and the stillness of the night emphasised the unexpected sound. I quickly unlocked the door. Once we were inside I drew the curtains behind us, then whispered some instructions.
‘That was a close call,’ I said, ‘so just remember the following important rules. No showers or anything else that might attract noise and above all, definitely no lights.’
‘Tom, I’ve decided to return home tomorrow morning because I can’t continue this way much longer,’ said Helen.
‘Okay, but its too risky for Brigit to go with you at the moment.’
‘That I agree with.’
‘I can’t take much more of this either,’ said Brigit.
‘I’ll drop you off home in the morning, Helen. Brigit and I will pay Forbes a visit. Then we’ll see what can be done about a more secure arrangement.’
‘Good, that’s settled,’ said Helen. ‘I’ll catch up with Forbes in the afternoon. No doubt that imbecile will want a word or two with me as well.’
‘Let’s call it a night because we’re all in need of some sleep. I’ll see you both early tomorrow morning and remember, you have my mobile number if you need me.’
Concerned that Emily had been left alone, I immediately returned to inform her of tonight’s ordeal. Over a late night cup of tea she listened intently.
‘Brave girl, is young Brigit. Sharing this experience with Helen should strengthen the bond between these two, don’t you think?’ I said.
‘Probably, and I can’t help but agree with Helen’s earlier comment that the time has come to let the police know what’s going on.’
‘We’ve just discussed that and I’ll be seeing Forbes tomorrow. I’ll be requesting that full protection be provided.’
‘Good. I’m glad to hear you’ve finally come to your senses, Tom.’
~ * ~
Later that same night a car drove slowly through the entrance gates of the caravan park. At two-thirty in the morning the night was extremely cold and a thick blanket of fog had engulfed all before it. The headlights were useless in the pea soup. Slowly crunching away on the gravel surface, the car finally came to a stop on the road that separated blocks C and D. Two men emerged, walked across to B8 and off-loaded their gear onto the verandah adjacent to the site entrance.
A tool similar to that of a small crowbar appeared from a bag and was wedged against the door lock. With a quick jerk of the device the lock was instantly broken and the door slid quietly open on its runner. The two figures cautiously entered the annex and surveyed the area. Satisfied the women were not in the room, they climbed the two steps into the van. Again not a soul stirred. In their attempt to find Brigit, they opened every conceivable door and checked every nook and cranny within the van. Their source had been adamant the women were here but the search was in vain. Incensed that the well-planned assault had failed, they let fly in a display of bitter rage.
Unbeknown to the remainder of the park’s residents, their sinister work was unfinished. They had failed in their attempt to locate Brigit and Helen, but there was someone else in the park they were determined to find. The previous day, on her way to Marge Sampson’s house, Ruth Evans had unknowingly witnessed Bradbury and Sol in the presence of their regional head discussing syndicate matters. An order from the highest authority had been to ‘eliminate’ so there would be nothing linking the drug lord with either the Broadbent manager or the dealer.
Unfortunately for Ruth, her morning walk through the town gardens had decided her fate. She had wandered off the main walkway in search of a water fountain she remembered near a toilet block. She had unintentionally come within earshot of the syndicate’s conversation and if she had been focused could easily have caught the gist of their discussion. As it was she heard nothing, but when the trio saw her they assumed she had overheard them. The regional head had referred to the incident as ‘the frowns of fortune’. If Ruth Evans had become privy to highly classified information, the risk was apparent. To ignore this could be their undoing.
Although Ruth was aware of the regional head’s identity within society, she did not know this person’s link with the underworld. And there had been no direct eye contact between the men and Ruth, despite the close proximity and sparse camouflage of ti-tree.
The men had come to the park to eliminate Ruth. Although as the local gossip she was not a popular person, the events that were about to unfold could only be described as disturbing and malicious in the extreme. Upon arriving at site C3, one of the men reached into his pocket and produced something resembling a large hairpin. While his accomplice shone a small pencil torch toward the door lock and with their presence still concealed by a thick blanket of fog, the first man inserted the pin. Following a few probes and turns of the device the latch was released, allowing the annex door to open. A quiet entry was mandatory since they needed the element of surprise. One scream would not be tolerated.
They cautiously surveyed the darkened room but there was no evidence of Ruth sleeping in the annex. To avoid any unnecessary noise they turned on the torch to illuminate their passageway to the next level. As they boarded the caravan the steps creaked in the still of the night, producing a sound that would stir the dead. Both men froze.
They heard Ruth rearranging her sleeping position and crept closer to claim their prize. Face up and in a deep sleep, Ruth now emitted a light snore and w
histling mixture that seem to grow stronger with each intake of the lungs. Hovering directly beside her bed, they were now ready for the kill. With meticulous precision a hand was lowered to cover her entire mouth, causing her to immediately wake. It took a short moment for her to comprehend her dilemma, her eyes now bulging in terrified awareness.
Muttering a series of threats and making reference to his regional boss, the assailant taunted and played with his victim in excitable anticipation of his evil act.
‘This is for your interference!’ he snarled, thrusting the knife deep into her breast.
The blade delivered excruciating pain into Ruth’s tense body. The second attacker had difficulty in restraining her desperate struggles as a second, then third lunge was delivered to her torso, narrowly missing the vital organs. Blood saturated her nightie and sheets as the men carried out their frenzied and malicious assault. She lacked the strength to cope with this onslaught as the final downward thrust pierced her abdomen. Her struggle appeared to be at an end and the two men made their hasty retreat.
Now alone and left in this horrendous state, Ruth was barely alive as she slid from the bed onto the caravan floor. Trying to control the flow of blood was useless, for the multiple stab wounds were too numerous. Her body screamed with unthinkable pain. In her final moment Ruth ran her finger across one of the deep wounds and on the vinyl floor started to write a message in her own blood. Unfortunately she could not complete the inscription before she died.
~ * ~
E
arly next morning en route to C7, where Brigit and Helen had spent the previous night, I wandered past B8 more out of habit than deliberation and immediately noticed the sliding annex door slightly ajar. Upon closer inspection it was clear the site had been broken into last night. The place was a mess, with various furniture pieces in disarray and bed linen from the van’s wardrobe spread across the floor.
The signs were blatantly obvious that the syndicate had been informed of the women’s whereabouts or else someone had betrayed my confidence. I dismissed this latter idea since only Emily and James Slattery knew where they were. It was certainly not Em, and while I had my suspicions of James I did not believe he would do something of this magnitude. Were Brigit and Helen still safe from these fiends? I immediately made my way toward site C7.
Just prior to my arrival I heard an ear-piercing scream coming from Ruth Evans’ van. What now? I thought. Is this to be my day of unrelenting surprises? Knowing Ruth, she’d probably just seen a mouse or two. But the screaming continued with such intensity that I decided to investigate.
Marge Samson was sitting on Ruth’s verandah, whimpering. She appeared to be in shock, just staring at the ground. She didn’t acknowledge my arrival. I knew something was dreadfully wrong.
I climbed the two steps and the fate of Ruth Evans lay before me. It was the most horrific sight I had ever seen. Looking down upon poor Ruth in disbelief, I was astonished at the extent of this malicious attack. The bloodstained body and bed made me light-headed. I felt like vomiting at any moment. My eye caught something on the floor beside her body. I knelt down to take a closer look and saw that Ruth had attempted some crude lettering as she lay there dying. How clever of her, I thought. Never one to miss an opportunity. A clue, perhaps, to the identity of her murderer. I studied the blood-inscribed letters that were irregularly spaced on the floor.
PIEDP II
What was she trying to tell us? This made no sense. There was no such word, unless it was meant to be broken down or was incomplete. But it had to wait for now as I had to check on Helen and Brigit.
Sitting on the verandah, Marge was still in her own world, so rather than console the poor woman I thought it best to leave her alone for the moment. I would fetch Emily to comfort her shortly, but my priority was with Helen and Brigit.
I called out while knocking on the door of C7 and to my relief I saw Brigit approach.
‘Thank goodness you’re safe,’ I said.
‘Tom, you look pale and troubled. What’s wrong?’ asked Brigit, looking a bit worse for wear following two days of confined space.
I briefly explained what had happened to Ruth and that their previous site was broken into last night. The women were clearly upset at Ruth’s fate, wondering when their turn would come to face the enemy again.
‘Helen, we’ll take a trip to the police station shortly, as this park is no longer a safe haven to hide Brigit. We have an informant in our midst, but it’s purely speculation as to who this might be. We can’t start pointing the finger at anyone until some evidence comes to hand.’
‘An informant? Surely not!’ said Helen.
‘Afraid so. How else would they know of your whereabouts?’
‘You take Brigit to the police station, Tom, but drop me at home on your way through. I’ll visit Forbes this afternoon.’
‘Very well, but do you think that’s wise?’
‘I should be okay in broad daylight.’
We cautiously made our way to the park’s residence, entering via the rear laundry door. I was certain no one saw our movements. Poor Emily incurred the full serve of bad news. I instructed her to phone the police regarding this morning’s discovery and we would now proceed to the police station before the park became inundated with authorities and curiosity-seekers alike. With some reluctance she passed me the keys to her Passat when I told her that my old beat-up Ford was still undergoing repairs. I then asked if she could attend to Marge Samson sitting outside C3.
I had dropped Helen off when I caught the reflection of an advancing 4WD in the rear vision mirror. The sheer speed of the vehicle in a built-up area took me by surprise as it roared past. Brigit flinched on seeing the Toyota Land Cruiser rush by - it looked remarkably similar to the one that had trailed us on that fateful night. The 4WD progressed some two blocks ahead and came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road. I slowed down considerably upon seeing two men emerge from their vehicle and throw what appeared to be a handful of tacks or nails on the bitumen.
Fortunately an intersection presented a timely detour to avoid this confrontation. I took a right-hand turn and suddenly realised the police station was in the opposite direction. Before we swept around the corner I caught a glimpse of the two men boarding their vehicle and I knew this was only a temporary reprieve before they recommenced their pursuit. The side road provided a narrow and winding route, offering limited opportunity for two-way traffic.
Brigit began panicking and reached for her mobile to dial 000. She reiterated the usual routine - the chase, the 4WD and its occupants, the drug syndicate, the location - but this time with details about the VW Passat. She was informed that a unit would be sent to the scene immediately.
I saw a distant car parked at an angle across the road, effectively blocking all oncoming traffic. Had this vehicle broken down or did the 4WD have an accomplice to corner us in? More bloody decisions to make in determining what had to be done to rid this lot. A further side road beckoned as the car wheels caught the upright gutter with my increased speed. Where to? I thought. The police station was now out of the question, given the 4WD would be coming from that general direction and there was still the uncertain intent of the second vehicle. Would it be possible to reach the caravan park before they pounced again? I floored the pedal to return home, not realising the syndicate had already anticipated my chosen route.
The 4WD came into view, travelling along a parallel road separated only by an avenue of trees. It was closer to the caravan park so I would have to divert into a side road up ahead if we were to arrive first at the park. An impossible task, so my priority now was to focus on escape. The trees had now given way to an industrial estate and the two roads were hidden from each other. This gave me the opportunity to divert in a different direction and take a side street I knew that led to a country roadway. We couldn’t rely upon the police; God knows where their unit was sent. Again they were conspicuous by their absence and I could only conclude their customary delay
was part and parcel of the service.
We travelled along this thoroughfare for several minutes. With no further sighting of the 4WD I had an idea to run past Brigit.
‘We appear to have shaken off these bastards. I believe it’s too risky to reconsider the police station or the caravan park in case they’re laying in wait. Brigit, I have a very trustworthy friend, Hamish O’Connor, who has a cabin up in the hills near Ashworth. It’s isolated in a beautiful and peaceful part of the country some two hours’ drive from Pedley. I think that sort of environment will do you the world of good for a couple of days or so.’
‘Sounds fine and just the place to convalesce for a bit. I need to get away from all this bloody harassment.’