by Ray Smithies
‘We have it on record that a drug dealer called Charlie spoke with Ferret on a number of occasions and often in front of these premises when he worked back. Were you aware of these meetings, Mr Bradbury?’
‘Yes. I had need to remind Ferret on two occasions that his discussions were becoming too long.’
‘But that doesn’t make sense. Most employers wouldn’t tolerate this sort of behaviour.’
‘I can understand your logic, detective, but let me explain. Ferret often started work half an hour before he had to. He was never paid for this additional time, so I decided to turn a blind eye to his discussions on the condition that his allocated workload would be completed. Like I said before, a bit of give and take.’
‘Do you know this Charlie character he often spoke to?’
‘I know of him.’
‘Yes, that coincides with our records,’ acknowledged Carpenter.
‘It does?’ Bradbury replied in a startled tone.
‘What about a person called Brad Morgan?’ Doyle was deliberately testing the warehouse manager’s reaction.
‘No, I’m not aware of this one,’ Bradbury responded unconvincingly and added, ‘Who is this Morgan?’
‘No one of consequence for you to worry about,’ Doyle replied.
‘I can’t accept that. You ask me a question and you’re not prepared to elaborate.’ Bradbury wanted to emphasise the point that Morgan was unknown to him.
‘Very well. Morgan is on our most-wanted list for his involvement in murder and unscrupulous drug connections.’
‘Thank you, but Morgan has no connection with this business,’ responded Bradbury with a fair degree of truth.
‘Tell me, Mr Bradbury, who owns Broadbent’s and who do you report to?’ asked Doyle.
‘A city consortium by the name of Barclays Incorporated. I report to Malcolm Chandler, their financial director.’ Bradbury had anticipated this question. He wasn’t overly concerned in volunteering this information. It was factual, and there was no direct link with Victor Marlow. Scorpio had cleverly arranged and concealed its business assets with the hierarchy in mind.
Doyle decided to avoid any discussion surrounding Danny Murdock. He felt tempted to draw Bradbury into why he questioned Danny the night Charlie discussed syndicate matters with Ferret, but decided this was best left alone. It was in the lad’s best interests to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to him. Besides, Danny had proven to be a useful contact so there was no point in placing the asset at risk.
Doyle intensified his line of questioning. ‘Do you keep illegal goods on these premises, specifically drugs of some description?’
‘No. We’ve been through all this before,’ stated Bradbury, trying to keep his cool.
‘Then why does our source insist on this being the place?’
‘Like I said on your previous visit, it’s a case of mistaken identity. Your source has confused us with someone else, and besides, where in the hell could we hide something like that?’
‘And that’s exactly what we need to find out, Mr Bradbury.’
‘What about a bit of respect, given Ferret’s death and how it’s affected everyone here,’ the warehouse manager remonstrated.
Doyle decided to change the subject. ‘We need to take a further look around the premises.’
‘What, now? You’ve already been through with a search warrant.’ Bradbury was both surprised and annoyed with this persistence.
‘Do you have something to hide, Mr Bradbury?’
‘Certainly not! I’m a busy man and time away from the office could mean loss of sales.’
‘No need for you to accompany us this time. We’ll look around ourselves, thank you.’
The two men split up. Doyle decided on a ground-level search, since their previous evaluation may have been a bit premature in declaring the area all clear. Carpenter would concentrate on the two cellars, taking particular care this time to study both the staircases and their respective walls. Would this search finally unearth some alleged drug storage their source was so adamant about?
Carpenter’s analysis of the steep cellar stairways was a tedious exercise. The same well-worn stones had consistently been used throughout both paths. There seemed to be no changes in colour or structure. No tampering was evident and he concluded that all the original rock remained intact.
Similarly, the use of bluestone for the descending walls was consistent with that in the cellars. One notable difference, however, was the use of mortar in its varying shades of dirty cream and grey. Due to deterioration and subsequent restoration through the decades, the filler had been applied at various intervals in an attempt to maintain a solid wall. This was particularly noticeable beside the rear staircase leading to the archived cellar. The mortar used on this wall was crudely applied and had in some places crumbled away over time, leaving the occasional small gaping hole. The sergeant could only surmise the rear end of these premises bred neglect through lack of use.
He stared at the stone partition and began to think of the various possibilities. If Broadbent was found to be in possession of drugs, could they be concealed behind a bluestone wall? This seemed a bit hard to comprehend, but if true, there would be a need for an entrance. But where? They had searched the premises before without uncovering anything remotely close. Besides, this wall backed onto the descending path to serve the front cellar. It was a mirror image of where he stood. Carpenter decided to take a closer look at the crevices, but in order to carry out his inspection he needed a long thin object to push through one of the holes.
Carpenter descended the staircase and searched through the collection of storage. A knitting needle sat on an old Singer sewing machine. Perhaps a bit short, he thought, but better than nothing. A fire poker lay in one corner, but he ruled it unsuitable due to its large, protruding end hook. What else? Looking at a dilapidated cabinet which stood beside the far wall, he saw the handle of a wire coathanger balancing on a protruding door. He decided on the hanger as his pick from a poor lot of options.
He untwirled the tightly wound wire and straightened it, then returned to the section of wall where the crevices lay in wait for further examination. Crouching forward, he peered into a couple of the larger holes but saw only darkness. He placed the straightened wire into the first crevice. It suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Despite his constant jabbing, he couldn’t push it further than about ten centimetres. Inserting his makeshift tool into a second crevice resulted in only half the length of wire being able to penetrate. Another dead end.
He continued to poke away at the immediate selection of crevices. The ageing mortar crumbled in places with the unrelenting punishment. And then the full length of wire finally penetrated the wall without obstruction. Carpenter had threaded the wire to its maximum length and through to the other side of the bluestone. His immediate thought was to inspect the stairway wall leading to the front cellar. He assumed the wire would be visible, but when he descended to approximately the same depth he could not find any protruding wire. Although less noticeable, the front stairway barrier still boasted a number of crevices in need of repair. The ageing mortar appeared to be in the same vicinity as its counterpart, but the wire was conspicuously absent. That’s odd, thought Carpenter. Where in hell was the damn thing?
Returning to the rear basement steps, he decided to measure the depth of the immediate bluestone. Retrieving the full length of wire, he created a small right-angled hook in order to grab at the far end of the stone. He inserted the wire to its maximum length and then commenced to withdraw it. In what was only a short distance the hook suddenly secured itself.
Looking down at the length of wire before him, he could see that only around ten centimetres remained visible. His experiment had worked: the bluestone that lay before him was a hefty forty-centimetre block. But how far did this open space project? There was little distance between the two descending paths, or so he thought. He could only surmise that two parallel bluestone walls existed in close proxi
mity.
This rather fundamental test had reminded Carpenter of the prisons built many years ago, where maximum-security bluestone barriers were sometimes erected with a ten to twenty centimetre gap between parallel walls. Someone had once told him they were built this way to counteract general earth movement. He thought his discovery to be along similar lines and wasn’t some major breakthrough to assist the case, but he decided at the last moment to mark the appropriate blue-stone should there be a need to return. Unbeknown to Carpenter, he was within forty centimetres of revealing one of three entrances to the subterranean passageways.
~ * ~
Doyle’s search was equally tedious. He had already checked the cool-room and the area above and below the mezzanine floor meticulously. There was no evidence to suggest foul play. The whole place was impeccably tidy, with all produce clearly labelled and stored accordingly. Apart from a covered rear courtyard, which appeared to be all in order, only the kitchen and toilet block remained to complete the investigation.
He entered the kitchen-cum-games area, a room of generous size that provided a few luxuries for the employees during breaks. A large, Laminex-topped table with seating to accommodate eight persons sat squarely to one end. Cooking facilities, including a microwave oven and refrigerator, stood near the entry and a pub-sized pool table and dartboard was positioned at the far end. A series of cupboards and a few drawers completed the room. Looking around, he couldn’t contemplate anyone being silly enough to store illegal goods in such a public domain. Following a routine check he declared the room clean.
Doyle proceeded to the toilet block entrance. A small change-room positioned right side was a fairly basic affair. It comprised a central seating bench and a dozen freestanding upright lockers beside the far wall. He would call on Neville Bradbury to have these inspected in due course. To the left side of the entrance, an independent toilet cubicle and washbasin stood remote from the rest, presumably for female use. In the men’s toilets, three large cubicles ran in sequence along one side. A stainless steel urinal was positioned at the far end and two washbasins were conveniently located directly opposite the cubicles. A hand dryer, wall mirror and rubbish bin completed the decor of the room.
As he stood with hands on hips casting an eye around the toilet block and contemplating what to do next, he was startled by the sudden presence of Neville Bradbury. The warehouse manager appeared agitated and was clearly uncomfortable with Doyle’s persistence in leaving no stone unturned.
‘Will this take much longer?’ he enquired.
‘Maybe. I’ll decide when our search is completed and only when I’m satisfied you’re not hiding something.’
‘Detective Doyle, please understand it’s not good for business for customers to see the constabulary looking into every conceivable thing on the premises.’
‘Too bad. It’s a case of suffering the consequences for arousing suspicion,’ returned the detective arrogantly.
‘That’s a bit uncalled for. I’m only implying this would’ve been best conducted after hours, away from the prying public.’
Ignoring the manager’s pleas, Doyle opened the door to the central cubicle and was taken aback by its sheer size. ‘Why so big?’
‘They were like that when Broadbent bought the place around eight years ago.’
Bradbury was now on edge, with the detective so close to the best-kept secret in Pedley. He could only hope Doyle’s powers of observation were negligent.
‘Doesn’t make sense,’ Doyle said walking into the cubicle. ‘Are the other two the same?’
‘Identical.’
‘Let me take a look,’ insisted Doyle.
The first cubicle displayed an occupied sign, forcing the men to inspect the end convenience. Bradbury’s moment of truth was about to be tested. His anxiety level had heightened and a hint of perspiration was evident around the forehead. Doyle saw the vacant indicator and pushed the door to one side. Bradbury prayed the room would not reveal any telltale signs. The cubicle appeared to be in order except for one noticeable feature - the toilet bowl was on a slight lean. Whoever had used the cubicle last had made a careless exit. Bradbury was nearly beside himself with tension. He realised with relief that the floor appeared secure and flush up against the surrounding walls.
‘Same as the middle cubicle,’ remarked Doyle, looking at the manager. ‘Are you all right? You seem a bit flustered.’
‘Its nothing. I get this way when I’m gone from the office for a bit.’
‘Everything seems in order, except for one thing,’ said Doyle, thinking the manager ought to get a grip of himself and not allow trivial matters to control his emotions.
‘Oh, and what might that be?’ Bradbury dreaded hearing the detective’s observation.
‘The toilet bowl’s on a lean. Better get a plumber to correct that tilt before it becomes a major problem,’ he suggested, oblivious to the underlying reason.
Like Carpenter, Doyle had also come miraculously close to exposing the well-guarded secret. Today the gods were truly smiling on Broad-bent.
~ * ~
Marsh and Burke had just parked their car in front of 23 Anderson Street. They were walking towards the front door when Hassan appeared from the side of the house. Not surprised by their visit, he indicated to the two men that discussions would be more appropriate in the backyard and out of sight of passing traffic. Burke thought it unnecessary, given the police vehicle on display.
‘So what brings you around here?’ asked Hassan.
‘We need your help, Hassan,’ commenced the detective and then added, ‘How are you coping?’
‘It’s tough going, detective. I still expect Ferret to come walking around the corner. Anyway, how can I help you?’
‘We need to track down the drug dealer called Charlie. We need to establish where this guy hangs out and his likely haunts where drug deals are made.’
‘Detective, after what these bastards did to Ferret I’ll gladly help out. For starters Charlie always operates in the dark. This guy’s a night owl so forget about any search for him during the day. He just disappears off the face of the planet in daylight hours.’
‘Okay, but where can he be found?’
‘This is in strict confidence ‘cause I don’t want to be the next one they knock off. I only know of four places. There’s Pitt Street a block down from the Esplanade, but he’s not there very often because the crowds seem to scare him away. I’ve seen him in the park when he’s done a deal with Ferret. Someone told me he likes this area because there are plenty of places to hide. Um ... he goes down to the beach from time to time at the end of Pitt Street when it suits him, but that’s usually in summer. The other spot is the car park in Williams Street near the showgrounds entrance. This one and the park are the two likely places. There may be more, but I’m not aware of them.’
‘Thank you, Hassan. What can you tell us about Brad Morgan?’ asked Burke.
‘I know of him and I’ve only seen him once with Charlie when they were talking to Ferret outside Broadbent’s. A bit of a nutcase, that one.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘He was screaming at Ferret over something.’
‘What about?’
‘It had something to do with more sales. Ferret took it pretty hard because he earned big bucks for these guys and didn’t deserve that sort of treatment. This Morgan guy hasn’t been round for long but he seems to make all the rules. Charlie just seems to follow his orders.’
‘For your information, Hassan, Brad Morgan is a psychopath who, together with Charlie, was responsible for both the boat and Pedley Hill tragedies. It would be in your best interests to stay clear of these two, particularly Morgan. The guy has a history of violence and won’t hesitate to inflict further injury if given half the chance.’
‘No shit, but it doesn’t surprise me to hear that. I always thought those two were capable of worse crimes,’ declared Hassan.
‘We certainly don’t endorse your involve
ment,’ said Marsh, ‘but should you happen to see either of these men it’s important that you contact the station immediately. If you have the numbers, then hold him until the police arrive. Understand?’
‘Sure.’
‘We can only warn you and the rest is up to you, but try to stay away from the drug scene for your own sake. We believe there maybe trouble brewing with the presence of a second syndicate. They’ll most likely seek revenge against Scorpio, so we may have further bloodshed to contend with. To walk away from it all is the best and most sensible thing to do.’
‘Getting back to Charlie’s haunts, how would you guys recognise him? You’ve never seen the man, so how could you single him out?’ Hassan queried.
Burke said, ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I was aboard the Molly Bloom and have a rough description of the man.’
‘And don’t dismiss Morgan, because I’ve seen this guy at the Esplanade Hotel,’ added Marsh.