by Ray Smithies
The passageway’s restrictive width seemed to intensify the power of the water. With unrelenting repetition, it swirled and leapt off the blue-stone walls engulfing all before it. The deluge assault was now directed from all fronts and breathing had suddenly become an arduous task.
Then disaster struck. The current threw Gallagher and Marsh forward, causing both men to fall beneath the murky waters. Their helmets lights were immediately extinguished. Near darkness coupled with an unrelenting torrent would make for a near-impossible rescue. Forbes roared at his two remaining detectives to commence searching. Unfortunately the four SOG troopers were bringing up the rear behind the Piedpiper and some ten metres away from the drama. Distance ruled out any possible assistance. I quickly joined the remaining three detectives, desperate to find their submerged colleagues. Lack of light was proving to be the major hindrance, as I blindly guided both arms through the water in search of a body.
Thirty seconds had transpired and still no sign of either policemen. Forbes’ screams above the soaring waters had little impact. His normally aggravating tongue was but a mere whisper. Momentarily forgetting the Piedpiper’s esteemed presence, the desperate search continued for the two men. The four of us prodded away into the obscure floodway. Relentless in our pursuit the task was proving futile. There was simply no detection of either officer.
Thinking the situation now hovered on life or death over the next thirty seconds, the sudden emergence of Paul Marsh ascending upright from the flood was an enormous relief. Some five metres ahead he commenced a coughing fit, undoubtedly trying to discharge the sheer amount of water intake. Forbes immediately went to his side while we continued our search for Gallagher.
The situation was both grave and desperate. Gallagher had now been submerged for a minute and a half. Logic told me his lungs would collapse at any moment if they hadn’t already. It was rare for individuals to maintain the distance beyond two to three minutes. If only there was some indication as to where his body had progressed. Still we prodded into the rapid waters anxious for the detective’s whereabouts, but our perseverance continued to offer nothing in return. He had simply vanished and undoubtedly was at the mercy of the strong current. It was now reasonable to assume the detective had been swept some length down the main corridor. As to the likely distance, well that was anybody’s guess.
The deluge continued to gather momentum, intensified by the narrow winding passageway that seemed to swirl the approaching violent flow. It was a frightening situation that commanded caution and the ability to remain upright against impossible odds. Gallagher had now been missing for nearly four minutes and the inevitable appeared the probable outcome. With near exhaustion imminent, the frantic search had slackened to a moderate pace. We had to accept that Peter Gallagher was destined for the bowels beneath Pedley. Any chance of rescue now seemed but a distant possibility, for a limited time frame had finally become the impregnable obstacle.
The reality of the situation was too much for Alan Forbes to bear. He let out a cry of anguish and frustration.
My concentration briefly focused back to Paul Marsh. He stood leaning behind the convenience of Forbes’ bulky frame, undoubtedly to provide a limited shield from the unrelenting surge. The young detective appeared to have overcome the odds. Fitness was most likely his saving grace.
The small entourage continued to struggle toward the level two staircase. Regretfully their colleague would have to be left behind to the mercy of the floods. The elapsed time had now overruled any further search. Besides, Forbes had to now consider the safe return of his remaining subordinates. It had also left a bitter taste and god help the Piedpiper if they ever reached the surface. Now chest high in cold water, the unrelenting rapids maintained its punishing onslaught. I wondered how far this elusive staircase could be, for at this rate it would only be a matter of time before these rapids claimed its next victim.
As if on cue, the Piedpiper lost balance and was quickly lost beneath the raging water. Forbes nearly had a coronary not wanting to lose his most prized scalp. Screaming at his two detectives, he instructed the men to recover the hooded felon from the watercourse’s grasp. Doyle and Parnell were both close to the incident. The four trailing SOG troopers quickly pushed forward, their bodies swaying in tempo against the current. Frantically they began searching for their nemesis. Logic implied the person would be swept forward given the raging flow, but hopefully not to the extent of Gallagher’s dilemma.
Thirty seconds had passed when suddenly Parnell’s helmet light detected the Piedpiper’s head as he struggled to stay upright against the current. The felon’s brief appearance had once again descended beneath. Forbes screamed to his men to form a human chain across the passageway to prevent the criminal from plunging downstream. The SOG unit was still making up headway. Their trailing attempts and ultimate assistance would be in vain. Forbes’ help could only be drawn from the immediate vicinity. I surged across to bridge the gap that Doyle and Parnell couldn’t quite fulfill. Forbes and Marsh stood behind, effectively creating a second barrier.
The frame of the Piedpiper suddenly broke the surface. Like a soaring periscope the man reappeared almost vertically. It was a remarkable sight, similar to that of an air-filled tyre breaking free from the water’s stranglehold. His arms and legs became entangled with Doyle’s rigid stance. An obvious lack of balance and short-term confusion was apparent. With assistance from Parnell the man was quickly brought to an upright position. Forbes heaved a sigh of relief, not out of elation, but rather, that he was still alive to face his just deserts. The determination shown by the men had rescued the drug lord.
What an anticlimax, I thought. How cruel fate can be in selecting who survives. I was sure Forbes would trade a dozen Piedpipers to bring Gallagher back, but knowing this to be impossible, he had at least the satisfaction of putting the bastard behind bars if they ever escape this place.
Surprisingly, the Scorpio leader seemed to have survived the incident reasonably well. The heavy clothing possibly prevented the criminal from drifting too far. I looked across, believing the man’s survival was a miracle. I briefly wondered if it had been intended as a ploy to rid the police of their grasp on things.
The group recommenced their arduous task to reach the ascending steps. We ambled pass the conspicuous looking compressor, now silent and possibly destined to a watery grave. The impending staircase could only be a short distance now. Testing our ability to withstand its punishing flow, the undercurrent caused many of us to take hold of a fellow colleague for added stability. The precarious balancing act was testing both nerve and stamina. Ascendance to level two couldn’t come quick enough.
To everybody’s surprise the rapids ceased their life threatening intrusion. The deluge literally stopped as quickly as the flow had commenced. The gods were finally looking down on us. Good fortune, it seemed, had arrived in the nick of time. The tributary at first commenced to stabilise, their collective water patterns gradually settling to a stagnant state. At near shoulder height the waters began to recede at a tolerable rate. I sensed the flood had reached its peak and with low tide destined to exert its influence, the near surface subterranean world would drain its passageways accordingly. With the return of high tide I knew the first two levels would remain unaffected.
We forged ahead at a moderate pace, the passive watercourse now providing a non-threatening path. Despite the cold waters we were now on course to reach the ascending steps. Finally the long awaited staircase came into view. It was a welcome sight.
~ * ~
On reaching the steps, Forbes instructed the entourage to climb its path and to wait at the landing for his arrival.
Without warning and not wishing to cooperate, the Scorpio leader withdrew a gun from his side coat pocket. Forbes didn’t appear overly concerned with the blighter’s feeble display. In retaliation he simply shouted at the Piedpiper to ascend the steps. His firearm was saturated having been submerged for a considerable length of time. It was high
ly probable the weapon would be deemed as useless, with the likelihood of jamming on operation. It was possibly the criminal’s last pathetic attempt to avoid the inevitable. Soaked to the core and with no apparent escape, the Piedpiper of Pedley was now forced to ascend the steps amidst the surround of the constabulary.
Although nearing exhaustion, Forbes was well aware the disclosure of this scoundrel would soon be revealed. He would not miss this opportunity under any circumstances. The flood was a close call, but in a sense it had served some usefulness. Ironically the actions of the Piedpiper had forced the issue, whereby he had no alternative but to accompany the police to the safety of higher ground. The detective’s one regret was the loss of Peter Gallagher, his most trusted and loyal colleague. He had to finally come to terms the body was now at the mercy of the deluge below. Forbes’ emotional state reflected a mixture of sadness and unrelenting anger toward the Piedpiper. He took a short moment to contemplate before joining his troops.
Forbes then ascended the steps both wet and cold. The awaiting party acknowledged his arrival by stepping to one side and allowing their superior to commence proceedings. The moment of truth had arrived. The long-awaited decision to surrender was finally declared, evident by the subsequent release of the gun on the bluestone floor.
The lone figure simply stood still with arms fully extended to both sides. The head was marginally tilted toward the ground. Not a word was uttered by the captive. The detective immediately stepped forward to retrieve the weapon.
‘Reveal yourself!’ demanded Forbes, unable to contain his patience.
The police waited but no effort was made to cooperate. Forbes signaled to one of his men to remove the balaclava. The time had arrived to finally put all their guesswork and aspirations to rest. Bit by bit the tight fitting mask began to come apart at the seams. To everybody’s shock, it wasn’t so much the exposure of the lower face, but rather, the length of hair that was being revealed. This was not a male person as anticipated, but in fact a woman. Everybody continued to stare as a full face began to manifest itself. Finally, and now totally exposed, the sight of the Piedpiper brought instant shock and disbelief to all watching the performance.
There stood the tall and thickset build of Martha Kellett. She wore an impassive look and made no attempt to speak.
Like everyone else, I too looked on this woman, my trusting and kind-hearted neighbour, as if there had been some terrible mistake. This can’t be right, a voice from within kept repeating. How could this be? It would take some time for the shock element to subside.
Forbes then proceeded with the rites and subsequent arrest.
‘Martha Kellett, you are hereby formally charged for the atrocities you –‘
Screams of anguish cut short the detective’s formalities. This pleasant and propitious person I once knew had turned into a deranged nutcase that seemed so totally foreign. Like a poltergeist or wailing banshee, Martha Kellett had transformed herself into a frightening and frenzy state of insanity. The acceptance of capture was just too much to bear. It had become a very disturbing sight. Reminiscent of the infamous Brad Morgan, she shook in uncontrollable rage, her eyeballs protruding so noticeably you’d swear they were about to exit their sockets.
Forbes slapped Martha across the face to bring her to her senses. Returning to a more subdued state, she was then handcuffed and directed by two detectives en route to the surface. In an act of benevolence and feeble apology, a somewhat embarrassed Alan Forbes turned to me with a typical heartless remark.
‘No hard feelings, Harrison?’
I simply nodded in response. In a strange way he did at least acknowledge the error of his judgment. Finally the persistent and pompous Forbes would now leave me in peace. I took my last look at Martha Kellett being led away by the dose attendance of Doyle and Parnell. Now void of expression she epitomised the very meaning of betrayal, despise and corruption. It would take some time to overcome this unexpected shock. In the excitement of the night’s unfolding drama I had forgotten about my elusive credit card.
The Piedpiper would now be taken to the station for questioning. Following his post-arrest interrogation, Forbes would then address his men in the morning. His summary of the case would be better served with a clear head and in the presence of the entire team. In recognition of their commitment and contribution, they too deserved some answers with this final arrest. Apart from Peter Gallagher, Forbes’ one other regret was his inability to recognise and capture the guilty party earlier.
He now owed Marsh ten dollars for correctly selecting Martha Kellett.
~ * ~
B
y the time Forbes had tidied up his so-called loose ends, it was late morning when he entered the office before a packed audience. The entire station was assembled to hear his postmortem address. Burke was rather bemused to learn of his circumstances leading up to the meeting. He reluctantly accepted the necessary procedures to clear his name, but was not impressed that as sergeant of Pedley Police Station, he too had come under suspicion.
With everyone seated, Forbes began.
‘First and foremost let me take this opportunity to thank you all for your committed team effort. The eventual arrest of the Piedpiper, including the remaining criminals, was not the work of one person, but rather, a contribution from each and every one of you here today. Whilst praise is justly deserved, also spare a thought for those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice. Including the gangland murders, the atrocities carried out by Scorpio and Traffik accounted for twenty-four lives. It is a deplorable and terrible waste of life, in particular, that of our colleague Peter Gallagher who will be sadly missed. In recognition of his services to the force, our detective will be farewelled with full police honours next week. The funeral service will be held in the city, on a date yet to be finalised. Additionally, a private memorial is scheduled for this Thursday here in Pedley. Details will be posted on the billboard this afternoon.
‘Now to the case in question. In sorting out this mess and piecing together the jigsaw puzzle that has put the Piedpiper behind bars, we need to first go back in time to gain a better understanding. Following my interrogation with the Kellett woman this morning, I took the liberty of placing some phone calls to tie up some loose ends.
‘To begin with, Martha Kellett always had a passion for accumulating wealth. She earned an adequate income from her teaching days, and as a spinster with no direct descendants, her ability to save was far greater than most. But her desire for wealth demanded more. She met Lou Hanna many years ago, who was at the time one of two drug dealers operating locally. The two fell in love and Hanna convinced Kellett that a considerable amount of money could be made from the illegal trade. Hanna had the contacts and knew the industry, while Kellett provided the brains and finance. Lou Hanna was eventually arrested and sent to jail for a few years, which broke Martha’s heart. True to their words, Hanna never divulged the identity of his partner and Martha declared she would wait for his return.
‘Around eight years ago Lou Hanna re-entered Pedley as Sam Vac-caro, but physically a vastly different man from when he left. Gone was the excessive fat he once carried, as well as the long dark hair and scruffy beard. He returned boasting a trim and muscular physique with short grey hair. The transformation was incredible and it would take a very sharp eye to link the two men as one.
‘So as not to arouse suspicion, he took up residence in Martha’s rear bungalow. Forever the clever one, Martha chose Sam through the local employment agency to keep everything in perspective and above board. Regardless of the number of applicants, it would always be Martha’s ultimate selection and so it was inevitable the two would be reunited.’
Forbes paused due to the sustained silence. He hadn’t experienced such an absorbed audience for sometime. He recommenced his postmortem address.
‘The team of Kellett and Hanna was subsequently reborn, but this time with bigger fish in mind. Through those absent years Hanna had made some very good contacts within t
he drug industry. His prime acquaintance was a man called Victor Marlow in charge of the Scorpio syndicate. Their timing in search of a possible trafficking venture could not have been better planned. Victor had knowledge of the subterranean passageways, but not the location to the entrances. He dangled a carrot in front of the pair, stating if the underground network could be found then the southern operation was theirs. It was Martha Kellett who discovered the secret and of course the rest is history. The Broadbent site was subsequently purchased and the necessary renovations followed.
‘Throughout his second stint in Pedley, Lou Hanna purposely took a low-profile role, living virtually as a recluse within the Kellett property, except for his underground activities and occasional errand down town. As time progressed the pair began to recruit, primarily to avoid exposure by having someone else carry out their street deals. Charlie and Mick were two such enrollments. Their enterprise flourished with each passing year, to the point of challenging city headquarters for annual revenue. The southern operation, in the space of a few years, had become the leading regional centre and role model for similar invested interests. The underground network had not only proven to be an ideal headquarters, but also a perfect location to store and distribute their abundant stock to both local and interstate destinations.’