The Revelation Room (The Ben Whittle Investigation Series Book 1) (24 page)

He moved a few steps closer. Every hair on his body stood on
end. Goosebumps hatched on his arms. Sweat dribbled into his eyes. His wounded
eye reacted badly to the salty intrusion of the sweat. How on earth was he
going to search the pockets of a corpse?

It’s only a pair of overalls. Two side pockets. Easy as
pie.

Yeah. If you didn’t have hands attached to an invisible pneumatic
drill. To make matters worse, he needed to put down the rifle to go through her
pockets. That meant he would be temporarily defenceless.

Come on! You can do this. Thirty seconds, tops.

More flies joined the others circling the corpse. Alice’s
yellow overalls were peppered with black dots. What the hell did the bloody
things have? A fly grapevine?

Marcus knelt down beside Alice and laid the rifle on the
ground. ‘Alice?’

Alice’s open eye winked at him.

Marcus shook his head. That didn’t happen. No way. That was
just his mind playing tricks. He swatted the flies with the back of his hands.
He then fished in her left-hand  pocket for the keys. Nothing, save a hot
slab of dead thigh. Just touching it caused bile to rise up from his stomach
and into his throat.

Don’t puke. Not now. Get a grip.

Maybe he should just go. Forget Emily. Look after number
one. What was the point in risking his neck for a girl who’d thought nothing of
dobbing him in to Sister Alice and the Father? He could live without Emily. He’d
been doing all right before he’d met her. No, scrub that, better than all
right. He’d been doing bloody good. He’d been given a free rein to deal. The
girls on the streets liked him. All things considered, life was pretty cool
before Emily Hunt had turned up and shook his world upside down.   

You love Emily.

So what if he did? What was love, anyway? It was just a
word. There were plenty more fish in the sea. Particularly down on the coast.
He could easily find another Emily and start again.

And spend the rest of your life wondering what’s happened
to her? For once in your life, do the right thing.

Marcus crawled to the other side of Alice’s body. Through
her blood. He could feel it soaking through the thin fabric on the knees of his
overalls. A thought struck him. What were they going to wear if they went on
the run? They could hardly scoot off to the coast in bright yellow overalls,
especially ones soaked in the blood of a murdered woman.

That doesn’t matter now. You can buy new clothes.

True. He’d stashed a fair bit of money away from dealing.
But that still meant they would have to go shopping for clothes looking like
luminous members of the Charles Manson gang.

Just focus on one thing at a time.

Alice’s arm was in the way of her pocket. As he pulled it
out of the way, her eye flew open and treated him to an icy stare. Marcus
gagged and looked away. A fly landed on his hand, showing no distinction
between the dead and the living. Thinking Alice had reached out and touched
him, Marcus screamed and jerked his arm.

Alice seemed to watch him with those sightless, staring
eyes. Her lips were peeled back. Blood trickled from one corner of her mouth.

Marcus dry-retched several times.

Get a grip. Don’t look at her face.

He fished in Alice’s pocket and was rewarded with a small
bunch of keys. Overcome with relief, he laughed and stuffed the keys in his
pocket. He then scrambled to his feet, retrieved the rifle and headed back
towards the farmhouse.

Ebb pumped the empty cartridge out
of the shotgun just as Cyril had shown him many years ago when Cyril still had
arms to pump with. He also remembered Cyril telling him that another cartridge
would automatically load into the chamber. So that was him armed and ready to
go looking for deserters.

It was as clear as the crucifixion itself that something bad
had happened. Sister Alice wasn’t coming back. Call it intuition. Call it
premonition. Call it one big disaster after another, but the simple truth was
as plain as Sister Alice’s face: she’d either deserted him or she’d been
attacked by that retarded deviant, Brother Marcus.

Brother Marcus had already shown that he was more than
capable of murder; just ask that saucer-sized hole in Brother Tweezer’s back if
you wanted proof of what that pudding was capable of. It took a special kind of
coward to shoot a man in the back. A man without compassion. A man who deserved
to be pinned to a cross in the Revelation Room.

Most of Ebb’s clothes lay in a crumpled heap on the floor,
decorated with fragments of glass. Never mind. He would treat himself to a
brand new wardrobe once he got to Thailand or wherever the Lord saw fit to send
him. Perhaps a nice white suit and a panama hat to top it off. He might even stand
a chance of getting a decent tan to complement the suit.

He walked out of the bedroom and into the lounge with his
robe hanging open at the middle. His stomach wobbled and obscured his feet. A
strict diet of rice and Thai chicken would do wonders for his figure. To hell
with being a vegetarian. A man needed protein to put a spring in his step. But
this was no time  to fret about his appearance. Not when there was a goose
on the loose with a pickled egg.  

***

Marcus entered the farmhouse by the back door. He stood in
the kitchen and tried to listen for movement. The only thing he could hear was
the sound of his heart thudding in his ears. Still, with Sister Alice and
Brother Tweezer dead, and the Father incapacitated, it was highly unlikely that
anyone would oppose him now.

He tiptoed past the huge pine table where The Sons and
Daughters of Salvation had shared so many happy meals together. The floorboards
creaked beneath his bare feet. The rifle felt slippery in his sweating palms.
He wanted to put it down and wipe the sweat away, but he didn’t dare let go of
it. It was almost as if doing so would conjure Ebb from his sickbed.

He walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Why
couldn’t he breathe properly? His lungs felt as if they had surgical stockings
wrapped around them. He stopped and rested against the wall with the rifle
dangling by his side. It would be so much easier just to leave Emily behind. It
would only take two minutes to get to the barn where the Land Rover was parked
and make his getaway. Then he could be free. Free forever.

You’ll never be free. Not if you leave Emily behind. Your
conscience will haunt you until your dying day.

‘I can’t do this,’ Marcus whispered to the empty hallway.

And what do you think Ebb will do to Emily? Let her keep
the baby and raise it up as his own? Or do you think he’ll kill them both and
put them down in the Revelation Room?

He pushed himself away from the wall and moved towards the
stairs. He removed the safety catch on the rifle and prayed to God that he
wouldn’t have to kill anyone else. By the time he reached the Sisters’ Room he
was convinced he was going to throw up. There was a cold clammy feeling between
his thighs. He fished in his pocket for the keys, unlocked the door and 
pushed it open.

Dixie gawped at the rifle. ‘What the fuck…’

Marcus put a finger to his lips. ‘Shut up and listen. We
haven’t got time for questions. We’re getting out of here.’

Emily stood up and put a hand to her mouth. ‘What’s
happened?’

‘Ebb knows about us. Tweezer’s dead. Alice is dead. And if
we don’t get out of here, so are we.’

‘Alice?’ Dixie said. ‘Who killed Alice?’

Marcus held up a hand. ‘I said no questions. We’re all going
to go down to the barn and get in the Land Rover. Then we’re going to get the
fuck out of here.’

Emily plucked at her lips. ‘Where are we going?’

‘I don’t know. As far away from here as possible.’

‘But what about Ben?’ Maddie asked.

Marcus shrugged. ‘I’m only taking you three. Ben and Bubba
will have to make their own arrangements. If you’ve got a problem with that,
then you can stay put, Maddie. I don’t give a shit.’

‘But Ben’s with me.’

Dixie turned to Maddie. ‘What do you mean, he’s
with
you?’

Maddie took a deep breath. ‘We came here looking for Ben’s
dad. His dad’s a private investigator.’

Marcus looked at Maddie as if she’d just babbled ancient
Hebrew. ‘A private investigator?’

‘He was looking for Emily.’

‘Looking for Emily? Why? This isn’t making any sense.’

‘It’s a long story.’

Marcus suddenly looked as if he’d seen a ghost. ‘Oh, Jesus
Christ, he must be the dude in the Revelation Room. The Infiltrator.’

‘You know where he is?’ Maddie said.

Marcus nodded.

‘Then we’ve got to go and get him. Ben, too.’

Emily walked over to Maddie. ‘Why was Ben’s dad looking for
me?’

Dixie looked at Marcus. ‘We haven’t got time for this now.
But Maddie’s right; we can’t just leave them behind.’  

Marcus looked at each woman in turn. ‘All right. But we have
to keep quiet. Ebb’s only one floor above us.’

***

Edward Ebb hobbled down the stairs using the handrail as a
crutch. The shotgun dangled by his side, primed and pumped and ready to fell
the very Devil himself. His injured leg throbbed and competed with his nose for
attention. He tried to focus on nice things, like milk chocolate and rent boys,
but his mind only seemed interested pain.

A noise on the landing. A door closing. All thoughts fled
from his head. He stood stock still about halfway down the stairs. His heart
banged against his ribcage, pumping blood into his ears. He let go of the
handrail and held the shotgun out in front of him. Sister Emily’s whining voice
drifted up the stairs. ‘But where are we going to go?’

 ‘As far away from this shit-hole as possible.’

Brother Marcus this time. Ebb crept down another two steps
and watched the leaving party as it gathered outside the Brothers’ Room. They
were so busy whispering and conspiring that they failed to notice the shotgun
aimed at their miserable heads. Brother Marcus fiddled with a bunch of keys.

How could they betray him like this? How could they be such
a dirty, filthy miserable bunch of Judas Iscariots?

He walked down the last few steps and stood a few yards from
the traitors. ‘Going somewhere?’

Marcus dropped the keys. He made a grab for the rifle
propped against the wall.

Ebb fired. The blast boomed around the enclosed landing.
Marcus clutched his chest and fell against the wall. He slid to the floor,
leaving a trail of blood behind him.

‘What happened to your eye, Pixie-pea?’ Ebb shouted, as
Marcus came to rest in a heap on the floor. He pumped a fresh cartridge into
the chamber and made an instant decision to shoot Dixie with his last
cartridge. She was the one most likely to cause a fuss when he was out of
ammunition.

Dixie walked towards him, teeth bared, Satan riding shotgun
on her tongue.

Ebb squeezed the trigger and blew half of Dixie’s chest
away. He watched a why-hast-thou-forsaken-me-Father look creep into those
gypsy-blue eyes. And then he watched death draw the curtains on her miserable
prostitute life.

The landing definitely needed a lick of paint now, not to
mention a damned good scrub. Sister Emily and Madeline would have had some busy
days ahead of them if they weren’t bound for the rabbit hole.

Screams circled Ebb’s head like vultures. Sister Emily knelt
beside Brother Marcus, her head pressed against the remains of his chest. Young
girls certainly didn’t know which side of their toast was buttered and which
side was burnt these days.

Ebb pumped the gun and released the spent cartridge. ‘Would
you two girls like to join Brother Marcus and Sister Dixie at God’s table?’

Madeline looked at him with eyes like obituaries.

He would excuse her for now because she was in shock. ‘I
suggest you both do as you’re told from now on in if you want to remain in
charge of your lives.’

After locking Sister Emily and
Madeline in the Revelation Room, Ebb went back to his living quarters and
reloaded the gun with three fresh cartridges. It was one thing bluffing the
women, quite another, Bubba and Benjamin. Or the Brothers Grimm as he now
referred to them. Those two bucks needed more than threats to keep their
backsides in line. Sister Alice would have gladly testified to that had she
been around to do so.

He’d managed to get into his black Nike tracksuit and
matching Nike trainers. It had been a right royal bitch getting the tracksuit
bottoms over his bandaged leg, but at least he now felt a lot more comfortable
and better dressed for the journey ahead.   

He studied himself in the one remaining wardrobe door. Black
was a good colour. It made him look quite streamlined. Athletic, even. Black
was also a suitable colour for mourning. The colour of grief, you might say.

He’d asked Sister Emily and Madeline at least a dozen times
where Sister Alice was, but either they weren’t telling or they didn’t know.
He’d put his chips on ignorance, considering they’d both been in lockdown prior
to Brother Marcus’s failed rescue attempt.

Sister Emily and Madeline had both reacted badly to the
Revelation Room, but they were just going to have to get used to it. They
wouldn’t be in there for long. Jesus had already instructed him to burn the
bunnies as soon as he could. A new life beckoned. Naturally, he would miss
Penghilly’s Farm, but when Jesus told you to burn bridges you bought matches
and tested wind direction.

He was sure that Sister Emily and Madeline didn’t have too
much to fear. Jesus would forgive them their sins and allow them safe passage
to Heaven. It was unfortunate that Sister Emily had been foolish enough to let
Brother Marcus impregnate her with his filthy seed, but he didn’t think Jesus
would hold that against her. She was young. Her heart was open to abuse. The
Lord would understand her immaturity and forgive her. Ebb would say a special
prayer for Sister Emily. And Madeline. May God forgive them both.

Poor Maxine was dead. Slain by that hideous fool Marcus. He
hoped that God would see fit to punish Marcus appropriately. Perhaps St Peter
would mount his head on a spike outside the Pearly Gates as a stark reminder of
the importance of loyalty and trust.

Maxine would have to be buried somewhere on the farm. He
didn’t want her to burn with the bunnies. She was way too precious to perish in
the flames. Considering Maxine had consumed most of Brother Gerald, it would be
like burying Brother Gerald as well. It would certainly ensure a fertile soil
for whoever took on the farm after him.

How are you going to get Max out of the Revelation Room,
Pixie-pea? He weighs a ton.

Ebb jumped. He turned to face his mother’s reflection in the
wardrobe door. ‘If you’re referring to Max, the dog is a “she”. For your
information, she’s called Maxine.’

His mother puffed on a Woodbine clamped between her lips.
He’ll
be all dead weight. And poor little Pixie-pea’s a wounded soldier.

‘Shut up, whore.’

Sticks and shovels, Pixie, sticks and shovels.

An idea. A good one. ‘Bubba can carry her up the steps.’

Risky, Pixie. What if that streak of lightning ups and
bolts?

Ebb turned away from the wardrobe. He’d had enough of
shooting the breeze. ‘He won’t be going nowhere with a shotgun aimed at his
head.’

You can’t go nowhere, Pixie-pea. You can only go
somewhere.

Ebb ignored her. He hobbled through his living quarters and
stepped out onto the tiny landing. There was so much to do before the bunnies
burned. All traces of his existence had to be removed from Penghilly’s Farm.
Clothes, personal possessions, documents, weapons and just about everything
that could be traced back to him.  

He wished with all his heart that Sister Alice was still
alive to help, but intuition told him she’d already been killed by that
fraudster, Marcus. Why else would she be missing? It was beyond comprehension
to even consider that she’d deserted him. Well, he’d just have to manage on his
own. And he would. He’d single-handedly built The Sons and Daughters of
Salvation from a humble concept into what it was today. You didn’t accomplish
such a feat by being a woolly-minded mammoth.

With the taste of Thai chicken on his tongue, and visions of
burnt bunnies hopping about in his head, Ebb limped down the stairs to put the
last two bunnies in the pot.  

***

Ben stared out of the filthy window at the motionless body
lying on the ground at the foot of the tower. He couldn’t tell for certain who
it was, but he thought it might be Alice. The hair looked grey, but it was
impossible to tell for sure with the sunlight casting shadows across the courtyard.
It was also raining quite heavily. Sunshine and rain. The magic ingredients for
making a rainbow cake, as his mother used to say when he was still young enough
to think it was funny.

He’d watched Marcus search the body and then walk off
towards the farmhouse. That had been followed sometime later by two shots
ringing out on the landing. Maddie was dead. He knew it. There was a huge black
hole in his heart telling him so. Pastor Tom would never know what had happened
to his daughter. Not even a mound of earth in Rwanda to mark the spot. And it
was all Ben’s fault. If Stutter-buck had possessed one ounce of courage, one
shred of decency, he would never have let Maddie get anywhere near The Sons and
Daughters of Salvation.

That’s only with hindsight.

Ben shook his head. ‘I’m a useless, worthless c-coward.’

Bubba put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, making him jump. Ben
turned to him. ‘Maddie’s dead.’

Bubba shook his head.
No
.

Tears pricked the backs of Ben’s eyes. He thumped his chest.
‘She is. I c-can f-feel it inside.’

Bubba formed his thumb and forefinger into an ‘O’.

‘She’s not okay. She’s dead. We’re all d-d-dead.’

Bubba put both his hands on Ben’s shoulders. He looked at
Ben with those clear blue eyes that so reminded him of Pastor Tom.
Don’t
give up,
Bubba’s eyes said.
Don’t ever give up.

***

Ebb stood on the first floor landing and looked at the
corpses of Brother Marcus and Sister Dixie. ‘Planning to leave, were you?’

Dixie and Marcus kept shtum. Traitors the pair of them.
After all he’d done for them, and this was how they repaid him. By God, you
certainly found out who your friends were in a crisis.

How you gonna get them down the rabbit hole, Pix?

Ebb spun around, expecting to see his mother on the stairs.
Nothing, just strands of cobwebs decorating the dirty walls with black and
silver streaks. His heart felt like a kid on a bouncy castle.  He
swallowed hard. His throat still felt crushed from where Tweezer had attacked
him. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Tweezer had inflicted  permanent
damage to his windpipe. Well, he could burn in Hell for all eternity. Ebb was
done with him. Done and dusted, as his mother might have said.

As for Marcus and Dixie, Bubba could carry their corpses
down to the Revelation Room once Benjamin was safely locked away. Easy as
homemade pie. Ebb reached down and plucked the bunch of keys from a puddle of
blood.

Dixie leered at him with her best a
re
y
ou looking
for a good time?
grin.

Ebb studied her for a while. It was a shame how things had
turned out with Sister Dixie. She’d shown so much promise to start with.
Perhaps one day when the dust and debris settled, he’d find it in his heart to
look upon Sister Dixie fondly again. He was particularly proud of the way
they’d disposed of the pimp who’d controlled her miserable life with drugs,
threats and sexual depravity.

He wiped the keys on the leg of his tracksuit and opened up
the Brothers’ Room. Bubba and Benjamin were standing by the window in some sort
of embrace. For one incredulous moment he thought the two of them had embarked
on a love affair. He pointed the shotgun at them.

‘Lockdown is over. We have work to do.’

Benjamin looked at him with bankrupt eyes. ‘What work?’

‘The Lord’s work.’

Ben laughed. ‘The Lord’s w-work? Is that what you c-call
it?’

Ebb didn’t care for the whiny tone of Benjamin’s voice. Or
for that stammer rearing its ugly head. It spoke volumes for possession. As did
Benjamin’s warning to Sister Alice about Cyril’s death and the removal of
Bubba’s tongue. ‘Don’t question me. Put your hands on your head and walk out of
the room.’

Ben did as instructed. Bubba followed him.

Ebb backed away a few steps. ‘Not you, Bubba. You stay put.
We’ve got work to do. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’

Ebb waited for Ben to get onto the landing before throwing
the bunch of keys on the floor. ‘Lock the Brothers’ Room and then get down the
stairs.’

‘Where are we g-going?’

Ebb smiled. ‘The Revelation Room, Pixie-pea. Now move.’