The Place That Never Existed

by Jim Ody

  He pulled up to the Dudley House, and his heart rate quickened as he saw other cars. They had debated long and hard earlier about what they should do, but the mayor had told them to meet him here. This would be off the record. That very detail made Don anxious. There was enough that wasn’t completely above board on record, so anything off of the record meant something extremely bad was going to happen. He hoped it didn’t involve him.

  He got out of his BMW and momentarily wondered whether he would purchase the Range Rover he’d been test driving. Then, as he glanced at the house, he felt something draining him of his energy. He tried to pull together the confidence that a policeman should have going into a situation. He had been trained for riots, drunken public house brawls, and entering the unknown, but that seemed to be fine when he was clear which side of the law he was on.

  This was bigger than law itself.

  The other cars showed the wealth that was spread between them all, with only the non-descript black van to stand out. There was an almost haunting way it sat parked at an angle, looking menacingly like an oversized hearse.

  Just then, a rumbling-purr of a Ford Mustang was heard and then seen as it pulled up. Inside, Rupert was sneering, and some floppy-fringed girl sat next to him, looking anything but happy to be here. Possibly a lovers’ tiff or some disagreement with Rupert’s marital status or such like. A flash in Don’s mind pictured her being sacrificed in front of them.

  The meeting earlier, and the long hours, were finally catching up with him. But there was always that seed of doubt planted and now beginning to sprout.

  “Hey, Rupe,” Don said, raising a hand to the councillor. Rupert waved back with a flash of his smile—the work of a private dentist—and ushered out the girl. She was medium height, wearing a skirt and a halter-neck top. She flashed a false smile, and Don could at once see why Rupert was deciding to show her off. Although it was unusual that he had become slightly more brazen about his infidelity.

  “Friend?” Don said, although he had no idea why he said that.

  There seemed to be a little tension between the two of them, which made it even more strange that she should be here.

  “Yeah, something like that, Don,” he winked in a you-know-what-an-old-dog-I-am sort of way.

  “Any ideas why we’re here?” Don asked.

  “It’s the mayor’s show. Who knows?” And then he suddenly added, “Does it worry you?”

  “Me? Nah, I was in the Falklands, that was no easy ride. I’m sure I can cope with whatever is to happen.”

  They walked in to a gentle rumble of chatter. Awkwardly, it died down as they entered.

  Alfred beckoned them in. “Here they are!” he said.

  Don scanned the room and saw fellow councillors George Mellor and Justin Payne looking sly and as if they were silently plotting murder or mayhem. Deidre Lennon, the police receptionist, and PC Bobby Ranford were sat together both looking nervous and apologetic, but it was the final figure that made both Don and Rupert take notice. The large imposing figure of “Crazy” Keith O’Keegan, a legend from East London who had lived through many a tale that should’ve killed most. His face looked like it had broken more than a few baseball bats in its time, puffy and misshapen equally through drink and scar tissue. A skull tattoo sat menacingly on one side of his neck, and a snake the other. His shaved head bore nicks and scrapes from knife fights, and either side of his mouth was scarred from the infamous Chelsea-smile that someone had given him—slicing his mouth either side, almost up to his ears. The story goes that he broke free of the two men holding him down, one is now paralysed from the neck down, the other died having been in a coma for three months. The knife-wielder was found decapitated with the very same knife that had sliced him, but not before his tongue was cut off and his eyes gouged out.

  They say that if you don’t kill him, then he will kill you. A man of little words, his very presence was enough to strike fear in all those around.

  Alfred stood up in front of the fireplace, and all eyes fell on him. “I suspect you’re wondering why I’ve called you all here?” He had a grin that looked straight from the face of a movie villain. “I realise we talked at length earlier about this situation that we have here, but sometimes words are just that—words. I am well aware that we can sit and nod in agreement when sat in a beautiful conference room, sipping tea and nibbling on biscuits, but how do any of us know exactly how we feel?” He paused, and the severity of the situation became more apparent. Within the official walls, he was a person of authority. But that authority had boundaries, rules, and legislation. Out here, potentially nobody could hear you scream and you could easily disappear. Everybody in the room knew this.

  This house was known as The Place That Never Existed as there was power in these four walls to make that a reality. Nobody would question it. The presence of Crazy O’Keegan only underlined that statement.

  Alfred was not used to strong-arm tactics, but he was worried by the likes of Rupert who gave the impression he was waiting in the wings to take him out and take over the role. He would not stand down, and as the mayor, he was the most powerful, and it was his God-given right that declared him the powerful one. To reiterate this point, his East End friend “Crazy” was here to show that if anyone wished to challenge his authority, then they would be removed from not just the committee, but more than likely from life itself.

  “Deidre? You were not at the meeting, but we have compensated you well, correct?” Deidre looked like she might be sick, her usual pale complexion now a ghostly grey. “Y-yes, Alfred. I am more than happy…you know that I have no bad word to say about you.”

  Alfred nodded and turned to Bobby.

  “Young Bobby, what about you? Do you understand this situation enough to want to help us, or should we all put our hands behind our backs so you can cuff us?” He grinned but with no laughter.

  Crazy O’Keegan made an amused, but nonsensical noise.

  Bobby took a deep breath before answering. “I’m not saying I support all of your decisions, but I do understand the grave consequences for the town should this situation not be handled correctly.”

  Alfred nodded at that. “Honesty in a copper, who knew?”

  A few nervous laughs rang out.

  “Don, you want to take notes?”

  Don remained quiet.

  “Bobby, let’s be candid here. I don’t need you to fully support our decisions. I don’t need you to like or enjoy our choices. I just need you to turn a blind eye if and when the time comes, okay with you?”

  Bobby nodded, and Don stared silently, hoping the kid didn’t fuck it all up. It was all he needed, having got himself into a nice position, to have some pissing youngster come in like he was TJ Hooker or something, full of piss and vinegar looking to get commendations and the such like.

  “Rupert, mate. Who is this then?” Alfred said, again all smiles, completely fake as he already knew.

  Rupert suddenly felt his heart miss a beat. He knew he would have to tell the truth, even though for a split second he scrambled in his brain for a plausible response—niece, undergrad, etc. But they all knew his philandering ways. “This is Sam,” he mumbled.

  “Hi, Sam. And what do you think of this place?”

  Sam was about as scared as she had ever been in the whole of her life. They’d only just put on their clothes again in the hotel room when Rupert’s phone went. He had muttered away in the bathroom and then burst out saying they were to go out to a meeting, and would she like to be his date? One minute she was thinking she was off to some dinner party for a brief meeting, and now it seemed like some sort of cult filled with all of the important people from the town—and some gangster. There could be no possible way that this could end well. It depressed her to think she was looking at Alfred and wondering if she would have to have sex with him to get away alive…

  “It’s a nice place,” she said, looking down at her feet, suddenly feeling the chills on her bare legs. She wished she’d worn some
thing a little more appropriate than the clothes she’d put on earlier for her sexual rendezvous.

  “Is this the first time you have been here?” Alfred asked.

  Sam looked at Rupert, but he refused to meet her eyes. Typical, she thought. For so long, she had thought he was the one with the clout around here, and it appeared that when push came to shove, the old white-haired mayor was the one in charge.

  “No, I was here last week…with him.” She shot a sideward glance at Rupert. If she was going to go down, then he sure as shit was going too.

  “Is this true, Rupe?” Alfred asked, but there was no conviction in the question. You could tell he already knew the answer.

  “Alfred. Shall we cut the charade?” He said it like they were brothers having a disagreement. “We both know you know the answer. So yes, this is correct. We came here last week and had sex. It was more than likely in the very place that you stand now. We didn’t go anywhere else in the house. Sam knows nothing. I repeat, Sam knows nothing!” He momentarily lost his composure.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Rupe. We are old friends and we have a great deal of trust built up, am I correct?” He spread his hands out in a classic show of trust.

  Rupert nodded. “Of course. And that is why we only came in here and then out again. She wanted to see the inside of the house, so I showed her just these rooms. There is no issue here. Let her go, she’s not part of this.”

  “Okay, okay. But she is aware now that she’s caught up in something that has now made us all very vulnerable, yes?”

  “That is not my doing. You asked that she come, too, okay?”

  Alfred nodded. “This is true, but let’s see this, shall we?” He opened a laptop, tapped in a password, then while the tension mounted, cursed and retyped the password, “Bloody caps lock!” he muttered under his breath but loud against the silence. He tapped the mouse pad, and a video played of that evening with Rupert and Sam.

  “I’ve gone past your naked antics, you’ll be pleased to know. Rupert, you’ve disappeared somewhere leaving your young lady here. She doesn’t just wait for you though, does she?”

  Sam couldn’t believe this. She’d heard the stories about this place, and was certainly not one to believe in the supernatural, so the minute Rupert had gone off to the toilet, she’d quickly looked around.

  The video picked her up walking into the kitchen and along the back corridor towards the cellar, where she tried the door. She was then visibly spooked, or more than likely heard Rupert coming back, so hightailed back to the lounge.

  “And what were you doing, young lady?” Alfred asked.

  “I was just curious, that’s all,” she said, her arms crossed for comfort.

  Alfred sneered a half-smile. “Curious? Well, well, well. And that is our problem, Rupert, isn’t it!”

  Rupert turned to Sam. “You stupid cow! Why would you snoop around?”

  “Why would you bring me here?” She replied.

  “Why do you think?”

  “Okay, okay. I think we can probably overlook this little misunderstanding, don’t you think?” Alfred said then looked over to Crazy and nodded.

  “Do what you need to do,” Rupert said, resigned to it.

  Alfred then clicked again on the computer. “Unfortunately, that is not all. This morning, these two broke in at the back of the house. Who are these people, Sam?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea!”

  “These two just happen to be renting the cabin from your housemate. A coincidence?”

  “Of course!” she said, looking shocked.

  “I don’t like coincidences. This is too important for that. So we need messages!”

  Crazy moved with heavy steps towards Sam as Alfred left the room and went into the corridor. “Bring her here!” he said as the sound of a lock could be heard.

  “Hey, stop! Don’t touch me!” Sam tried backing away against the wall without luck as Crazy grabbed her and dragged her towards where Alfred was.

  The rest of the room was filled with visibly shocked faces. This sort of thing had never happened before.

  “You wanted to look in the cellar? Well, here’s your opportunity!” He swung open the door, and Crazy pushed her in. Sam screamed, and between Alfred and Crazy, they pushed her away from the door, slammed it shut, and snapped the padlock into place, while Sam rained down thumps on the door from within.

  The screams and the banging were horrible for everyone.

  The suddenly desperate inaudible words followed by complete silence were even worse…

  THE PLACE THAT NEVER EXISTED

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  J ez wasn’t completely comfortable with the thought of romance. His last gesture had been something from Ann Summers that required batteries. He hadn’t known what the hell the thing was, but having tried to avoid bumping into someone he knew in the town centre, he had jumped into the first shop he’d come to. At first he’d felt a little like a child entering Santa’s grotto for the first time. He was nervous, a little excited, but mostly scared shitless. He looked around at clothing and things he’d only read about in steamy books, advertised in the back of old magazines, or stumbled on via Google when he had mistyped a search―On that occasion, his curious nature had taken him into a depraved dark world that left him feeling a little scared and shaken when he’d closed his laptop. One time, he’d hidden his laptop in the garage, such was the feeling that it had left him with. He had lain in bed worrying about the evils that were pouring out like fetid waves through his internet signal, unable to sleep…but anyway…

  This one time in Ann Summers, Jez had been looking at something in a box when one of the shop assistants scared the Timothy-Dalton-Bond-Movie out of him. He had got talking to her and, unable to talk straight while remembering to not speak to her breasts, he had talked himself into her advising him this was what he needed. He had left the shop unable to remember any of the conversation and not entirely sure whether or not the gift for his wife was for a male or female. It was a flip of the coin, so he had felt hopeful. Upon receiving the gift, his wife had feigned displeasure but had retired early for a long bath that evening and repeated this for the rest of the week.

  As of last week, the item was still in her wardrobe. The batteries were a different brand.

  “Not a bad little shag-nest, so it isn’t!” Kim said in her straightforward way as they pulled up to the lodge.

  “Their car’s not here though,” Jez said. “They must be out.”

  “That’s good,” Kim said.

  “How so?”

  “You don’t want to be bursting in on them humping away, no?”

  Jez frowned. “I would knock. I wouldn’t go bursting in anywhere.”

  “But I thought this mercy mission of yours was full of importance. I thought time was of the essence!”

  “Yes, it’s definitely important, but I would still knock.”

  “Bloody English. How you lot can fight in wars is beyond me.” She then had a stab at a British accent. “Sorry, my good man, but would you mind awfully if I were to impale you with this sword. I hate to do it and all that, but you know? For king and country, old chap!”

  “That sounded like an Australian.”

  “It’s not Britain’s Got Talent. Who’d you think you are, Simon bloody Cowell!”

  “Good thing, too, I’d say.” Jez got out.

  “Where are you going?” Kim called at him.

  “To burst through the door!” He grinned. “Nah, one of them might be here.”

  “Fookin’ good thinking, brainiac!”

  “Yep!” He walked up onto the porch and knocked a couple of times before standing back. After a couple minutes he glanced back at Kim, shrugged, and tried again. Then with a glance through the nearest window, he walked back.

  “Nope. No one home.”

  “Whatcha wanna do then?” Kim said. “Wait?”

  Jez pulled out his phone to see if he had missed a call or text message. I should’ve k
nown, he thought, noticing no bars of signal on his phone. He shook it at Kim. “No signal,” he said.

  “Figures, so it does. Why she’s not returned your calls, I mean.”

  “Why don’t we take a walk a bit further down the road and see what’s around? If we leave the car then they’ll know I’m here and hang around.”

  “You are waiting to save your sister from some psycho bitch, and you want to take me on a romantic walk?”

  Jez shook his head. “Really? You think that would be romantic?”

  “Your wife must be like a pig in shit without you around!”

  “You’re not a very nice person sometimes.”

  He walked off. Then, thinking she might’ve hurt his feelings, she ran after him. “You want to cry on my breasts?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Shite, that’s the first time I have ever been turned down, I must be losing me touch!”

  They walked deeper into the forest following a lane too rough to be called a road. Out in the distance, they saw a house with rather a lot of cars and a black van outside.

  THE PLACE THAT NEVER EXISTED

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  S ince leaving the pub behind them, and with the meeting with Dhara still fresh in their minds, they took a road out in the opposite direction of Huntswood Cove and followed the signs for the beach. This typically took them on a road that was barely wide enough for the Jeep, with high hedges to the side, and at times the grass banked vertically too. This meant each time they met another vehicle, one of them had to reverse back to the last passing place which, by design or wear, would appear each half mile. The term passing place was used in the sense that in theory it would aid you to pass with slightly less difficulty than if they were not there. However, what it actually gave you was about another four foot of space that was worn into the bank and, if you were both in agreement, would allow you to fold in your wing mirrors and scrape the side of your cars against the bank while leaving the breadth of a fag paper between you both as you slowly passed, sweating like a pig in a pullover. Another few hundred yards later, and you cursed the next driver.