The Devil Inside

by D. L. Hicks

  ‘We have spoken of the importance of forgiveness. But how can we forgive the person who has committed these heinous acts, and should we even be expected to? There are those among us …’ Pausing, Joseph’s gaze lingered once more on the grieving Dalgleishs. ‘… Those among us who have suffered at the hands of this evil person, but who still turn to their faith for the support and reassurance they need to get through each day. I say we take our lead from the strength they display, and look to our Lord to guide us through the shadows.’

  As he spoke, Joseph became aware of the church’s rear doors soundlessly opening wide, and a body silhouetted against the bright morning sky outside. The figure’s arms crossed in a defiant stance as he leant against the wooden doorframe, where he remained rigid and motionless. He wore dark sunglasses and an overcoat that was out of place given the warmth of the morning. Joseph struggled to place him – was he a parishioner? And if not, what was he doing there?

  Joseph could hear his own voice droning on, but his mind was now on trying to get a better glimpse of this man.

  Returning to the altar, Joseph offered up the bread and wine for Holy Communion, then encouraged his flock to turn to each other and offer the Sign of Peace. As voices murmured and feet scuffled, he stepped down from his raised platform to mingle with them, shaking hands as he made his way down the central aisle towards the rear of the church, determined to get a better look at the figure who still lurked in the doorway. Reaching the third last row, he stopped to shake a young boy’s hand, then spun to face the rear doors – only to see them drifting closed. The stranger had gone.

  Confused, Joseph hurried back to the altar to complete his duties. ‘Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.’ With those words, he headed down the aisle again with his arms outstretched, inviting his brethren to accompany him out into the day. He dragged open the heavy oak doors and took a step out into the burgeoning sunlight.

  ‘Look out!’

  The voice came from behind him, and simultaneously an arm reached out and clasped his robes, wrenching him backwards.

  Regaining his footing, Joseph stared down at the first of the three bluestone steps that led in and out of the church. In the centre of the step was a package of some sort, which had been set alight and was just beginning to ignite fully. Yellow flames flickered at the exact spot where Joseph had been about to step, robes dangling inches from the blaze.

  ‘Get the broom, now!’ Joseph yelled, shepherding his congregation away from the smoke. A well-built man emerged within seconds, wielding the straw broom like Thor and his hammer, and proceeded to smack it down again and again on the burning mass to a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the crowd.

  It was then that the smell hit.

  As the flames died out, it was clear the package contained faeces of some sort, which with each strike of the broom had been spread around and now covered a sickening portion of the stair.

  ‘Careful … Mind your step.’ Joseph guided his people around the mess like a copper at a car crash, deflecting their questions as best he could. ‘That’s the way. It’s okay, we’ll get this cleaned up in no time. Thank you, yes, yes, I’ll see you next week. No, don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.’

  As the last person finally wandered out into the car park, Joseph remained standing next to the smouldering pile of refuse, the broom in his hand. He scanned the rambling land around the property, but nothing seemed remotely out of place.

  The mysterious man was gone, but the message he’d left was clear.

  CHAPTER 17

  Two down, and who knew how many to go.

  Bit by bit, the community was going insane, which gave him a perverse and unexpected thrill. That hadn’t been his intention, but it still gave him an undeniable buzz. The only downfall so far had been his disturbing nightmares, images of what he had done creeping through the darkness and into his head, shaking him to the core. Disgust was too soft a word to describe the conversations he had with himself in the darkest hours; waking time and time again lathered in sweat, the damp sheets entombing his body in misery. Sometimes the fear and self-loathing made him actually vomit.

  Still, he always had something to fall back on – this whole thing wasn’t his fault really. He was safe in the knowledge that he could lay the blame at someone else’s feet, which he would soon do – in more ways than one.

  The media – the newspapers and the TV news, especially the local stuff – were beside themselves. It was the first time they’d had a serial killer in the area for years, and they’d even started interviewing historians. Bizarre. What on earth did that have to do with what was going on today?

  The police had found the second girl’s car, but other than a bit of her own blood – and the dead dog – it seemed that it hadn’t been of much use to the authorities. Well, no one had come knocking on his door anyway.

  It was now midnight, and he was out in the shadows once again, this time driving towards the parkland just north of the town, an area renowned for couples to go ‘parking’. The thought of that sent spasms down his spine. He’d never been great with women, on account of everything, so Lover’s Lane was not a place he’d frequented much in his teenage years. Or ever, for that matter.

  Entering the car park, he was drawn to three sets of red tail-lights, glowing like devil’s eyes, car windows fogged up, the occupants no doubt hot and sweaty inside. It was a bit of a risk being here, but he didn’t think the coppers would focus too heavily on this area as it was always occupied by couples rather than girls on their own, who were the prime targets. His prime targets.

  He parked off to one side, concealed in the gloom thrown down by a bunch of large gum trees. As he eased down his window, the cool night air brought with it the scent of crushed leaves and dry earth. There was complete silence, broken only by the occasional muffled giggle floating on the breeze.

  He didn’t have to wait long. As if on cue, a woman stepped from one car, readjusting her skirt before knocking on the window of the car next door. ‘C’mon you two, enough’s enough. We wanna go down to the servo and get something to eat. Knock it off already.’

  There was a pause as the occupants of the second car made themselves decent before the torso of a half-naked man appeared through the rear passenger-side window. ‘Jesus, Lisa, you know how to ruin a moment don’t ya. Give us a sec and we’ll come down with you.’

  A few minutes later, the two cars sped off, a cloud of dust, pale in the moonlight, accompanying the spinning tyres in the traditional fashion. As the sound of the vehicles’ engines screamed away into the night, only one car was left behind, Lady Luck abandoning this poor couple.

  Once he was sure the other vehicles had disappeared, he slid from the driver’s seat, balaclava and gloves already on. He crept across the dirt, his steps delicate but purposeful – not that the couple would even know; they were too busy entertaining each other. As he approached, he heard a woman moaning. This certainly wasn’t the kind of pastime he would’ve expected of a good church-going girl. But he couldn’t stop a twinge of jealousy washing over him, before he forced it away. At least she would have the consolation of enjoying her last moments – that’s more than he could say for the other two. She should feel grateful.

  He stood outside the front passenger door, the sound of frenzied lovemaking less than a metre away. There was a slap on the window and he jumped. The woman had tried to grasp onto something – anything – before her hand slid down the window, smearing the steam away and allowing him to peer in. He could see her through the watery glass, sitting astride the man, her head thrown back in ecstasy as his hands cupped her breasts, her nipples jutting out from between his desperate fingers.

  In a flash, he could control himself no more.

  He ripped open the door and grabbed the woman by the arm, flinging her out of the vehicle in one abrupt motion. The man, pants around his knees, his face flushed with exertion, had no time to react before his head was grabbed and slammed down on the dashboard with a sick
ening crack. The man’s body lolled forward, his head flopping between his knees.

  ‘Oh my God … What the fuck?’

  The woman was clearly torn between trying to cover up her nakedness and helping her boyfriend.

  He towered above her as she scrambled across the dirt, her flawless skin scraping on the sharp stones as she struggled to get some purchase, to somehow get away.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he said, grabbing her bare ankle and dragging her back towards him. Amid the flurry of arms and legs, he noticed she had a tattoo on the bulge of her ankle bone – a small, bright-blue dolphin launching itself into a dive – and for a split second she became a real person to him, and not just a means to an end. But only for a second.

  CHAPTER 18

  ‘Any unit to respond to a male located by passers-by assaulted and bound; possible significant injuries. Any unit.’

  Charlotte heard the job come over the radio and sighed. Yet another domestic. So much of the police force’s time these days was spent sorting out couples who behaved more like children than adults, and the well-intentioned family members who tried to intervene. What was wrong with people? No wonder none of the vans were jumping at the opportunity to attend.

  But when she heard the job called again, a shudder went down her spine.

  ‘Any unit for this assault. Further info from the victim – it seems his girlfriend has gone missing. Repeat, a possible abduction, priority one.’

  She tossed her fresh chai latte into the nearest bin and jogged back to the car, where she saw that J.D. was already on the air letting communications know that they would take the job and were on the way. She strapped in and gunned the engine.

  Weaving through the early-morning traffic, they crisscrossed their way through town. She’d activated the lights and sirens, but in an unmarked car that didn’t guarantee the other road users would comply – half the time they were more interested in gawking than getting out of the way.

  Within five minutes, they’d skidded to a halt in the Lover’s Lane car park, the dust rising around them. Among the bushes to their left, Charlotte could see a small group of people waving to get their attention.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, we see you,’ J.D. said, shaking his head.

  They got out of the vehicle and walked to where the people were gathered around a man sitting on the ground. There was sizeable split on his forehead, but the blood was dry – he’d obviously been there for at least a few hours. He was conscious though, and after conveying that over the radio Charlotte made some room and crouched down next to him.

  ‘What’s your name, mate?’ She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Simon.’ His speech was affected by swollen lips, which had also been bleeding at some point. Tears welled in his eyes, and Charlotte felt a wave of sadness for him, which she swallowed forcefully. Focus.

  ‘I’m Detective Callaghan. It’s okay, Simon, we’ve got an ambulance on the way; you’re going to be fine. I need you to tell me what happened, in as much detail as you can remember.’

  Simon sniffed loudly and gathered himself. ‘I was here last night with Alice – my girlfriend. We were fooling around in the car – you know how it is. Anyway, while we were … well, you know, the car door opened and some bloke was standing there. He yanked Alice out of the car and grabbed me … And that’s about all I can remember. I think I passed out because the next thing I knew, I was waking up over there in the bushes with that rope tied around my hands and feet. I don’t even know where Alice is – I was yelling out for her for ages, until these people heard and came to help me. I don’t know if she’s around here somewhere or not – I don’t know what that bastard has done to her.’ He started to cry then, fat tears running down his dirty, blood-stained cheeks, his shoulders convulsing as he sobbed.

  ‘Is there anything you can tell me about the man?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Anything at all.’

  Simon shook his head. ‘Not really – he had one of those masks on, with the eyes and mouth cut out. That’s about all I could see.’

  ‘A balaclava you mean? Made of wool?’

  ‘Yeah, I think so.’

  In a town this small, balaclavas weren’t available just anywhere.

  Simon rubbed his hands together, red welts on both his wrists from where he’d been bound. A distinctive bright-green twirl rope lay at his feet, having been cut off by the people who had found him. Charlotte snapped her gloves on, snatched it up and bagged it as she continued speaking. ‘It was definitely a male, though; are you sure about that?’

  Simon nodded, fidgeting.

  ‘Any idea on his height? Or his weight – was he a big guy?’

  ‘I dunno about his height – I think he had to bend over to get in the car door, that’s all I could say. He was solid though – not weedy. Bigger than normal size I guess.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘I only saw him for a second and then the lights went out.’

  ‘Okay, you’re doing really well, Simon. Now I need you to tell me about Alice; where was she when you last saw her?’

  ‘The guy threw her out of the car – he reached in and just grabbed her and wrenched her out. I heard her scream when she landed on the ground outside, and that was it.’

  ‘That’s your car over there, right?’ Charlotte gestured at the small red hatch sitting in the car park. Simon nodded and Charlotte sent J.D. to put crime scene tape around it before some idiot came along and ruined any evidence it might provide.

  ‘Describe her for me, Simon.’

  ‘She’s a bit shorter than you, straight blonde hair down to her shoulders, blue eyes. I dunno what else to say.’

  Charlotte scribbled furiously, taking down every word coming out of Simon’s mouth. It wasn’t uncommon for offenders to make out to police that they were victims too, only for it to be discovered later that that was a complete lie.

  ‘What was she wearing?’ As soon as Charlotte asked the question, Simon blushed, his eyes averted.

  ‘Um … I don’t think she was wearing anything. We were kinda in the middle of something, y’know?’

  Charlotte would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so serious. The fact that Alice was missing – and naked – was not a good sign at all.

  ‘One last question before these guys get you sorted out,’ Charlotte said, as the ambo pulled into the car park, red-and-blue lights flashing. ‘Does Alice go to a gym by any chance?’

  A quizzical look crossed Simon’s face. ‘I don’t know if I’d say she goes to the gym. She’s a member of that new one, but she’s probably only been a few times.’

  ‘Right, thanks for your help.’ Charlotte watched as Simon was whisked away to get his injuries treated in the privacy of the ambulance. He definitely appeared genuine – he’d gone to a hell of a lot of trouble setting this up if it was fake. But she didn’t get that vibe from him. Her gut feeling was he was being honest, and experience had taught her to always trust her gut.

  As the ambo departed to transport Simon to hospital, siren fading into the distance, Charlotte relayed everything he had said to J.D.

  By now, a divisional van containing Tom and a kid who barely looked old enough to shave had turned up, as had the shift sergeant. Charlotte corralled them all together.

  ‘Everyone listen up,’ she said. ‘I want this area sealed off and guarded until we can process it – we’ll only need one on that, so pick straws. The rest of us need to get onto a search of the immediate area around this car park – through the scrub as much as possible. Everything points to this being our guy’s third victim, and if that’s right, I can’t see him taking her anywhere else, particularly as she had no clothes on. My guess is he’s dragged her off into the bushes. Chances are she’s already dead, but we can’t operate under that assumption – she might still be alive and clinging on until we can find her. Either way, we need to do that before the public do. Everyone make sure you have your radios on and come straight up on air if you find anything.’

  The
y dispersed in every direction, each eager to be the one who found the girl – dead or alive. Charlotte went to the right, J.D. a short distance away to her left, and the uniformed members disappeared into the undergrowth on the opposite side of the car park.

  Scanning the ground as she walked, Charlotte looked for anything that seemed out of place. She had been involved in many searches like this before, and often it was the tiniest thing that made the biggest difference: a discarded lolly wrapper; a bent cigarette butt; the remnants of a torn receipt.

  Within minutes, her radio crackled to life, and she heard Tom’s partner, his high-pitched voice betraying his excitement.

  ‘I’ve found the girl, I repeat, I’ve found the girl! Immediate assistance required!’

  Charlotte bolted back through the car park; she knew the exact place he had been searching. As she ran, she could hear him calling out, his voice reverberating in the still morning air, guiding them to him like a beacon. Dodging her way past overhanging tree branches, Charlotte battled through the scrub, eventually stumbling into a small clearing, enclosed on all sides like a natural amphitheatre.

  She caught the look of disgust on the young officer’s face as he turned away from the scene in front of him. ‘How can anyone do that to another human being?’ he said.

  Charlotte stepped past him, nudging him to one side so she could take in the full scene. Her first thought was that they had definitely found Alice – attractive, slim, straight blonde hair to her shoulders, naked as the day she was born. She was lying face down in the short grass, her arms extending out from her body like a crucifix. Her head was twisted to the left, her right cheek resting in the blood that had pooled out of her mouth and begun soaking into the dark soil.