The Devil Inside

by D. L. Hicks

  ‘Are you serious?’ she said, her words running into each other. ‘I … I don’t know what to say. Has he got any evidence for what he’s claiming? This is just … Holy fuck, J.D., this is serious – you know how they treat cases like this; his career will be shot forever, whether he’s guilty or not.’

  Charlotte knew her brother, knew he would never do something like that, not in a million lifetimes. She had grown up with this man – there was no way he could be guilty of that type of behaviour. He was a pillar of the community with an unwavering sense of morals, who lived his life according to how the scriptures dictated it: full of compassion, love, honesty and integrity. He despised that the church had developed a reputation for being abusive towards vulnerable children, and had many times voiced his disgust and shame for his profession whenever any of those sorts of allegations hit the headlines.

  He cries in the movies all the time, she thought, remembering Joseph wiping tears away in the darkness of the cinema. Doesn’t that mean something?

  ‘I know this is a shock, but just try to breathe,’ J.D. said, a vain attempt to calm her down. ‘He’s your brother and I’m not about to run to the press or go dragging him out of the church by the scruff of his neck. I’m going to get the full story – backed up by whatever evidence I can find – before I take any action. But the accusation is out there now, so it has to be investigated – I’ve got no choice.’

  J.D.’s words were slipping in one ear and out the other. Joseph – a paedophile? She looked across at Jack and saw his mouth was agape, his chin almost dragging on the floor.

  She shook her head. ‘Who’s the guy? Maybe I know him and what his agenda might be.’

  ‘His name’s Ben Willett. I haven’t met him yet, only spoken to him over the phone. But I’ll be honest with you, Charlotte, he seems genuine. He’s coming in tomorrow to make a statement, and I’ll go from there, but I thought you should know. We’re still partners, and I can’t change that just yet.’

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’ Charlotte could see Jack transfixed, his eyes wide, staring at the phone like it was the second coming of Christ himself.

  ‘Oh, one more thing …’ J.D. said.

  ‘Great, there’s more,’ Charlotte said with a sigh. She didn’t know how much more she could take. That Hawaii vacation was sounding better by the minute.

  ‘You might have heard on the grapevine, we’ve been looking for someone – another possible suspect. In reporting the incident to me, Ben mentioned another young boy who was with him at the time of the alleged offences and who was also subject to the abuse. Let’s face it, if Ben recognised Joseph as one of his attackers – and if he’s telling the truth about it – then there’s every chance this other guy did too. What’s more, Ben thought that the other victim lived down this way somewhere. So, I looked into it – got a warrant for some access to council records and electoral rolls, as well as making some discreet enquiries with the right people in the church – and I’ve managed to locate him. Charlotte, there’s every chance you might even know him – he owns that car dealership on the way out of town, just after the bend, you know the one?’

  The words hung in the air like hot air balloons that Charlotte just wanted to burst. She looked at Jack, whose eyes were already moving from the phone to her face as realisation hit. They stared at each other, frozen, as J.D. continued, the world as Charlotte knew it tilting on its axis and tipping her off.

  ‘Yeah, we were looking for a guy named Johnny, surname unknown. Thanks to the church, we were able to confirm his full name was Jonathan Tolbert. Turns out he now goes by Jack. Jack Tolbert. He’s definitely worth a look … He’s got my senses tingling.’

  Before she could even scream, Jack grabbed the phone and threw it hard at the wall, where it shattered to pieces spectacularly.

  CHAPTER 39

  As chunks of the demolished phone crashed to the floor, Jack stood perfectly still, his eyes glued to Charlotte, a weird look on his face. His eyes were glazed over, as if he was affected by something. Charlotte had seen that look before – many times – but never on Jack.

  It was not a good sign. At all.

  The home phone began ringing, but neither of them moved.

  ‘Look, Jack, I don’t know what’s going on here but it’s clearly a mix-up and—’

  ‘Shut the fuck up!’ he yelled, his face contorted with anger. ‘You shut your fucking mouth. That idiot Willet has fucked up everything. Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

  He was pacing now, his body in overdrive. He kicked out at the coffee table, causing it and everything on it to sprawl across the rug. Charlotte jumped at the outburst. She needed to calm him down – and fast.

  ‘Listen, we need to talk about this,’ she said, as the phone began ringing again. She had to get a conversation going with him before things really got out of hand. ‘I don’t know how much you’re involved in this, but I can help you get through it. Joe is my brother, Jack – I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation. There’s no need to make things any worse than they already are.’

  Jack laughed at the shallowness of her words. ‘Get through it?’ he mocked, circling the couch. ‘Some sort of explanation? Yeah, right. The explanation is that your brother is one twisted pervert, so get that into your head. For once in your boring, do-gooder life you have no idea what’s going on, okay? No fucking idea.’

  He was right, and she knew it. Was Jack – her Jack, the man who had been such a rock for her these last few weeks – really responsible for the murder of those three innocent women and the assault on her brother? Could she really have been so blind?

  First Joseph, then J.D. and now Jack. What type of curse is this?

  Charlotte prayed that J.D. would look past his anger at her and be on his way to her house right now. The home phone began ringing for the third time, and as if a light globe had appeared above his head, she knew Jack had realised the predicament he was in. He stormed off into the kitchen.

  Charlotte was still on the couch, her energy levels sapped. She would do what she had to do to survive, but right now just staying awake and not vomiting was difficult enough, let alone dealing with this man who was unravelling before her eyes. Jack re-emerged from the kitchen, a large silver knife clutched in his trembling hand, knuckles fit to burst. ‘Get the fuck up,’ he snarled, standing above her and beckoning at her face with the knife. ‘I don’t give a fuck how sick you are, you’re the only chance I’ve got at getting out of this shit, so it’s time to walk.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Charlotte said defiantly. If she left this house, things would go downhill fast. ‘I haven’t got the strength, Jack. Please, can we just—’

  He swung his right hand across his body in a classic backhand-down-the-line motion and slapped her across the cheek. Her face recoiled from the blow as her head rebounded onto the cushion. Pain echoed though her head, her skin burning, the metallic taste of blood flooding her mouth. Charlotte winced, but she couldn’t let Jack know how much he had hurt her.

  ‘You will do exactly as I say,’ he spat, his face only inches from hers. ‘If you don’t wanna be number four, you better cut the crap.’

  He grabbed the blanket off her and flung it away like a magician revealing an empty cage. It floated to the floor majestically, the calm before the storm.

  Clutching her arm, he yanked at her, trying to get her onto her feet. Charlotte struggled against him, not only because she needed to stall him in any way she could, but also because she was in no shape to move quickly. Her head was spinning, the nausea convincing her body she was roiling on a tinnie in the middle of Bass Strait with a belly full of milk. In her desperation, she struck out, her hands raking at Jack’s face but falling short, her frantic fingers only managing to clutch onto his scarf, which unravelled from around his neck.

  ‘What the hell …?’ Charlotte was thrown by the deep-purple discoloration that ran below Jack’s jawline, almost to the curve of his ear.

  That bruis
e – that exact bruise – she had unfortunately seen too many times before.

  ‘Jack, I—’

  Face flushed with anger and embarrassment, Jack cut her short and lashed out again, grabbing her by the hair and pulling upwards.

  Charlotte had no time to react, to secure her wig. Feeling the cap that held it all in place rip from her skull, she braced herself.

  Time stood still as Jack continued to pull, her hair coming away in his hand, resistance broken. The entire wig tore clean away from Charlotte’s shaven head, leaving her sitting there, exposed – more naked than she had ever been in her entire life.

  She fought the urge, but couldn’t stop the tears falling from her eyes, dribbling down her cheeks. Charlotte felt shame now turn her face crimson – like Jack, and perhaps like Joseph, she too had been leading a life of lies, fooling the people closest to her. Now, in this maelstrom of emotions that was taking over both of their lives, she had suddenly and unexpectedly been exposed for the fraud she had become.

  Jack was clearly shocked. The anger in his face subsided momentarily, replaced by disbelief as he stood above her, the mop of red hair hanging in his grasp. He stared at her, perhaps only now really seeing her for the first time.

  ‘What the … fuck?’ He stumbled over the words, staring at her in confusion. Charlotte stared boldly back, her emotions bare on her tear-stained face. There was a break in the storm – a moment of clarity and calmness, an awareness of things bigger than either of them had imagined until that very moment.

  ‘I’m sick,’ Charlotte said, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. It seemed impossible that she could be nervous right now. She hadn’t had to do this with anyone yet – not her friends, colleagues or family. She was on unknown ground. ‘You’ve probably guessed it’s a bit more serious than the flu.’

  Jack was clearly torn between showing her some empathy and dealing with the situation he had found himself in. The clock was ticking.

  ‘What is it?’ he said. ‘Cancer?’

  She nodded, the strength of the word being said by someone she actually cared about a punch to her gut.

  ‘How bad?’ he asked, his tender side seeping through.

  ‘Bad,’ she replied. At the moment, the cancer was least of her worries, but if it meant she could bide a little more time, she would use it anyway she could. Come on, J.D. Where are you?

  Jack exhaled, and she could see his moral compass spinning wildly out of control. She watched him, searching for any opportunity to take him down – which in her condition would be difficult, but she would do it in a heartbeat.

  He stared at the wig hanging loosely in his hand, then he placed it back on her head roughly and askew, the auburn locks covering half her face. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, shaking his head. ‘But I’m in this too deep now – I have no option. This thing is bigger than you or me. We have to go now. Get up, please. I’ll be as accommodating as I can, but you know what I’m capable of, Charlotte – I’ll do what I have to do to achieve what I want.’

  She nodded, knowing his words were true. If he had killed all those people, then he would surely have no qualms about slicing her throat and leaving her on the lounge-room floor to bleed out.

  There was a brief stand-off as Charlotte considered her options. Then she stood, tentatively getting to her feet, wobbling like a ninety-five-year-old woman on stilts.

  ‘You’re sick, Jack, you know that, don’t you? I know what that bruise on your neck means. You need help. Real help, before it’s too late. We can get that for you. I can get that for you.’

  He stared right through her. ‘We’re well past that, Charlotte … Now walk.’

  Charlotte shuffled forward, Jack’s hand in the middle of her back, guiding her and shoving her at the same time. He kept the knife extended in his other hand, far enough away from her that even if she tried to grab it, he would have ample time to react.

  Passing the dining table, Charlotte saw her jigsaw puzzle, almost complete. Hours of work had been put into its construction – calm, soothing hours that had allowed her to recuperate both mentally and physically, giving her time out when she’d needed it most. Time that she had cherished, time that had allowed her to come to a better understanding of what a work–life balance really meant, a concept that had been foreign to her until recently. Only in sickness – and staring into the face of her mortality – had she realised just how much of her existence had been forfeited to work. Her dedication to serving her community had stolen from her the precious things that life was really about. The stolen kiss from a stranger, the smell of freshly cut grass, the beauty of a sunset on a warm evening, the blossom of love. The necessity to share the sparkle of life with another person – someone you truly connected with. All these things – and so much more – had been so scarce in Charlotte’s world, which had become a messy bundle of deadlines, arrests, statistics and reputations.

  What a pity it had only dawned on her now, when her life was in the hands of a suicidal, homicidal maniac.

  Jack saw her looking at the table and swept his hand across it, puzzle pieces cascading to the floor. Charlotte watched them fall, almost brought to tears.

  ‘Waste of fucking time anyway,’ Jack said, propelling her forward.

  They crept out to his vehicle – a flash-looking black Mercedes sedan. He pushed her against the side panel and held her while he reached inside and grabbed a bag from the front seat.

  ‘Arms behind your back – now,’ Jack said, the knife still pointed in her direction. Charlotte did as she was told, all the while her eyes trained on the street, hoping against hope to see a pair of headlights sweeping around the bend. She knew better than to fight against him at the moment – unless the opportunity arose, she made a pact with herself to sit tight and hopefully ride it out. The cancer revelation had softened Jack somewhat. He was a monster, but was he that much of a monster? That he could do to her what he had done to those other girls?

  He bound her wrists with thick electrical tape. ‘Play up, and I’ll tape your mouth too, understand?’

  Charlotte nodded, relieved he had shown at least a little mercy. It was a start.

  He grabbed her arm and shoved her into the back seat, laying her down on her back, her legs barely fitting in when he closed the door. The gravel crunched as he walked around the vehicle and got into the driver’s seat, then the engine started up with a roar.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, staring at the roof of the vehicle, the night sky visible through the windows.

  ‘To pay your brother a visit,’ Jack replied. ‘I think it’s about time we had a little chat – out of the confessional. Who better to bear witness to that little exchange than you? Oh, and I nearly forgot – there’s something else you and your brother need to see there, too.’

  Jack floored it, screeching out of her driveway and leaving her house behind. They turned left at the end of her street, heading towards the town centre. A car passed them, its headlights briefly illuminating the interior of Jack’s vehicle, and all Charlotte could do was wonder whether or not it was J.D., and whether her only chance at survival had just disappeared into the darkness behind her.

  CHAPTER 40

  J.D. swung into Charlotte’s street, his eyes darting, trying to make out shapes in the darkness. Something was wrong, he was sure of it – he had tried her mobile a heap of times after the call had been cut off, and got no response, which was unlike her. She hadn’t answered her home phone either, and as he pulled into her driveway he could see her front door was open, the light from inside spilling out.

  Uh-oh.

  He strode towards the door, ready for anything. Something wasn’t right about this whole situation – his gut instinct was screaming at him that Charlotte was in trouble, but how badly remained to be seen.

  ‘Hello?’ he said, sticking his head in the doorway. ‘Charlotte? It’s J.D. – are you there?’

  His voice echoed through the house. No response. Stepping into the lounge room
, his pulse quickened. There was no way Charlotte would’ve left the house like this – coffee table on its side, magazines and drink coasters strewn across the polished floor. Looking around, he saw the remains of her mobile phone, shattered in pieces on the floor.

  ‘What the hell?’

  He did a quick search of the house, each empty room leaving him more and more sickened.

  Grabbing his mobile, he was about to ring Dash when the phone sprang to life, buzzing in his hand. His boss had beaten him to it – but how?

  He answered. ‘Boss, it’s J.D. I’m at Charlotte’s, it’s—’

  ‘Save it for someone who cares, Darken,’ Dash said. ‘We’ve got another body – grab Charlotte, we need you both right now.’

  ‘But Boss, I—’

  ‘Are you hearing me or not? That prick Callaghan has done it again – this time he’s left her on the steps of the church. Get down there now – we haven’t got anyone on the scene yet, it’s only just been called in; uniform’s on their way.’

  J.D. was stunned. Another body?

  ‘Did you hear me, Darken?’

  ‘Yeah … But listen, Boss, I’ve got a bit of a situation myself. I’m at Charlotte’s – I was talking to her earlier and her phone suddenly went dead, then she wasn’t answering, which I thought was odd. Anyway, I came around here and … Well, she’s not here, her place is a mess and the front door was open when I got here. Looks like there’s been some kind of struggle, her mobile phone’s been smashed – I’m worried she’s been kidnapped.’

  ‘Fuck me!’ Dash cursed angrily. ‘That’s all we bloody need. Look, you get to this thing at the church – you can’t do anything for Charlotte standing there scratching your nuts. I’ll put a KALOF out on her vehicle just in case, and get a van around there as soon as I can to canvass the neighbours and see if anyone heard anything. Leave it with me. She’s probably just gone for a walk or something. Let me know what the go is when you get to the church. Fuck me, this town’s turned to shit!’