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

by Mark Tilbury

  Dixie walked over to Maddie and sat down next to her on the bed. ‘I can’t help you there, love. But I can help you learn to play the game and get through this, if that’s any help?’

  Maddie’s shoulders collapsed beneath the weight of the day. Her chest felt as if it was about to explode and spill the contents of her heart all over the floor. Every emotion, every secret, every last piece of her.

  Dixie held on to her as Maddie rocked back and forth on the bed. She cried for her mother, lost to a worthless civil war in Rwanda. She cried for her father, who would never see her again. And she cried for a life which was over before it had begun.

  After a few minutes, Dixie pulled away and rubbed Maddie’s arm. ‘At least that bastard never got a piece of you. That’s one up to you.’

  Maddie nodded.

  ‘Brother Tweezer has always been all right with me,’ Emily said.

  Dixie rounded on her. ‘Really? Maybe you can be Tweezer’s bitch one day.’

  ‘You don’t know me at all, do you? Just because I happen to believe in what we’re doing.’

  ‘Believe in what we’re doing? Do you really think we’re going to build a spaceship and go to Heaven?’

  Emily nodded.

  ‘Then you’re more stupid than I thought.’

  Maddie remembered Emily’s letter home. ‘What spaceship?’

  Dixie rolled her eyes. ‘Ebb tells everyone he’s building a spaceship ready for the Rapture. What he really means is he’s getting members to milk money from their families to pay for his lavish lifestyle. You’ve been up in his room, Maddie. Does it look the same as the rest of the farmhouse?’

  ‘It looks like a penthouse suite.’

  ‘He’ll ask you to get your parents to cough up, just like he asked Dozy over there to ask hers. How much did he ask for, Emily?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘A hundred grand?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  Dixie laughed. ‘You sound like one of those villains going “no comment” to the cops.’

  ‘Go to Hell. I know who I am and where I’m going.’

  ‘First she reckons she’s pregnant, now she thinks she’s going to Heaven to give birth to the new baby Jesus,’ Dixie said.

  ‘Mock me all you like, Dixie. But it’s you who will pay the price on Judgement Day. Not me. Not Sister Alice. You. You and all those non-believers out there who think it’s clever to mock Jesus.’

  ‘I’m not mocking Jesus. Just you.’

  ‘You’ve so got it coming to you, Dixie. You and your filthy mouth.’

  ‘And you’ve got a cuckoo in your nest.’

  Emily ignored her. ‘If you’ve got any sense, Maddie, you won’t listen to a word she says.’

  ‘Please don’t fight,’ Maddie said.

  Dixie glared at Emily. ‘She’s as batty as Ebb.’

  ‘I’ll report you to the Father if you don’t shut up, Dixie.’

  ‘Would that be the same upstanding Father who grows cannabis in the basement?’

  ‘He doesn’t.’

  ‘Yes, he does. Marcus sells it on the streets, along with a shitload of other drugs. Do you know what he calls it? The Crop of Christ. The Crop of fucking Christ? How sick is that.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ Emily said.

  ‘It’s good shit. I’ve had some. Me and Marcus sometimes sneak out to the barn and have a toke.’

  Emily sat up. ‘You’re a liar. Marcus doesn’t take drugs.’

  Dixie took a deep breath and continued. ‘Apparently the basement is massive. Marcus says Ebb’s got rows and rows of cannabis plants growing down there under artificial lights. There’s even a ventilation thingy to keep the plants healthy.’

  ‘That’s all just a great big fat lie. Marcus doesn’t take drugs, and he certainly doesn’t sell them. He goes to Oxford to spread the word of Jesus.’

  Dixie looked at Emily. ‘He’s a dealer, you stupid girl.’

  Emily stood up. ‘That’s a lie, Dixie. Take it back.’

  Dixie stood up and faced Emily. ‘It’s not a lie. He sells heroin, crack cocaine, weed, amphetamines. You name it, he sells it.’

  ‘You’ll rot in Hell for all your lies,’ Emily shrieked.

  ‘And you’ll get a slap in a minute.’

  ‘He wouldn’t sell drugs. It’s wrong.’

  Dixie laughed. ‘What do you care what he does?’

  Emily opened her mouth to speak.

  ‘Well?’ Dixie persisted.

  Emily sat back down on her bed. ‘God is watching you.’

  Dixie snorted. ‘Fuck God.’

  ‘You are so going to Hell, Dixie.’

  ‘I don’t care what you say, you silly little cow. Or anyone else for that matter. I know it’s true. Marcus helps Ebb cultivate it. As for all the other gear, Ebb gets it from the contacts I gave him.’

  ‘Contacts you gave him?’ Maddie said.

  Dixie nodded. ‘Dealers I used to know when I was on the game. I used to carry drugs for my pimp as well as whore for him. Ebb picked me up one day. I could tell straight away he wasn’t your run-of-the-mill punter. There was something odd about him. You get this kind of instinct for weirdos. You have to. It might save your life one day. Anyway, he came cruising along in this battered old Vauxhall Nova looking for a pickup.’

  ‘More lies,’ Emily muttered.

  Dixie ignored her and carried on. ‘We used to operate out of my pimp’s flat. So I took Ebb back there, but he told me he didn’t want sex. Well, like I said, I had a feeling about him. I mean, telling a whore you don’t want sex is like telling a barber you don’t want a haircut, right? So I’m thinking he’s going to ask me to do something sick. You wouldn’t believe what turns some of those perverts on. But no, not Ebb. He paid me fifty quid so he could show me Jesus.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ Emily said.

  Dixie continued. ‘I thought he was trying to trick me. Maybe “Jesus” was a code name for something else. Something bad. But I was intrigued. Interested. I hated what I’d become. I wanted out. I’d been selling myself since I was fourteen. Selling myself and taking drugs to numb the pain.’

  Maddie tried to digest Dixie’s words. ‘That’s terrible.’

  ‘You don’t know the half of it. Anyway, the more time I spent with Ebb, the more I realised he wasn’t just using me. The more he spoke, the more convinced I became that he was genuine.’

  Emily rubbed her stomach. ‘He is genuine.’

  ‘He told me he had somewhere safe I could go. Somewhere I would be protected forever. All I had to do was steal my pimp’s money and drugs. And trust me, the flat was swimming in the stuff. Plus all the gold chains, watches and medallions.’

  ‘You stole it all?’ Maddie asked.

  Dixie nodded. ‘We planned it for weeks, right there in the heart of Jazz’s shitty little empire. The day we made off with everything was the best day of my life.’

  ‘Stealing is also a sin,’ Emily said.

  Dixie turned on her. ‘Considering Ebb instigated the whole fucking thing, I won’t lie awake at night worrying about it.’

  Emily didn’t respond.

  ‘We took off with the best part of a hundred grand, bags of cocaine and weed, gold, the lot.’

  ‘Liar.’

  Dixie ignored her. ‘On the day we did him over, he was waiting to do a huge drugs deal. Ebb hid under the bed and waited for him to come home. Ebb had a gun and a hunting knife. As soon as Jazz opened the safe, Ebb came out from under the bed and pointed the gun right at his head. Jazz’s face was a picture. He couldn’t have looked more surprised if an alien had landed a spaceship in the middle of the flat and invited Jazz to tea.’

  Maddie tried to digest what Dixie was telling her. It was like trying to digest a fifty-course meal.

  Dixie took a deep breath and continued. ‘If it wasn’t so scary, it would’ve been funny. This little bald fat dude pointing a gun at the man who’d made my life a misery for longer than I could r
emember. Jazz opened his gob to say something and Ebb blew half of his face away. Just like that. Poof. Jazz’s head exploded. There was blood and bits of brain all over the wall. He fell to the floor, twitched a few times, and that was the end of Jazz.’

  ‘She’s making it up,’ Emily said.

  ‘We had all the money in the safe,’ Dixie said. ‘Jewellery. Drugs. Everything. We stuffed it all into two massive holdalls and walked out of that flat as calm as you like.’

  Maddie looked at the floor. What did you say to something like that? Congratulations, it pays to plan?

  ‘Just before we left, Ebb shot Jazz another five times. Then he knelt down by his side and prayed for his soul.’

  Maddie shook her head slowly.

  ‘I puked on the way back to the farm. I was both excited and scared witless. For the first time since I was a kid, I was free. Free of Jazz. Free of punters. Free of beatings. Free of that flat. How was I to know that within a month I’d end up wishing to Christ I was back at that flat and working the streets?’

  The lights went out. Darkness wrapped itself around Maddie like a thick black fog.

  ‘Try and get some rest,’ Dixie said. ‘It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.’

  ‘Especially for sinners,’ Emily mumbled.

  Dixie sighed. ‘Especially for the deluded.’

  Chapter twenty-seven

  Ebb unlocked the basement door and turned to Marcus. ‘Be on your guard.’

  Marcus wrapped a finger around the trigger. ‘Yes, Father.’

  Ebb took a deep breath and let it out through clenched teeth. ‘He may be dangerous, particularly if he’s wounded.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘That’s not to say I want you turning him into a colander if he dares to move. Just be attentive.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  Ebb noticed a nasty twitch tugging at the corner of Marcus’s left eye. The man seemed to be winking at him in a most unsavoury manner; hardly conducive to trust. He opened the basement door, making a mental note to keep a careful eye on his new deputy. Tics could indicate an attempt by Satan to gain entry into a body.

  Ebb took a few steps down into the basement. Tweezer was lit up beneath the overhead lights suspended on chains above the cannabis plants. He sat with his back against the wall. One of his legs was splayed out at a crazy angle. Ebb thought Tweezer looked like an image drawn from a child’s imagination.

  Ebb stopped halfway down the steps and turned to face Marcus. ‘Keep the gun trained on him at all times.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘And please remember he is no longer a member of The Sons and Daughters of Salvation.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘He is an enemy of The Sons and Daughters of Salvation, and therefore a prisoner. First thing tomorrow I shall instruct Brother Bubba to build a cross for him.’

  Marcus’s left eye convulsed with twitches. ‘Yes, Father.’

  Ebb looked away. That damned eye was mesmerising him. ‘We’ll need to cancel all street operations for the time being. Once Tweezer is dealt with, I want you back up that tower. The Infiltrator might well call in his cronies. The farm can stay in lockdown until we’ve got ourselves on an even keel.’

  ‘But I—’

  Ebb flapped a hand and moved down a few steps. ‘Tweezer?’

  Tweezer regarded Ebb with his good eye. The other one looked like an overripe plum. He mumbled something unintelligible and waved an arm in the air.

  Ebb turned to Marcus. ‘Remember that Satan is within him. Don’t be fooled by his pitiful pleas.’

  ‘My leg’s ba-roke,’ Tweezer said, the word snapped in two by a sob.

  Ebb faced the man who had so savagely betrayed his trust. The Judas Iscariot of The Sons and Daughters of Salvation. ‘Broken, my eye. You’ve probably just sprained your ankle.’

  Tweezer didn’t agree. ‘It’s ba-roke.’

  Ebb moved down another few steps. ’ I’ll tell you what you’ve broken, Pixie-pea. You’ve broken your pledge to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation. How’s about that for getting yourself bowled out for a duck?’

  ‘I didn’t—’

  Ebb held up a hand. ‘Save your lies.’

  ‘I’m not lying, Fa-ther.’

  ‘You went up to my room. Guilty or not guilty?’

  ‘I only—’

  ‘Guilty or not guilty?’

  Tweezer looked away. ‘Guilty, Father.’

  ‘You then tried to force yourself on Madeline. Guilty or not guilty?’

  ‘Not guilty, Father. She enticed me.’

  Ebb produced the bottle of acid from the pocket of his robe. ‘Perhaps the holy water shall tell us the truth?’

  Tweezer attempted to burrow through the stone wall with his back. ‘No, Father. Please. I haven’t done nothing.’

  Ebb reached the bottom of the steps and uncapped the bottle. He drew the last of the acid into the dropper and squeezed the contents onto Tweezer’s bare foot. The foot which was joined onto the ba-roken leg. He then threw the bottle at Tweezer’s head. Fortunately for Tweezer, Ebb’s aim was limited by exhaustion. It smashed on the wall behind him.

  ‘Be gone, Satan.’ Ebb commanded.

  Tweezer screamed. He writhed and bucked on the floor like an enthusiastic student of breakdancing. His head banged against the stone wall. Snot bubbled from his nose. His lips were peeled back in a rictus grin. He looked as if he might be on the verge of turning into a rabid animal. Ebb had once researched the phenomena of shape-shifting, and although he didn’t particularly subscribe to the notion, he did concede that anything was possible whilst under the spell of a demon. Particularly the kind of demon proclaiming squatters’ rights in Tweezer right now.

  Ebb turned to Marcus. ‘See how Satan resists?’

  Marcus nodded and trained the gun on Tweezer.

  Ebb stepped back as Tweezer attempted to shape-shift into a snake and slither across the floor. ‘I command you to keep still, or Brother Marcus will shoot you. Do you understand?’

  Tweezer stopped writhing. His good eye narrowed to the kind of slit you might see in a High Noon Western showdown. Ebb didn’t trust that eye. He checked Tweezer’s mouth for signs of a forked tongue. ‘What are you?’

  ‘I don’t understand, Father.’ The words came out flat and compressed. Pitiful, even.

  Ebb wasn’t fooled. ‘Are you a snake?’

  Tweezer shook his head. His good eye swivelled from Ebb to Marcus. ‘I’m just me, Father.’

  Ebb laughed. ‘That’s what I fear most. Perhaps I should fetch Max to flush you out.’

  ‘No, Father. Please.’

  Ebb turned his back on him. He wasn’t about to let Satan engage him in a war of words. ‘Come down here, Brother Marcus.’

  Marcus walked down the steps, keeping the gun trained on Tweezer. When he reached the bottom, Ebb took the gun off him. He aimed it at Tweezer’s uninjured leg and pulled the trigger.

  The shot echoed around the basement walls. Tweezer screamed and arched his back. Blood blossomed like a liquid rose from a ragged hole just above his kneecap. He huffed and puffed on the floor as though he was making ready to visit the Three Little Piggies.

  Ebb lowered the rifle and addressed Marcus. ‘Fetch Max and bring her down here.’

  Marcus bowed his head. ‘Yes, Father.’

  Ebb turned back to Tweezer. ‘What do you think about Brother Marcus taking over your role as my second-in-command?’

  Tweezer clutched his wounded leg and panted like Max in the midday sun. ‘That fucking drug addict.’

  Ebb smiled. ‘Said the rapist.’

  ‘I never raped no one.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘And why was that? Did you suddenly see the light?’

  Ebb watched Tweezer’s lips try to wring an answer from his addled brain. ‘Or perhaps Madeline spurned your unwanted advances by kicking you in the face.’

  Tweezer wiped his mouth. His hair was pas
ted to his head in greasy strips. ‘She seduced me.’

  ‘Why would she want to seduce you?’

  Tweezer wiped blood from his leg and pawed the wound. ‘I’ve no idea, Father.’

  ‘You’re hardly a catch.’

  Tweezer shook his head. Blood oozed between his fingers. ‘She deceived me, Father. Just like she’s deceiving you now.’

  Ebb smiled. ‘Perhaps you ought to put your finger in the wound. Like the little Dutch boy who stuck his finger in the dyke.’

  Tweezer regarded Ebb with an eye stoked with malice. ‘Huh?’

  Ebb laughed. ‘That’s dyke as in dam, not a lesbian.’

  Tweezer looked away and focused on his bleeding leg.

  Ebb pointed the rifle at him. ‘I suggest you speak the truth from now on if you want to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, Pixie-pea.’

  Tweezer snarled and raised his muzzle. ‘Fuck you.’

  Ebb took a step back. ‘I wondered when Satan would announce himself.’

  ‘You’re fucking nuts.’

  Ebb aimed the rifle at Tweezer’s head. ‘Don’t cast stones at me, Pixie-pea. I’m just the messenger.’

  Tweezer clawed at his leg. ‘I’m sorry, Father. It’s just I’m in such pain.’

  Ebb studied Tweezer’s good eye for signs of Satan. The man was showing distinct signs of schizophrenia. ‘Jesus suffered upon the cross for you, Brother Tweezer.’

  ‘I know, Father.’

  ‘But do you? Do you really?’

  Tweezer bowed his head. ‘I know Jesus suffered for me, Father.’

  ‘Actions speak louder than words through a bullhorn, my friend. And your actions tell me you regard Jesus’s suffering to be banal.’

  ‘That’s not true, Father. I’ve done everything you ever asked of me. Everything. I even killed Brother Gerald for you.’

  Ebb regarded Tweezer as if the man had taken leave of his senses. ‘For me?’

  ‘Yes, Father. You said—’

  ‘I hope you’re aware that God is watching you?’

  ‘Yes, Father. But—’

  ‘Brother Gerald was a sinner. Just like you are. And sinners must be punished. The Bible says so. The Scriptures say so. And Jesus Christ Himself says so. I did not order Brother Gerald’s execution, the Lord Jesus Christ ordered it. Fact!’