The Devil's Reflection

by Colin Davy

  When Keith appeared on the make-shift pulpit, he spent several minutes speaking warmly about Debbie’s faith and latterly, her generous gift. “We have a crisis of funding, and I call upon you all to follow her example.”

  Hmm … that could have been rephrased, but his words were generally well-chosen and powerful, and he could see why the man had amassed his following. Finally, he looked over the assembled congregation. “We must pull together in these sad times,” Keith continued. “Challenges come and go, but we must face them together. Arguing among ourselves in unforgivable.”

  When he looked towards them, Gary wondered if Gail had warned the congregation this interloper had been appointed Maria’s unofficial investigator. Tough luck, he thought, you seem like a harmless old codger, Keith, but appearances can be deceptive. Not that he thought for a minute he’d unravel anything - it would be a childishly-executed fraud if he could pick it up. But he was glad when the ceremony ended and they followed the congregation back into the open air.

  Maria wasn’t in a talkative mood and he decided to let her have a period of peaceful contemplation. Keith however, had no such qualms and took her to one side for a chat. No doubt one of sympathy followed by a rattle of the collection box. After giving a perfunctory nod of farewell, he left her, no doubt searching for another of the congregation to harass. “What do you want me to do today, Maria?” he asked. “Point out the guilty party?”

  She sighed. “Nothing,” she said. “Not today, it’s not the right time.”

  He agreed, and within minutes they were in the car and heading towards Maria’s house. “Who keeps the books for the group?” he asked.

  She glanced up. “I think John does,” she said.

  He took a long breath. “Where was he today?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “He seldom misses communion. Why do you ask?” She found it hard to mask her obvious curiosity but he shook his head quickly.

  “No real reason,” he said. “It was low-key today but I suppose that’s to be expected.” After a quick sideways glance, he brought up the subject of their detour. “How long will you need to fetch your stuff?”

  “Only a couple of minutes,” she said. “But it includes personal items, so you can wait outside while I collect them.”

  That sounded like an instruction rather than a suggestion. “Fair enough,” he said.

  Arriving at the flat, he parked outside and waited as she skipped from the car to hurry inside. Hearing a car draw up behind, he looked around to see a black BMW. The driver, a large man, looked familiar, but only when he climbed from the car and stood to his full height, did he recognise John Wemyss.

  Strange, he thought, had he come to offer sympathy to Maria? Climbing from his car, Gary walked over. “Hi,” he said.

  The man frowned and moved closer.

  “Were you following us?” Gary asked.

  The man nodded. “I missed communion, but I saw you drive away. So, yes, I followed you.”

  “Do you want Maria?” he asked. “She won’t be long.”

  “No,” he said. “I want to talk to you.” He looked far from friendly. Wearing a blue t-shirt that showed his large biceps to best effect, and a pair of shorts with an Aberdeen FC crest emblazoned on the front, he leaned back and stared fiercely. A man who did look to be made from girders.

  Still curious, Gary walked closer. “What do you want?”

  “Are you proud of yourself?” he asked.

  Gary detected antagonism and he backed away. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Should I be?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you think sexually assaulting a woman in her own flat is something to be proud of?” John moved a step closer. “Personally, I’d say it isn’t.”

  “What are you on about?”

  John’s eyes hardened. “Don’t lie, you cowardly bastard. Gail’s told us all about it.”

  The first flicker of anger went through Gary. “Who’s us and what’s it?”

  The reply seemed to take John by surprise, but his jaw tensed. “Us,” he said. “The people in the congregation, and the ‘it’ is the fact you went to Gail’s flat and touched her up. Did you hope she’d keep quiet?”

  “Gail?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Gail, the girl you assaulted on Friday.”

  “I did no such thing, John.”

  The man gave a look of contempt. “You’re saying you didn’t go to her flat on Friday?”

  “She invited me round,” he said. “We spoke about Debbie’s death, but I never touched her.”

  “Ah!” he said, and a strange smile appeared on his face. “Because there were no witnesses you thought you’d get away with it.”

  Gary tried not to sound angry, but he felt his face warming. “I’m getting away with nothing because there’s nothing to get away with. There’s no evidence whatsoever, there can’t be.”

  He nodded slowly. “As I thought,” he said. “Deny it all, and blame the girl. She already feels guilty because she wore the wrong clothing.” His voice was gradually hardened, as if he were working himself up. “Listen up, you cunt, you may think you can smooth-talk your way out of it with the police, but the people who matter know the truth. Admit it, and take your punishment.” He rubbed the misshapen knuckles on his right hand with undisguised relish.

  “What have the police to do with it?”

  “She reported it to them,” John said. “The police were encouraging her to press charges but with all the admin and the embarrassment, she withdrew them. But if you think you’re getting away with it, think again.”

  “You listen up for a minute,” he said. “I didn’t touch the girl. Don’t you understand that.”

  “No.”

  When John’s voice reverberated around the road, Gary wondered if the neighbours were getting an earful. “You’re wrong,” he said. “Totally wrong.”

  That seemed to anger him even more. Leaning closer, he pushed Gary backwards with his open hands. “Don’t tell me I’m wrong, you sick pervert. The poor lassie blamed herself for leading you on. She may look inviting with her tits on show, but that’s no excuse for what you did, you piece of shite.” His eyes flashed and he pushed again with his hands, harder this time. “I’m going to drag you back and make you apologise on your bended knees,”

  Gary felt his temper flare. “Don’t talk daft, you fat, Scotch cunt.”

  John gave an easy smile but moved forward. “I’m not a fat Scotch cunt, I’m a fat Scottish cunt, and I’m going to kick your arse.”

  Gary tensed. The man was big but he was overweight, and that could be his downfall. At worst, he could always run away. but why should he? Standing his ground, he tried to talk softly. “John,” he said softly. “You’re making a-”

  The man grabbed at him, and Gary ducked away, narrowing avoiding the clutching hand. His only hope now lay in the Maddison method of self-defence - catching his opponent by surprise and hitting him when he didn’t expect it. “John,” he said. “Let’s talk this-” He launched a punch at the big man’s face, but when John danced back on his toes, the punch missed. John’s didn’t and Gary doubled up as a hammer blow bounced off his ribs. Staggering back, he tried to suck in air but he couldn’t breathe. Shit! This man was good. The next blow from John glanced off his cheekbone but the force sent him to the ground. Although he tried to roll away, John’s shoe wedged him firmly in place. “See how you like it now,” he said, as he pulled his leg away to deliver a kick.

  Gary felt as if his ribs were on fire, but when he finally managed to suck in air, he looked up to see John being wrestled away. “Leave him be,“ Maria cried as she pulled at the man’s arm. “Stop it.” When he tried to push her gently away, she punched him as hard as she could in the stomach.

  Although he barely moved, the psychological shock was clear. “Why?” he asked. “Why are you defending him, Maria?”

  “Because he’s done nothing, you big useless o
atcake,” she said. “Now piss off and leave us alone, before I call the police and have you arrested.”

  “But …”

  “No buts,” she said. “Drive away before I hit you again.”

  The threat worked. He backed away, seemingly wary of more blows, but before reaching his car, he looked down at Gary. “Ah, yer no worth the effort,” he said softly, before moving quickly to his vehicle and jumping inside.

  By the time he drove away. Maria had pulled Gary to a sitting position. “Where does it hurt?” she asked.

  “Everywhere,” he said, before a coughing fit took over. “Christ, it hurts.” But when the coughing stopped, he began to puke. What remained of his breakfast spattered her black shirt with small white droplets. “Sorry,” he gasped.

  She responded by hugging him tightly, ignoring the specks of vomit. “Arrgh!” When he cried out in pain, she released him quickly. “I’ll take you indoors,” she said. “We’ll both clean up.”

  With her help, he struggled to his feet and he managed to stagger to the front door. In the bedroom, she lowered him gently to the bed and sat beside him. “I’ll take your shirt off,” she said. “And assess the damage while you give me a full explanation of what you’ve been doing. Is that a deal?”

  He nodded, and flinched as she undid his shirt and pulled it gently away.

  “Don’t be a big baby,” she said, before throwing the shirt to the floor and feeling his side with her fingertips. Although her touch was tender, his ribs complained. When she finished, she leaned back and looked into his eyes. “OK, Gary, what’s been going on? Tell me the whole truth.”

  Chapter Eighteen.

  “You’re a fool,” she said after listening to a brief account of his meeting with Gail and her subsequent allegations. “Didn’t you ask yourself for even a few seconds why Gail suddenly saw you as the font of all wisdom, the man to solve her problems? You hardly knew her and she hardly knew you.”

  True, he thought, he’d been a fool, there was no arguing with that, but wasn’t that what Maria was guilty of; seeing him as her superman too? But it probably wasn’t the time to point that out. She’d taken his account as being the truth without the slightest doubt. Unearned admiration had its good sides too.

  “If you’d known her,” she said. “You’d have realised she never dresses provocatively. That should have roused your suspicions.”

  He could only nod in reluctant agreement. Pointing out he hardly knew her wouldn’t help.

  “Should you be out on your own?” she continued. “You managed to be a fool twice over.”

  “Uh? Why twice?” When he tried to lift himself up, a sharp pain from his ribs made him grimace.

  “Easy,” she said, pressing him down gently with her palms. “John Wemyss was a very useful amateur boxer in his day,” she said. “Provoking him probably wasn’t a good move for your looks.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, slowly lowering himself back down. “I’ve no intention of challenging him to a re-match, but I didn’t provoke him, he was already steaming.”

  “You could be right,” she said. “It seems he’s designated himself as Gail’s protector in a sort of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ scenario.”

  “Very apt.”

  She smiled. “And she is a beauty, isn’t she?”

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, come on, Gary, you know she is. How gormless are you trying to be? As well as being beautiful, she’s an embittered woman with a grudge and you walked straight into the consequences.” She sighed. “But you need a little nursing help before we discuss your stupidity further.” Undoing her black shirt with no sign of embarrassment, she carried it next door and he heard the tap start to run. “What are you …” Another stab of pain from his ribs stopped him continuing and he sagged back against the sheets to take long and painful breaths.

  She had a point about his stupidity. It was no use squealing in righteous indignation about Gail’s tactics. In a way, he admired the woman. After failing to recruit him, she’d cleverly ruined his reputation, and more importantly his credibility. Not just with the congregation, but with the police too.

  When he heard a clinking noise from the kitchen, he decided Maria must have walked there to take ice-cubes from the fridge. When she returned a few seconds later, she carried a small muslin bag and dropped onto the bed beside him. “I washed off my shirt,” she said. “Before it stained. It looks like you’d done something unmentionable over it.” Her tone was light but firm. She wore only a thin bra above her skirt and he smelled the light aroma of her warm body as she leaned over and placed her fingers on his chest. A small bead of sweat balanced precariously on her throat and he waited for it to drip onto him.

  Very gently, she ran her fingers over his chest and down to the sides. The sweat bead dripped onto his chest and he watched fascinated as she rubbed it unknowingly onto him. Although he tensed from the touch of her fingers, it was more from anticipation that actual pain. It was pleasantly stimulating and the ache from his side had already eased. After rubbing along his ribs, she nodded her satisfaction. “It’s probably only bruising, you big baby,” she whispered. “I’ll put this ice-bag on the spot to cut down the swelling, but one of your ribs might be cracked, so strenuous activity of any sort is out for the time being.”

  “What sort had you in mind?”

  Her eyes widened but she shook her head. “Don’t be childish,” she said. “I was thinking of driving. Nothing else.”

  “Pity. Does that mean, we’ll have to stay here overnight?”

  She shook her head again. “My sofa’s too short and uncomfortable for you. I haven’t driven for a while but I still have my licence and assume I’m insured to drive your car?”

  “With my permission,” he said.

  “Good, it will save the taxi fare.” When she gave a smile, he saw a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Remember,” she said. “Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  “Celibacy doesn’t.”

  After leaning closer, she kissed him softly on the lips. He felt the soft caress of her tongue and the slippery warmth of her breasts as they pressed firmly against him. Before he could respond, she moved her lips away, and when he tried to follow, the sharp pain almost paralysed him.

  “Softly,” she whispered. “You’re an invalid for now.”

  Admitting defeat, he winced just once as she applied the bag of ice to his side. “Hold it there,” she said. “Give it five minutes and see if it feels better.”

  “What about my face?” he asked.

  She stroked his cheek gently. “We won’t put ice on that,” she said with a smile. “The swelling will stop you being targeted by attractive women.”

  Was she joking? It was hard to tell. “I could go and see Gail,” he said. “Sort it out once and for all.”

  She frowned fiercely. “No,” she said. “That’s the last thing you should do, you’ve already caused enough damage.”

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t serious, but she’s been clever.”

  “Clever?” she asked. “What’s clever about making up allegations?”

  “I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt,” he said. “I’m assuming it’s not just bile on her part. For some reason, she believes I’m a danger to her.”

  She screwed up her nose in doubt. “I don’t see your reasoning,” she said.

  “If she’s hiding something and she thinks I’m checking on her, she might be taking precautions.”

  “How?”

  “By making anything I say automatically discredited. Did you tell her I have superhuman powers?”

  She frowned “Behave!”

  “I am doing,” he said. “What did you tell her?”

  “Not much,” she said. “We don’t talk much if we can help it.” She sighed and looked away. “Debs always thought my prophesies were remarkable and she knew I saw great potential in you.”

  “She might have told Gail?”

  “It’s possible,” she said. “Y
ou don’t really think she was worried by that?”

  When he said nothing, she leaned closer. “You do” she said. “Do you think she murdered Debs?”

  “It’s a possibility,” he said. “Didn’t you think so?”

  “I did but …” Putting her hands flat on his chest as if to hold him down, she looked deeply into his eyes. Although he liked the warm touch of her hands, he guessed he wouldn’t like what she was about to say. “Don’t let hatred consume you, Gary,” she said. “That’s what I was doing, but I prayed for help and I received it.”

  “Turn the other cheek, you mean.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Easy to say when it’s not your cheek that’s bruised, or your reputation in tatters. The only cheek I’m turning to her is my arse-cheek,” he said. He may have respect for her cleverness, but he didn’t have to like it.

  “No, Gary, she loved Debs too, I’m sure of it. She’s lashing out because of her misdirected love. Don’t assume the worst in everyone. We’re all sinners. Let her grieve for Debs in her own way.”

  He nodded, as if he agreed, but he’d reserve judgement. And while he reserved judgement, he’d try some proper investigating. He was sure he hadn’t acquired intuitive skills as Maria believed, but he was sure Gail was hiding something. Why else would she run to the police and make up a story? It made no sense otherwise. And she’d set John on him too. Whether it was fair or not, he owed her some pay-back. Mr Nice-Guy Maddison had just left town.

  But for all his new ambitions, he was no further forward. In fact, having almost hospitalised himself, he’d gained only a new determination. Where was Gail that Sunday night? Did she have a plausible alibi? Could she have stayed at the Duncan docks that Sunday evening rather than just dropping Gail off? He could eliminate that by checking with Tom Maddison, his namesake, and by quizzing William more intelligently. How? By asking sensible questions.

  If his questioning came to nothing, he may as well give up. Hanging around her flat would be suicidal, so proving her presence at the docks was his first and only throw of the dice. He wouldn’t tell Maria unless he came up with something useful.