A Weaving of Ancient Evil

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A Weaving of Ancient Evil Page 19

by SIMS, MAYNARD


  “How long will I have with him? Be honest with me, at least.”

  Brother Simon hesitated. He had known, as did Romodon, that this man was not like many they had dealt with. Many took what they were told at face value. So desperate were they for their loved ones to be returned to them that they were blinded to reality. Stock was made of harder material. Perhaps, Romodon had told Simon one night, perhaps it was because he carried the burden of guilt for his son’s death. “With all our subjects,” Romodon had said. “You have to ask yourself, why they want our services. What is it that they hope to gain?”

  Simon wondered if what Stock wanted was redemption. Release from twenty years of painful guilt.

  “Your wife we can offer no more than six months. I am sorry. Your son? No more than that. Again I am sorry it cannot be longer.”

  Stock bowed his head. It was more time that he had expected. More than he needed. “I accept that. It’s worth it to me. And…it’s been twenty years.”

  Simon nodded. “The son you receive will be as he was when he passed over. You were outlining your terms. If we cannot have the girl…”

  “My other son. Raymond. He’s young enough, fit, healthy. Lives an outdoor life, even if he drinks and smokes too much. He won’t fit the same purpose as Paula, but then you never intended for her to join you did you?”

  Simon smiled, the flesh of his face creasing like a well-used bed sheet. “We will have a use for the soul of a healthy enough man.”

  Stock smiled. “He’s here tonight. By special invitation.”

  Phil Ryker looked at his watch. Anders had been gone a long time. He doubted there had been any trouble kicking out some well fed socialites taking drugs. Sure, Anders might have roughed them up a little, but he would have got them out of the house easily enough. What worried Ryker was whether it had been done with sufficient discretion.

  He dialled the number he had on his company cell phone and listened as the voicemail kicked in for the ninth or tenth time. Anders voice sounded uncertain, as if he was reciting the simple phrase about leaving a message. Ryker cut the connection without speaking.

  The party was still going strong, although quite a few people had left. There was still a need for all the exits to be secure and the guests to be escorted to their cars, He arranged cover on the door of the house and went in search of Anders.

  Inside the house the noise was louder than he had anticipated. Several people were clearly drunk, while others were still determined to dance until they dropped. The band was playing, although he heard the singer give notice that the end was near.

  Ryker knew which part of the house Anders had been directed to, and he headed that way. It wasn’t long before he bumped, literally, into Martin Devereaux.

  “Watch where you’re…oh, it’s you.”

  “Apologies, Mr. Devereaux.”

  “I thought you were covering the door. Is everything in order?” Devereaux’s eyes darted from side to side as he spoke, looking for important people he didn’t want to ignore.

  “All normal. I’m just doing an internal sweep. Checking bathrooms and bedrooms, making sure no one has extended their invitation in ways it wasn’t intended.”

  Devereaux allowed a look of distaste pass over his face, before his carefully constructed façade of sophistication was restored. “I’m not sure what sort of parties you’re used to attending, Ryker, but my guests know how to behave.”

  Ryker nodded. “Of course. Excuse me, but I’m off to check on the well behaved guests who were snorting cocaine earlier,”

  He walked off before Devereaux could splutter a response.

  As he began to climb the stairs he glanced back, just in time to see Caroline Devereaux standing next to her husband.

  Caroline was annoyed, if her body language was anything to go by. “Have you seen Paula yet?”

  Devereaux looked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language. He was still smarting from his conversation with Ryker. “What? No, I guess she’s off doing whatever spoiled eighteen year olds do these days.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  “I wish I could remember.”

  Caroline grabbed his arm and pulled him into a corner so they wouldn’t be overheard. “There are three of those sisters with mother.”

  “And your master plan of getting your brother on board failed at the first hurdle.”

  “He’s always been a disappointment,” Caroline said, her voice full of as much venom as she could muster.

  “So where do you think Paula is?”

  “Someone said they’d seen her with that Rulski kid.”

  Devereaux nodded approvingly. “That’s good. His father has a lot of influence, he could help business.”

  Caroline crinkled her nose in despair. “Martin, they won’t be swapping study tips. What do you think they will be doing?”

  “But…she’s just a…”

  “She’s not a kid any more. Wake up and look at her. She’s all grown up.”

  Devereaux smiled and nodded at some people who were walking past. “I’ll have to circulate. People are leaving.”

  “I’m going up to see mother. It’s about time someone took control around here. Father might be taken in by these fake holy rollers but I’m not. Dr Cooperman says people often seemingly improve, even appear to recover, for a period of time before…” Martin touched her cheek in a gesture of genuine affection. “Father seems to think the Church is saving her life but all they’re doing is fooling her into believing there’s hope.”

  “Hope’s not such a bad thing.”

  Caroline walked away from him. “I’m going upstairs. Can you send someone to find Paula?”

  Ray positioned himself between Paula and the two women. They were alert, like animals scenting prey.

  “We’re here to take the girl to her grandfather. That’s all.”

  “Now why do I doubt that?” Ray said.

  The two women exchanged glances and then moved away from one another. One advanced towards Ray and Paula while the other began to circle around and behind them.

  “Stay close to me,” Ray whispered. Paula responded with a firm grip on his arm.

  Ray had been in several fights during his life. Working near the docks there were often sailors ashore for a few hours who thought the best way to let off a bit of steam was to beat up the local hippie types. When they saw how large Ray was many of them backed off, realizing their error. The more foolhardy types saw it as a challenge and ploughed on through.

  Ray had developed a strategy that had held him in good stead. Hit first and hit hard.

  He launched himself at the woman to his right. She wasn’t expecting an attack and she stumbled backwards. She was close to the edge of the pool from where she had recently risen. Her footing was fragile and the tiles were wet. Ray took hold of her robe, pulled then pushed, and the woman was falling into the water, arms flailing in a futile attempt to stop.

  When she hit the surface and disappeared beneath the clear water, Ray had already turned to face the second woman. She had hold of Paula’s dress.

  “Let her go,” Ray said, as menacingly as he could muster.

  “I have my instructions. I’m taking her to her grandfather.”

  Ray closed the gap between them in four long strides.

  “She’s my niece. This is her birthday party. She owes me a dance.”

  Before anyone could act, Paula whirled round, punched the woman hard in the face and pulled herself from her grasp. The woman held her hands to her nose, from which blood was gushing. “I think it’s broken.”

  “This dress cost more than you’d make in a year, so hands off.” Paula was indignant, and sounded tough, but Ray could see the fear in her eyes.

  “Who sent you?” Ray said to the woman. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other woman had climbed out of the pool and was standing quite still, as if waiting instructions.

  “They’re sisters from the Church,” Paula said. “Ripping grand
dad off with fake medicines for grandma.”

  “Dr Romodon is acting for Mr. Stock, senior, in the medical care of his wife.”

  “For now,” Ray said.

  As if a signal had been given both women ran at Ray. One leapt at his face, while the other aimed for his legs.

  Ray was strong. The one at his legs tried to bring him down, but he moved his legs apart and held firm. He managed to bring a knee up and connect squarely with her jaw. She crumpled like a spent paper tissue.

  The one at his face was tenacious. She hooked her nails into his cheek and drew blood. Ray put both hands on her waist, lifted her effortlessly into the air and offered her to Paula. She seemed to consider what to do, then hit the woman with a solid left hook in the kidneys. The woman exhaled air with the pain, and at the same time Ray let her go. She fell like damp towel to the tiled floor.

  Ray took Paula’s hand. “Come on. Time to visit my father I think and find out what’s really going on.”

  Phil Ryker met Caroline on the first floor landing outside Marlene Stock’s room.

  “What are you doing here?” Caroline demanded.

  Ryker shrugged. “I came looking for Anders, one of my security men.”

  “Him,” Caroline said. “I caught him trying to look down my dress earlier.”

  Ryker smiled. “And who can blame him?”

  Caroline looked as if she was going to explode with fury. “Are you going to stand there insulting me or are you going to kiss me?”

  Ryker took a step forwards, put one arm round her waist, and drew her to him. The kiss was long and practiced. When it was over, Caroline said. “That’s better. I’ve wanted to do that all evening.”

  “Not quite what your fancy guests would approve of?”

  “Who cares? Did you find Anders?”

  Ryker looked concerned. “No.”

  He had searched the whole part of the house where Anders had been sent. There were three bathrooms that weren’t part of a bedroom suite, and Ryker had looked in all of them. They were all empty and although one of them looked as if it had been cleaned and tidied very recently there was no sign Anders, or anyone, had been in there.

  Anders wasn’t answering his cell, which was unusual. All Ryker’s men had identical cell phones, each of them with the key numbers programmed in as speed dials. Anders was paranoid about making sure his had a full battery and he was always deleting old message threads and call logs, to “keep the phone fresh.”

  Once he had looked everywhere obvious, Ryker began to search for Anders in the less obvious places. Anders wasn’t a man that would go off with a female guest, not while on duty. And he wasn’t the type of man to miss out on flexing his muscle to throw out people of the house when he had been given instructions.

  Ryker was at a loss, and he didn’t like it. He needed to be in control. It was what made him so good at his job, and what gave his life order and purpose.

  “He’s probably sneaked out for a smoke,” Caroline said.

  Ryker shook his head. “No, he’s been gone too long. Anyway, he may be a pain in the butt, but he’s professional. He wouldn’t just slope off.”

  “You’re worried aren’t you?” Caroline couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

  Ryker hesitated.

  “Go on,” Caroline said. “Nothing you say will shock me after a life in this family.”

  “I’m loyal to your father, you know that.”

  “Of course, insanely loyal.”

  “I don’t like seeing him get set up like he is.”

  Caroline sounded excited. “You think they’re frauds too?”

  “Don’t mention it to Mr. Stock, but I did some undercover work when he started to bring those people into the house. The Church doesn’t exist, at least not as a physical building or organization that anyone can join. From what I’ve found out, it’s more a kind of secret society.”

  “You’re scaring me. You make it sound sinister.”

  “And Dr Romodon? There’s no history of him. Sure, there’s people with similar names on FaceBook and LinkedIn, and other social media sites, but no doctor, of whatever type he claims to be. None that has qualified to practice medicine, even the West Coast quackery types.”

  “I don’t see why father places so much trust in him.”

  “Desperate to see your mother get better I suppose. Willing to try anything.”

  Caroline snorted. “God knows why, he’s led her a merry dance most of their married life.”

  Ryker checked his cell phone. Still nothing from Anders. “I told you why I was up here. What are you doing?”

  “Checking on my mother. Come with me?”

  “Sure.”

  Ray led Paula across the lawns and they entered the house through the open doors that brought them into the main hall, the ballroom, where earlier guests had danced to the band. The music was over now; the party was all but finished. Just a few stragglers, reluctant to leave the free food and drink, and anxious not to leave and pass up a social climbing opportunity.

  “Where are we going?” Paula said. She wasn’t keen on running into her parents.

  “Unless his habits have changed since I last saw him,” Ray said. “Randolph Stock will be in his study working out ways to add to his already considerable fortune.”

  “He’s not all bad.”

  Ray looked at her but didn’t say anything. He could just about remember what it was like to be eighteen, and think everything in life was still possible. Paula was a little on the wild side, but deep down she was kind and vulnerable. Anyone who had Martin and Caroline as parents deserved to be given a break.

  He hadn’t thought about what he would say to his father. The opinion he had shared with Caroline, that it was none of his business what his father did, held true. But after the encounter with two of the white robed sisters at the pool, he didn’t for one moment believe they were here for altruistic reasons. Whether his father was being scammed for money he doubted, but there was something going on. Though he often resented being a part of the family, when it was threatened, Ray Stock came out fighting.

  They made their way through the ground floor rooms to a back staircase that would lead them to the first floor landing, and the bedrooms and bathrooms there; and to Randolph Stock’s lair.

  At one point they saw Martin, and he saw them, but he was tied up saying goodnight to yet another important guest, and although he made ‘come here’ gestures to Paula she chose to act dumb and ignore him.

  “This is one birthday I won’t forget,” she said.

  “It’s supposed to be special, coming of age and all that.”

  “Uncle Ray, this is the twenty first century, who comes of age these days?”

  “Are you coming with me to see my father?”

  “Sure. For one, he gave me a generous check as a birthday present. I’d like to thank him.”

  Caroline opened the door to her mother’s room and gasped in surprise.

  Ryker gently suggested her into the room and closed the door behind them.

  Laid out on the bed, white sheets covering her clearly skeletal body, was Marlene Stock. Three white robed women fluttered around her, like moths to a flame.

  Cancer robs the body of much of its goodness, and weight loss is a primary symptom. Marlene wasn’t just thin, she was bones veiled in flesh. Flesh so thin it was translucent. Her face was like a skull, the eyes dull and lifeless, and the cheeks hollowed and sunken. The skin was yellowed like an old parchment manuscript.

  One of the women turned to stare as the door opened. She was slim, and blonde. The look on her face was one of frank aggression.

  The others were in the act of pouring grey dust from a small glass vial into the open mouth of Marlene. One held her jaw, so that the lips were parted, while the other was ensuring the dust entered the mouth. She dabbed delicately at the corners of the mouth if a small particle escaped.

  When the phial was empty she placed it on the bedside cabinet, and between them
the two women closed the mouth, and massaged the throat so that the dust was swallowed.

  “What are you doing?” Caroline said.

  One of the women stood and came over to stand between Caroline, Ryker and the bed. “We are sisters of the Church. We are caring for your mother.”

  “What are you giving her? She looks awful.”

  “We don’t have to explain our methods to you. We are employed by Mr. Stock.”

  “Oh, I know you’ve wormed your way into my father’s checking account with your lies and tricks, but he hasn’t seen his wife looking as ill as this has he?”

  One of the two women at the bedside stood. She was dark haired and dark skinned. “Ill? For someone with terminal cancer I think she looks remarkably well, don’t you?”

  Caroline and Ryker moved closer to the bed. What they saw was something different to what had been there a moment ago.

  Marlene Stock had regained her normal colour. Her skin looked fuller, the hair was almost glossy, and her eyes were open, if glazed over.

  “What did you give her?” Ryker said. “Morphine?”

  All three women laughed softly. “We don’t use conventional medicines. Dr Romodon has travelled and practiced all over the world. He brings enlightenment and innovation to his healing.”

  “Except,” Ryker said. “No hospital has ever taught him, no university or college has ever had him as a student. He seems to have simply appeared out of thin air.”

  Caroline touched her mother’s forehead. It was cold to the touch. She recoiled. “Mother?” The figure on the bed looked like her mother, but there was something about it that wasn’t right. The body was frail, but it was the shape she had become used to, even covered by the white sheets. The face; the face wasn’t wearing any expression that Caroline recognized. It was as if her mother was wearing someone else’s face. “What are you doing to her?”

 

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