[Ben Whittle Investigations 01.0] The Revelation Room

by Mark Tilbury

Tweezer laughed. ‘You ain’t never going home, Madeline.’

  ‘Rape is the most despicable thing a man can do.’

  ‘If it’s rape, yes. Maybe. But this is your inauguration, so don’t confuse two issues. That’s like saying a wet tee-shirt contest is a porn show.’

  ‘In your twisted mind.’

  ‘Sometimes the truth hurts. Now, do you want to make this easy for yourself, or hard? I’m running thin on patience, love.’

  Maddie looked up at the skylight. ‘All right. Do it, then.’

  Tweezer’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah. Go on. Do it.’

  ‘Are you a virgin?’

  Maddie didn’t answer.

  ‘You’ll thank me for this. You’ll enjoy it. I promise.’

  Maddie opened her legs and lifted her feet off the bed.

  Tweezer licked his lips. ‘Come on, baby. Open the door. Let’s do it.’

  Maddie suddenly kicked out and caught Tweezer on the bridge of his nose with her left heel. The bone snapped. Blood gushed from his broken nose. He clutched his injured face with one hand. The other flailed by his side.

  Maddie kicked him again. In the left eye. Tweezer grunted and fell sideways off the bed. His head struck the bare oak floor, rendering him unconscious.

  Maddie sobbed and drew her knees up to her chest. Her whole body shivered. She closed her eyes and waited for Tweezer to get up off the floor and finish what he’d started.

  20

  ‘Where is he?’ Ebb demanded. ‘I sent him to get a blowtorch, not build one.’

  The Sons and Daughters of Salvation stood in line. No one offered an answer. Ebb turned to Bubba who was still standing beside the cross. ‘Guard him.’

  Bubba nodded and looked at the ground.

  Ebb strode out of the barn like a sergeant major in pursuit of a missing recruit. By the time he reached the farmhouse, he was gasping for breath. He walked around the side of the building to the back door and stepped on a thistle. He yelped and hobbled into the kitchen. As soon as the inaugurations were done and dusted, Benjamin could help Bubba to tidy up the garden.

  He stood in the middle of the room and called Tweezer’s name. Tweezer didn’t respond. Something moved in the corner of his eye. A shadow near the Welsh dresser. Ebb spun around to face it, heart thudding in his chest. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. Where in God’s name was that idiot Tweezer? The house was quiet. Too damned quiet. Calm before the storm quiet.

  ‘Tweezer?’

  The silence in the house crept under Ebb’s skin. He walked through the kitchen and into the hallway, keeping an eye out for unannounced guests. It wasn’t unknown for Jesus to appear to him when he was least expecting it. Once, the great man Himself had appeared from the spout of a teapot and told Ebb to kill Brother Gerald. Told him in no uncertain terms to “castrate the traitor and subject him to death by a thousand cuts”.

  A mahogany grandfather clock at the end of the hallway read a quarter to ten. He watched the pendulum swing from side to side. Its steady tick sounded like a death-knell in the silence.

  Ebb checked the lounge and then called up the stairs. ‘Tweezer?’

  A floorboard creaked, making Ebb jump. ‘Tweezer? Are you up there?’

  If Tweezer was, he wasn’t saying.

  ‘You’d better have a damn good reason for going AWOL.’

  No response. Where the hell was he? He walked up the stairs and checked the Brothers’ Room. Nothing. The Sisters’ Room. Same. Both empty, save a few flies and the lingering smell of dope. How many times did he have to tell Marcus not to smoke that dreadful stuff inside the house? It was tantamount to mocking the Lord.

  He walked along the landing and took a peek in the bathroom. Empty. He made a mental note to tell Sister Emily to pay close attention to the soap scum around the rim of the tub. It was no good showing the damned thing a bottle of Flash and hoping it would self-clean.

  He looked up a second flight of stairs leading to his quarters. His haven. His space. His oasis. Tweezer wouldn’t dare go up there without permission. Not if he valued his life. Ebb wiped perspiration from his eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing proud.

  Ebb cleared his throat. ‘Tweezer? Are you up there?’

  ‘Help me,’ a muffled voice called back.

  At first, Ebb thought his mother was playing tricks on him again. She could be a real joker sometimes. She was about as funny as a fart at the dinner table, but it didn’t seem to deter her.

  Ebb held onto the handrail for support. ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘It’s me. Maddie. Help me.’

  Ebb walked up the stairs, mindful that his mother might still try to fool him. You needed to keep all the bulbs burning bright concerning that one. He reached the small landing outside his quarters and stood stock still. ‘Madeline?’

  ‘Help me.’

  Ebb’s blood froze. His heart fell into his feet. The front door was slightly ajar. And he’d closed it. He’d not bothered to lock it, because everyone had been in the barn with him except for Marcus who was on watch duty up the tower.

  ‘Madeline? What’s happened?’

  ‘Tweezer tried to rape me.’

  ‘Rape you?’ Ebb said, his mind a kaleidoscope of scenarios. This had to be a trick. Satan playing games with him. ‘Tweezer?’

  ‘He’s unconscious on the floor.’

  Ebb laughed. ‘And I’m Peter Pan.’

  ‘It’s the truth. I kicked him in the face and knocked him out.’

  Ebb shoved the door back against the wall and stepped into the lounge. There was a fifty-inch flat-screen TV secured to one wall. He peered at the blank screen. His mother had once interrupted the evening news to announce that Ebb was on the FBI’s top ten most wanted list. She’d even been wearing her trademark pink wig and sunglasses.

  Ebb ripped the crucifix from his neck and held it out before him. He walked through the lounge on legs barely able to support his weight. He stopped in the bedroom doorway and peered inside. Madeline was still handcuffed to the bed. Her face looked strained, but that was to be expected with Satan controlling her.

  ‘Help me,’ Maddie pleaded.

  Ebb ignored her pitiful appearance. Appearances could be deceptive. Vigilance was the key to survival. He took two steps towards the bed and addressed the waif. ‘What have you done?’

  ‘Nothing. He attacked me.’

  ‘Who attacked you?’

  Maddie nodded towards the blind side of the bed. ‘That bastard.’

  Ebb ignored the profanity. He walked around the foot of the bed and stared at Tweezer’s naked body. Tattoos scarred every inch of his skin. Serpents. The scales of justice. Gangland graffiti. In Ebb’s opinion, Tweezer’s body looked like a billboard advertisement for Hell.

  Ebb glanced at Maddie. ‘You must have lured him here.’

  ‘How the hell could I do that? He attacked me.’

  Ebb grappled with the truth. ‘He wouldn’t betray me.’

  ‘He tried to rape me.’

  Ebb clutched the cross in both hands and thrust it out before him. ‘I’m not listening to your filthy lies.’

  ‘Who do you think untied my robe?’

  ‘I have no doubt in my mind that Brother Tweezer untied your robe.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Maddie sobbed.

  ‘I also have no doubt in my mind that you coerced him into doing so.’

  ‘How in God’s name am I supposed to have coerced him?’

  ‘Because you’re a seductress. A temptress. A vampire. You must have seduced him with telepathic messages.’

  Tweezer groaned on the floor. Ebb thrust the cross at him. ‘Get up and get dressed.’

  Tweezer raised his head. ‘Where am I?’

  Tweezer’s disorientation lent further proof to the fact that external forces controlled him. ‘Get up. Right now.’

  ‘You’re sick,’ Maddie said.

  Ebb raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you want to shame the s
hovel?’

  ‘I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.’

  Ebb didn’t like the look lurking in those beguiling green eyes. They were full of malice. Only time would tell whether she was beyond salvation.

  Tweezer groaned. ‘What happened?’

  ‘You’ve been compromised, Pixie-pea. Get up and get dressed before your hideous body makes me puke.’

  ‘Please undo my hands,’ Maddie pleaded.

  Ebb pointed the cross at her. ‘Not while this court’s in session, sister. What do you take me for: the fool on the hill?’

  ‘I’m begging you. Please.’

  Ebb ignored her and walked over to an oak dressing table. He took a hatpin from a drawer. He held it up in front of Maddie. ‘My mother’s. She liked hats. And wigs. And men.’

  Maddie pushed back against the head rail.

  ‘Don’t fret. The pin’s not for you. It’s for Sleeping Beauty over there.’

  Ebb walked to where Tweezer fumbled about on all fours. He bent over and jabbed the hatpin into the sole of the man’s left foot. Deep. Almost right through to the other side.

  Tweezer screamed and bucked like a wild horse introduced to a rodeo.

  Ebb pulled the pin out. Blood oozed from the wound. ‘Get up! It’s time for the rabbit hole.’

  Tweezer looked over his shoulder at Ebb. One eye was closed, the surrounding skin swollen and purple. His mouth and goatee beard were streaked red.

  Ebb put the hatpin in the pocket of his robe. ‘You’re not looking too good, my friend.’

  Tweezer gawked at him. His mouth opened and closed as if disconnected from his brain. Ebb resisted an urge to kick Tweezer’s backside. ‘How could you be tempted by Satan so easily?’

  ‘I wasn’t—’

  ‘You’ve made a nasty mess all over my floor. It’s a good job that the oak is sealed.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Father.’

  Ebb watched a bubble of snot and blood burst from the end of his nose and splatter on his top lip. ‘You’re supposed to be my number two. My main man.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Father.’

  Ebb snorted. ‘Do you think sorry makes it all right?’

  ‘No, Father.’

  ‘Get up.’

  Tweezer scrambled to his feet. Blood dripped from his nose and ran into his beard. He picked up his robe and put it on, fastening it around the middle with the yellow sash.

  Ebb noticed Tweezer’s hands were shaking. Perhaps he was still under the influence of the seductress. ‘Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Fa—’

  Ebb waved the cross at him. ‘Satan has tempted you, brother. Compromised you. Save your apologies for the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. I’ve got better things to do than listen to the excuses of a sinner.’

  Tweezer wiped his nose with the back of his hand. His good eye swivelled in its socket, coming to rest on Maddie. ‘She—’

  Ebb waved him away. ‘Go.’

  Tweezer hobbled out of Ebb’s quarters, his injured foot leaving tiny spots of blood on the floor. Ebb studied Maddie. ‘I suppose you think you’re clever?’

  ‘I just want to go home.’

  Ebb laughed. A small throaty laugh that sounded as if it had been fashioned in a witch’s cauldron. ‘You’re a slippery customer, all right. But I’m on to you. As Jesus Christ is my witness, I’m on to you.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  Ebb pursed his lips. ‘How did you do it? How did you seduce him?’

  Maddie looked away.

  ‘It’s going to be a long night, Madeline. But I will purge your body of Satan if it’s the last thing I do.’

  21

  Ebb escorted the prisoner down into the kitchen. Twice the prisoner had tried pleading his innocence, but Ebb had learned long ago that the truth was best extracted by time and torture. You could set your clock by that.

  Tweezer looked at Ebb with his good eye and tried to smile. ‘Would you like a brew, Father?’

  Ebb took a deep breath and tried to summon patience. Tweezer was in denial. That was as plain as Sister Emily’s face. ‘A brew?’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘What kind of brew? A Hebrew?’

  Tweezer snorted laughter. A mistake. His nose bled again.

  ‘You disgust me, Brother Tweezer.’

  Tweezer wiped his nose. ‘Sorry, Father.’

  ‘You have betrayed me.’

  ‘She tempted me, Father.’

  ‘I know she bloody well tempted you, you fool. I don’t need you to tell me she’s a nest of vipers.’

  Tweezer bowed his head. Blood bubbled from his nose. ‘I’m really sorry, Father.’

  Tweezer’s eyes put Ebb in mind of a wounded animal. ‘The girl has just arrived. What do you expect her to be? Pure?’

  ‘No, I—’

  ‘She has all the sins of the free world raging inside her.’

  Tweezer plucked a flake of dried blood from his beard. ‘She might be a witch, Father.’

  Ebb squinted at Tweezer as if he’d just challenged him to a dual at dawn. ‘A witch?’

  ‘Yes, Father. I think we might have to drown her.’

  ‘You do, do you?’

  ‘Yes, Father. It’s the only way to rid her body of the evil inside her.’

  ‘Perhaps we ought to put you both down the wishing well in the garden. What do you think about that?’

  Tweezer clamped his mouth shut and focused his attention on his dripping nose.

  ‘The girl’s not a witch. She needs purging, nothing more than that.’

  ‘She’s dangerous, Father.’

  Ebb ignored him. ‘But you’re a different kettle of mackerel, aren’t you?’

  ‘I didn’t do—’

  Ebb slapped the table. ‘Save your tongue. If you tell me one more time that the girl lured you to the bedroom, I shall render your mouth incapable of speech. Is that clear to your ears?’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘You are supposed to be my right-hand man. What do you suppose that means?’

  ‘I carry out your instructions, Father.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘I serve the Lord?’

  Ebb fought an impulse to bang Tweezer’s head on the table. ‘You’re meant to set an example to the group. Do you think attempting to rape an uninitiated member is setting a good example?’

  ‘No, Father.’

  ‘I trusted you.’

  ‘You can still trust me, Father.’

  Ebb shook his head. ‘Not anymore. You have proven yourself to be weak. Weak and open to attack. I fear Satan has attached himself to you.’

  ‘No, Father. No, he’s—’

  Ebb held up a hand. ‘Stop babbling. The weak always deny the truth, even when it’s perched on their shoulders like a parrot.’

  ‘Satan’s inside the girl, Father.’

  Ebb crossed his arms. ‘I vividly remember your inauguration. I truly believed that we’d purged all traces of Satan from you when we tied you to a tractor and hauled your sinful body back and forth across the North Field.’

  ‘You did, Father.’

  ‘But I still see him standing before me, large as life, twice as brazen.’

  ‘No, Father.’

  Ebb held up a hand. ‘You can no longer be trusted, Brother Tweezer.’

  ‘I can. I swear on my life.’

  Ebb walked over to the Welsh dresser and took a set of keys from a drawer. He selected a large silver key and walked to a door at the far end of the kitchen.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘You’re going down the rabbit hole, Brother Tweezer.’

  Tweezer gawked at the door with his good eye. ‘Please, Father. There’s no need to put me down there.’

  Ebb unlocked the door and opened it. ‘You get settled in. I’ve got urgent business to attend to.’

  ‘Please, Father.’

  ‘Stop wittering and get down there.’

  Tweezer limped past E
bb and peered into the basement. ‘Please, Father. I don’t like being locked in. I get claustrophobic.’

  ‘Do you want to shame the shovel?’

  ‘No, Father. It’s just—’

  Ebb walked up behind Tweezer and shoved him in the back. Tweezer rolled down the stone steps in a tangle of twisted limbs. His skull hit the concrete floor at the bottom. He hollered like a baby torn from its mother’s breast. Ebb considered it quite an unseemly racket for a man who boasted gangland murder in his portfolio.

  Tweezer crawled a few feet and then collapsed between the neat rows of cannabis plants.

  Ebb slammed the door and locked it. Some people proved to be downright babies when the chips were down.

  All the king’s horses, and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.

  Ebb jumped at the sound of his mother’s voice. It seemed to come from the teapot. For one terrible moment, he thought the thing was sporting a pink tea-cosy. He rubbed his eyes. No cosies. Not even pink ones.

  He shuffled out of the kitchen and went back to the barn. He was exhausted. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other. The Lord had seen fit to overload his schedule, which was fine by him, just as long as He didn’t expect Ebb to perform miracles when dealing with Satan.

  Bubba was still guarding the cross. Good old dependable Bubba. The big guy hadn’t shown one stick of dissent since the night Ebb had cut out his tongue. In fact, Bubba had even shown a level of understanding concerning the need to remove his tongue after witnessing Cyril’s execution. As far as Ebb was concerned, Bubba was too good a worker to dispense with, but too much of a liability to leave with an ability to tell tales.

  ‘Everything all right, Bubba?’

  Bubba nodded.

  Ebb noticed a strange black aura around the big guy. Like a shadow with fuzzy edges. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

  Bubba shuffled and grunted.

  Ebb stared in disbelief as the aura broke ranks with Bubba’s body and hovered in front of the cross.

  ‘Are you okay, Father?’ Sister Alice asked.

  Ebb looked at her. There was a nasty buzzing noise in the back of his head, reminiscent of the time one of his uncles had hit him with a shovel when he was a child.

  Sister Alice broke ranks and walked towards him. ‘Father?’