[Ben Whittle Investigations 01.0] The Revelation Room

by Mark Tilbury

  How you gonna get them down the rabbit hole, Pixie?

  Ebb spun around, expecting to see his mother standing on the stairs. Nothing, just strands of cobwebs decorating the dirty walls with silver streaks. His heart felt like a kid on a bouncy castle. He swallowed hard. His throat still felt crushed from where Tweezer had attacked him. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Tweezer had inflicted permanent damage to his windpipe.

  ‘Bubba can carry them down to the Revelation Room once Benjamin is locked away,’ Ebb said. He reached down and plucked the bunch of keys from a puddle of blood.

  Dixie leered at him with her best are you looking for a good time? grin.

  Ebb studied her for a while. It was a shame how things had turned out with Sister Dixie. She’d shown so much promise to start with. Perhaps one day, when the dust had settled, he’d find it in his heart to look upon Sister Dixie fondly again. He was rather proud of the way they’d disposed of the pimp who’d controlled her miserable life with drugs, threats and sexual depravity.

  He wiped the keys on his tracksuit and opened the door to the Brothers’ Room. Bubba and Benjamin were standing together by the window, locked in an embrace. For one incredulous moment, he thought the two of them had embarked on a love affair. He pointed the shotgun at them.

  ‘Lockdown is over. We have work to do.’

  Benjamin looked at him with bankrupt eyes. ‘What work?’

  ‘The Lord’s work.’

  Ben laughed. ‘The Lord’s w-work? Is that what you c-call it?’

  Ebb didn’t care for the whiny tone of Benjamin’s voice. Or for that stammer rearing its ugly head. It spoke volumes for possession. As did Benjamin’s warning to Sister Alice about Cyril’s death and the removal of Bubba’s tongue. ‘Don’t question me. Put your hands on your head and walk out of the room.’

  Ben did as instructed. Bubba followed him.

  Ebb backed away a few steps. ‘Not you, Bubba. You stay put. We’ve got work to do. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’

  Ebb waited for Ben to get onto the landing before throwing the bunch of keys on the floor. ‘Lock the Brothers’ Room and then get down the stairs.’

  ‘Where are we g-going?’

  Ebb smiled. ‘The Revelation Room, Pixie-pea. Now move.’

  37

  Ben walked down the basement steps and through the Cannabis Room with his mind in meltdown. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore. As long as it was quick. Maybe a bullet to the back of the head.

  The cannabis plants tickled his bare arms. Ebb told him to stop as they neared a door at the far end of the room. There was a large silver key protruding from the lock.

  ‘Before you go into the Revelation Room, I want you to remember it is a sacred place. It must be treated with the utmost respect at all times.’

  Ben almost laughed out loud. The image of the two corpses on the landing burned like lanterns in his mind. Unlike the body at the bottom of the tower, he’d had no trouble identifying Marcus and Dixie.

  ‘I can’t watch you all the time, Benjamin, but the Lord Jesus Christ is always watching you. Please remember that. The Lord Jesus Christ tells me everything.’

  ‘Really? I’d n-never have g-guessed.’

  ‘Unlock the door and go inside. We haven’t got enough time to wait for you to finish a sentence.’

  Ben was just about to tell him to piss off when Ebb spoke. ‘I’m sure Madeline will be pleased to see you.’

  Ben’s breath froze. ‘M-Maddie?’

  ‘Yes, M-Maddie. Now get inside and shut the door behind you.’

  Ben opened the door and stepped inside. Maddie and Emily were bent over a man lying in the corner of the room. The man looked dead.

  ‘Close the door, Pixie-pea,’ Ebb shouted.

  Ben shut the door. He didn’t hear Ebb lock it. Tears spilled down his cheeks. ‘M-Maddie?’

  Maddie hobbled towards him, her bare feet scraping against the concrete floor. The sunshine had vanished from her eyes. Her overalls were unzipped almost to the waist.

  ‘I’m so s-sorry.’

  Maddie’s blonde hair looked almost brown in the dim light. It hung in loose strands over her shoulders. She stood in front of Ben. ‘At least we’ve found your dad.’

  ‘My d-dad?’

  Maddie pointed at the man with Emily. ‘He’s over there, Ben.’

  Ben tried to take everything in. Tried to register what he was seeing. Tweezer and Ebb’s dog lying dead in the middle of the room. The skeletons pinned to the far wall. The pink wig and sunglasses perched on one of the skulls. Emily kneeling beside his father. Poor bedraggled Maddie with the sunshine missing from her eyes. There was a terrible stench. Like mould and excrement mixed with a splash of piss. Or death, perhaps.

  ‘Your dad’s alive,’ Maddie said. ‘But I don’t think he’ll last much longer if we don’t get him out of here.’

  ‘Alive?’

  Maddie took Ben’s hand. ‘Come on. He’s talking a bit.’

  They limped over to Ben’s father, hand in hand, Maddie’s right foot dragging against the concrete floor. Ben wanted to pick her up and carry her, tell her everything would be all right, but he barely had enough strength to support himself.

  Geoff Whittle had one eye open. The other was swollen shut.

  ‘Dad?’

  Geoff opened his mouth to speak. Ben noticed one of his front teeth was missing. ‘You… took… your… time….’

  ‘I’m s-sorry.’

  Geoff coughed and wheezed. ‘Not… your… fault….’

  ‘It’s best not to speak too much,’ Emily said.

  Ben felt a sudden urge to shake Emily. He asked Maddie, ‘Does she know why we’re here?’

  ‘She knows, Ben.’

  Emily held her hands up. ‘And I’m sorry. Okay? But how was I to know this would happen?’

  Maddie toucher Emily’s arm. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘I loved Marcus. And now he’s dead. And we’re all going to die. How sorry do you want me to be?’

  Ben looked at his father. It had gone past the time for blame. Emily was right; they were all going to die. ‘Can’t we s-sit him up?’

  ‘I think both his legs are broken,’ Maddie said. ‘He can’t feel anything below the waist. And he’s been shot in the left shoulder and the right knee.’

  ‘J-Jesus.’

  ‘They shot him when he was up a tree trying to get photos of Emily.’

  Ben hunkered down. He reached out and stroked his father’s forehead. He didn’t know what to say.

  Geoff revved breath into his lungs. ‘You… did… okay….’

  Ben shook his head. He’d done shit, as usual. ‘I sh-should have called the p-police.’

  Geoff shook his head slowly. The effort seemed to drain the last dregs of energy from him.

  ‘I know one thing,’ Maddie said. ‘We’re not giving up.’

  ‘What do you propose we do?’ Emily said. ‘Rugby tackle the Father when he comes through the door?’

  ‘I don’t know. But we can’t just give up. We’ve got to fight.’

  ‘I’m pregnant, in case you’ve forgotten.’

  Maddie ignored her. ‘How are you, Ben?’

  ‘Okay,’ Ben lied.

  Maddie looked at Ben and chewed her lip. ‘What did he do to you?’

  Ben looked away before he started blubbing like a baby. ‘N-nothing.’

  ‘Maybe we can talk about it later, huh?’

  Ben didn’t believe there would be a later. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘We could ask Ebb for some water,’ Maddie suggested. ‘Try to negotiate with him.’

  ‘Why would he give us water when he’s going to kill us?’ Emily said.

  Maddie turned away. ‘You don’t know that.’

  Emily looked at Tweezer’s corpse. ‘Really? So Tweezer’s just resting, is he? And what about Marcus and Dixie? Just having a nice long soak in a bloodbath, are they?’

  Maddie groaned. ‘We have to stay positive.’
/>   Emily rolled her eyes. End of conversation.

  Ben’s brain pounded against his skull. He looked at his father. Geoff Whittle was barely breathing. Blood leaked from his nose. Stutter-buck couldn’t even muster words of comfort for a dying man.

  38

  Thunder rolled across the blackened sky as Ebb stared at the lifeless body of Sister Alice. Rain lashed down on her corpse as if God himself was mourning her tragic loss. Lightning flashed across the sky.

  Ebb felt an overwhelming urge to take an axe from the woodshed and chop Brother Marcus into a thousand pieces. It was obvious what had happened now. You didn’t need a degree in whodunit to figure this one out. Poor Sister Alice, his fallen angel, had gone to the tower as instructed, and Brother Marcus had thrown her from the top. And then Brother Marcus had attempted to flee the scene with Dixie, Emily and Madeline.

  But he didn’t have time to wallow in grief like a hippopotamus in mud. Not while the Devil was on the loose. There would be plenty of time for reflection when he got to Thailand.

  He pointed the shotgun at Bubba, his faithful Polish workhorse. ‘Take her to the basement.’

  Bubba had already carted the bodies of Marcus and Dixie to the Cannabis Room. To be fair, Bubba hadn’t been in any position to refuse, but credit where credit was due, Bubba had performed well.

  Bubba hoisted Sister Alice onto his shoulders. Lines creased his face. Ebb marvelled at the man’s strength. He was built like a beanpole and as strong as an ox. Loyal, too. Not like the rest of them. Bubba would be rewarded for his efforts; he could die first before the fire was set.

  By the time they reached the Cannabis Room, Bubba was panting like Maxine on a hot day. Marcus and Dixie both lay twisted in a tangled heap to one side of the Revelation Room door.

  Ebb spat on Marcus’s back with all the contempt he could muster. ‘Unlock the door and take Sister Alice into the Revelation Room. Put her on the floor with Tweezer and Maxine. Okay?’

  Bubba grunted.

  Ebb wished he hadn’t cut out Bubba’s tongue; it was like trying to communicate with an ape. ‘Then come back outside and put Sister Dixie and Brother Marcus inside with them.’

  Bubba unlocked the door and walked into the Revelation Room. Ebb followed him inside. He looked over at the three bunnies conspiring with the Infiltrator in the corner of the room. ‘You stay right where you are. Anyone so much as twitches, and I’ll blow Bubba’s head off.’

  Bubba heaved Alice onto the floor. Her right arm landed on Maxine’s muzzle. Ebb tried to make allowances for Bubba’s clumsiness. He must be dog-tired.

  Not as dog-tired as Maxine, Pixie-pea.

  Ebb ignored his mother and pointed the shotgun at Bubba. ‘Right, get the other two. Any funny business, and I’ll shoot the three wise monkeys in the corner.’

  Bubba dragged the bodies of Marcus and Dixie into the Revelation Room one at a time. He then stood with his hands on his hips, panting and gasping for air.

  Ebb took aim and fired. The shot hit Bubba in the chest. The force knocked him backwards. He gawped at Ebb with a what did you do that for? look in his eyes. Ebb didn’t like the look of that look. It suggested Satan might be lodging in that beanpole Pole after all.

  Bubba clutched his wounded chest and staggered backwards. He fell against the skeleton of Ebb’s mother. Bizarrely, Veronica Ebb seemed to pat Bubba on the head with her long, skeletal fingers. There, there! Don’t fret. Mummy’s here.

  Bubba slid down the wall, dismantling the skeleton as he went. He sat motionless against the wall with his chin resting on his chest, eyes closed. No pennies required. With all the bones scattered about him, he put Ebb in mind of the world’s greediest cannibal. Dark red blood bloomed on his bright yellow overalls. His right hand seemed to search the ruins of his chest for a heartbeat. His other hand rested in his lap beside Veronica Ebb’s leather-bound book.

  Ebb made a mental note to make sure he took all the Books of Revelation with him before the bunnies burned. And his mother’s pink wig and sunglasses. Her bones would have to stay put; he didn’t fancy trying to get through customs with her rattling around inside a suitcase. He was travelling light to Thailand.

  ‘Is the Imposter still alive?’ Ebb asked the three wise monkeys.

  They didn’t answer. For all Ebb knew, they might be using telepathy to communicate. ‘Sister Emily?’

  Sister Emily blanked him. No matter. Ebb was old enough and wise enough to know that you could lead a chicken to corn, but you couldn’t make it peck. ‘You have betrayed me, Sister Emily.’

  Emily looked away.

  ‘I took you in. Gave you food and shelter. Introduced you to the Lord Jesus Christ. And how did you repay me?’

  Sister Emily rubbed her belly, comforting the bastard child.

  Ebb pointed the gun at her stomach. ‘By committing the vile act of copulation.’

  ‘We loved each other,’ Emily shouted, stroking her belly as if it was a crystal ball about to reveal the future.

  Ebb smiled. ‘Love?’

  ‘Something you wouldn’t know anything about.’

  ‘Don’t you dare mock me. I love Jesus Christ with all my heart.’

  ‘You love no one but yourself.’

  ‘Save your breath. I’m not listening to any more of your guff. Just remember that God is watching you and keeping a count of all your lies.’

  ‘Watching me? What about you? A coward who’s about to kill a mother and her unborn child?’

  ‘A whore and her bastard child,’ Ebb corrected. ‘Anyway, God doesn’t recognise the illegitimate offspring of a union between a whore and a hyena.’

  ‘Mary Magdalen was a whore,’ Maddie said.

  Ebb addressed the pile of bodies on the floor. ‘See how Satan leaps from tongue to tongue like an epidemic in a Third World country.’

  Ben moved a few steps towards Ebb. ‘L-l-let them g-go.’

  Ebb turned the gun on Ben. ‘What’s the matter, Nostradamus, you got a frog hopping about in your throat?’

  ‘P-please.’

  Ebb shook his head. ‘If you shut up and do as you’re told, you won’t have to suffer. You keep babbling like a brook, and you’ll wish your mummy had been sporting a migraine the night you were conceived. Do I make myself clear, Pixie-pea?’

  Ben looked at the floor.

  ‘I’ve got chores to do, and then I need to speak to Jesus. I suggest you all take this opportunity to get down on your knees and pray to God for forgiveness.’

  ‘Us?’ Emily shouted.

  Ebb ignored her. He had no time to argue the toss with a tart. He backed out of the Revelation Room and closed the door behind him. He propped the shotgun against the wall and locked all the bunnies in the boiler.

  Sister Alice’s death had left a huge hole in his heart. He couldn’t believe that God had allowed Marcus to throw her from the tower. Why hadn’t God stepped in and thrown that low-life gypsy from the tower instead?

  God moves in mysterious ways, Pixie-pea.

  Ebb looked among the cannabis plants for signs of his mother. For once, he felt inclined to agree with her. God could certainly be a puzzle with a piece missing at times. But it was not his place to question the motives of the Lord. He was a humble servant, and he would do well to remember that, even when stricken with grief.

  He was about to pick up the shotgun when he realised there were no longer any threats necessitating the use of weapons at Penghilly’s Farm. Not physical ones, anyway. All the bunnies were either dead or about to burn. His mother might well try to unsettle him, but her days of locking him in cupboards and throwing him down stairs were long gone.

  Now the time had come, he was glad to be making a clean break from Penghilly’s Farm. It had run its course. Served its purpose. Scrambled its eggs. He’d gone way beyond the call of duty during his time here. In future, he’d make sure he was a lot more ruthless and vigilant. He’d trusted too many people. Been too forgiving. He wouldn’t make the mistake of letting emotions blur his visi
on again. No, sir. It didn’t bear thinking about what might have happened if he hadn’t come down the stairs when Brother Marcus was about to let the bunnies go.

  One thing was for certain: he needed urgent medical attention. His injured leg felt as if a white-hot needle was suturing the wound. As for his nose, that mangled lump of meat was in danger of rotting away altogether. Tweezer’s rancid teeth had surely given him tetanus. His first port of call would have to be a hospital. He’d have to blame Maxine for the assault on his nose, but under the circumstances he didn’t think the Lord would mind a little white lie.

  Better to be safe than sorry, Pixie-pea.

  Ebb resisted an overwhelming urge to rifle among the cannabis plants and weed his mother out. But he had to stay focused. She was just trying to unnerve him. Pull him off course. He hobbled up the stone steps, staring straight ahead, singing Onward Christian Soldiers as heartily as his injured throat would allow.

  He walked into the kitchen. He didn’t bother closing the door behind him. No one could escape from the Revelation Room. Not unless Harry Houdini’s ghost was acting as an advisor to the bunnies.

  He made his way up the two flights of stairs to his living quarters in the converted attic. His injured leg hampered his progress, but he refused to give in to it. He was no quitter.

  It was a real shame he needed to torch his living quarters. He always felt a great sense of peace when he was up there. He would often lay awake at night, looking up at the stars. They reminded him of tiny specks of hope.

  Careful not to cut himself on the fragments of glass, he took the rest of his clothes out of the wardrobe and threw them onto the bed. It would be a shame to burn them, but clothes could always be replaced.

  With the wardrobe cleared out, he moved on to his oak dresser and added socks, vests and Calvin Klein boxers to the pile on the bed. He then retrieved a glass jar from behind a stash of gay pornographic magazines in the bottom drawer. He held the jar up to the light. Bubba’s tongue no longer looked capable of telling tales. The formaldehyde had preserved it well, even though it no longer looked tickled pink to see him.