The Revelation Room (The Ben Whittle Investigation Series Book 1) (18 page)

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 pasted 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!’

‘I’m not saying—’

‘Brother Gerald committed the sin of homosexuality. He
deserved his punishment. But never confuse God’s will with mine. Brother Gerald
suffered death by a thousand cuts because that’s what the Lord decided.’

Tweezer gawped at Ebb. ‘I’ve never let you down, Father.’

Ebb raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? Poor Madeline might beg to
differ.’

‘I never—’

Ebb held up his free hand. ‘Save your lies, rapist. I want
you to focus all your attention on crawling to the other end of the room. Do
you think you can manage that without tripping over your tongue on the way?’

‘Why?’

Ebb pointed the rifle at Tweezer’s head. ‘Yours is not to
reason why, Pixie-pea.’

Tweezer groaned and rolled onto his front. He hissed like a
steam kettle about to come to the boil. ‘My legs. Oh, God, my legs.’

Ebb was unimpressed. ‘My legs, my eye. Use your arms to pull
you forward.’

Tweezer inched forwards, mewling like a cat with its tail
caught in a mousetrap. He stopped after a few feet and looked over his shoulder
at Ebb. ‘Why are you doing this, Father?’

‘Move.’

‘I don’t want to go in the Revelation Room.’

Ebb shook his head. ‘That’s too bad, Brother Tweezer,
because that’s where you’re going.’

‘I don’t want to die, Father,’ Tweezer whined.

‘Then you should have thought about that when you attacked
Madeline.’

Tweezer hiccupped a sob. ‘I didn’t attack her.’

‘God will be the judge of that. Get moving. A slug on a
sleeping pill could move faster than you.’

‘My legs are broken.’

‘Don’t tell fibs. One of your legs is broken. The other one
is wounded. There’s a difference.’

‘There’s no difference in the fucking pain.’

‘Perhaps you need a bullet up the backside to hurry you
along?’

Tweezer didn’t. He put his head down and inched forward.

‘The Infiltrator will be pleased to see you. That’s if he’s
still alive. He looked in pretty bad shape the last time I saw him. He’s a
tough nut to crack, I’ll give him that.’

Tweezer reached the other end of the room. He lay on the
ground panting and wheezing and sobbing. They didn’t make men like they used
to. Ebb was inclined to blame it on the overuse of comforters in infancy. And
antibacterial wipes. And indulgent mothers who perched themselves on the edge
of a baby-boo’s crib waiting for the first murmur of discontent.

‘Move away from the door,’ Ebb instructed.

Tweezer rolled over and whimpered.

Ebb studied the man with contempt. The big biker man. The
man who’d used his bare hands to kill. The man who’d subjected Brother Gerald
to death by a thousand cuts. He leaned the gun against the wall and took a
bunch of keys from his pocket. ‘Move one whisker, and I’ll kill you. Is that
clear to your ears, Pixie-pea?’

Tweezer gasped and minced words through clenched teeth.
‘Yes, Father.’

Ebb inserted a brass key into the lock and turned it
anti-clockwise. He opened the door and picked up his rifle. The Infiltrator was
still sitting tied to the chair where Sister Alice had left him. The
Infiltrator was looking ragged, with his bushy beard sprouting in all
directions. Ebb wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see a hedgehog peep out.
‘I’ve brought you some company.’

The Infiltrator didn’t seem very appreciative. He thrashed
from side to side in the chair, thus proving you didn’t need much fuel in the
tank to start an engine.

Ebb turned his attention back to Tweezer. ‘In you go.’

‘Please, Father, I don’t want to go in the Revelation Room.’

‘Once you’re in and settled, I’ll fetch you some water.’

‘I don’t want water.’

‘There’s no point in throwing temper tantrums, Pixie-pea.’

Tweezer didn’t move. ‘Please, Father. I’ll do anything.
Please.’

‘If you want me to shoot you, then I will. It’s up to you.’

‘And what happens if I go into the Revelation Room?’

Ebb smiled. ‘I’ll make sure you get a fair hearing.’

‘No, you won’t. You’ll just murder me like you did all those
other poor sods in there.’

‘Have you been given the powers of prediction?’

Tweezer looked up at Ebb, his good eye burning as bright as
a church candle. His hair was splayed out in wild clumps above his ears. His
ridiculous goatee beard was almost white with froth and dribble. It was a good
job that Max wasn’t too fussy about what she ate. He would make sure he chopped
Tweezer up into indistinguishable lumps for her. Ebb had learned the skill of
butchery from the internet. It was simple when you got down to the bare bones
of it. There wasn’t that much difference between a pig and a man when it came
to butchery, except a man kicked up a lot more fuss about going to meet his
maker.

A shadow moved in the corner of Ebb’s eye. He snapped his
head around, fearing that the Infiltrator might have somehow slipped his bonds,
but the Infiltrator was still tied to the chair. Ebb rubbed his eyes and then
focused all his attention on Tweezer. He ached for his bed. For the feel of the
cool cotton sheets. Perhaps a good bottle of red and a box of Milk Tray to calm
his shattered nerves. Perhaps when things settled down he could take a trip to
London and indulge himself in the services of a rent boy. Sex was so much more
enjoyable without the restrictions of relationships. He’d allowed himself to
fall in love once with Brother Gerald. Never again. As far as he was concerned,
it was once smitten, twice shy.