‘Cut? Yes?’
‘Yes. Sorry.’
‘Wake up, George, for fuck’s sake.’
Elizabeth takes a swig of the hot drink and storms out of shot.
Gemma shakes her head, slowly, and scrolls through the phone to a picture of a logo. Red on black. Some words and the unmistakable, austere block that is Tankerville Tower.
—When all this shit went out on Elizabeth’s channel, she was going to be untouchable. Believe me, she had press releases all planned out; a strategy to go global.
—What on earth was going on here?
—This was the famous ‘Elizabeth Barton Tower Foundation’. She’d paid someone to make her a fucking logo for it with the fucking Vampire Tower front and centre. This was her ticket to superstardom. She was going to go beyond Ergarth – she wanted the country, the world. Like vampires do, right? Her narcissism knew no bounds.
—What about George?
—Stupid boy. As soon as this went big, she would have dropped him like yesterday’s rubbish. I wish he’d known that too.
—And Solomon Meer?
—Another pawn. Her initial idea was that she was going to befriend him – get him the help for his mental health that he needed. She was going to be his saviour.
—How do you have these pictures, these videos? How do you know all this, if you were down here in Bristol the whole time? This is getting rather tangled.
—It’s a tangled story. George was filming all this stuff for her, using his phone. Then he was sending it to me. Why? To show off I think. He still thought that he was going to be part of Lizzie B’s rise to superstardom. Idiot.
—They all kept it a secret. George threatened to burn Tankerville Tower with Solomon in it if he spoke up. When we spoke to Solomon … well … we just wanted to show him that he was being taken for a ride. He was just a puppet. An accessory like all the homeless people she took photos of in town to make herself look good.
Finally I understand what Jason had over George. All his life, George Meldby had been hanging on Elizabeth’s coat-tails and this was his chance, his ticket to ascend with her into sainthood. All his past misdemeanours cleansed. All he had to do was take the rap for Fellman’s. Gemma nods her head when I put this to her.
—Yeah. It wasn’t as if George was going to tell anyone. Nor Martin, nor Solomon.
—This makes sense. If it had got out, people would have had a hard time believing any of those three.
—Yeah and anyone else might have given away her secrets, about the challenge, about how she got Martin Flynn to steal a lamb from the abattoir for her stupid videos. How the Ergarth Vampire was Solomon Meer running round in make-up whenever she asked him to. Solomon Meer was utterly in her control and she loved it. That’s the heart of it: she loved the attention, the adoration.
But that was her weak spot. And that’s how we got to her.
—What happened on the night Elizabeth died, Gemma? Who locked Lizzie in the tower?
—That’s the question, isn’t it? The big one. What do you want to know?
—What we all know for a fact is that Elizabeth got a text from Solomon Meer, asking her to meet him in Tankerville Tower that night. I just don’t understand why.
—It was freezing cold that night. It was the worst one up there. Minus ten by the sea. Elizabeth had changed her plans. Getting help for Solomon Meer was far too much effort for her. She was now hoping Solomon Meer would die in the tower. That would have made her video all the more moving wouldn’t it? She had done her best to help him. She had all the videos she needed. She’d have made a montage of it for her channel; all to the sound of a Coldplay tune in the background. Everything was in place. The Elizabeth Barton Tower Foundation was going to help the most vulnerable in society without Elizabeth actually having to do much work. She would have taken all the adulation for it too. Makes you sick doesn’t it?
But something went wrong that night.
—Clearly.
—Look at her last YouTube video; she posted it not long after that text from Solomon was sent. Why do you suppose that was?
—I’m not sure.
—That video is all messed up cos of the weather. If you listen carefully, she’s asking people to come and help. She’s asking her followers to come to the tower too!
—Why?
—It wouldn’t have looked good would it? If she got there and he was dead. She needed backup, unquestioning backup. She needed people to film this. She needed to be the hero, not a suspect. And I think she was scared too. If he could text her, he could text someone else, he could call the authorities and tell them she’d got him sleeping outside in a fucking blizzard.
—Wait. Elizabeth made Solomon sleep in Tankerville Tower?
—Solomon was sleeping in the bookshop, sometimes in the Dene. He wasn’t stupid enough to sleep in the tower; but he was stupid enough to do what Elizabeth told him to.
—Her reputation would have been in ruins if anyone had found out she’d told him to sleep there – no ‘Elizabeth Barton Tower Foundation’.
—Exactly.
—But no one came. Save George and Martin. Why not?
—Everything she had was online. She’d got these thousands of followers and subscribers, and she genuinely thought they were all going to come and meet her at the Vampire Tower at night, in the freezing cold. I think she didn’t realise that all that online stuff is bullshit. People liked to sit in their bedrooms and watch her open boxes, for fuck’s sake. They liked to live vicariously through her. No one actually wanted to be her friend or actually spend time with her unless they were going to get something out of it. Not really.
—What about the snowball fight?
—It didn’t take much effort did it? Going down the street and throwing snowballs in a corner shop. Trekking out to Tankerville Tower in a blizzard, though, to watch Elizabeth meet a ‘vampire’ when you could be at home in the warm, watching it? No contest really. That’s how shallow her followers were.
—You think those lines between reality and fantasy blurred for Elizabeth too that night?
—Yeah. I do. George Meldby and Martin Flynn were the only ones who actually cared enough about her to brave the weather. Everyone thinks Martin Flynn brought that knife to kill Elizabeth and cut off her head. What if he’d brought it to defend her instead?
—Defend her from who?
—What if Elizabeth didn’t want to be alone with Solomon Meer? What if he’d already tried to do something to her?
—This could explain Solomon in the Bartons’ house.
—It also explains why she didn’t grass him up for it either. She needed him dead in Tankerville Tower. Why else did she make him go there that night? In that weather? He was either going to be dressed up as a vampire for her Dead in Six Days video or else he was freezing and she was going to ‘find’ him there, dead. I don’t think any of us will ever know. I think she was going to go there for the challenge and be ‘shocked’ to find Solomon Meer dead or at least passed out. Her numbers for the Dead in Six Days videos were huge. The whole world would have been able to watch her being the hero, as per. This was her ticket to superstardom. That’s what I think, anyway. And George and Martin followed her there, just in case something went wrong.
—But what actually happened?
—I know that George and Martin were late; very late. The weather made it really difficult to reach the tower. By the time they got there, Elizabeth was already dead. Those two broke in to the tower to try and rescue her; they tried to resuscitate her, but it was no use.
—What about the video on Solomon Meer’s phone? ‘What have we done?’
—Look at it. Look at it hard. George and Martin are just stood there. The wind’s screaming all over the place. It’s Solomon’s voice, he’s whispering. The other two didn’t even know they were being filmed.
—How do you know all this? You were here. Three hundred miles away.
—Because George called me that night. He was panick
ing and didn’t know what to do. His and Martin’s DNA was all over Elizabeth’s body.’
—What happened?
—They panicked, they ran away.
—Why didn’t they call the police?
—Why do you think? Who was going to believe they had nothing to do with it? They’d realised Martin had dropped his knife when they were trying to save Elizabeth. So they had to go back. Just think what would have happened if it was found with their fingerprints on it. But when they got back to the Vampire Tower, Solomon Meer had stripped Elizabeth’s body and cut off her head. He was stood there with that knife from Flynn’s Meats. George and Martin ran again, hoping that the evidence would be enough to convict Solomon alone. It didn’t work out that way, unfortunately.
—You said that Solomon removed Elizabeth’s clothes. Wasn’t it assumed she’d undressed herself?
—Yes, it was. But she was clothed when George and Martin tried to resuscitate her. When they came back for the knife, she was naked.
—Gemma. Why on earth is none of this public? Why haven’t you told anyone about this?
—Who’s going to believe me? The girl who was famous online for being a little slag who had a party that a thousand people turned up to? A girl who was dumped by the little weirdo firebug George Meldby? The evidence was too strong. Who was going to believe me or any of those three? I told George to throw his phone over the cliff, get rid of all the video evidence. That way he’d get a lighter sentence.
—You’re getting yourself off the hook here.
—I didn’t do anything wrong did I? I didn’t touch her. I didn’t believe she was a vampire. I didn’t tell anyone to do anything. I didn’t cut off her head. Am I sorry she’s dead? Not really. Maybe she was a vampire. Of sorts. Maybe we did the right thing?
This is the second time Gemma has slipped into a plural. Who does she mean by ‘we’?
—Why didn’t the other two just blame Solomon Meer, rather than stay silent?
—What would have been the point? George and Martin knew fine well that no one would believe them. No one ever had, no one ever would. The forensic evidence was all over Tankerville Tower. Maybe the three of them made some sort of agreement with each other that night? I don’t know. I wasn’t there. All I’ve got is what George told me, before he sent me all these pictures and videos then got rid of his phone. It might be true. It might be all lies. I guess we just wanted you to know that there were other ways of seeing the story of Elizabeth Barton. She wasn’t the only victim.
I’m utterly shocked. I also notice that plural again. I’m astounded that Gemma can be so blasé about what happened to all four of them that night in 2018. Surely she cared enough about George Meldby to protest his innocence, to be his voice when he couldn’t. I put this to Gemma and she shrugs again.
—George had a choice – me or her. And he trotted back to Elizabeth Barton like a little puppy dog. Why should I reward that? Why should I have helped him after he gave no shits about me?
—Because neither George Meldby nor Martin Flynn really deserved what happened to them.
—Didn’t they? Are you sure? Martin Flynn, a thug who liked to beat people up, who helped run an abattoir with his family, slaughtering innocents every day, a place investigated for animal cruelty?
I remember who it was who called me here to meet Gemma. Now I realise who ‘we’ were. Gemma’s protestations that she didn’t do anything wrong might actually have substance.
—Tell me about Jason, Gemma. What was his part in all this?
—Jason’s a survivor. Like me. Sometimes you have to be tough to survive. Jason was abused by his sister all his life. But he knew her, he knew what would work.
—What are you telling me, Gemma?
—What I can tell you is that Jason managed to escape that family. He made it out intact. Just. We met here, in Bristol, long after we escaped Ergarth. I know all about what it was like for the Barton children. Their parents showered them with gifts, they had TVs and PlayStation and things, but when either of them had a problem, Mum and Dad were nowhere to be seen. All they gave a shit about was how that family looked from the outside.
I’m surprised Jason has turned out so stable. We’ve both got our darkness, and we share it. We’re there for each other when it becomes overwhelming. Is Jason sad about what happened to his sister? I don’t know really, not for sure. Sometimes it’s not nice to say what you really think. Sometimes that’s not acceptable, is it? But when he suggested the world would be a better place without her, I was inclined to agree.
I see now what role Gemma played in the manipulation of Solomon Meer to kill Elizabeth. It smacks of the sort of thing that the Elizabeth Barton Gemma hated might do – taking advantage of a mentally vulnerable person. Yet I have no way of proving her story. I open my mouth to speak and there’s a crunch of tyres from the entrance to the graveyard. We turn to look and Gemma begins to pick up the pace. A car sits at the entrance, unmoving. I can see a figure at the wheel. They wave and Gemma waves back. I realise that this is my last chance.
—I guess my question is why?
—Why what?
—You two got away with it. All of it. This was the perfect crime. Almost. Why not leave it at that?
—Meaning what?
—Meaning I think you and Jason are more like Elizabeth than you think. You all couldn’t bear doing something in secret, doing things for yourselves. ‘Who locked Lizzie in the tower?’ – that was what drew the eyes of the world back to Ergarth. You two wanted to show off how you killed Elizabeth Barton and landed three young men in prison. It was all about validation. Attention. It feels to me like if what you say is true, you two are just as bad. Maybe worse.
—And you were the perfect vessel for us. Unfortunately though, right now, it’s your word against ours. Don’t think we don’t have plans to disappear. Again.
—What if you stayed? Handed yourselves in?
—I could give this to you.
She waves the phone under my nose and pulls it back.
—I won’t though because that would spoil everyone’s story. The story of perfect Elizabeth Barton and her crazy brother. It would ruin the story of firebug George Meldby and evil Solomon Meer. It would wreck the legend of poor Mr and Mrs Barton who cared so much for their children. You see, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that sometimes you have to be a little bit of the thing you hate. Jason knows it too. He learned from the best. You have to be a little bit of a vampire to get on, to get where you want to go.
—One thing. Please. Before you walk away.
Gemma looks at me, then back to the car, then back to me again.
—I spoke to Jason. Why didn’t he tell me any of this?
Gemma shrugs.
—Sometimes, you have to let people tell their own stories. Their own way. You needed this story as much as we did. You needed to escape your own story, deflect the spotlight, push it onto some people who deserved it for once, perhaps?
—I finally forced the story?
Gemma Hines smiles. I watch her walk away, get into the car and close the door.
I recognise the driver. Jason gives me a quick smile before he reverses out of the cemetery gates and away.
I could have snatched that phone but what then? What exactly would have happened next? I could have taken my evidence to the police. They could have sifted through the phone and found that George Meldby called her on the night that Elizabeth Barton died.
And what then? Would that be enough to convict Gemma? Maybe alongside this interview?
Gemma Hines told me that vampires have to move with the times. She’s right. I could have taken that phone and maybe we would have had tangible evidence that Gemma Hines is to blame for the death of Elizabeth Barton? I don’t know. I’m no legal expert.
Gemma didn’t give me the phone, and I didn’t snatch it. Is that me playing some part in this whole story too? I believed, when I started this series, that coming to Ergarth was my own ch
oice. But was it really? Instead, did the message on the Bartons’ wall draw me here like a lure in the dark, on the end of some terrible, deep-sea predator?
I am inclined to think so.
You see, I don’t believe Gemma Hines is responsible for the death of Elizabeth Barton. I think that she was actually a proxy. Because vampires are smart. Vampires move with the times. I think back to something Gemma said earlier: what makes a vampire? Another vampire. This has stuck with me and got me thinking.
On that phone that Gemma waved at me before she disappeared, there’ll surely be enough to at least bring her to court; along with her interview with me. What there won’t be on that phone is any evidence that Jason Barton was behind a plan to help kill his sister and leave their parents with the pain he’s carried all his life. I don’t believe Jason was there that night. He’s too clever for that. I think he conducted proceedings from afar.
And there’s a detail that looks to me like his fingerprint. It can only have been Solomon who stripped Elizabeth naked, before beheading her. There’s nothing I’ve read that says a vampire needs to be naked to die; so why would Solomon do it? I believe Jason, via Gemma, persuaded him to, as an extra piece of revenge against the sister who forced him to remove his clothes and stand out in the snow all those years ago.
Beast Page 26
