The Devil Inside

by Heather Atkinson

  “Yes, got it. Thank you Brodie.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t got you out of this house. Right you, stay in the middle of us. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. Okay?”

  “Yes,” he replied. He picked up his overnight bag and gripped the handles so hard his knuckles turned white.

  “Alright lads,” Brodie told Christian and Ross. “Open the door and lead the way.”

  Ross flung open the door to reveal Cain and Abel and their security team standing right outside the gate, their faces cut and bruised from the battle at Rottenrow Gardens, the rest of the bats gathered around them. Some of the puzzled neighbours had come out onto the street to watch, wondering what they should do, if anything.

  Christian and Ross stepped outside first, Brodie and Cass behind them, Mason cowering in the centre. Together they progressed down the path towards the gate. When Christian opened it, Cain and Abel refused to budge.

  “What you wanting, a kiss?” demanded Christian. “Get out of the way you lompers.”

  “We want a word with Mason,” replied Cain. “That’s all.”

  “Tough. He doesn’t want to talk to you so bugger off.”

  Cain folded his arms across his chest. “We’re going nowhere.”

  “You’ll be flying through the fucking sky if you don’t move your fat arse.”

  Cain’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “Your threats can’t affect me. I’ve elevated myself above such petty insults.”

  Christian thrust his face into his. “Oh aye? Have you elevated yourself above a severe doin’?”

  Brodie stepped forward and gently took Christian by the shoulder. “It’s alright, I’ll talk to the walloper.”

  Christian stepped aside, glaring at Cain.

  “Right you,” Brodie told Cain. “Mason’s leaving with us and if you don’t like it then tough titty. You’ve already had your arses kicked once. Don’t make us humiliate you again.”

  “You don’t have all your criminal friends with you now.”

  “The biggest criminals in this city are standing right in front of me.”

  “And he’s a liar,” said Cain, pointing at Mason. “He accused our leader, God incarnate, of being a fornicator.”

  “So?”

  “How dare he sully our saviour by accusing him of lying with whores.”

  Cass scowled at Cain when his gaze slid to her.

  “Oh get over yourself,” said Brodie. “He wouldn’t be the first man to send his wee soldier out on a special mission when he shouldn’t. And if you think that fanny is the saviour then you’re more deranged than I thought.”

  “How dare you?” boomed Cain while the bats around him hissed with outrage. “The devil really has you in his clutches, despite how Malachi tried to help you.”

  “Oh he tried to help me, did he? Does he consider injecting someone with psychotropic drugs to be helping? Because the Bible’s full of stories of Jesus going around sticking people with needles and doping them up with amphetamines, you silly bastard.”

  “Brodie,” said Cass. “This isn’t helping. We have to get out of here.”

  “Aye, alright hen.” He looked back at Cain. “Get out of the fucking way.”

  “You lot can leave but he stays,” he replied, pointing at Mason.

  “No deal.”

  “Then you’re going nowhere.”

  “Jesus, you must really be after another battering.”

  “Do not take the saviour’s name in vain,” exclaimed Abel.

  “I thought Malachi was your saviour?” retorted Christian.

  “Aye well…he is.”

  “You have two saviours then? So what if one saves you then the other comes along to save you but you’ve already been saved, so he doesn’t have anyone to save?”

  Abel’s eyes tick-tocked from side to side before he exploded, “Shut up.”

  “Wow, that’s a deep metaphysical argument you’ve got there.”

  “Boss,” said Ross. “More of them are coming.”

  They looked down the street to see more disciples swarming their way towards them.

  “Bloody hell,” said Christian. “There must be fifty of them, maybe more.”

  “Oh hell Mason,” Brodie growled in his ear. “What have you got us into?”

  Mason didn’t reply, he was too busy being petrified.

  “What do we do?” said Cass.

  “I haven’t a bloody clue hen,” said Brodie. “We don’t have time for this shite, we need to find Pete.”

  “Pete,” said Cain. “That’s your polis friend, isn’t it?”

  The look in his eyes caused something inside Brodie to snap. He grabbed Cain by the shirtfront and propelled him backwards, barrelling bats out of the way with such ferocity Cain was shocked into unresponsiveness. Brodie only came to a halt when Cain was slammed up against the side of Christian’s car, rocking it.

  “What the fuck have you done with Pete?” Brodie bellowed in Cain’s stunned face. “Start talking before I rip your fucking head right off.”

  “We don’t have him,” replied Cain, beginning to recover his composure.

  Brodie banged him repeatedly off the side of Christian’s car. “Then why mention him? You and your band of freaks have done something to him, haven’t you?”

  “Boys, help him,” Cass told Christian and Ross as the security guards closed in on Brodie.

  They shoved their way through the crowd towards their boss, leaving Cass to protect Mason. The rest of the bats, thinking a lone woman would be easy pickings, began to file through the garden gate one by one. Cass grabbed the arm of the first man who lunged for her, twisted it, kicked him in the groin and shoved him backwards into his friends, knocking them over.

  “Anyone else want to try?” she yelled.

  They all stopped in their tracks, looking uncertain.

  Christian and Ross were locked in a tussle with Abel and two other security guards while another two guards attempted to prise Brodie off Cain and failed.

  “What have you done with Pete?” bellowed Brodie, continuing to bang a grimacing and increasingly stunned Cain off Christian’s car. “Tell me before I torch your manky compound to the ground.”

  Cass was desperate to reach Brodie, she could see the terrifying rage which had practically destroyed Ricky and that existed inside him had enveloped him and she was afraid he’d do something he could never come back from. But there were far too many disciples blocking her way and she couldn’t leave Mason on his own.

  “Oh thank God,” breathed Mason when the wail of sirens echoed up the street.

  Immediately all the bats who had trespassed into the garden retreated back onto the pavement, the picture of innocence. The security guards struggling with Christian and Ross relinquished the fight. Only Brodie remained with his hands locked around Cain’s neck.

  “Brodie, for fuck’s sake let him go,” yelled Cass.

  Her voice drew him back to his senses. He released Cain and took a few steps back.

  An unmarked police car along with two patrol cars screamed to a halt, parking just behind Christian’s car.

  “Oh marvellous,” muttered Brodie when Donaldson leapt out of the unmarked car.

  The other officers orbited in formation behind him, Donaldson leading the way, putting Brodie in mind of ducks flying in the sky.

  “I might have known it would be you lot,” said Donaldson. “You’ve only just left the station and already you’re causing trouble.”

  “Oy pal,” retorted Brodie. “We’re no’ the ones causing trouble. We got a call from Mason here begging us to help him because this lot had surrounded his gaff and your lot were doing nothing about it.”

  Donaldson looked to Mason. “Is this true?”

  “Yes,” he said, voice slightly shrieky. “They’ve been out here all night hassling me because I printed a story about their leader.”

  “What story?”

  “That he had numerous affairs while married to his wife,
who was murdered by the way and whose killer was never caught. Funny how all Malachi’s affairs never came out in the original investigation, don’t you think?”

  Donaldson didn’t comment.

  “They came onto his property,” said Cass, pointing at the disciple she’d knocked down and his friends. “That’s trespass.”

  “It certainly is,” said Donaldson. “Do you want to press charges Mr Mortimer?”

  “Hey,” said Ross. “How do you know his name?”

  “Because a call came through to the station saying there was a rammy outside Mr Mortimer’s house.”

  Ross blushed. “Oh.”

  “So will you actually do something about this Donaldson?” said Brodie. “Or are you gonnae sit around with your thumb up your arse like your colleagues?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he replied. “I’m going to nick all those who trespassed on Mr Mortimer’s property. Who are they?”

  Eagerly Cass pointed out the five disciples who had stepped into the garden. Donaldson nodded at his colleagues, who began snapping the cuffs on them.

  “He assaulted me,” announced Cain, pointing at Brodie.

  Donaldson’s gaze snapped onto him. “Assaulted you how?”

  “He banged me up against the side of this car.”

  “Oooh err,” grinned Ross. “And he didn’t even buy you dinner first.”

  Donaldson noted the small dents in the nearside passenger door. “Who owns this car?”

  “I do,” said Christian, stepping forward.

  “Can you explain these dents please?”

  “I did that a few days ago. I was walking to my car and slipped and fell against it. I keep meaning to get it sorted but I keep forgetting.”

  “That’s a bloody lie,” exploded Cain. “He banged me into it,” he added, pointing at Brodie.

  “Did anyone else witness the assault?” said Donaldson.

  Immediately all the disciples raised their hands.

  “They’re only saying that to take the heat off themselves because they’ve been caught out trespassing and intimidating people,” announced Cass.

  “So Mr MacBride didn’t assault this man?”

  “He didn’t lay a finger on him.”

  Donaldson’s gaze drilled right into her but she refused to flinch. Obviously he knew she was lying but could he prove it? Would he even bother?

  “Are there any independent witnesses?” said Donaldson, looking up and down the street. But all the neighbours who had come out to watch had already scuttled back inside, not wanting to get caught up in an investigation. “It looks like it’s just your word Mr MacBride against his.”

  “Aye, which isn’t enough to haul anyone in,” said Brodie. “Anyway, you should be arresting this lot for abducting my pal.”

  “Your pal?”

  “DI McLaren, Glasgow City Centre.”

  “You mean a tall, loud man with a weird hairdo?”

  “Aye, that’s him.”

  “He’s driving down the street as we speak.”

  Brodie whipped round to see Pete’s Vauxhall Insignia speeding its way towards them. It pulled up wonkily at the kerb, the door was flung open and Pete hopped out.

  “Brodie, what the hell are you doing now?” he demanded. His eyes widened when Brodie charged up to him, arms wide. “Jeezo, what are you doing? Argh,” he cried when Brodie’s arms were thrown around his neck and he hugged him. “Get off you big poof. Do you want the entire city talking about us?”

  “I don’t care,” replied Brodie, still clinging on. “I thought the bats had got you.”

  “Nae fucking chance of that pal, they wouldnae dare.”

  “Then why weren’t you answering your phone? I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”

  “I left it on the sideboard at home.”

  “Shug at the station said you hadn’t turned up for work.”

  “I had to speak to a witness in an assault I’m investigating before I went in. My team knew where I was.”

  “You massive fanny.”

  “Hey, I charged here to your rescue when I got word that Brodie MacBride was on the rampage again, menacing batty bats and all I get is abuse.”

  “Stop being a jessie. I was worried sick about you.”

  “Well don’t, I can take care of myself. I am a big boy, as Janet is always telling me,” he grinned.

  “I’ve been going out of my bloody mind here.”

  “Nothing new there then.”

  Everyone - bats included - had gone quiet, listening to this exchange with something between disbelief and amusement.

  Donaldson’s temper grew short. “If you’ve quite finished,” he said, stomping up to them. “Sir,” he hastily added when Pete glared at him.

  “You know each other?” said Brodie.

  “Aye,” replied Pete. “I got wind of Cass being hauled in, so I went to the West End to see the good sergeant here, until he was called out to deal with this rammy. Right Donaldson, what’s the deal then?”

  “I’m arresting five of them for trespassing.”

  “And the rest?”

  “I can arrest them too Sir but we’ll need a bigger van.”

  “Aye, very good. Send the rest of the wallopers on their way but book that lot for trespassing.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Hand them over to your minions for processing. We need a wee chat.”

  “I had the feeling you were going to say that,” he sighed.

  “Excuse me,” said Abel, striding up to them, bursting with his own self-importance, jabbing a finger in Cass’s direction. “Why isn’t she under arrest for assaulting our glorious leader?”

  “Boris Johnson?” said Donaldson, dead-pan, making Brodie and Pete chuckle.

  “I mean Malachi,” he spluttered.

  “Lack of evidence. It’s his word against hers.”

  “But we saw her assault him.”

  “And I have five witnesses who swear she was nowhere near your glorious leader when he was headbutted, which means either you’re lying or they are.”

  Abel’s lips pursed. “You haven’t heard the last of this. Your career’s finished, you hear? Finished.”

  Donaldson fixed him with a hard stare. “Go away.”

  Flushing with humiliation, Abel stomped off. With a nod he and the rest of the security team leapt back into the van and the rest of the disciples began to meander away.

  “Thank God for that,” breathed Mason. He let his bag drop to the ground and wiped the sweat from his face on the backs of his shirt sleeves.

  Brodie chuckled. “You know, you’re no’ bad Donaldson.”

  “This isn’t funny Brodie and you are a heartbeat away from being lifted. With all due respect Sir,” he continued when Pete scowled at him. “This isn’t your patch and I know I’m not being told the whole truth here.”

  “That’s why I’m here Sergeant, to illuminate you,” replied Pete. “Well let’s no’ stand around here like a bunch of lassies waiting for a bus. Let’s go back to your office Brodie.” Pete’s brow creased. “You alright pal? You’re looking a wee bit peaky.”

  “Just tired,” he replied.

  A concerned Cass came up beside him and took his hand. “Let’s get you back.”

  He gave her a small smile and nodded.

  “I’ll meet you at the office,” said Pete, getting in his car. “We’ll see you there too Sergeant.”

  “Yes Sir,” he sighed.

  “We’ve moved offices,” said Brodie. “Donaldson will show you the way.”

  “You told him where it was before me?”

  “He didnae gie’ us a choice.”

  CHAPTER 22

  By the time they arrived at the Bath Street office Brodie was so tired he found it hard to put one foot in front of the other.

  “Jesus, what happened?” said Elliott, leaping to his feet. “You alright Bossman?”

  “Fine. Just a bit scunnered.”

  “Get some rest,” Cass t
old him. “I’ll deal with all this.”

  “Aye, thanks hen,” he said, kissing her before ambling into the bedroom.

  “Do you think we should call a doctor?” Cass asked Gardner. “He keeps refusing to see one but what if he’s really ill?”

  “I think he’s fine,” said Gardner. “He just needs to sleep off the effects of the drugs. He’ll be right as rain in a day or two.”

  “You really think so?”

  He patted her hand. “I do.”

  “That makes me feel better. You can let go of my hand now.”

  “Sorry,” he said, relinquishing her with a blush on his cheeks.

  Donaldson and Pete stomped in together, neither of them looking very happy.

  “Right,” announced Donaldson. “Is someone finally going to tell me what the hell is going on? And where is Brodie?”

  “Gone for a lie down,” replied Cass. “He’s still feeling rough.”

  “After being injected?”

  “Yes.”

  “Injected?” said Mason.

  Everyone ignored him.

  Donaldson looked to Pete. “Do you know about that Sir?”

  “Aye I do and call me Pete, for Christ’s sake. All this Sir business makes me feel a hundred years old.”

  “Brodie’s explained why he hasn’t reported the abduction but I still think he should. If Malachi did this to one person he’s doing it to others and those people need help, which they can’t get until a formal complaint is made.”

  “Brodie’s told you his reasons and that’s that,” said Cass. “He won’t press charges so we need to find another way.”

  Pete spotted the ring on her finger. “So the walloper finally plucked up the courage to propose.”

  “He did,” she said, her smile lighting up her eyes.

  “Congratulations hen,” he said, embracing her.

  “Thanks Pete.”

  “You’re engaged to Brodie?” said Donaldson.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Wow, that’s a bit of a shock.”

  “Why?” she frowned.

  “Well, he’s a bit older than you.”

  “So?”

  “And that…well, I….” He took in all their smiling faces and sighed. “I wish I’d kept my trap shut.”