“Can we trust him?” Cass asked Brodie as they watched Donaldson through the window overseeing Cain and Abel, who were being put into the back of another car, both of them singing hymns loudly and out of tune.
“I don’t know,” replied Brodie. “I hope to Christ Pete has something up his sleeve.”
They lapsed into silence when two officers took the front seats and they set off. Fear gripped Brodie when he realised they weren’t heading in the direction of the police station, not fear for himself but fear for Cass.
“Oy you two,” he said to the two officers. “Where the hell are we going?”
“The Sarge said we’d to take you somewhere else,” replied one of them.
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
As Brodie’s hands had been cuffed before him as a courtesy he was able to grab the seatbelt of the officer sat in front of him and yanked it tight, making him cry out and flail.
“Tell me where we’re going before I cut you in half.”
“We’ve to take you to DI McLaren.”
“Where?”
“At his house.”
“Then why nick us?”
“I don’t know, Donaldson didn’t tell us. Please Brodie, I’m gonnae end up with bruises and my missus gets so suspicious.”
Brodie released him and he gasped with relief.
“I remember you,” Brodie told him. “You’re a straight up polis, so we’ll go along with your wee plan but if you’re lying to us I’ll wrap this seatbelt around your ball sack and twist until your nuts drop off.”
“Still a ball-breaker Brodie.”
“Aye and don’t you forget it. You gonnae take the cuffs off then?”
“After that threat, hell no.”
Pete was waiting for them at his front door.
“Thank God for that,” said Cass.
“Told you so,” said the officer who Brodie had attacked with a seatbelt.
“Sorry about the pal,” said Brodie. “But you can’t blame us for being suspicious.”
“Maybe,” he sniffed.
“Tell you what, if you ever need help with anything, just let me know. It’ll be on the house.”
“Alright,” he muttered. “Apology accepted.”
“Nice one.”
Brodie and Cass were freed from their cuffs and allowed to get out of the car.
“Hey you,” Brodie said to Pete. “What the hell are you playing at?”
“Keep your voice down you walloper and get in the house. There’s something you need to know.”
Brodie and Cass followed him inside while the two officers who’d escorted them drove off.
“Hi Morgan,” said Cass, pleased to see one of her best friends on the couch feeding her son Noah with a bottle.
“Cass, Brodie,” she smiled back. “It’s good to see you both safe.”
“Safe?” said Cass. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“There’s been quite a bit going on,” said Pete. “Sit down. Do you want a brew?”
“Not with the cheap shitey teabags you buy,” replied Brodie.
“Charming.”
“So, what’s been happening then?”
“First of all, Ray McLure died of a heart attack. Right before he croaked he took a phone call. From Glasgow.”
“Malachi,” frowned Brodie.
“There was a reason why the initial investigation into Samantha’s death stalled.”
“Let me guess - Ray was a bat?”
He nodded. “The other detective he talked about who worked the case with him was a sergeant while Ray was a DCI. He suspected Ray had covered for Malachi, that he’d fallen under his spell but he couldn’t make a fuss about it without evidence or damaging his career. When he saw Malachi rising to prominence and wielding so much power he decided to voice his suspicions…”
“And got run over and killed for his trouble.”
“Probably but I can’t prove it. I only found this out because I spoke to his wife. He made the mistake of warning Ray first, out of respect. There’s only one sleepy plod in the whole of Plockton, so he was happy to let me have a poke about Ray’s cottage. His wife died years ago, he never remarried. He has one daughter but she lives in Johannesburg, so there was no family to object.”
“And what did you find pal?”
“Lots of religious iconography, which isn’t weird in itself. But the walls of one of the spare bedrooms were plastered with pictures of Malachi, most of which had been cut out of newspapers. There was also a little shrine to him. It seems his followers see him as a divine being, no’ the shite merchant he actually is. One of the newspaper cuttings was dated to when Malachi took over the church.”
“So Ray’s been one of his minions from the start?”
“Aye, he has. It’s a shame because he was a good copper with a good record.”
“Bugger,” sighed Brodie. He’d rather liked old Ray. “Listen pal, before you had us lifted we rescued a bat who’s willing to tell us everything about the church.”
“I know, which is why I had you lifted. Thank Christ you let me know where you were so I could get Donaldson there in time. Malachi’s been talking to Frederick Dyke and Brett Martins. Aye you might look like that,” said Pete, eyes flicking between Brodie and Cass. “They complained of threats and intimidation from the pair of you. Both of them have contacts, who they went whinging to and now there are warrants out for your arrest.”
“The manky wee cowards,” exploded Brodie. He thought of the footage Cass had taken of Brett telling her what he wanted to do to her. That was going to find itself leaked onto the internet.
“What contacts?” said Cass.
Brodie was so proud of how calm his goddess-fiancée was.
“The Deputy Chief Constable, the Procurator Fiscal and the sodding owner of two TV stations.”
“Pricks, the lot of them,” said Brodie.
“Aye they are but they’re powerful pricks who could boot me off the force if they find out you’re no’ locked up in the jail.”
“Sorry pal,” said Brodie, patting his shoulder. “I know you’ve put your neck on the line for us.”
“Aye I have and so has Donaldson. I think the lad’s proved himself.”
“So what do we do now?” said Cass.
“We need to speak to Steven,” said Brodie. “Get him to spill the beans on Malachi, then you can go and nick him.”
“Unless he’s got proof other than his word it won’t be enough,” said Pete. “And you know it.”
“We don’t know what he has. Let’s get over there and talk to him.”
“Aye, alright then.” Pete looked to Morgan. “You and the sprog are coming with us. I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“We’ll be fine here, surely?”
“Malachi’s on the warpath. I wouldnae put anything past him. Actually, you don’t want to get caught up in this. You’re better staying at your da’s place.”
“Okay then Uncle Pete, if it makes you feel better.”
“It does. We’ll drop you both off then we’ll go to the office.”
They didn’t discuss the case until Morgan and Noah were safely inside her dad’s house, not wanting her to get caught up in their mess.
“I thought Donaldson was too squeaky clean to let two prisoners go,” Brodie said to Pete.
“He didn’t let you go, he transferred you into my custody, so technically you’re both still under arrest and being good citizens by helping me out with a case. So don’t go doing a runner or my heid will be on the block.”
“We wouldnae do that to you pal.”
“We really appreciate what you’ve done for us Pete,” said Cass. “Don’t we Brodie?”
“Aye, course we do. So what’s Donaldson up to then?”
“He’s at Ricky’s hospital speaking to Nervous Neville.”
“You were quick to palm that off onto him.”
“Some hands-on experience with a loon will do him good.”
“I think he’s already had enough of that with all the serial killers he’s brought down,” said Cass.
“You can never have too much experience with twitchy wee loons,” said Pete with an evil smile.
“You’re right pal,” grinned Brodie. “That’s experience he needs.”
They entered the Bath Street office to find Mason in uproar.
“Oy princess,” Brodie told him. “The only person who has a drama in my office is me.”
“I’m entitled to have a drama. I’ve just been sacked.”
“Sacked?”
“Aye, for printing that story about Malachi and his dead wife.”
“The editor can’t sack you if they gave you permission.”
“She didn’t sack me, it was the newspaper owner. The editor barely clung onto her job.”
“Who owns that newspaper?”
“Lord Cecil Downton Betchel Hawthorne-De Clare.”
Brodie blinked at him. “Did you just make that up?”
“No I didn’t, it’s the sod’s real name,” he exclaimed.
“Jeezo, I’d hate to have to spell that one out over the phone. You’d be at it all day.”
“I don’t care about his name, I care about my job,” yelled Mason. “I love being a journalist.”
Brodie actually felt sorry for him, he looked so sad. Christ, he must be going soft. “Well don’t you worry pal. We’re gonnae gie’ you the scoop of a lifetime and every paper in the country will be throwing jobs at you.”
“Really?” he said, hope lighting up his eyes.
“Aye, really. So let’s put our heids together and see what we can come up with.” Brodie looked to Steven, who was slumped on the couch nursing a scotch. “Who gave him the whisky?” he demanded. “He looks blootered.”
“He needed something to calm him down,” said Christian. “I only gave him a wee nip but it went straight to his head.”
“I’ve not had a drink in ages,” said Steven, slurring slightly.
“Someone make him a strong coffee,” said Brodie. “We need him to tell us about the church.”
“He’s already been talking Bossman,” said Ross. “We’ve recorded his statement.”
“Nice one lads. Did you find a tracking device on him?”
“In the turn-ups of his trousers,” replied Elliott meaningfully.
“Sneaky bat bastards.” Brodie knelt before Steven. “Hey pal.”
Steven regarded him with hazy eyes and gave him a languid smile. Brodie realised it wasn’t just the drink affecting him, it was relief. Months of fear and worry were oozing out of him. “Yeah?”
“Did you ever meet anyone called Mary Strachan?”
“Aye, I know Mary.”
“Brilliant. Where is she?”
“She’s dead.”
Brodie felt like he’d been punched. “What?” he breathed.
“They took her to the Edinburgh compound for adjustment therapy. She didn’t survive the electric shock treatment.”
“Electric shock treatment?” exploded Brodie. “Sorry,” he said in a softer voice when Steven jumped.
“They say it helps drive out the devils. If anyone acts in a way they don’t like they blame it on devils possessing the body. They use the EST to drive them out. They only use it on the most stubborn, those who can’t be adjusted with the usual methods.”
“How do you know she died?” said Brodie, distraught. He’d entertained such hopes of bringing that brave wee lassie home.
“I have a friend who stays in the Edinburgh compound. He used to be in Glasgow until he got shifted there because he’s a psychiatrist. He has to help work on forcing the worst transgressors to conform. He was there when it happened. They have this psycho who works the EST. He’s a professional doctor but he’s a lunatic who enjoys inflicting pain. He got struck off for prescribing unnecessary treatments to patients just because he got a kick out of it. He got carried away, set the voltage too high and fried her. I asked him about Mary because we became friends at the Glasgow compound. I tried to get her moved from the kitchens because this big horrible cow called Barbara was beating her but no one would listen to me.”
“How do you communicate with this friend?” said Cass while Brodie looked down at the floor, heartbroken. “And can you trust what he says?”
“We bought disposable mobile phones, so they can’t be traced. I keep mine wrapped in a bag in a drain at the compound. I don’t know where Victor hides his. We text each other when we have information we want to exchange. I can trust him because he wants out but he knows if he tries to leave they’ll kill him. They threatened to harm his parents too. He’s terrified. Victor’s like my brother, he would never betray me.”
“If you text each other how do you know it’s him sending the messages?”
“Because no one else knows about the phones.”
“When was the last time you spoke to him over the phone or face to face?”
“Not for about three weeks now.”
“Did you tell him about Brodie? That you were going to ask him to help you escape the church?”
The last of Steven’s drunkenness vanished. “Yes but it was him I was messaging, I know it.”
“How do you know?”
“I…I…”
“That’s why they were all waiting for us,” said Brodie. “Malachi didn’t use his powers to see what was going on your heid. Someone found your phone.”
“Oh my God. What have I done?” wailed Steven before bursting into tears.
“It’s no’ your fault,” he said, patting his shoulder. “You got out, you were strong enough to break through Malachi’s web of shite. That means you’re bloody tough pal, not many have managed that.”
This cheered him up and he smiled. “I beat him.”
“Aye ya did.”
Steven leapt to his feet. “Get it right up ya’ Malachi.” He grinned at the room. “God that felt good. Ha, you hear that? I took the Lord’s name in vain and I’m not even sorry.” He threw back his head and released a maniacal laugh.
“How did you get hooked into the bats in the first place?” said Brodie when he eventually went silent.
Steven looked blank. “Sorry?”
“He means how did you end up joining the church?” translated Cass.
“Well, I was going through a bad time. I’d realised something.”
“What?” said Ross when he went silent.
“That I, well…liked men.”
“You mean you’re gay?” said Cass. “You can say it. There’s no shame in it.”
“I know but it’s hard for me after being in the church. They reeled me in by telling me they could help me deal with it. My family didn’t understand, my mum and stepdad threatened to disown me. My sister understood though,” he said fondly. “It was only once I was trapped in the church that I found out they believed homosexuality was wrong and they intended to drive out the devils that made me want men,” he said bitterly.
“That must have been so difficult for you,” said Cass, taking a seat beside him.
Brodie was happy to relinquish the conversation to her. She was much better at the deep and meaningful stuff than he was.
“It was,” he sighed. “It’s one reason me and Victor got on so well. He was in the exact same boat. He’s older than me so he became like a father figure, someone I could confide in.”
“What’s Victor’s last name?”
“Weber. He’s half German. Incredibly clever. He’s a gentle soul. What he’s having to do to people in that compound in Edinburgh is breaking him. I don’t know how much longer he can hold out. But if Malachi knows we’ve been communicating then he might be being punished, or even worse.”
“Which makes it even more urgent that we bring the church down as soon as possible,” said Brodie. “Is there anything you can tell us that will help us do that?”
“You won’t get enough people to give evidence against him in court, not while he’s still so powerful. Any leg
al routes will be blocked and you’ve seen what he does to those who print stuff about him in the papers. So, I thought the best way to bring him down is by exposing the financial irregularities in the church’s funding.”
“Higher Light is a recognised religion,” said Mason. “So it’s tax-exempt. I’ve already tried that route, believe me.”
“But they’re not above the Charity Commission. I read about some bishop who’d been done for misappropriating funds and got two years in prison. All the money donated to the church must go to the church, not into Malachi’s personal bank account.”
“You’ve got evidence of this?” said Pete.
“No.”
They all sighed with disappointment.
“But I know where you can get it. He tells new recruits and existing members that all money donated to the church goes back into the church. Initially it does. All money is paid into the church’s account before half of it is siphoned off into other accounts in different names. The majority of this money is sent abroad and laundered before being returned to an account in the name of one of Malachi’s aliases, clean and from a seemingly innocent source.”
“How do you know this?” said Mason. “I’ve gone deep into the church’s financial history.”
“Have you ever snuck into the Treasurer’s office at the Glasgow compound and looked at the computer?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well I have and I nearly got caught. If the Treasurer hadn’t been blinded by hay fever I would have been. He popped out of his office because he was sneezing his head off and had run out of tissues. He left the computer switched on and logged in.”
“Did you manage to get any proof?”
“No but it’s there, on the Treasurer’s computer.”
“Someone pass me the map Elaine drew,” said Brodie.
Christian produced it from the file of paperwork they’d brought from the last office and handed it to him. Brodie spread the map out before Steven. “Where’s the Treasurer’s office?”
“There, on the first floor, next door to Malachi’s office.”
“He has his own office? I’d love to know what’s in there.”
“I hope you’re no’ thinking about breaking in,” said Pete. “You’re already in enough trouble.”
“It’s worth it if we finally get Malachi.”
The Devil Inside Page 31
