The Devil Inside

by Heather Atkinson

  “How did it go?” she said when Brodie got back in the car.

  “Good. Neville spilled his guts. I’ll play the recording back at the office for everyone to hear, it’s not something I want to hear more than twice.”

  “It’s unpleasant then?” she said, starting the engine.

  “To say the least hen.”

  “About bloody time,” said Mason. “What took you so long?”

  “Neville had a long story to tell,” replied Brodie. “Why are you all sweaty and edgy?”

  “My solicitor called. Higher Light are suing me for defamation. We have to bring them down before the case gets to court.”

  “Aye, because that’s our priority.” He looked to Steven. “Are you up to hearing this?”

  He nodded solemnly. “This might sound bad but it’ll help me to know other people have gone through the same thing.”

  “Alright son.”

  Brodie settled himself onto the couch, placed the dictaphone on the coffee table and they all gathered around to listen. As there were no seats left Ross sat on the floor cross-legged like a little boy listening to a teacher giving a lesson. The atmosphere in the room grew darker and heavier as Neville’s halting voice spoke of beatings, sleep and food deprivation, torture and confinement. He’d even been given a dose of the EST that had killed Mary Strachan.

  “The poor sod,” said Pete when the recording had finished. “No wonder he ended up barking like a dog and dragging his arse across the floor.”

  “He went through more than I did,” said Steven sadly. “I was never tied up and branded with irons and I never had the EST.”

  “He showed me the scars,” said Brodie. “They were in the shape of the letters ‘M’ and ‘S’.”

  “Like the shop?” said Ross.

  “Is he fucking serious?” said Mason.

  Brodie frowned at Ross, who flushed bright red. “Fanny.”

  “I’m guessing the ‘M’ is for Malachi,” said Elliott. “But what about the ‘S’?”

  “Sinner,” said Steven. “Whatever he did to offend Malachi would have been blamed on the devils inside him. The pain from the branding would have been used to drive them out.”

  “Did you ever know of anyone being branded?” Brodie asked him.

  “I heard people screaming in pain from The Breach and of course I knew they were being tortured but I didn’t know how. You’re not allowed to ask who’s in The Breach or what goes on in there. If you do there’s a good chance you’ll end up down there too. There was this man called Peter. His wife was a member of the church as well. One day she got taken down to The Breach. Malachi said devils had got inside her because she wanted to leave with their four year old child, who was in the church’s nursery. Peter told Malachi what she was planning.”

  “He grassed on his own wife?” said Brodie.

  “He did. It was only when his wife was locked in The Breach and he could hear her screaming that he came to his senses.”

  “What did they do to her?”

  “I don’t know but when she came back up she was totally changed, like a blank piece of paper. Really creepy. She never mentioned her child again.”

  “It was that dirty doctor with his nasty wee injections,” hissed Brodie.

  “Doctor?” said Mason. “What doctor’s this?”

  “Don’t you worry, we’ll tell you all about that.”

  “When?”

  Brodie’s glare pinned him to his seat. “Soon.”

  “Did you believe what Neville the wee dug told you?” said Pete.

  “Aye I did but sadly he’s a sectioned mental health patient.”

  “So everything he told you is useless?” said Mason, looking to Pete for confirmation.

  “Even if his doctor did give permission for him to give evidence in court,” said Pete. “Which I doubt he would, Neville would probably fall apart on the stand. And who’s gonnae believe what a sectioned mental health patient says?”

  “Bastard,” huffed Mason, stamping his foot. He looked to Steven. “You’re the only one who can speak out. You have to.”

  “To save your career?” he frowned.

  “Not just that. Malachi has to be stopped before things get even worse.”

  “But it’ll be my word against his.”

  Mason’s lip curled. “You’re scared.”

  “And you’re not?” he retorted.

  “We need more than word of mouth,” said Brodie. “Nae offence Steven but you’re still recovering from your ordeal. A strong defence lawyer could pull you apart on the stand.”

  “He’s right there Steven,” said Gardner. “You’re in a fragile state.”

  “But we have to do something,” he exclaimed.

  “What we need is hard proof,” said Brodie. “Something Malachi can’t deny. As we’ve been banned from going anywhere near the compound we have to find it elsewhere.”

  “I still think we should dig deeper into the Samantha angle,” said Cass. “Especially now we know her best friend’s something to do with it.”

  “And when you mentioned her name Malachi got all twitchy.”

  She looked to Mason. “Is there anyone else we could speak to about her murder? Parents or other relatives?”

  “Her mother died when Samantha was just a kid and her dad’s in a home with early onset dementia. No siblings. There was one other person I intended to speak to - the next door neighbour. She’s away on holiday at the moment, she’s due back in a few days. I’ve arranged to talk to her on her return. She was very keen to talk to me, she said she has a lot of interesting information.”

  “Maybe you should have waited to talk to her before publishing your article?” said Pete.

  “I couldn’t. Malachi was putting pressure on me. I found out my cameraman’s working for him.”

  “What?” said Brodie. “Why didn’t you mention this sooner?”

  “Because I felt like an idiot, okay? Here I was thinking Malachi had super powers, able to know instinctively what I was up to when all along it was Bobby. I’m supposed to be an investigative journalist for God’s sake.”

  “How do you know he’s a bat?”

  “I dropped a listening device into his coat pocket just after you came to my office.”

  “Are you saying that you’ve been recording everything that walloper’s been up to for a whole week?”

  “Aye I have.”

  “Well why didn’t you say?” Brodie erupted.

  “Because until this morning he didn’t do anything suspicious. I’ve had to listen to him at the footie and trying to chat up tarts in the pub with the worst lines you’ve ever heard.”

  “He can’t be part of the church,” said Steven. “Following sports and going to pubs is strictly prohibited.”

  “He’s not a disciple, he’s being paid by Malachi to watch me.”

  “Paid how much?”

  “Ten grand, the greedy wee sod.”

  “Hold on a sec,” said Pete. “Are you seriously saying that you’ve got on tape Malachi saying that he’s paying this Bobby ten grand to spy on you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’ve got him. That’s no’ legal.”

  “But with his lawyers he’ll only get a slap on the wrist,” said Brodie. “It’s no’ enough.”

  “It’s a start. You could use it Mason to deflect some of the heat from being sued.”

  “Like you said, it’s not enough,” he said miserably.

  Donaldson was at his desk at the station, cooing down the phone to his six year old son Petie, who had just got home from school and was bursting to tell him about the football match he’d played in.

  “Two goals? That’s amazing wee man,” smiled Donaldson. “Aye, hopefully I’ll be back home for tea. Is your mum there? Hi babe,” he said when his wife Freya came on the line. “I should be back for five today.”

  “Good,” she replied. “Because I was followed today.”

  His grip on the phone tightened. “What?”


  “I walked to the school to pick up Petie. On the way back I noticed we were tailed by those creeps in black from that weird church.”

  “Higher Light?”

  “That’s the one. They followed us right to the house.”

  He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, even though he was the only one in the office. “This is what I want you to do babe - pack a bag and take Petie to the address I’m going to text you. I’ll clock off early and meet you there.”

  “Craig, what’s going on?”

  “I’ve been dragged into an investigation into the church and they’re not taking it kindly. These people are dangerous. Please Freya, I need you to do as I ask.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “Straightaway, please.”

  “I will, as long as you promise to tell me what’s happening.”

  “Course I will. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  He hung up and immediately texted Freya the address of Brodie MacBride’s safe house. He dragged his hands down his face. The church had got wind that he was working against them and he was being targeted. After what they’d done to Brodie he wasn’t taking any chances with his wife and child.

  DS John Malcolmson walked into the office, the sergeant Malachi had wanted to work on the assault case against Cass Carlisle but he’d been off sick. He still wasn’t right, he was bunged up with a cold but he’d come back to work anyway, no doubt at the behest of his lord and master.

  “Alright Craig?” said John. “You look tense.”

  Donaldson thought he looked equally tense, his beady black eyes full of suspicion. “I’m fine thanks but you look like crap. You should be at home in bed, not here. There’s plenty of us to cover for you.”

  “I’m fine. Who was on the phone?”

  “Petie. He scored two goals in the footie match at school today.”

  “Football is a distraction.”

  “Distraction? From what?”

  “There are much better things to enjoy in life, like emotional and spiritual development.”

  “I think you’ve got more than a cold. You’ve got a fever that’s causing delusions.”

  “I’ve never seen things so clearly before. I could introduce you to the people who helped me. They’ve enriched my life so much. They’re having a meeting this evening. Why don’t you come along? You could bring Freya.”

  “Not a bloody chance,” retorted Donaldson. “I know you’re involved with that cult.”

  “Higher Light is not a cult,” he hissed.

  “Of course it is. Wake up John.”

  When John took a few aggressive steps towards him, Donaldson shot to his feet. John came to a halt, well aware of his colleague’s impressive reputation.

  “I know what you’re up to with that sinner MacBride,” said John. “You tell him from us that he will fall, just like his lord and master Satan.”

  “Listen to yourself John. You sound crazy.”

  “Those who see clearest seem crazy to those who are blind.”

  “Or those who seem crazy are just bloody crazy.” He grabbed John by the front of his shirt and dragged him towards him. “Your little pals in black followed my wife and son home from school. Why?”

  “You get in bed with the devil expect to be tainted by his infection. The same devils that possess him are now in you. But there is hope brother,” he said, eyes wild and zealous. “Malachi can drive them out.”

  “Listen to me John. My family are sod all to do with this. You run back to Malachi and tell him that if he goes anywhere near them I will kill him.”

  “How dare you threaten the saviour of us all?”

  “Don’t be a dick. Malachi doesn’t care about your soul. All he wants to do is control you and you’re letting him.”

  “You’ve not a fucking clue about him,” he snarled.

  “He’s a man who intimidates women and children and destroys families. That’s all I need to know about the creep.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Make sure your friends stay away from my wife and son, or I’ll take it out on you. You get it?”

  John just smiled. “Your threats are meaningless when I have the Lord’s protection.”

  “Not even he will protect you from me. If Freya or Petie get hurt because of you lot, the stuff I’ll do to you will make the devil throw up.”

  With that he shoved John over, who fell onto his back. Donaldson stepped right over him as he left.

  Everyone looked to the door of the safe house with trepidation in their eyes when the buzzer went.

  “Malachi can’t have found us here,” said Cass.

  “I wouldnae put anything past that bastard,” said Brodie.

  Elliott frowned at the monitor on the wall. “It’s a woman with a wean.”

  “What?” said Brodie, stepping up to the screen. “She’s no bat.”

  “But she’s dressed all in black.”

  “Look at her make-up, she’s a goth.”

  “Women in the church aren’t allowed to wear make-up,” said Steven.

  “Do you recognise her?”

  Steven peered at the screen. “No.”

  “Hello,” the woman said into the monitor. “Is anyone in there?”

  “Aye,” said Brodie. “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Freya Donaldson. DS Craig Donaldson is my husband. Me and my son were followed home from school today by some members of Higher Light. I called Craig and he told me to come here.”

  “Come on up doll,” said Brodie, buzzing the door open for her.

  “I’ll call Donaldson,” said Pete. “For all we know this is a trick.”

  “I don’t think it is,” said Ross. “I remember her from all the newspapers articles about the killings in Ayrshire. It looks like her.”

  Donaldson answered the phone just as there was a knock at the door.

  “Wait,” Brodie told Ross when he went to open it. “Let Pete check her out first.”

  “Did you send your wife and son here?” Pete said into the phone. “Aye, alright pal. See you soon.” He hung up and looked to Ross. “It’s her.”

  Ross opened the door and in walked Freya Donaldson holding the hand of her little boy. She looked a little non-plussed to see so many people staring at her.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hello,” they replied in unison.

  “Have you spoken to Craig?”

  “Aye I have,” said Pete. “He’s on his way here.”

  “Higher Light have been following you?” said Cass.

  “They have, the creepy sods.”

  Cass smiled. There wasn’t a hint of fear in Freya’s voice but then again, she’d been exposed to much worse in her time.

  Cass made the introductions before seating Freya and Petie down at the small table at the back of the room.

  “Coffee?” she asked Freya.

  “Please.”

  “We’ve got some orange juice for this handsome chap, if he wants some?”

  Cass smiled down at Petie, who beamed up at her.

  “That’s great, thanks,” said Freya.

  “What’s your name fella?” Cass asked him.

  “Petie,” he replied, beaming at her with his most charming smile.

  “That’s a good name,” said Pete. “I’m called Pete.”

  Petie giggled shyly.

  “Your husband’s here,” Ross told her when the buzzer frantically went. He pressed the button and ten seconds later Donaldson burst into the office, his eyes searching the room. “Freya,” he exclaimed, racing to her and pulling her and their son into a hug.

  Cass smiled at the touching scene, the affection between the three of them was obvious.

  “Are you okay?” Donaldson anxiously asked his wife.

  “We’re fine,” replied Freya. “They didn’t do anything, apart from follow us.”

  “The wankers,” he hissed.

  “Aww, Daddy said a naughty word,” chuckled Petie.

 
; “Sorry Son,” he said, kissing the top of his head. He straightened up and looked to Brodie. “Thanks for letting them in.”

  “Well we were hardly gonnae leave them standing out on the street,” he replied.

  “Do you like to draw Petie?” Cass asked him.

  “Yay,” he grinned, clapping his hands together.

  “Here you go,” she said, providing him with multi-coloured pens and a pile of paper. “And there’s your juice.”

  The boy happily settled at the table, picked up a pen and lost himself in his drawing, leaving them free to talk.

  “I confirmed that DS John Malcolmson who I work with is definitely a member of Higher Light,” said Donaldson. “He told me just before I left the office. He says I’ve been infected with the same devils you have Brodie.”

  “Sounds like their typical shite,” he replied.

  “Please don’t swear in front of my son.”

  Brodie’s eyes clouded with confusion. “I didn’t swear.”

  “You said…never mind. Who else does Malachi have in his pay at my station and every other station in the city?”

  “God knows.”

  “I always thought John was alright but he was a different person today. It was pretty sad.”

  Brodie looked to Gardner. “You’ve got a lot of insight into cults. What do you think Malachi will do now?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that and the answer lies in his psychology. He’s all about control. He’s a weak, vain man who uses his abilities to make himself feel powerful. At some point in his life that power was taken from him. If you find out when that happened then you find his Achilles’ heel.”

  “But that could have happened any time and his history’s really vague, especially his childhood.”

  “Haven’t you realised yet? It was Samantha who took his power from him.”

  “Did she have an affair?”

  “No,” said Mason. “If she had I would have found out.”

  “Malachi doesn’t see things like normal men,” said Gardner. “It could have been something another man wouldn’t have thought twice about.”

  “Like what?” said Pete.

  “How should I know?”

  “I’ll do some digging,” said Cass, powering up her laptop. “Mason, you can help.”