The Devil Inside

by Heather Atkinson

  “At last, something to do,” he said, opening up his own computer.

  “Steven,” said Brodie. “Any ideas?”

  “Just that whatever you’re expecting Malachi to do, he’ll do the opposite. That’s how he keeps people on his toes. Members of the church constantly try to second guess him but in their case it’s in an attempt to please him. They’ve never been successful, not even his closest advisors who’ve known him since the church started. Can I call my sister yet? I can’t wait to speak to her.”

  “No,” said Pete. “The church will be monitoring her. You’ve seen what they’ve done to Donaldson’s family and Brodie’s. Do you want her to be next?”

  “No,” he sighed. “I just miss her so much.”

  “Soon. Just hang in there a bit longer.”

  “Are you and Petie staying with us until this is over?” Cass asked Freya. “It’s not a problem but if you are we need to move to a bigger safe house.”

  “I’d prefer it if you did,” Donaldson told his wife. “You’re too vulnerable at home.”

  “I’m running out of safe houses here,” said Brodie. “One’s already been compromised, this one’s now too small and two more of my places have women hiding out in them from their nasty bastard husbands. I can rent a place for a wee while. Christian, Elliott, find a house with at least five bedrooms to rent in the city and make sure it’s nowhere shite.”

  “That’ll cost a pretty penny,” said Pete.

  “I’ll claim it back on tax.”

  “It’s alright for some.”

  “How are Morgan and the wean at her da’s?” Brodie asked Elliott.

  “I sent them to stay with Morgan’s mum. She moved to Langbank when she divorced Richard. They’re well out of it.”

  “Good. Then you’re joining in our merry wee band all living together. I don’t want anyone on their own. Pete, you too. I don’t think your status as a polis will protect you any longer.”

  “Probably not,” said Pete. “Well, we’ll be very cosy.”

  “I’ll go home and pack our bags for a few days,” Donaldson told his wife.

  “Ross, go with him,” said Brodie.

  “Great,” he grinned. “Can you tell me about all that stuff that happened in Blair Dubh?”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” sighed Brodie.

  Donaldson’s look was hard. “No I can’t,” he told Ross.

  “Oh, okay.”

  The two men left and Brodie looked to Freya. “Sorry about that doll.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m used to it. People are fascinated by it all for some reason. It wasn’t any fun being in the middle of it though.”

  “I’ll bet. No one else is to mention it,” he told the room. “Understood?”

  “Shame,” Mason said to Freya. “I was hoping you’d give me an exclusive. You know, life four years after the Blair Dubh massacre.”

  “You’ll leave her alone,” Brodie told him. “You keep hassling her and I’ll hand you over to Malachi, alright?”

  “Fine,” he sighed. “You could make a fortune from your story though Freya.”

  “Cass, pass me my car keys,” said Brodie, glaring at Mason.

  He held up his hands. “I won’t say another word.”

  “That would be a sodding miracle.”

  “Can I look through your files about Samantha’s murder?” Cass asked Mason.

  He handed her the folder. “Help yourself.”

  “You know this case better than me. Can you think of anything Samantha might have done to take Malachi’s power from him?”

  “Was Samantha’s family wealthy?” said Gardner.

  “Yes they were,” replied Mason.

  “Was Malachi wealthy?”

  “No. His family was, until his father lost their money through gambling. It’s one reason Malachi turned to his con tricks to survive.”

  “That could have been enough to make him feel like he’d lost his power. Some men can’t handle their wives having more financial comfort than themselves.”

  “I don’t know why,” said Pete. “Sounds a pretty sweet deal to me.”

  “The neighbour’s back home from her holiday the day after tomorrow,” said Mason.

  “Cass will go with you to talk to her.”

  “Alright,” said Mason, thinking some alone time with Cass Carlisle wouldn’t exactly be a hardship. He gave her a wink, which she pointedly ignored.

  “I’ve found a house in Possilpark,” said Christian, gaze locked on his computer screen.

  “Keep looking,” replied Brodie.

  “How about Newark Drive near Maxwell Park then? That fancy enough for you Bossman?”

  “Aye, that’ll do.”

  “It’s got eight bedrooms though. Three grand per month. You’d have to rent it for the full month.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Listen to bloody Richard Branson here,” said Pete.

  “Feel free to chip in,” Brodie told him.

  “I’m good thanks.”

  “I thought you’d say that.”

  Cass looked to Freya. “Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’ll keep Petie off school for a few days, I won’t feel safe leaving him there. A nasty cold has been doing the rounds, I’ll tell them he’s come down with it.”

  Cass smiled and nodded. She was liking Freya more and more. She was calm and collected and was handling the situation admirably. It would have driven her demented to have around some bint prone to dramas.

  “Besides,” continued Freya. “Newark Drive’s a lovely road with big posh houses and leafy gardens. I’ll tell Petie it’s a wee holiday.”

  Christian turned the screen around for them all to see. “It comes part furnished too.”

  “That’s a bit bloody fancy,” said Pete. “It’s got chandeliers in the bathroom. You can’t have Brodie in a place like that.”

  “Hey you,” he retorted. “I can be classy when needed. What’s the number?” he asked Christian. “I’ll gie’ them a call.”

  Half an hour later they had their new temporary headquarters.

  “Well that’s one thing sorted,” said Brodie. “Everyone, go and get packed.”

  Steven, Mason, Gardner, Cass and Christian vanished into the bedrooms to pack while Elliott stuffed the laptops into bags, by which time Donaldson and Ross had returned.

  “There were a couple of bats hanging around the house,” Donaldson told them while Ross went to pack. “I saw them off but it makes me feel better that Freya and Petie are staying here.”

  “Actually they’re not,” said Brodie. “We’re moving headquarters to a house on Newark Drive. It’s got more room than this flat.”

  “Did you bring Petie’s pig?” Freya asked Donaldson.

  “Course I did. I wouldn’t leave without Piggle.”

  Brodie grinned as Donaldson knelt before his son and produced a large pink pig, putting on a silly squeaky voice, as though it was coming from the toy, making Petie laugh.

  “Maybe you’re no’ such a robot after all Donaldson,” said Brodie.

  “He can come across as a hard ass,” said Freya. “But he’s a teddy bear underneath.”

  “Teddy bear eh Donaldson?” said Brodie, eyes twinkling.

  “Bears bite,” he replied. “Don’t forget that.”

  Brodie’s smile fell. “Higher Light have my sister.”

  Donaldson straightened up and regarded him seriously. “What?”

  “She was standing at Malachi’s side at his latest rally in George’s Square. He got her to bad mouth me to the whole of Glasgow.”

  “Jesus that’s harsh. I’m sorry Brodie. We’ll get her back.”

  “And I’m here to counsel her,” said Gardner.

  Brodie just nodded, looking down at the floor so no one would see the emotion in his eyes.

  “We’ll get moved into the new place and then have a pow-wow,” said Pete, patting his shoulder. “Figure out what to do next.”

&nbs
p; “Aye,” sighed Brodie. The problem was he didn’t have the first clue what to do.

  CHAPTER 27

  Cass could hear the rumble of voices coming from the next room as she packed. The walls were thin, meaning the pain in Brodie’s voice was audible as he talked about Natalie.

  Ducking under the bed, she pulled aside the loose flap of carpet and removed the floorboard to reveal the box containing the syringe. The pleasure that filled her as she imagined shoving it into Malachi’s neck shocked her. Would it be so easy to do in the flesh as it was in her head, or would she freeze?

  She shoved the box into her bag, zipped it up and exited the bedroom carrying the bags.

  “Ready to go hen?” said Brodie, his words accompanied by his beautiful smile.

  “Nearly.” She retrieved the cactus from the windowsill. “Now I am.”

  “Come on you lot,” he yelled. “Hurry up.”

  Gardner and Steven emerged next, followed by Christian.

  “Where’s Ross?” said Brodie.

  “He’s just finishing up,” replied Christian. “You wouldn’t believe how fussy he is about how his clothes are folded.”

  Brodie banged a fist off his bedroom door. “Hurry up fanny baws before we leave you behind.”

  “For Christ’s sake, I’m here,” he said, flinging open the door and dragging his bag out with him.

  “Finally. Let’s go.” Brodie looked to Pete. “Have you got some clothes?”

  “I’ve got a bag I always keep in my car boot in case of emergencies.”

  “What, in case you shite yourself?” said Brodie, making Freya laugh.

  “You’re right babe, he is funny,” she told her husband.

  “I meant in case I have to stay anywhere overnight,” an indignant Pete told Brodie. “It sometimes happens in my line of work, as you well know.”

  “And Donaldson thinks I’m funny,” said Brodie.

  “A pain in the arse too,” he replied good-naturedly.

  They all piled downstairs and into the cars.

  “I hope this house has a big driveway,” Cass told Brodie, looking at the convoy behind them. With Pete’s car, Donaldson’s, Christian’s and Elliott’s as well as their own they were going to need it.

  The house was almost twenty minutes from the safe house but it took them longer to get there as Brodie had to collect the keys from the letting agent while the others split up and took different routes to the house, just in case they were followed.

  Newark Drive was indeed the quiet, leafy avenue Freya had promised, their house near the end of the row. Cass got out of the car with a whistle, gazing up at the house. “Very nice.”

  “What’s the big deal?” said Brodie. “It’s just a bigger version of ours.”

  “We don’t have chandeliers in the bathroom.”

  “And thank Christ for it.”

  The drive was just big enough to hold all their cars and they piled inside, their arrival hidden by the large hedges surrounding the property. Petie got a little overexcited and released a cheer before racing across the wooden floor, the racket making Brodie wince.

  “Woah, look at this,” said Pete. “Oak panelling. I never thought I’d stay in a place like this.”

  “It’s only temporary, so don’t get used to it,” said Brodie, relieved when Freya settled Petie down on the thick carpet on the floor of the huge living room with his toys.

  “Me and the lads will go out and get supplies,” said Elliott, pointing to Christian and Ross. “We’ll bring back beers and doughnuts too. And red wine for you Bossman. Brain food,” he grinned.

  “Nice one,” said Brodie.

  They dumped their bags on the floor and left.

  “Who’s gonnae sleep where?” said Pete.

  “Me and Cass get the master bedroom,” said Brodie. “I’m paying the bill so it’s only fair. Donaldson, Freya and the wean get the next biggest bedroom. The rest of you can sort yourselves out. Two of you will have to share though.”

  “I don’t share with anyone,” said Pete.

  “Because of your snoring,” said Brodie.

  “It’s much better, just ask Janet,” he snapped. “I’m gonnae claim my bedroom before the lads get back. We’ll leave them with the shittiest rooms, although I don’t think a place like this has shitty rooms.”

  After unpacking, the others returned with food and drink, bringing a bunch of takeaway pizzas with them and they all sat around the massive table in the dining room to eat and talk. The alcohol was passed around, which everyone got stuck into with gusto except Freya, who stuck to water. When she took Petie for a bath they finally got down to the real business.

  “So what the fuck are we going to do?” said Pete, leaning back in his chair and unfastening the top button of his trousers.

  “First on the agenda is to get my sister back,” growled Brodie, eyes turning dark and whisky-coloured. “But she’s one stubborn coo. It won’t be easy.”

  “She’ll be in the compound,” said Steven. “It won’t be easy getting in there.”

  “There’s that tunnel from the church.”

  “No,” said Pete. “Me and Donaldson have already told you that you are going nowhere near that compound.”

  “Then how am I supposed to get Natalie back?” he exclaimed.

  “We tried getting you out of the compound and it didn’t work,” said Cass. “It won’t work with Natalie either. You saw her, she’ll just refuse to leave.”

  “Then I’ll drag her out.”

  “You won’t be able to, they have too much security. They’ll have upgraded their system so it won’t be possible to short it out. You have to wait until she’s outside the compound.”

  “Malachi will keep her close,” said Steven. “Where he goes, she’ll go.”

  “We could plant a tracking device on one of them,” said Cass.

  “We’ll never get close enough,” said Brodie.

  “None of us will but someone Malachi doesn’t know might. He loves getting among the people so he can be adored by them. He even shakes their hands. What we need is an actor or an actress, a bloody good one.”

  “I know someone,” said Christian.

  “We can’t use someone close to us,” Brodie told him. “Malachi will have gone into depth about all our lives.”

  “He can’t possibly keep up with all my girlfriends.”

  “Smug git,” said Pete, taking a swig of lager.

  “Kelly’s an actress, she’s done a lot of the soaps and a few films too. She’s been a bit down on her lucky recently though, she got a bit fond of the Columbian marching powder, which is a shame because she’s really talented.”

  “So you’re saying she’d be willing to do it for a few quid?” said Pete.

  “Aye, that’s about the size of it.”

  “Would she have a problem planting a tracking device on someone?”

  “Not if she’s being paid well.”

  “Could you sound her out about it?” said Brodie.

  “Nae bother.”

  “Nice one son. So, the plan is to get the actress to plant the tracking device on Malachi and find something out about Samantha that we can wind him up with.”

  “At least we’ve got some sort of plan,” said Pete. “It makes me feel better. You’ve had another idea,” he added when his friend’s eyes filled with mischief.

  “We need to make the bats look like a bunch of dicks,” replied Brodie.

  “From what I’ve seen they manage that pretty well on their own,” said Donaldson, helping himself to another slice of pizza.

  “We need to expose them for what they really are,” he continued. “If we could film them getting nasty with some innocent - say a mother and her child - and plaster it all over the internet then it would do them huge damage.”

  “I hope by mother and child you’re not referring to Freya and Petie?” frowned Donaldson.

  “Or Morgan and Noah,” said Elliott.

  “The church know them,” said Bro
die. “So if they see them they will follow them.”

  “I am not exposing them to that danger,” said Donaldson.

  “Me neither,” said Elliott. “Sorry Bossman but this is out of line.”

  “I wouldnae do that to them.” Brodie dragged his hands down his face and sighed. “Christ, I can’t see straight anymore.”

  “I like the track you’re on though pal,” said Pete. “Just no’ the method. We need to think it through a bit more.”

  “That’s the problem, I can’t think anymore. The more I think about it the more blocked I get.”

  “Then don’t think about it, just for one night. Let’s drink, get pished and have a laugh.”

  “Aye, I could do with some of that.”

  They moved the party into the large comfortable lounge, Cass cradling a glass of wine and sinking into Brodie’s arms, feeling relaxed for the first time in days. Their odd little group was at ease together, although they did have to hold Steven back from indulging too hard in the alcohol.

  Freya returned to the lounge with a freshly-washed Petie in his pyjamas, who was happy to settle back down with his colouring before bed.

  “There you go hen,” said Pete, holding a can of lager out to her. “Get that down your neck.”

  “No thanks,” she politely replied, sitting beside her husband, who wrapped an arm around her.

  “Go on, take a drink. It’ll relax you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “It’s Tennents, the good stuff.”

  “I don’t drink. I’m a recovering alcoholic.”

  This statement put an abrupt end to the relaxed banter. Pete’s cheeks turned pink and he put down the can sheepishly, as well as his own. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay.” She picked up his can and held it out to him. “I don’t drink but I don’t begrudge anyone else.”

  “I couldnae, it wouldn’t feel right.”

  “Just drink it. I know you want to,” she said, waving it before his face with a smile.

  He hesitated before snatching it from her and taking a big gulp. “You know doll, you’re alright.”

  “You’re honoured,” Brodie told her. “That’s a huge compliment coming from that walloper.”

  “In that case thank you,” she told Pete, who grinned. Freya turned to Cass to chat. As they were the only women in a large group of men they’d naturally gravitated towards one another and were getting on very well.