Angels Bleed (Fallen Angels Book 1)

by Max Hardy

  Dr Ennis stood up in front of Saul and looked admiringly at his inflicted stigmata. He picked up another nail and twirled it in his fingers in front of Saul’s eyes.

  ‘Neither of them were moving. I checked their pulses. Michael was dead and Rebecca was heavily sedated. Sometimes,’ Dr Ennis started, crouching down again, smiling at Saul, ‘circumstances are opportune.’ he continued as he placed the tip of the nail against Saul’s scrotum and let the head of the hammer gently tap against it. ‘I had the opportunity to take my New Year’s Day heart, incriminate Rebecca for a murder and mess her mind up so bad, that she would be under my care, under my domination, for a very, very long time.’ He lifted the hammer, eyes shining with delirium and pummelled the nail straight through Saul’s scrotum.

  Saul’s face contorted as he tried to contain the excruciating pain, tension screaming through his pulsing veins, his eyes bulging, circling wildly, frantically deranged.

  Dr Ennis stood between Saul’s thighs and raised a hand to his chest, massaging the skin around his heart, letting his fingernail impress themselves into the pliant flesh.

  ‘So I ripped the skin open on Michael’s chest, rived the ribs apart and tore out his still warm heart. His blood started to seep onto the bed so I rolled Rebecca over into it, covering her body with the viscose life force. I forced a few morsels of heart into her mouth, closing it and covering her nose so she had to swallow. She gagged but didn’t wake from her sedation. I washed her hands and forearms in the blood pooling in his open chest cavity and then caked her mouth with it. I took out my small Tupperware container, and secreted my prize, Michael’s heart, inside it. A few weeks later I had my second prize, Rebecca Angus under my care, to do with as I pleased.’

  Dr Ennis had two hands against Saul’s chest now and was digging his fingers into the skin, breaking the surface with the pressure he was applying.

  ‘Why did you let her go? If she meant that much to you, if you did so much to get her, why did you let her go?’

  Dr Ennis forced a finger into a small slit that he had worked open on Saul’s chest. ‘I think I may have gone too far, with her mind. I think I pushed her into madness, and to be honest, because of that, she bored me. Ordinarily I would have just killed her, face down, but with the scrutiny I was under, the scrutiny you put me under, it seemed easier just to transfer her out.’

  ‘So why me Ennis, why Jessica, why the fuck have you involved my son in this. If you want revenge against me then fill your fucking boots, rip my heart out and put it in your little plastic box, keep it as a puny trophy, but let my son go.’

  Dr Ennis laughed again as he inveigled a second finger in the lesion he was making, savouring the discomfort Saul was experiencing. Saul smarted as he started to dig into the flesh below. ‘You think I have your son. You think I have had Rebecca hidden away in here. And you call yourself a Detective. Someone knows what I have done Saul. Someone knows and they are trying to expose me. I am taking the opportunity to exact some sweet revenge before I have to disappear. I have no idea who our friend Dr Hanlon really is yet, but when I do find out, you can be assured, he will suffer a worse fate than you.’

  ‘Is that right now, a worse fate than being nailed to a chair?’ came a voice from the doorway to the cell, a voice with an Irish lilt.

  Dr Ennis spun around quickly and grabbed the knife off the top of the trolley, dropping the hammer as he did. ‘Dr Hanlon. I was hoping you would make an appearance.’ he said as he faced the old Irishman in the beige cardigan, tan slacks and Jesus sandals.

  ‘I hadn’t expected you to figure out about this place Gordon, I didn’t think you were that intelligent.’ Dr Hanlon goaded, seeing the rouge rise in Dr Ennis neck above the collar.

  ‘You arrogant bastard.’ sneered Ennis as he thrust himself towards Hanlon, and slashed the knife in an upward arc toward his chest. Hanlon stepped back quickly, Ennis wrong footed by the swiftness with which the old man moved. Hanlon raised a knee and dropped an arm, trapping Ennis thrusting arm between them, then banged his other hand down on Ennis wrist, knocking the knife to the floor. Ennis swung his other arm around, the fist at the end of it smacking into Hanlon’s jaw, jolting the old man, who lifted both hands as he staggered under the impact and grabbed Ennis jacket lapels. Ennis pushed forward into the hands, forcing Hanlon back against the cell wall, raising his own hands as he did, grabbing Hanlon by the neck. As Ennis began squeezing, the skin started to peel away from Hanlon’s neck, his hands slipping with it, surprising him. Hanlon took advantage of the moment, clamping his hands either side of Ennis’s head and twisting his arms viciously. There was a loud snap as Ennis’s neck broke and he crumpled to the floor at Hanlon’s feet.

  Saul looked on, confused, as the old man, strips of skin dangling from his neck and chin, deftly stepped over the now prone figure of Ennis and strode towards him. He reached for the hammer on the floor and wrapped the claw end of it around the nail in Saul’s right hand. ‘This may hurt a tad.’ he said as he tried to lever the nail out without digging the hammer into Saul’s hand.

  ‘It can’t hurt any more than when they went in.’ Saul said, grimacing as the nail moved against bone. Dr Hanlon removed the first one, then started on the next, concentration on his face.

  ‘Who are you?’ Saul asked between gritted teeth as the nail in his other hand was prised out, Dr Hanlon crouching down to take the ones out of his feet.

  Dr Hanlon smiled up at Saul as he positioned the claw around the nail in his left foot and pulled it out. ‘Who I am isn’t important.’ he started in a clipped British accent. ‘Why you are here is important.’ he continued in his soft Irish twang, removing the nail from his right foot. ‘What you do next, is the most important thing of all.’ he ended, in a tone Saul recognised.

  ‘Rob?’ Saul said, surprised, observing what he thought had been loose skin on Dr Hanlon’s chin. It wasn’t skin, it was latex. Dr Hanlon was wearing a mask.

  ‘Rob Adams, Ben Hanlon, your ‘Unknown Caller’, none of them are important.’ Dr Hanlon said, carefully positioning the claw of the hammer around the nail in his genitals, softly rocking it to loosen the end before he yanked it out. Saul yelped. He threw the nail and the hammer onto the floor and then grabbed Saul’s shirt, which was in a pile with his other clothes in a corner of the room. He tore strips off the shirt and started to bandage Saul’s wounds, kneeling on the floor in front of him.

  ‘Whoever you are. You have your killer now. Ennis is dead. He admitted to ripping Michael’s heart out. He admitted to setting Rebecca Angus up. Can you please let my son go?’ Saul asked, imploringly.

  Dr Hanlon looked at him, looked deep into his tormented eyes and shook his head sadly. ‘Gordon Ennis did not kill Michael Angus. He butchered him, yes, but only after he was dead. There is only one person who was complicit in his death. Madame Evangeline. You know that John. You know who she is. You have all the evidence you need and I expect you in that room in Featherstone Hall before midnight.’

  Dr Hanlon finished dressing Saul’s wounds and then started to release his restraints, the head first. As soon as it was free, Saul shook it from side to side disconsolately. ‘It can’t be Jessica. It can’t be. She was with me all night. It’s impossible.’

  ‘Then you have a predicament John. A choice. Jacob or Jessica. Only you know the truth, only you have the facts.’ Dr Hanlon said, loosening the last of Saul’s restraints and standing up.

  Saul moved in his seat, his body squirming in agony as he tried to stand, tried to lunge towards Dr Hanlon. He sank back down, broken. ‘It’s not possible. She was with me all night. No one left the room. They have it on CCTV that no one left the room.’ Saul repeated.

  Dr Hanlon started to back out of the cell, stepping over the body of Dr Ennis as he did. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in Saul’s defeated demeanour before he spoke. ‘John, think on one thing: Even Fallen Angels have wings.’

  10:30 pm

  ‘We have another five teams of Detectives drafte
d in now Jerry. Three teams are assisting DI Munro with location searches to try and find Dr Ennis. Two teams are working on identifying the victims of Dr Ennis. We are still containing this with regards to the press, but I think we only have until morning at the latest before we will have to make a statement. It has gone way beyond one death and one kidnapping, this is now into serial killer territory. Do you need any further resource at the Hall?’ asked the Chief Superintendent.

  Strange was standing with an arm across his chest, the other arms resting upwards, the hand of it supporting his chin. He looked pensively towards his superior. ‘I don’t need anyone else at the Hall Sir. I am concerned that we are running out of obvious leads. As much as we are trying to extend the detonation of the bomb, all that does is give us more time. It doesn’t help us get Jacob out or find Dr Ennis, if it is Dr Ennis behind this. If it isn’t Dr Ennis, then we are feeding on the remnants of scraps in terms of evidence, none of which are leading us anywhere. The same is true with regard to Madame Evangeline. There is nothing concrete. At the moment Sir, time is still the biggest problem.’

  ‘I appreciate that Jerry. I think you and the team are doing everything that you can on this. I can’t see any other direction that you could have taken. You have two prime suspects, one there, one we are hunting down and you have a method of dealing with the bomb. I would say so far, that is a decent day’s work.’

  ‘It will be Sir, when we get Jacob out. Thank you for your support.’ Strange finished, then glanced across to the countdown screen.

  ‘1,267 connections left and a time of 12:06 Steven! What’s happening with the time?’ Strange stepped towards Reynolds, concerned.

  ‘Some c…connections are taking a little longer that others to decrypt Sir.’ Reynolds answered nervously. ‘There will be five more people working on this in the next ten minutes. That will c…come back in, to around 11:45.’

  ‘Steven, if anything, and I mean anything gets in your way on this, let me know immediately please.’ Strange said, patting Reynolds on the shoulder as he moved past him and approached the coffee percolator.

  He poured himself a coffee and stood there watching the incessant drip of coffee from the filter into the pot for a moment, listening to its rhythmic heartbeat, lost in his own thoughts. His contemplation was interrupted by the conference phone ringing. He turned to the table and answered it.

  ‘Mick, have you got good news?’

  ‘Sir, we know where Saul was and we know where Ennis is. We were just driving towards the Fielding Institute when Buglass saw Saul limping out of the old asylum buildings. He go in his car and drove off. We have just been into the building Sir. Ennis’s body is in there Sir. He is dead. In the cell where we found Ennis, there is a chair covered in blood. It looks like someone has recently been strapped into it and tortured.’

  ‘Do you think that’s Ennis?’

  ‘I don’t think it was him being tortured. He may have been doing the torturing. SOCO and the Duty Medical Examiner are on their way. One other thing Sir. There is a room with a bank of screens in it. One of the screens is showing the feed from Featherstone Hall. One shows a feed of the cell where the body is. Unfortunately there are no recordings of what went on in there. But it looks like this is a location Dr Ennis was working from.’

  ‘Good work Mick. Can you ensure someone from Tech Forensics gets there quickly? We need them to check out the setup there to see if there is anything that can help us with the bomb. Did you see where John went?’

  ‘No Sir, he floored the car and was gone in an instant, straight past us. From the brief glimpse I saw of him, he looked in a bad way. Sir, there was no one else down there, in the cell. We have to consider the possibility it was Saul who killed Dr Ennis.’

  10:57 pm

  Rebecca watched intently as the lock on the front door started to slowly turn. She took a sip of wine, an amused smile crossing her features as the door was pushed slowly open and Dr Hanlon tentatively put his head around it.

  ‘You are fine Doc. I’m not standing behind it with a meat cleaver. I am on the sofa, enjoying a pleasant Rioja.’ she said as he looked toward her, his expression turning jovial.

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t worried about what you would do to me, I was worried about what bits of your body I would find strewn all over the living room.’ he joked as he entered and pushed the door closed behind him, approaching the sofa.

  ‘If your knives weren’t as blunt as a Nun’s chuff, it might have been a different story.’ she teased, before continuing. ‘Is it chilly outside?’ Rebecca asked as he sat down beside her, looking at the scarf around his neck.

  ‘For an old codger like me it is.’ he answered, pulling it a little tighter, feigning a shiver as he did. He then took at her relaxed demeanour, running his eyes over her, nodding appreciatively as he did. ‘You are looking remarkably good and sounding extremely lucid for a Category A Mental Patient. That’s a lovely top you are wearing, it suits you.’

  ‘Blowing your own trumpet Doc, it was you who bought it, not me, I just picked it out of the wardrobe.’ she answered. As well as the purple long sleeved round necked top, she was also wearing a pair of jeans. She sat on the sofa with her legs curled up underneath her and had an arm resting on the back of the sofa, supporting her head with its hand, which was tousling the hair on an auburn shoulder length wig. She had a full face of makeup on again, concealing the inflictions of her incarceration well, only the subtle ridges and rivulets of scarring visible close up.

  Rebecca reached over to the table, where there was a second glass of wine and, picking it up, offered it to Dr Hanlon, who accepted it. She held her glass towards his and said, ‘Cheers Doc.’ as they clinked glasses together.

  ‘I take it you have watched the DVD?’ Dr Hanlon asked as he relaxed back into the sofa, taking a sip of wine.

  ‘I have. It was enlightening. For the first ten minutes I was a gibbering wreck. I wasn’t watching the content, just watching Michael. Seeing him living, breathing, speaking and just being alive all over again. It was hard. It just reinforced what I know I have lost.’ she answered, her words tinged with sadness.

  ‘Did it help you make sense of why he did what he did?’

  She was silent for a moment, looking down into the rippling surface of the wine in the glass, composing her thoughts before she answered.

  ‘When you strip it all back, when you take away the ‘things’ that happened, the ‘people’ who have been influencing those ‘things’ and you get back to Michael and what he felt it becomes very simple. He loved his mum. Far more than a normal person would consider morally healthy, but that is how he felt.’

  ‘We’ve had that conversation a few times today Rebecca, it’s not always about the morality, it is about understanding.’ Dr Hanlon said softly, seeing the emotion bubbling in her eyes.

  ‘I know. I’m not judging him, I’m just understanding him. Probably for the first time. I can see how the way I have nurtured him over the years has contributed towards the way he felt about me. My love for him, my time for him was never compromised. I was there for him always. I can see now why that wasn’t necessarily the best thing, for both of us. The only person I had an emotional involvement with after Hannah died was Michael. Any emotion I felt, love, anger, frustration, probably even sexual frustration was only ever shared with Michael. For a long time, well into his teenage years, his years of sexual awakening, it was the same for him. He would talk to me about everything that he felt, every emotion. Or at least I though he did. I can see how we relied on each other, I can see where the feelings he had for me came from. I can see that while he had those feelings towards me, he would probably never have acted upon them if he hadn’t met Eve.’

  ‘Ah, Eve, or Madame Evangeline. So how do you feel about her part in this?’ asked Dr Hanlon.

  Rebecca took another sip of wine, looking at Dr Hanlon thoughtfully. ‘All she did was give us exactly what we wanted. Not necessarily what we needed, but exactly what we wanted. I know how I
felt: sorry, I know how I still feel about her. She brought something into my life that I craved, that I desired. She did the same for Michael. He loved her and if you watch those DVD’s you can see how happy he was. What I don’t understand, yet, is why. Why did she give us what we wanted? Why did she lead us into temptation?’ she was staring intently at Dr Hanlon as she asked the last question, watching every movement of his features. Before he had a chance to answer, she added, ‘It resonates with another question I keep asking. Why are you doing this?’

  ‘To lead you on the path to redemption.’ he answered, seriously, holding Rebecca’s challenging stare.

  ‘So am I redeemed?’ she asked, simply.

  ‘That is not for me to say Rebecca, it is for you to feel. Do you still replay music in your mind to distract you from what happened?’ he asked.

  ‘I will always replay music in my mind. But at the moment, it’s not to distract me, it’s to remind me. I don’t feel redeemed. I understand now why Michael was there that evening. I understand how he fell and banged his head. I still know that it was me who caused that and I still killed him. I don’t understand what happened at the flat.’

  ‘That’s where I can help you. What happened at the flat was Michael saved your life. Dr Ennis was going to kill you that night. He was under your bed when you were taken back to your flat and his intention was to molest you, rape you and cut out your heart. His plan changed when he saw Michael dead on your bed. He took his heart instead and then set the scene up so it would look as though you had done that to Michael. He then committed you, to his Institute, under his control, to do whatever he wanted with you.’