[Ben Whittle Investigations 01.0] The Revelation Room

by Mark Tilbury

  Ebb reached into a pocket on the side of his robe and pulled out a pair of surgical gloves. He snapped them on. ‘Benjamin?’

  Ben shuddered. ‘Yes, Father?’

  ‘Satan is inside you.’

  ‘No. No, he’s not, Father.’

  Ebb smiled. His tongue peeked from his lips like a serpent about to strike. ‘He is, Benjamin. He might use his charm to hide himself, but he doesn’t fool me. Not one bit. Are you aware of the tactics of terrorists?’

  Ben stared at those murderous hands and shook his head.

  ‘A popular ploy of the terrorist is to hide among civilians. Why do you think they do that?’

  Ben shook his head. He couldn’t care less what terrorists did.

  ‘They do it because no one can distinguish them from innocent civilians. Cowards, jackals, ferrets and weasels. What do you think about that, Benjamin? Disgusting, right?’

  Ben looked at Ebb’s hands and imagined them probing his naked body, seeking Satan.

  ‘Satan is a terrorist,’ Ebb continued. ‘He is a terrorist of the worst kind. He hides among all of us. The good, the great, the weak, the strong, hoping we do not find him and flush him out. But Satan is mistaken. He does not fool us.’

  Tweezer joined Ebb in front of the cross. ‘Satan does not fool us.’

  ‘We have learned to look behind the bushes.’

  ‘And under the rocks,’ Tweezer added.

  Ebb looked at Ben like a man doubting the pedigree of a horse. ‘Where does he hide in you, Benjamin?’

  Ben pushed up. The leather restraints cut into his ankles. ‘He’s not inside me.’

  Ebb jabbed Ben in the ribs with his forefinger. ‘He’s in you, all right, Pixie-pea. I can smell his rancid breath on your lips.’

  Ben twisted his head to one side.

  Ebb turned to Tweezer. ‘I fear he’s already laid siege to Benjamin’s tongue.’

  ‘You’re right, Father.’

  Ben writhed on the cross. ‘Satan’s not fucking well inside me.’

  ‘See how Satan decorates the denial of his own existence with profanity?’

  Ben’s bladder threatened to empty. What the hell did he say? All right, it’s a fair cop, Satan’s inside me. Go get him.

  Ebb took a step back. ‘Do you know what the good guys do when the terrorists hide among the civilians?’

  Ben didn’t have a clue.

  ‘They attack anyway. It’s better than surrendering to their cowardly tactics. To do so would allow them to multiply like cancer cells. Do you see the logic in that?’

  Ben didn’t see the logic in anything anymore. ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Satan hides inside you. It’s my job to flush him out, Benjamin.’

  ‘Satan’s not inside me.’

  Tweezer stroked his goatee. ‘Do you doubt the Father’s integrity?’

  ‘No.’

  Ebb laughed. ‘Your pathetic attempt at compliance isn’t fooling anyone, Satan.’

  Tweezer agreed. ‘He’s inside him as sure as eggs make omelettes.’

  Ebb reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass vial. He unscrewed the cap and drew a small amount of clear liquid into a dropper attached to the lid. He moved closer to Ben.

  Ben pushed up on the leather restraints securing his legs. His right knee cracked. Pain shot through his leg and speared his stomach. ‘Let me go. Please. I don’t want to do this.’

  Ebb pointed the dropper at Ben. ‘See how Satan hijacks him?’ He reached up and dripped a few drops of liquid onto Ben’s left wrist.

  Ben screamed and thrashed from side to side as a thousand white-hot needles tattooed his skin. The pain in the rest of his body was totally eclipsed by the burning in his wrist.

  Ebb stepped back and turned to the rest of the group. ‘See how Satan resists the holy water?’

  ‘Yes, Father,’ the group mumbled.

  Tweezer stepped up close to Ben. ‘Not so bold now, are you, Satan?’

  Ben screamed.

  Ebb seemed unconcerned. He moved to the other side of the crossbeam. ‘Satan scurries around inside him like a rat in a henhouse. But we shall flush him out. Flush him out so God’s light can scorch his eyeballs.’

  ‘Praise Jesus,’ Tweezer hollered.

  Ebb administered a shot of acid to Ben’s right wrist.

  Ben screamed and thrashed on the cross as the whole of his right arm caught fire.

  Ebb stepped back and studied Ben as if he was an exhibit in a science laboratory. He screwed the cap back on the bottle and put it back in his pocket. ‘It’s going to be a long night.’

  One of Ben’s knees popped. The one Stutter-buck had fractured all those years ago when he’d jumped from the conker tree. He gasped for air. His wrists felt as if they’d been set alight with napalm. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck—’

  Ebb held up a hand. ‘I hear your profanity, Satan. I hear your curses. I hear your vulgarity.’

  Ben vomited. Bile dribbled down his chin.

  ‘See how Satan tries to garner pity?’

  ‘We afford him no pity,’ Tweezer said.

  ‘F-Fuck,’ Ben shouted.

  Ebb shook his head. ‘We pay no heed to you, Satan. We do not fear you.’

  Ben wasn’t aware that he’d wet himself. Or that his left shoulder had dislocated. The burning in his wrists trumped everything else at the moment.

  Tweezer turned to Ebb. ‘Should we light fires beneath his feet, Father?’

  Ebb seemed to ponder this for a moment. ‘Perhaps, Bother Tweezer. I fear we may need more radical action to rid Benjamin of his unwanted guest.’

  ‘No,’ Ben shouted.

  ‘Satan controls him.’

  Tweezer agreed. ‘Satan is his puppet-master.’

  Ebb wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘Possession is a terrible thing. But a rotten tooth has to be pulled out whether the mouth likes it or not.’

  ‘Please don’t d-d-do anything else.’

  Ebb made a sign of the cross. ‘Benjamin is not the first soul you have used to trick your way inside The Sons and Daughters of Salvation, Satan. Nor will he be the last. But we remain steadfast and vigilant. Resolute.’

  ‘See how the holy water has marked him, Father?’

  ‘Confirmation of my gravest fears, Brother Tweezer.’

  Ben knew he was going to die. No one would ever find him. His mother would go to her grave never knowing what had happened to him.

  Tweezer pointed at Ben. ‘Leave now, Satan.’

  Ebb held up a hand. ‘Enough. Leave him be. Benjamin needs to prepare himself for the exorcism.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘Come. We shall pray for Benjamin’s soul.’

  17

  Maddie lay on a king-sized bed in Ebb’s quarters, her wrists handcuffed to a brass head rail. Her white robe was still fastened around the middle with its yellow sash, but the bottom part had flapped open to reveal the tops of her legs. Her hands were dead. Pins and needles drip-fed her arms with a steady, throbbing tingle.

  The room, a converted attic in the farmhouse, was painted brilliant white. Even in the fading light, it seemed bright and disorientating. There was a large cross fixed to the wall above the bed. Through a skylight above the bed, Maddie could see ribbons of cloud bleeding into the darkening sky. Compared to the derelict state of the rest of the building, the room seemed like paradise.

  She had no sense of time. After they had left the kitchen, Sister Alice had taken her upstairs to a room with a brass plaque secured to the door. The plaque had the word Sisters inscribed on it. Sister Alice had given her the robe and told her to put it on. She’d then fetched Maddie a drink of elderflower juice. Maddie hadn’t realised just how thirsty she was until she’d started drinking. She’d drained it in several long gulps.

  Soon after, Maddie had felt tired enough to sleep on broken glass. Sister Alice had helped her out of the room and up another flight of stairs to Ebb’s quarters. And that was all she could remember. Sister Alice
must have put her on the bed and handcuffed her wrists to the head rail.

  Maddie watched Ebb walk into the room. He dabbed at his head with a white handkerchief. She could see the mound of his stomach beneath his robe. So much for abstinence.

  ‘It’s a hot one today, Madeline.’

  Maddie looked into those button brown eyes for signs of humanity. Nothing. Two lumps of black coal.

  Ebb smiled. Flesh folded around his eyes. ‘Would you like a drink? We don’t want you dehydrating.’

  Maddie shook her head. ‘Where’s Ben?’

  ‘Please address me as Father.’

  ‘Father.’

  ‘In this world of inflated prices, Madeline, manners are free. Perhaps your headmaster daddy should have taken time out of his busy schedule to teach you that.’

  Maddie looked at the skylight. ‘I wouldn’t have listened to him if he had.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you would,’ Ebb agreed. ‘You have spirit, Madeline. Spunk. I admire that. I’m afraid Benjamin is a wet sponge.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Aren’t we forgetting something?’

  ‘Sorry… Father.’

  ‘That’s better. It’s quite painless, isn’t it? As for Benjamin, he’s well. He’s getting ready for his inauguration.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Ebb put a finger to his lips. ‘Too many questions, Madeline. All will be revealed in good time.’

  ‘Is it too much to ask why I’m chained to this bed?’

  ‘Yes, Madeline, it is.’

  ‘My arms are dead.’

  ‘A numb arm never hurt no one. Think how Jesus felt nailed to the cross. Your discomfort is not comparable.’

  ‘I just want to know what’s going to happen to me.’

  Ebb sat on the edge of the bed. ‘You will bare your soul, Madeline. Bare your soul to Jesus.’

  Maddie’s throat closed. ‘How?’

  ‘Did you used to take a peek at your Christmas presents before Christmas day? Sneak down in the middle of the night and rattle all the goodies wrapped up under the tree?’

  Maddie grappled with the sudden change of direction. ‘No.’

  ‘I’ll bet you did. I’ll bet mummy and daddy spoiled you rotten at Christmas. Contaminated your head with all those dirty material possessions. I’d even venture as far as to say they bought you a puppy, right?’

  ‘No.’

  Ebb ignored her. ‘How much is that doggy in the window? The one with the waggly tail?’

  ‘I don’t even like dogs.’

  ‘I’ll bet it was a Labrador.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Complete with a roll of toilet paper wrapped around its cutie-pie Labrador body.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What did you call it?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Nothing? That’s not a very nice name for a puppy. What about Fido? That’s a good doggy name.’

  ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘My dog’s called Max. Do you like the name Max?’

  Maddie tried to shrug. Her cuffs jangled against the head rail. Hot needles injected her shoulders. If she could just wrap her legs around Ebb’s neck and twist. Her legs were strong and supple due to her love of dance and trampoline.

  ‘She’s a six-year-old Alsatian.’

  ‘She?’

  ‘Maxine.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You assumed Max was a male, right?’

  ‘I suppose—’

  ‘You must learn not to take things at face value, Madeline.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  Ebb studied her for a while as if appraising a piece of art in a gallery. ‘A child is a product of those who shape it and mould it with their misguided beliefs. No one blames you for getting a puppy at Christmas, Madeline. Least of all me. We’re here to protect and nurture you, not to point fingers.’

  Maddie wondered how chaining her to a bed was conducive to protecting and nurturing.

  ‘Dogs have many qualities most humans can only dream of. When I say dogs, I mean proper dogs; not those stupid yappy things like my mother used to own. Bite you one minute, shag your leg the next. If I had my way, every one of those damned things would shame the shovel.’

  Maddie was about to ask what “shame the shovel” meant, but then thought better of it.

  ‘What do you think Maxine’s best quality is?’

  Ripping you to shreds, hopefully. ‘I can’t think straight with my arms like this.’

  Ebb ignored her. ‘Loyalty, Madeline. That dog would walk over broken glass and through a hail of bullets for me. She never complains. Unlike humans who dedicate their lives to whinging and whining.’

  Maddie pushed herself up on the bed and tried to relieve the pressure on her wrists. Maybe she could kick out and kill him with a single blow to the temple.

  ‘What about cats, Madeline? Do you like cats?’

  ‘No.’ The truth. They made her sneeze for starters.

  Ebb smoothed out creases in the white duvet. ‘Me neither. Nasty little killers. Have you noticed the way people excuse their behaviour by saying, Oh, it’s just what they do. Really? Do they say the same about paedophiles and rapists? It’s just what they do?’

  ‘People are weak.’

  ‘They are, Madeline. Weak and full of excuses. If your daddy was here, he’d be defending the education system. Denying the systematic brainwashing of whole generations of good young people. Correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Ebb pursed his lips. ‘From the minute you can talk, they tell you to shut your mouth. Soon as you’re old enough to wipe your own backside, they’re force-feeding you with lies and teaching you to be a greedy capitalist pig.’

  Maddie tried to measure the distance between her foot and Ebb’s head.

  ‘Remember assemblies?’

  Maddie nodded.

  ‘We had a deputy headmaster called Oxlade-Bullingdon. Everyone called him The Ox. A beast of a man. He used to parade up and down the stage during assembly, threatening this and threatening that. It’s a damn good job they banned the cane. Oxlade-Bullingdon looked like a man who might have enjoyed thrashing children. Do they still have the cane at your father’s school, Madeline?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Does he paddle his warped beliefs into the backsides of the innocent?’

  Maddie grappled for an answer. It was impossible to think.

  ‘Of course he does. Don’t move. Don’t talk. And above all else, don’t think. Not unless you want Orwell’s Thought Police to come knocking on your door and rattling your windows like Wee Willie Winkie. So much for free speech. Free speech, my eye. A headless chicken has more rights.’

  ‘Can I have some water?’

  Ebb blinked, as if coming out of a trance. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Can I have a drink?’

  ‘Yes. What would you like? I’ve got some Australian Chardonnay. It’s rather good for the price.’

  ‘I didn’t think you allowed alcohol?’

  ‘We do on special occasions, Madeline. Don’t worry, I’ve squared it with Jesus.’

  Maddie watched him leave the room. The muscles in her neck throbbed. The tips of her fingers throbbed. A thought: even if she kicked out and disabled Ebb, she would still be manacled to the bed. What then?

  Ebb returned a few minutes later with a glass of wine and a pink and white striped straw. He held the straw to her lips. Maddie drained the glass without pausing for breath.

  ‘Better?’

  Maddie nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes, Father,’ Ebb corrected.

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  He put the glass down on a solid oak night table. ‘That should help you to relax.’

  ‘But why have you handcuffed me to the bed?’

  ‘Because Satan lives in you, Madeline.’

  ‘Satan?’

  ‘Satan. Beelzebub. The Devil. Call him what you will.’

  ‘He’s not inside me,’ Maddie protested.


  ‘You don’t know he’s inside you, Madeline. But he is.’

  ‘He’s not.’

  Ebb held a finger in the air as though testing wind direction. ‘He has hijacked your soul, child. It is our job – our duty – to flush him out. The restraints are to prepare for Satan’s resistance.’

  Maddie searched her mind for a way to reason with a man that had lost all sense of reason. Her mind was all out of ideas. The wine had blunted her senses.

  ‘And he will resist, Madeline.’

  Maddie’s lips suddenly went numb. ‘He won’t. I won’t let him.’

  ‘Satan already controls your tongue.’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Silence, Satan. Be still.’

  Her eyelids felt so heavy. ‘I wanna go home.’

  ‘You’ll be going back to the flames of Hell where you belong, Satan.’

  Maddie closed her eyes. An image of her father flashed in her mind’s eye. Pastor Tom, with his smiling blue eyes and arthritic hands drawn together in a gesture of prayer.

  18

  Ebb returned to the barn. An Alsatian walked on his right-hand side. The dog wasn’t on a leash. It kept in perfect step with its master. Ebb stopped a few feet in front of the cross and snapped his fingers. The dog sat down and regarded Ben with alert brown eyes.

  Ebb grinned at Ben. ‘I’d like you to meet Max.’

  Ben wondered if he should introduce himself to the dog. Hi, I’m Ben, and I’m in a stack of shit right now, so please excuse me if I don’t shake you by the paw.

  ‘Madeline thought Max was a boy.’

  Whatever was she thinking?

  ‘Just so you don’t make the same mistake, Max is very much a girl, Benjamin. She’s called Maxine.’

  Ben didn’t give a fig what sex the dog was. He was more concerned with why Ebb had brought the damned thing into the barn.

  ‘Do you know that a dog can sniff out a single drop of blood in thousands of litres of water?’

  Ben didn’t.

  ‘They can sniff out drugs. Cancer, even. Were you aware of that?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Dogs are the most marvellous creatures. I was telling Madeline about the virtues of dogs not half an hour ago.’