[Ben Whittle Investigations 01.0] The Revelation Room

by Mark Tilbury

  Bubba stood over Ebb, the shotgun aimed at his tormentor’s head.

  ‘Just you remember that the Lord Jesus Christ is watching you.’

  Bubba growled and thrust the gun at Ebb.

  ‘If you do as I say, you can come with me, Bubba. I’ll spare you.’

  Bubba shook his head.

  Ebb kneeled in front of Bubba with his hands clasped before him. ‘It’s your only chance of salvation.’

  Bubba pumped the gun and expelled a spent cartridge.

  ‘Think about it, Bubba. We’ve been together for a long time. We’re practically brothers. You can come to Thailand with me and start a new life. We’ll buy a proper working farm. I’ll even let you have full control of the land. How does that sound?’

  Bubba shook his head and spat on the ground.

  Ben turned to Maddie and Emily. ‘We need to call the cops.’

  ‘He’s got a phone in his living quarters,’ Emily said. ‘Along with all his other luxuries.’

  ‘Call an ambulance, Maddie,’ Ben said. ‘Tell them there are five dead bodies as well as the injured. And then call the cops.’

  Ebb pointed at Ben. ‘I’m not having those agents of the Devil—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what you think anymore,’ Ben said. ‘You’re finished.’

  ‘So you can speak after all, Stutter-bunny. It’s amazing what you can do when you put your tongue to it.’

  Ben ignored him. ‘Go, Maddie. Now!’

  Maddie walked to the door. She turned back to face Ben. ‘Please be careful.’

  Ebb looked up at Bubba. ‘You can have whatever you want, Bubba. Women. Slaves. Wealth beyond your wildest dreams.’

  Bubba spat on the ground again.

  Ebb reached out and made a grab for Bubba’s ankle.

  The gun roared just as Maddie walked into the Cannabis Room. She didn’t see Ebb’s head explode in a kaleidoscope of blood and bone and brain matter. She didn’t see him fall forward and land with his right hand almost touching Max’s tail.

  And for that, Ben thanked Pastor Tom’s God from the bottom of his heart.

  40

  Ben stood beside his father’s hospital bed. It was weird viewing the world through one eye. The patch covering his injured eye meant he had to twist his head sideways to see anything on his blind side. At least the eye was going to be all right. Ebb hadn’t inflicted any permanent damage.

  Geoff Whittle was asleep. Ben thought sleep was the best place for him. There were tubes all over his body. Two were taped to his hand, one of which connected to a bag of saline hanging from a portable trolley. Most of his facial wounds looked a lot better now they’d been cleaned.

  The consensus among hospital staff was that his father was lucky to be alive. Geoff didn’t seem to agree. He considered himself bloody well unlucky to have been captured by Edward Ebb in the first place.

  Maddie added another bunch of grapes to the overflowing fruit bowl. ‘Do you think I should get rid of some of this stuff? Those bananas look rank.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be a bad idea.’

  ‘He told me he doesn’t even like fruit.’

  ‘Try telling that to Mum. She thinks that fruit and fruit alone will get him on his feet again. Never mind he’s got a cracked vertebra.’

  Maddie dropped a rotten banana into the empty bag. ‘She means well.’

  After a slight pause, Ben said, ‘I don’t reckon he’ll walk again.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘He’s broken his spine, Maddie. Not to mention what Ebb did to him. I’m just trying to be realistic.’

  ‘One day at a time.’

  ‘Do you remember that doctor who told him to take “one step at a time”?’

  ‘I thought your dad was going to get out of the bed and hit him.’

  ‘He had a good go.’

  Geoff’s broken legs were encased in a cast and hoisted up at a forty-five-degree angle. His shattered shoulder was bandaged and his arm set in a sling. He’d lost a lot of weight, mostly down to his refusal to eat anything other than mashed potato and an occasional banana. The nutrients dripping into his veins did little to replace home-cooked meals, even ones of the culinary calibre of Anne Whittle. At the moment, Geoff was surviving mainly on a diet of retribution and threats.

  He opened one eye and peered at his son. ‘What time is it?’

  Ben jumped. His father always seemed to catch him off guard. Ben glanced at his watch. ‘Nearly midday.’

  Geoff coughed and hacked something into his mouth which he swallowed with a grimace. ‘Give me some water. I’m parched.’

  Maddie picked up a glass of water and a straw from the nightstand. She held the straw to Geoff’s lips. He took a mouthful and then spat out the straw. ‘It’s bloody warm.’

  ‘Shall I get you some fresh?’ Maddie offered.

  ‘No. Let them do it. I pay enough taxes. Press that red button on the side of the bed.’

  Ben wished his father would keep his thoughts to himself. He pressed the button.

  ‘Sit down, boy. You look like you need the toilet.’ And then to Maddie. ‘You, too, love. Take a pew.’

  They sat down. After a brief altercation concerning the level of care, a nurse brought Geoff a fresh glass of water. He let Maddie help him with the drink. Finished, he looked at Ben. ‘How’s mother?’

  Flapping, fretting and worrying, Ben thought. ‘She’s all right. She’s gone to Aunt Mary’s for lunch.’

  ‘Lunch? She’ll be lucky to get a slice of cucumber on a Ryvita with that one.’

  Ben smiled. Aunt Mary was going through what his mother called a skinny phase. Ever since Ben could remember, Aunt Mary had been going through a skinny phase or a fat phase. Ben didn’t care. He liked Aunt Mary, fat or thin.

  ‘Is she coming in to see me today?’

  Ben nodded. ‘Tonight.’

  ‘Tell her no more fruit. I’ll turn into a bloody gibbon if I eat another banana.’

  Ben smiled. It was pointless telling his mother anything once she’d set her mind. ‘I’ll try.’

  Geoff sighed. ‘I want to go home. I’ll never get better in here. I can’t even get a decent night’s sleep with that old bugger over there snoring like a train.’

  Ben didn’t want to think about the logistics of accommodating his father at home. Where would they put him? He wasn’t in any fit state to get up the stairs to his bedroom. The thought of trying to cater for his father’s bathroom needs filled Ben with a dread matched only by memories of Penghilly’s Farm. He was better off here until they could adapt the house. In the long run, they would need to an extension built so his father could have a downstairs bedroom and en-suite shower.

  Geoff asked Maddie how Bubba was.

  ‘Bubba’s fine. He loves the spare room. I suppose after Penghilly’s Farm, it seems like a luxury hotel. Dad’s going to give him a job when he’s well enough to work.’

  ‘At the church?’

  Maddie nodded. ‘Dad’s teaching him sign language at the moment.’

  Ben remembered the countless hours Pastor Tom had spent teaching him how to use Old Joe to overcome his stammer. He was sure Bubba and Pastor Tom would get on great together.

  ‘And what about you? How are you coping?’

  ‘I’m okay, Mr Whittle.’

  ‘You saved my life. I won’t ever forget that.’

  ‘I didn’t do—’

  ‘What you did was brilliant. I hope that bloody girl’s grateful.’

  ‘We went to see her last night, but she’s gone to stay with her Gran. Just while she gets back on her feet.’

  ‘She looked quite capable of standing last time I saw her.’

  Maddie helped herself to a grape. ‘She lost the baby.’

  ‘What baby?’

  ‘She was pregnant.’

  ‘Who the hell got her pregnant? Not that ranting lunatic, Ebb?’

  ‘One of the cult members,’ Ben said. ‘Marcus. He died.’

  ‘Stupid girl.
Whatever was she thinking of?’

  Ben didn’t want to be drawn on the rights and wrongs of Emily Hunt’s behaviour. ‘Emily’s dad says if we need anything, just let him know.’

  ‘Has he coughed up yet?’

  ‘In full. And he’s given us a five grand bonus.’

  ‘That should go a long way to curing me.’

  Ben understood his father’s frustration. ‘We just need to take it one day at a time. Like we did in that basement.’

  ‘Cellar,’ Geoff corrected. ‘We’re in England, not America.’ And then to Maddie, ‘Could you give us a moment, love?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll go grab a coffee.’

  When she left, Geoff looked at Ben and smiled. The smile was shaky around the edges. ‘You did well, son. I’m proud of you. You put yourself on the line for me, and that makes you a man in my book.’

  Ben struggled with the praise. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And I’ll tell you this for nowt: if you had called the cops, and they’d shown up at the farm, Ebb would have killed us all. He thought I was a cop.’

  ‘He got that half right; you used to be.’

  ‘And then he thought I was Satan. Then a cop again. And then an agent of the Devil. He used to come down the cellar every day trying to get me to confess. One day he’d act all nice, bringing me soup and water, the next he’d threaten me with a shovel and pour acid on me.’

  Ben wanted to tell his father what Ebb had done to him on the cross, but it seemed irrelevant at the moment. ‘It must have been terrible for you.’

  ‘And he talked to those bloody skeletons. Full blown conversations. Particularly the one in the hideous pink wig.’

  ‘That was his mother.’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’

  ‘He beat her to death with a shovel.’

  ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’ And then after a few moments, ‘What gave you the idea to mimic the dog?’

  Ben wanted to tell his father about Old Joe and Pastor Tom. How Tom had taught him to throw his voice, but he didn’t want to talk about his childhood. Not now. Perhaps never. ‘I don’t know. It was just a spur of the moment thing. I knew how much that dog meant to him, so I thought it might distract him.’

  ‘Nothing short of heroic, son. Bloody heroic.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Geoff changed the subject. ‘You look like a pirate with that patch. How long do you have to wear it?’

  ‘Just until the swelling goes down.’

  ‘Thank God he didn’t blind you.’

  Ben looked at his hands. The hands that had attacked Edward Ebb. He still couldn’t believe that he’d found the courage to do it.

  ‘Look, son, I won’t beat about the bush. We’ve got to face facts. I might never walk again.’

  ‘You don’t know that, Dad.’

  ‘Whatever happens, I won’t be fit enough to go out on operations anymore. My days of climbing trees are behind me. I’m in my mid-fifties as it is. To tell you the truth, I’ve been wanting to hand over the reins for a long time, but I didn’t think you were up to it.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘But I was wrong. I never gave you the chance to prove yourself. Ever since you could talk, I was telling you to shut up. I thought I could mould you into a man, just like my father did to me. But I was wrong. You’re different to me and Granddad. We both thrived on discipline. You seem to have more of your mother’s genes in you.’

  Ben grinned. ‘You saying I’m a girl?’

  ‘I’m just saying you’re sensitive. But that doesn’t make you any less of a man. Maybe it makes you more of a man. Anyway, you’ve shown me you’re more than capable of stepping into the breach. The job’s yours if you want it.’

  ‘But what are you going to do?’

  ‘I’ll run the office and do what I can once I’m in better shape.’

  Ben’s mind was caught in a no-man’s-land between elation and doubt.

  ‘Take your time and have a think about it. I’m not pressurising you into doing anything. I’ve done enough of that up to now.’

  ‘I don’t need to think about it. It would be an honour to work as a private investigator for Whittle Investigations.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. Now bugger off. I need to rest. And take that young lady out for a meal. On me.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m bloody sure. Why else would I have said it?’

  Ben didn’t walk out of ward 5C. He floated on legs filled with helium. He took a lift down to level two and found Maddie in the League of Friends canteen. Maddie waved. At him! How cool was that?

  Ben grinned. ‘Do you fancy going out for a meal?’

  ‘I’m skint.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. It’s on the old man.’

  ‘Then I’d love to.’

  ‘Italian?’

  ‘Italian would be great.’

  They left the canteen and took the stairs down to ground level. They walked out of the hospital into a beautiful, warm summer afternoon. Ben stopped and turned to Maddie. ‘How do you fancy working with me?’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘My dad’s put me in charge of investigations. I wondered if you wanted to help? Be my assistant? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.’

  Maddie smiled and poured sunshine into those beautiful green eyes. ‘I’d love to, Ben.’

  Ben wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hug her tight and declare his undying love from the rooftops. ‘Cool,’ he said, before almost walking into a bollard and stubbing his toe on the kerb.

  The End

  Also by Mark Tilbury

  The second part of Mark Tilbury’s gripping Ben Whittle mystery series is now available:

  The Eyes of The Accused

  Have you read Mark Tilbury’s criticcaly acclaimed stand-alone thriller The Abattoir of Dreams?

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  Readers who enjoyed The Revelation Room will also enjoy

  The Abattoir of Dreams

  Ice Cold Alice

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to say a huge thank you to all those who have helped with the creation and promotion of The Revelation Room, especially Fred and Betsy and all at Bloodhound Books

  Thanks to Lesley Jones who edited the first draft, and helped me to see how the story could be improved, and to Maggie James who gave her time to beta read the book.

  Also, a huge thank you to my girlfriend, Cassie, who helps with all aspects of social media.